Luke tells us in Acts about a Roman centurion named Cornelius. This man was a ‘god-fearer’— one of many Gentiles who would hang around a synagogue to listen and to learn. In a world which worshiped a multitude of gods, these ‘god-fearers’ were intrigued by the notion that God is One. In a time of moral decay, they were fascinated by the teaching that God is not only holy but is unwaveringly righteous and just, and thus in a position to demand righteousness and justice from those who worship him. But still these ‘god-fearers’ could not bring themselves to take the plunge; they could not fully commit themselves to the religion of the synagogue but remained content to hang around at the fringes without truly entering the family of God.

When Cornelius heard about an itinerant preacher naed Peter, he sent for him. Peter, who was wise in the ways of the world, realized that this summons came from a member of the conquering race, so he hightailed it to Cornelius’ house. Cornelius was expecting something special, so he called together his kith and kin to hear what the preacher had to say.

Luke makes it clear that they were not disappointed. Peter launched into a sermon— a sermon we heard in its entirety in today’s second reading (and don’t you wish all sermons were so short and to the point?). It ties into today’s theme because it speaks of our Lord’s baptism.

Peter must have been one terrific preacher, his delivery must have been exemplary because Luke goes on to say that everyone who heard it was converted forthwith. Those men and women who had hung around the doors of the synagogue, who had been intrigued by the truth but were not quite willing to go all the way suddenly found themselves wholly seized by the power of the Good News about God’s work in the life of Jesus. Immediately they wanted nothing else than to become part of that life and to have that life become part of them. So Peter “ordered them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ.” And in that Roman household he repeated the ritual which had inagugurated the public ministry of our Lord.

We live in a time and culture which puts little stock in ceremony and ritual. We hear time and again that the outward forms of etiquette and good manners are not nearly as important as our inner feelings and their full expression. The old, solemn turning points in people’s lives such as high school commencement exercises have become excuses for carousing and tossing beach balls. Popular religion has long exhorted us to “put your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee.” Formal ceremonies, we are told, are cold, lifeless, and without meaning; all that matters is that the heart be caught up and swept away— a single mountain-top experience is worth a thousand ceremonies, a life-time of rituals.

It is quite clear, on the other hand, that, in the context of the New Testament, it is inconceivable that a person could participate in the new life in Christ Jesus without first observing the formalities. There is no question about this. There was only one door through which a person could enter the family of God, the company of the saints, and that door was baptism. The story of Cornelius and his household drives this point home very clearly. As soon as Peter finished his sermon, we are told that “the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word. The circumcized believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles.” There was no doubt in anyone’s mind about the emotional state of those Gentiles— they were obviously in the grip of a world class mountain-top experience, the Everest of such experiences! But that was not enough. They still had to go through the proper rite; so Peter “ordered them to be baptized.: Without that form, without that sacrament, without that ceremony, without that sacrament they would have remained on the fringes, mere ‘god-fearers’ still, hovering on the brink of redemption.

We Episcopalians are Christians whom other Christians often criticize for the dry formalism of our worship. After all, “On Jordan’s bank the Baptists cry; the Methodists are drawing nigh; but Anglicans, as is their wont, prefer pure water in a font.” And that makes us something of an anomaly in this day and age. But in the eyes of the New Testament such ‘formalities’ are unquestionably part and parcel of the Christian life. They are the means by which believers advertize their faith to the world.

The rites and ceremonies of the Church are the means of making clear what may otherwise pass unnoticed in the hidden subjectivity of our emotions. If the salvation of my soul alone were the full and sufficent reason for the suffering and death of Christ, then Christianity would need no forms, no ceremonies of Baptism or Eucharist. But the gospel proclamation cries out that Christ died for much more than my paltry soul: he died to redeem the whole creation. It is the Church’s task to carry the light of that redemption into every nook and cranny of the world. In other words, it is the Church’s task to advertise and advertise and advertise— to advertise every aspect of the Good News by giving it form and clarity and objectivity so there can be no mistaking it. Our rites and ceremonies are not empty shows, but the visible proclamation of the great good news of an entire world’s salvation.

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