In Chapter 4, Ford asked me to ponder this question: “What is the root system of my life?” (82).
For the past three or four days I’ve been asking myself that question, letting the image of roots, especially tree roots, lead me to my thoughts for this posting. Before beginning, however, let me confess that I’m fascinated with tree roots. Whenever I have an opportunity (and a camera), I go looking for tree roots, especially when they’re exposed by severe erosion or when they twist themselves around rocks and plunge themselves into crevices of granite and limestone. As I drive along the highway, I’m constantly amazed at where tree manage to grow and how far down their roots go to seek nourishment. So when Ford asks me to consider my roots, I imagine myself something of a tree among the rocks, the roots of my life going down deep where the nourishment is, where there’s water.
Trees are are “grounded” in water. And so is the root system of my life, because I’m grounded in the waters of my baptism. Born on October 21, I was baptized by my father, a Lutheran pastor, on November 30, on St. Andrew’s Day. On that day I God baptized me into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God adopted me into his family, and He marked me with His name--Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. My baptism into the divine life of the Most Holy Trinity is the most important gift I have ever received. With Martin Luther (as he says in the Large Catechism), I realize that "to be baptized in God's name is to be baptized not by men but by God himself. Although it is performed by men's hands, it is nevertheless truly God's own act.”
I am rooted in God’s loving action. "God himself stakes his honor, his power, and h
is might on it. It is not simply a natural water, but a divine... water ...it contains and conveys all the fullness of God" (LC). Rooted from infancy in God’s love, a t the beginning of each day I draw nourishment from my roots, my baptism. I make the sign of the cross over myself (the sign my father first placed on my body on November 30 when god watered me in Holy Baptism). When I worship and hear the Eucharistic Liturgy’s opening words, “In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” I once again mark myself with the Holy Cross and remember and thank God for my baptism. When I’m tempted to despair of my sinful self, I have learned to say, “But I am baptized!” If I am baptized, I have the promise that I shall be saved and have eternal life, both in soul and body. I belong to Christ.
The implications are enormous, and in a day or so I’ll say something about them.
For the past three or four days I’ve been asking myself that question, letting the image of roots, especially tree roots, lead me to my thoughts for this posting. Before beginning, however, let me confess that I’m fascinated with tree roots. Whenever I have an opportunity (and a camera), I go looking for tree roots, especially when they’re exposed by severe erosion or when they twist themselves around rocks and plunge themselves into crevices of granite and limestone. As I drive along the highway, I’m constantly amazed at where tree manage to grow and how far down their roots go to seek nourishment. So when Ford asks me to consider my roots, I imagine myself something of a tree among the rocks, the roots of my life going down deep where the nourishment is, where there’s water.
Trees are are “grounded” in water. And so is the root system of my life, because I’m grounded in the waters of my baptism. Born on October 21, I was baptized by my father, a Lutheran pastor, on November 30, on St. Andrew’s Day. On that day I God baptized me into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God adopted me into his family, and He marked me with His name--Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. My baptism into the divine life of the Most Holy Trinity is the most important gift I have ever received. With Martin Luther (as he says in the Large Catechism), I realize that "to be baptized in God's name is to be baptized not by men but by God himself. Although it is performed by men's hands, it is nevertheless truly God's own act.”
I am rooted in God’s loving action. "God himself stakes his honor, his power, and h
is might on it. It is not simply a natural water, but a divine... water ...it contains and conveys all the fullness of God" (LC). Rooted from infancy in God’s love, a t the beginning of each day I draw nourishment from my roots, my baptism. I make the sign of the cross over myself (the sign my father first placed on my body on November 30 when god watered me in Holy Baptism). When I worship and hear the Eucharistic Liturgy’s opening words, “In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” I once again mark myself with the Holy Cross and remember and thank God for my baptism. When I’m tempted to despair of my sinful self, I have learned to say, “But I am baptized!” If I am baptized, I have the promise that I shall be saved and have eternal life, both in soul and body. I belong to Christ.The implications are enormous, and in a day or so I’ll say something about them.
1 comment:
I respect that view of water baptism, and certainly baptism into Christ by God is essential and a part of our salvation by grace.
My roots I think of come from a time when I fear I was not able to bond well with my mother who was necessarily busy helping both her father in the field, her mother stricken by MS, and doing household chores, while I as firstborn spent hours in a crib alone with toys. I think from that perhaps, I've always struggled feeling a lack of bonding to God and to others.
Only one aspect of my roots, but one that readily comes to mind at this time.
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