A man was once rescued off a desert island after 20 years all alone. As the rescuers came ashore, he ran out to meet them, so very excited to see another human being for the first time in two decades. “Come, come!” he shouted with joy, “You must see the civilization I’ve built during my isolation.” He brought them to a row of three buildings. The first building, he pointed to proudly and said, “This is my home. It isn’t much, but I built is with my own two hands.” At the next building, he brought them inside to show them all around. “This is my church. In 20 years of being lost on this island, I’ve found my faith in God brought me hope when it was easy to feel hopeless.” Finally, they stopped out front of the third building. The man pointed over his shoulder and said, with a bit of a scoff, “This is the church I used to go to.”
On the night before he died, Jesus prayed over his disciples. He prayed that they might be protected by the Father. He prayed that they might be guided by the Spirit. And, he prayed that they might be one as Jesus and the Father were one. Despite the prayers of Jesus himself, somehow, from almost the very beginning, the Church that tries to follow the Way of Jesus has been broken. Paul’s letters to the Corinthian Church were written to address, among other things, disputes over who was worthy to receive communion that threatened to tear it apart. The letters of John were sent to deal with a group of Christians who claimed to be the only true believers and were willing to cast all other followers of Jesus into outer darkness. By the early fourth century, Christians were killing one another, each claiming to understand the nature of Jesus better than everyone else. Fast forward to the 2001 edition of the World Christian Encyclopedia and the number of different Christian denominations in the world was counted at a whopping 33,830 (thirty-three thousand eight hundred thirty). I know of a few new Anglican denominations that were founded in the United States since then, so that number only continues to grow. We are so very far from the dream Jesus articulated in that prayer at the Last Supper, it is lamentable.
As William Reed Huntington, my spiritual mentor from the turn of the 20th century, would ask, what kind of damage have we done to the Kingdom of God when we spend our time and energy fighting amongst ourselves over things that the world sees as frivolous like music, vestments, candles, debts versus trespasses, or the age of baptism? How can the Church possibly be an agent of blessing in our communities when we are so caught up in being right that we are willing to walk away from those whom Christ would have us call sisters and brothers? As we heard in the prayer Jesus prayed, our unity as Christians is meant to be a symbol for the world of just how deep and wide God’s love is for the whole creation. Our disunity keeps the world from knowing that out of love, God sent Jesus, the very Son of God, to live and die as one of us, thereby saving us all from death in sin. I’m pretty sure that all those who live outside of the Christian faith can see is yet another group of human beings who have totally lost the ability to live together in our differences.
Even as our disunity may feel disheartening, there are glimmers of hope on days like today. As we welcome into the Body of Christ Turner Hawkins this morning, we do so hopeful of a future in which all Christians are able to work together toward the building up of the Kingdom of God. [At 10 o’clock,] In just a few moments, we will act out that hope of unity by making a lifelong commitment to young Turner. Mother Becca will ask us, “Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support this person in his life in Christ?” In the split second between that question and the answer “We will,” I hope we can ponder for a moment about what that promise really means. As a child in a military family, young Turner will likely know several different congregations in his lifetime. His family may worship in an Episcopal Church in Montgomery, Alabama, but he’ll spend plenty of time at his Presbyterian pre-school. He’ll be raised alongside children whose families are Baptists, non-denominational, Roman Catholic, Lutheran, you name it. The promise we make today is not merely on behalf of the 10 o’clock crowd who will bear witness to this joyous event, but we commit alongside godparents, alongside grandparents, Vicki and David Cole, and their usual 8am crew, alongside Episcopalians and Anglicans, and alongside Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Eastern Orthodox Christians around the globe who may one day be called upon to support Turner’s growth in the knowledge and love of the Lord.
I am under no illusion that this simple promise is going to fix the shredded fabric of the Body of Christ that is denominationalism. Today’s baptism will, I hope, have a profound impact on Turner and his family, but it can’t bring all of Christianity back under one roof. It can, however, have an impact on us as individual disciples of Jesus. What if supporting Turner in his life in Christ means modeling behavior that can lead us back toward unity? We can model unity by holding our identity as Episcopalians with humility. We can change the way we talk about those who live out their Christianity differently than us. Rather than looking down our noses at “those evangelicals” or “those Baptists” or “those Roman Catholics,” perhaps we can show Turner what it means to work toward unity. We can seek ways to work alongside our siblings in Christ in tackling larger issues in our community like poverty, hunger, racism, addiction, and income inequality. We can show Turner what it means to be one in Christ by loving our neighbors, striving for justice and peace, and respecting the dignity of every human being.
In baptism, each of us given the gift of the Holy Spirit whose mission is to lead us into all truth. On this day, as we rejoice in Turner receiving that same gift, may we strive toward unity and work to make the church that Turner inherits something closer to the dream Jesus had for it as he prayed for his disciples on that most holy night. Lord Jesus Christ, help us to be one as you and the Father are one so that we might be models of your love in a world that desperately needs it. Amen.
 Book of Common Prayer, 1979, 303.