CMLC 2025-11-02 Sermon

Well, howdy. When I was growing up, we had a

joke in the family, and you may have had the

same one as well. Hearing your middle name in

public from your parents was not a good thing.

If a parent were to say, Jason, well, that could

be a good thing. Jason, here's a toy. Jason,

happy birthday. Jason, good job. But if they

said, Jason Marino. That meant something wasn't

okay, especially if it were in public. I know

my last name They know my last name, but if it

goes Jason Marino Oh I did something wrong now

they were to say Jason Abelardo Marino Then things

were going downhill fast and yes Abelardo is

my middle name. The a does not actually stand

for awesome Sorry that I lied to a few of you.

And for the record, my cousins heard their middle

names much more often than I did. But here's

what's funny. When we baptize someone, we also

say their full name. Only this time, it's not

for scolding, it's for blessing. Today, we are

baptizing one of our babies. When babies are

baptized, there's always this moment when the

pastor says their full name out loud. It's not

a nickname or a shortened version. It's the full

name, spoken carefully and clearly, followed

by, I baptize you in the name of the Father,

and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. That

name, spoken with the water, becomes part of

their story. These are such tiny people. What

sins could they possibly need forgiving though?

But the reality is that we are born into brokenness.

And we need to be immersed in the Word of God

from the very beginning. See, we are born into

sin. From that moment on is that we're realizing

our need to be forgiven. But from the moment

when we are baptized onward, no matter where

life takes them, that name is wrapped in the

name of Jesus. It's a naming and a washing. both

at once. We may not understand the words that

are being spoken yet, but the water is still

on us. As Christ says that he is bringing salvation

to those born in sin, good news that is announced

to all, even those who cannot yet see or hear

before Christ reaches them. See, this is not

about saying that we can only believe whenever

the words are making complete sense. As their

parents raise them to know Christ from then on,

there is no point at which these children are

led to believe that grace is not theirs yet.

See, their confirmation of faith later affirms

that God has been speaking into their hearts

and minds from the very beginning. This is not

something where they would be able to then wonder

Did I accept Jesus enough for him to be there

with me, but rather that God has always been

speaking to them even before they understood

the words? That's what sainthood really is. Not

perfection, not recognition, not achievement,

but being named and washed by God. Let's start

at the end of the story. to really understand

what's going on. The vision from Revelation.

Remember, this is a vision of what will happen

when Christ returns and makes all things new.

This is the time when the resurrection brings

us back to celebrate with Christ no matter what

happened before. See, John looks and sees a great

multitude that no one can count from every nation,

tribe, and language standing before the throne

dressed in white robes. It's easy to imagine

that this crowd is full of perfect people dressed

in white, people who got everything right, who

lived these flawless lives and did amazing things.

This is often what we get from some churches

that venerate the saints. But when the elder

asks, who are these? The answer has nothing to

do with their own works. These are the ones who

have come out of the Great Tribulation. They

have washed their robes. and made them white

in the blood of the Lamb. These are people who

have been through it. They've known suffering

and loss, doubt, and failure. They're not perfect

people who finally earned a seat in heaven. See,

in the midst of all those struggles, I am positive

that they did not do everything perfectly in

their lives. But you see, they're forgiven people

who were carried there by grace. They're not

shining because they were sinless. They are shining

because they were washed. Their robes are white,

not from their own effort, but from the blood

of Christ. Did you catch that? Their robes are

white because of dipping them in blood. What

kind of a washing is this? It's like when you

try to scrub out the yellow dinginess of white

clothing, trying harder cannot make them white.

I always wondered why it was that there were

those little bottles in the store that said,

Bluing. Not bluey. Bluing. See, the bluing of

royalty is needed to counteract the stains. But

what about the red of blood? It counteracts the

green of envy, jealousy, decay, mold, sin. Only

the red of the blood of Christ can cleanse them.

Their story didn't end in perfection. It ended

in grace. But notice that they were coming out

of the great tribulation, the tribulation of

a world caught up in sin, a world that attacks

anything made of light with darkness. These are

people who know what it means to struggle, to

suffer. How many of them were mistreated in a

world that only values aggression and cruelty,

a world that ignores those who cannot pull themselves

up by their own bootstraps and force their way

along? How many of them died in the midst of

exhaustion, maybe even died from exhaustion?

How often do people find themselves wondering

if God even remembers their name, remembers their

turmoil and strife? If we rewind from that vision

of glory though, we find Jesus on the mountain

in Matthew, speaking words to ordinary people,

fishermen, mothers, wanderers, doubters, words

that sound upside down because he calls them

blessed. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed

are those who mourn. Blessed are the meek. Can

we imagine what all they have said and done in

their lives? The times out on the ocean when

they can't catch any fish, they still have bills

to pay and the words that come out of their mouths

are things they wouldn't want their mothers to

have heard. The times when mothers wondered how

their children are going to turn out and cry

out when their children seem to forget who had

named them. And why it is that they're not meant

to be disconnected, but rather belong. But what

about the times when the wanderers wish they

felt like they belonged? The wandering children

who went off on their own, doubting whether they

had a place. Or the times when doubters look

at the world and think that nothing makes sense.

And yet, how can they be blessed? The world calls

people blessed when they're powerful, successful,

and admired. But Jesus calls people blessed when

they're humble, grieving, and hungry for righteousness.

That's not weakness. That's belonging. See, the

blessed are those who have nothing left to prove.

