Let us pray: Bless us this day, Wise Teacher, and grant us fresh understanding of your word. Plant us by streams of your living water, that we may bear the good fruit of your reign. Amen.

    During baptism preparation we talk briefly of the history of baptism in the Christian tradition. Baptism is not just a rite within the Christian church. In fact, the template for Christian baptism comes from the story of John the Baptiser who went as Eugene Peterson in The Message puts it, “all through the country around the Jordan River preaching a baptism of life-change leading to forgiveness of sins”. John was Jesus’ cousin, the son of Elizabeth and Zechariah. John, like Jesus was Jewish. From this story, then, we know that baptism has a clear history within the Jewish tradition as well. The story of Jesus’ baptism however, adds an element. It is one that uniquely defines Christian baptism. In the story of Jesus’ baptism and later in the book of Acts we read about the presence of the Holy Spirit as an important element of baptism. In fact, in Acts we read that Peter encountered a number of followers of the Way who had been baptised with water. He makes sure that they are also baptised with the Holy Spirit.

    Thus we have the establishment of this two-fold nature of Christian baptism - water and the spirit. Water - the stuff of life, important to everything we do - in real and symbolic terms. Water which we can see and hear and feel. Water and the spirit. The spirit - also important to everything we do, but which we cannot see, cannot hear, can only feel.

    We talk about that in the preparation session as well. The Christian scripture is clear that both water and the spirit are important elements of Christian baptism - one element that is so basic to our life and which is instantly recognisable and one element which we can only describe by its effect. There are places in the gospels where the Holy Spirit is described as being like a dove coming down on the people gathered. It is not a dove, but it is like a dove - perhaps the small rush of wind caused by the flapping of the dove’s wings. The spirit is also sometimes described as being like the wind. We also cannot see the wind, but we can see what the wind does. We can see it fluttering the leaves on the tree in the summer or blowing the snow into drifts in the winter. We can feel it on our face and see the waves it whips up on a body of water. We can feel the winds of God today. We know of the spirit’s presence by the way we feel it inspiring and directing us. We can’t see it, we can only see the power that it works in us and others.

    This invisible nature of the spirit’s presence is also the characteristic that adds mystery. While we will all readily say that there are times when we have felt the spirit’s presence, it is the fact that we cannot see or hear it that creates a situation where we need to seek it. In part this seeking of the spirit is called discernment. Where is God calling us? What among our gifts is being called into action at this moment in time?

    Discernment is both a simple and a complicated exercise. All of us know the time honoured tradition in decision making of writing down a list of pros and cons. It is often modified so that certain pros and certain cons are given more weight than others so that a session of arithmetic can shed some light on the direction that seems best for us. Yes, the spirit can be at work in this process, but it is often quite differently involved. The cons may add up against us, but the spirit is calling us forward. Everything may seem foolhardy, but still there is something beckoning us into new and untried territory. What other way is there to describe a statement like this: You're blessed when you've lost it all. That’s a paraphrase of the first Beatitude from Luke’s gospel, and it’s a sign of the spirit.

    A story comes to mind from my time of internship. One of the churches that my supervisor and I were serving seemed to be in a space of inactivity. It was right after Christmas and we felt that the church needed to find some direction. We convened a meeting which would give people some open space to talk about issues - whatever was uppermost on their minds at that time in their church life. One by one people spoke of the joys and desires of their participation in church life. The issue of the involvement of children in communion seemed to crop up with surprising frequency. It wasn’t on everyone’s mind, but it was on the mind of more people than we could have imagined. It was also clear that there was a difference of opinion among the people who raised it as an issue. My role in this exercise and one which I thoroughly enjoyed was to be the theological reflector. I was given the opportunity to listen to what people had to say and then offer some reflection on their words with the hope that it might help facilitate some of the discussion. At the end of the round the circle sharing, I was keenly aware of the different opinions that had been expressed about the involvement of children at communion. I decided to ask a simple question. Do you think God wants children to be involved in communion? The reaction was quick and surprising. Those who had expressed reservations about the involvement of children immediately sputtered out their opposition, until I pointed out that I had only asked a question. I didn’t say that God wants children to be involved in communion. I only asked. It was clear to me that many of the people who were opposed had heard a “yes” in their hearts and a “no” in their heads to the question. Clearly the spirit was at work in that moment - helping me to ask the right questions and speaking answers to people that they did not expect. A wonderful epilogue to this story is that we decided to give the idea of involving children in communion a try. The very next time we had communion the children all sat with their parents in the pews. One young girl, about four or five years old. after being passed the tray of cubes of bread, turned to give it to her mother and as she did, said, “Think about God, Mommy!” Needless to say, the number of people opposed to the presence of children at communion was greatly reduced once that story was told.

    As I said earlier, the discernment process can be both simple and complicated. This week I am travelling to Whitehorse to participate in another discernment process. A young woman from the Whitehorse congregation has expressed interest in ordered ministry as a vocation. A committee, called a Discernment committee, has been formed to work with her for a year, with meetings about every two months - don’t worry I am only attending half of them in person, to help her discern her call to ministry. The committee is comprised of members of the Whitehorse congregation and one representative from Northern Lights presbytery. That’s me. It’s an open-ended process. We all have a ministry. The spirit is at work in all of us. But this committee is set to explore what that ministry is for Jody. Will it be a call to diaconal or ordained ministry, or a call to continue to serve in ministry as a lay person. Some might see it as a complicated process, or at least a process that has such well-defined steps that it might actually prevent the working of the spirit, but I believe the spirit was at work in the development of the process and the spirit will be at work as we meet together. I know that none of us - inquirer and committee members alike, will remain unchanged by the work we do and the way the spirit works in us.

    Discernment - the work we do to feel the spirit around and within us. A process which often surprises. A quest which often turns things upside down. A journey which leads us to places we never could have imagined. Amen.