‍On the occasion of the baptism of Lucas Ignacio Arroyo

Lynley Dodd is one of New Zealand’s most well-known crafters of children’s literature, and most, if not all of us, have heard of her scruffy wee doggy, Hairy Maclary. Part of the enjoyment of her books is her use of rhyme, repetition, alliteration, and onomatopoeia. And her deliberate strategy is to expose children to such linguistic techniques.

So, without any further adulty a-do, let me now introduce you, to one of baby Lucas’ favourite books:

Hairy Maclary and Zachary Quack.

It was drowsily warm,

with dozens of bees

lazily buzzing

through flowers and trees.

Hairy Maclary decided to choose

a space in the shade

for his afternoon

snooze.

He dozily dreamed

as he lay on his back

when…

pittery pattery

skitteryskattery,

ZIP

round the corner

came

Zachary Quack

who wanted to frolic

and footle

and play

but…

Hairy Maclary skedaddled

away.

Over the lawn

and asparagus bed

went Hairy Maclary

to hide in the shed.

He lurked in the shadows

all dusty and black

but…

pittery pattery

skittery skattery,

ZIP

round the corner

came

Zachary Quack.

Out of the garden

and into the trees

jumped Hairy Maclary

with springs

in his knees.

He hid in the grass

at the side of the track

but…

pittery pattery

skittery skattery,

ZIP

round the corner

came

Zachary Quack.

Down to the river

through willow and reed

raced Hairy Maclary

at double the speed.

Into the water

he flew with a

S M A C K

but…

pittery pattery

skittery skattery,

ZIP

round the corner

came

Zachary Quack,

who dizzily dived

in the craziest way,

whirling

and swirling

in showers of spray.

Hairy Maclary

was off in a flash,

a flurry of bubbles

a dog paddle splash.

He swam to the side

and floundered about,

he tried

and he tried

but he C O U LD N ’ T

climb out.

Scrabbling upwards

and slithering back…

when

pittery pattery

skittery skattery,

ZIP

round the corner

came

Zachary Quack,

who sped round a corner

and,

showing the way,

led Hairy Maclary

up, up

and away.

Then,

soggy and shivering

back up the track

went Hairy Maclary

with

Zachary Quack.

It was drowsily warm,

with dozens of bees

lazily buzzing

through flowers and trees.

Hairy Maclary decided to choose

a place in the shade

for his afternoon

snooze.

He dozily dreamed

as he lay on his back…

tucked up together

with

Zachary Quack.

After multiple reads, as parents and grandparents do, it slowly becomes apparent there is a message for us too. (Relax, I won’t kept rhyming my way through this sermon)

For, identifying with Hairy Maclary, we might be able to think of different, persistent, and somewhat annoying people who have followed around after us. Maybe they want to just say hello. Maybe they want to join in. Maybe they want to befriends. But for whatever reason, we like Hairy, don’t want to include them, let alone befriend them – so we avoid them, even run away, hide. Their difference and persistence are a little bit scary.

Then, sometimes, like in our story, there comes a moment (in Hairy’s case when he’s in deep water and can’t get out) when the dogged, determined, difficult ‘other,’ the Zachary Quacks, come into their own, and offer us the help we need.

Some of us too might identify with Zachary who likes Hairy and wants to play. Or maybe become friends. But Hairy keeps running away. What should Zach do? Pursue?? He is resolute and tenacious in his desire to be included.

This is a book, like others by Lynley Dodd, where the bigger message is about belonging, community, and faith. We are not all the same. We are different from each other. And this story is about welcoming those you are different. Being tolerant, patient. And being surprised at what the different may bring, how they might not only help you but broaden you, even befriend you.

This is a book too that affirms the faith of the Zachary’s, their self-confidence that they have something to offer, and their tenacity in proving it.

And baptism, the heart of it, is also about belonging, community, and faith, and what as we grow older belonging, community, and faith might ask of us.

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From the beginnings of Christianity there has been customs of welcoming and baptizing children. Whole households were baptized. For all in the households, especially the weaker and thus more vulnerable members, were included in this ritual of belonging and commitment. Early Jesus communities excluded no one on the basis of age, gender, class, or race.

Children throughout most of recorded history have been seen as the property of their fathers, similar in that sense to women and slaves. It was the father in the ancient Roman world who determined whether a child would live or die. It is estimated that 20-40% of children were either killed or abandoned, with some of the latter surviving as slaves. A child was a nobody unless the father accepted him or her within the family.  

This is the context for the stories of Jesus welcoming and blessing children. In Mark’s Gospel Jesus takes children in his arms, lays his hands on them, and blesses them. These are the bodily actions of a father designating a new-born infant for life rather than death, for acceptance not rejection. Some think there was a debate going on in the early Jesus groups about whether to adopt abandoned children, with some leaders staunchly opposed. Mark aligns Jesus with adoption. Jesus, he says, was good news for children, especially the nobodies.

In John’s Gospel, the author goes a step further than just welcoming children. He includes a story of a young boy, who in response to the hunger of the crowd, offers his five barley loaves and two fish to help feed them. The incredible thing here is not the multiplication miracle that follows (which is aligning the prophetic ministry of Jesus with that of Elijah), but that it is a child who is the catalyst. It is this child who gives up all that he has in order to serve the needs of the many. The child is the exemplar of faith. And it is the disciple Andrew (who doesn’t get the starry write-up that his brother Peter does) that recognizes this faith for what it is: the courage to try and make a difference in the face of need.

One of the things I love about churches, any church, well most churches, is that at their best they try not to be a club for the like-minded but a symbol that all can and do belong. Like the little Zachary Quacks. Eccentricity and difference need to be valued otherwise we might lose them. And then, in time, time and time again, we find those who we might have thought of as Zachary nobodies are, like the boy with the loaves and fish, not only addressing the needs of the world but showing us what faith really is.

The other thing we know from the beginnings of the Jesus movements and then Christianity is that the rite of baptism has kept changing and evolving. There isn’t one right way to do it or to think about. Consider John the Baptist using this Jewish ritual to prepare his followers to be underground warriors for the coming war against Rome. Then, in contrast, consider Jesus who baptized no one. Later baptism would evolve as a rite of cleansing and commitment, ‘off with the old habits and on with the new.’ Then it would evolve further to emphasis belonging; and then belonging not in an inclusive sense but in the sense of ‘we belong and you don’t’. It was used to exclude.

A number of years ago, George Armstrong (the theologian and political activist) wrote a paper on baptism. He understood the water to symbolize the whole world (people, species, plant life, seas, and sky); and the placing of water on a person’s head (or immersion of their body, as in some traditions) to be both a symbol and a celebration of their belonging to the whole world, their interconnection with all life.

And, also, with the water, there was the hope that this child or person being baptized would, in time, not only come to value their interconnection with all life but work to enhance it. That is to enhance life. Care for all life. Work for all life. Protect, fund, and assist those who are vulnerable and suffering, humans or other species. Contribute to making a world that is inclusive of all, a world of justice and peace, a world of dignity and hope.

So, baptism is both about our belonging and also our calling. Our prayer therefore for Lucas, and indeed for each of us, is that we know afresh we belong and are unconditionally loved, and that we live into (and are encouraged into) the high calling of our baptism.

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