The ones who depend on God because they know

they cannot do it alone. The blessed are those

who admit when these things are true, even as

so many other people act rich. happy and bold

and things that have no real consequence. The

blessed are the ones who don't have anything

to hide behind or help them to avoid reality.

This means that being a saint, being blessed,

isn't about achieving holiness. It's about receiving

mercy. It's about living life with open hands

instead of clenched fists. It's about trusting

that even in mourning, even in hunger, even in

struggle, You are still named and loved by God.

So the saints are not people who got it all right.

They're people who learned to live by grace,

trusting there was still life on the other side

of death and suffering. And that means every

one of us who clings to Christ is included in

that word, saint. So if we rewind even further,

before the struggle, before the sorrow, before

the strength, We come to the beginning baptism

Every baptism begins with a name God doesn't

say get your life together and then I'll claim

you and you know Make a strong enough effort

to to really really get me and love me enough

God says your name first and then he makes you

new No one baptizes themselves. It's I mean,

could you just imagine? a little baby trying

to come up and like climb up the baptismal font

and kind of dunk himself in there, you know,

get all washed around. Thing is, we are all brought

by parents, sponsors, family, friends, the church

community. We're brought to the water because

others have been brought before us. See faith

is always passed down Grace always reaches through

the generations one generation to the next the

next someone always is the one bringing us to

know Christ Jesus Someone is always bringing

us there See We're brought Because that's what

it means to be part of all the saints See in

baptism God gives us a new name His own. He marks

us with the cross of Christ forever. We are washed,

not because we're ready, but because we're His.

And that's where the life of blessing begins.

Not in earning, but in receiving. It's a place

where God says, you are mine. And that's what

makes baptism such a powerful picture of grace.

We don't climb our way to Christ. Christ comes

to us. We don't achieve sainthood by striving.

We receive it by being brought. Every saint before

us was carried the same way by those who had

been carried before them, and even for those

who were baptized as teenagers or adults. We

know Jesus because someone brought us to him

just as they were once brought. We were all brought

when we had nothing, when we knew nothing about

God, and God had to speak into our hearts before

we could speak in return. Even Billy Graham,

for all of his proclamation, he had to first

be told of who Christ was in that tent he stumbled

upon before he could ever share Christ with anyone

else. So if we move forward again from the font

through the struggle toward the glory, what does

it mean to live as those who are named and washed?

It means remembering that your worth is not in

what you've done, but in who calls you his. It

means knowing that when you stumble, when you

sin, when you fall short, you don't lose your

name. Think of Peter. He denied even knowing

Jesus. Not once, but three times. When the rooster

crowed, Peter saw himself for what he was. A

failure. A coward. A sinner. But when Jesus rose,

he didn't come back with anger or shame. He came

back with Peter's name. Simon, son of John, do

you love me? He said the name out loud as if

to say, you are still mine. Peter's name didn't

depend on his success. It rested on Christ's

forgiveness. And that's what grace looks like,

a name that stays even when you've fallen and

then calls you back into righteousness. Or take

Jacob. Jacob's whole story was built on running,

tricking, deceiving, grabbing blessings that

weren't his. But in the middle of a long night,

God met him and wrestled him to the ground. And

there, right in the middle of his struggle, God

gave him a new name. Israel. The name didn't

come after Jacob got his act together. It came

in the middle of the wrestling. And that's what

grace does. It meets us in the struggle and names

us anyway, giving us a new future. Or David,

a man after God's own heart, and yet a man who

committed adultery, who arranged a death to cover

his sin, who broke nearly every commandment he'd

once sung about. Yet when he finally collapsed

before God, he prayed, created me a clean heart,

O God. And God did. David didn't lose the name

of being beloved. He didn't lose his place in

God's story. God's mercy covered him. Not by

erasing his past, but by redeeming it and then

changing him. And it's not just ancient saints.

In every generation, people get marked by failure.

Once upon a time, it might have been a divorce,

a scandal, not fitting the mold that society

called respectable. Today, it might be not measuring

up to perfection, the perfect parent, the perfect

marriage, the perfect career, the perfect track

record, the perfect faith. We live in a culture

that loves to define people by what went wrong,

but Grace refuses to use that ink. In baptism,

God writes his name over yours in water and promise.

He doesn't erase your past. He renames your future.

He doesn't wait until you're spotless. He washes

you while you're being a flawed human. The name

you receive there, beloved, child of God, saint,

that name holds even when life gets messy. So

when you fail, when you fail, When you're marked

by something you wish you could undo Remember

you are still named when the world calls you

by your mistakes God still calls you by the name.

He gave you at the font his own That's why All

Saints Sunday. Is it just about remembering those

who've gone before us? It's about remembering

who we already are the named and watched people

of God So on this All Saints Sunday this baptism

Sunday. We don't wait until someone has died

to call him a saint. We live our sainthood now.

Not because we're finished products but because

God has already begun his work in us. The same

God who washed us in the beginning will one day

welcome us at the end and in between he gives

us the grace to live each day as his blessed

named and washed people. So someday We'll see

that multitude dressed in white and when we do

I think we'll notice something Those robes are

not bright because the people were spotless They're

bright because of the one who washed them and

each voice in that crowd from every time and

place Will carry the same name the name of Jesus

the lamb who calls us blessed And when that day

comes and the lamb calls you calls out your name

It won't sound like judgment. It'll sound like

home. Thanks be to God.