Disciple: Five Simple Words

By the Rt. Rev. Sam Rodman

This year was the first Easter I did not preach from the Gospel lesson. Instead, my text was from Paul’s letter to the Romans: “Walk in newness of life.”

That’s it: five simple words. They are not issued in Paul’s letter as a directive. They are not spoken in what the first rector I served with, who attended West Point, used to call “command voice,” as though it were an order: “Walk In Newness Of Life!!”

In the context of this short passage from Romans, Paul writes: “Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:4)

This is not a command or a directive. Walking in newness of life is a gift. It is an outcome of Jesus’ resurrection. It’s not a matter of will power or determination, or even of spiritual discipline or practice. Walking in newness of life is God’s gift to us through Jesus’ resurrection and through our baptism.

And here, in our context, this distinction matters. We in the United States are particularly predisposed to the tendency to try and earn our way into God’s good graces. Call it bootstrap theology, call it salvation by works, call it self-reliance. Whatever we call it, it seems to be rooted in our DNA. We seem compelled, if not to feel it compulsory, to try and prove our own worthiness.

Of course, the promise of salvation that comes to us through Jesus’ death and resurrection, through our baptism, is actually a gift. And Paul would argue that it is a given. Because God raised Jesus from the dead, and because we have been baptized, walking in newness of life is what will happen to us.

This newness of life is a gift, a promise and a given. Just as when you show up at a confirmation service you are going to renew your own baptismal covenant during the liturgy, it is part of the package. It comes with the territory.

Walking in newness of life is a given. Why is this important? Because in the biblical narrative, walking with God is an expression of our right relationship with the one who made us, the one who loves us and the one who saves us.

Go back to Genesis. Before the fall, God was walking with Adam and Eve in the garden in the cool of the day. In Exodus, the children of Israel walk through the Red Sea to escape their enslavement. Elijah the prophet was described as one who walked with God. And Jesus… Jesus walks everywhere. With the exception of Jesus riding a donkey on Palm Sunday and crossing the Sea of Galilee by boat, everywhere Jesus goes in his public ministry is on foot.

So, for Jesus, walking in this promise is actually a way of life, even before the resurrection. Jesus models for us, in his teaching and preaching and healing, what it means to walk with God. To walk in the freedom God intends for each of us, to walk in the way of the cross, where even suffering, pain and rejection point to something more, something powerful and redemptive.

GOD’S PROMISE TO US

Early on in my days as rector of St. Michael’s in Milton, Massachusetts, we suddenly and unexpectedly lost a beloved member of our parish to a massive heart attack. He was seated at his desk in his office. To add to the tragedy, he was on the phone with one of his three adult sons when he was stricken.

Being just 64 when he died, he had not made plans for his funeral, so I assisted the family in choosing readings, hymns and all the other details. There was one piece of music that the family chose for the very end of service because it was his favorite—a jazz arrangement for trumpet and piano of Patsy Cline’s “Just a Closer Walk with Thee.”

I will never forget that moment, still numb with grief, as we sat in the church together, hearing the strains of that familiar tune but with a different setting that was surprising, and even up-tempo and upbeat. It was altogether new, and it filled us with hope.

“Just a closer walk with thee,
Grant it, Jesus, is my plea,
Daily walking close to thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be …”

As we gathered this Easter, we were mindful that others across the globe are not able to gather for various reasons. The people of Ukraine are especially on our hearts, as they are living in imminent danger, and many have been uprooted from their homes. Their walk, at this moment, seems anything but hopeful. And still the promise of Jesus is that they are not alone, and that we, and they, are connected. As Richard Rohr wrote, “Resurrection is an uprising of hope!”

Even in the shock, grief and terror of war, our prayers and our hopes are intertwined, with one another and with Jesus’ promise, the one that comes to us through the gift of resurrection. We walk in the promise of new life, no matter what our circumstances.

This is God’s promise to us. This is how we can embody the gift of resurrection. We walk with God. We walk in love. We walk in solidarity with our sisters and brothers. We walk in newness of life—here and now, we walk in the power of the resurrection.

Did you know that when Jesus summons Lazarus from the tomb, the words he speaks—“Lazarus, come out”—are translated literally as “Lazarus, Here! Now!” Here, now, Jesus calls us to new life.

Jesus invites us to let go of the burdens we have been carrying; to set down our grief, our exhaustion; to put aside our resentments and our impatience, with others and with ourselves.

Jesus invites us to feel the freedom and the love embedded in the promise of newness of life, the promise at the heart of resurrection. “Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we, too, might walk in newness of life.” Here! Now! We walk in newness of life! This is God’s gift, Jesus’ promise and our living hope.

The Rt. Rev. Sam Rodman is the XII Bishop of the Diocese of North Carolina.