“Christiana Sum”
and the confession of God’s love for us
Sermon preached at
St. Mark’s,
by The Rev. Thomas C. Pumphrey, January 13th, 2008
The First Sunday after Epiphany (The Baptism of our Lord)
Isaiah 42:1-9
Matthew 3:13-17
Isaiah 42:1-9 Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my
chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring
forth justice to the nations. He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it
heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick
he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice. He will not grow
faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth; and the
coastlands wait for his teaching.
Thus says God, the Lord, who created the heavens and
stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives
breath to the people upon it and spirit to those who walk in it: I am the Lord,
I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you;
I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open
the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the
prison those who sit in darkness. I am the Lord, that is my name; my glory I
give to no other, nor my praise to idols. See, the former things have come to
pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth, I tell you of
them.
Matthew 3:13-17 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the
Here’s a new phrase to learn: “Christiana Sum.” If you are a man, you would say it slightly differently: “Christianus Sum.” These words carried with them the price of death for those who dared to say it for many centuries. In many places around the world, it still means the end of your life. Even in Columbine Colorado, Cassie Bernall died because in her own words she agreed: “Christiana Sum!” Many years ago, an aristocratic twenty-two year old woman named Vibia Perpetua uttered those words in front of her family and townspeople, and most importantly, in front of the Roman governor of Carthage, in North Africa. Her father begged her to simply burn a little incense to the Roman Emperor to spare her life—to consider her family and even her young baby. But Perpetua replied with words that would send her to her death: “Christiana Sum!” I am a Christian!
I think of Perpetua when we celebrate Baptism. Perpetua was a catechumen. A Catechumen is a person who is preparing for Baptism—one who is being taught about the Christian faith and life. In the first and second century, catechumens prepared for a year or two before they were baptized. They attended the liturgy of the word—hearing from scripture and from the writings of the Apostles (what we would call the New Testament) and hearing the sermon of the bishop or priest. Then, before the liturgy of the table—the communion—all who were not baptized were dismissed from the assembly, until they were Baptized at the Easter Vigil and admitted to communion. Perpetua was preparing for Baptism when she was brought before the authorities and charged with being a Christian. Her family and others begged her to recant to save her life, but she would not. The Governor begged her to recant even for her family’s sake, but she would not. “Christiana Sum” she replied: I am a Christian.
So she was sent to prison with a group of Christians who supported each other there. Deacons came from the bishop and Perpetua was baptized while in prison. She received visions that would encourage her and her companions. Then on March 7, AD 202, she was sent to the arena to face wild animals, and eventually die by a soldier’s sword. She recorded her experiences in a journal while in prison, and someone added the background and the story of her death and recorded it for the church. We celebrate the saints day of Perpetua and her companions on March 7. She was willing to suffer greatly simply to declare her love for our Lord—simply to make the public confession: “Christiana Sum,” I am a Christian!
Most of us will not face the kind of threat Perpetua faced, but we will have the opportunity to face subtle choices. In Perpetua’s day, the choice was burning a little incense and saying “I am a Christian.” Each were small, simple actions. Each small, simple action had consequences that would add up either for the forces against God, or for the witness of the power of God.
Each day, we face choices of simple actions that can also add up to significant gains for God, or to further erosion of the priorities that we promised in our Baptism and renewed last week. In Baptism, we renounce the forces that turn us away from God—spiritual, physical and social. We accept God’s grace and mercy and we promise to follow and obey Jesus. We declare who we know God to be, and we make promises for the Christian life—continuing in the fellowship and ministry and prayers of the church, practicing repentance and reconciliation with God, proclaiming Jesus Christ, serving the world in Christ’s name.
So when the soccer coach schedules practice for Sunday morning, we can stand on our Baptismal promises and say “Christiana Sum! Christianus Sum! I am a Christian!”
When we see clearly how to avoid penalties by cheating on your taxes, we can respond “Christiana Sum! I am a Christian.”
When your relationships with your family deteriorate, and your friends encourage you to take the easier path and just walk away, you can instead respond by word and example, “I am a Christian.”
When you have a choice to go along with polite pluralism or intolerant secularism by hiding your faith (so as “not to offend”), you can respond “I am a Christian.” You have the choice to raise your kids on materialism or self-sacrifice; between the value of self above all else, or the value of Jesus Christ above all else.
You could harbor bitterness toward your ex-wife or abusive father or the church member who snubbed you, or you can say “I am a Christian” and respond with forgiveness and an effort to reconcile. You could support laws and policies that divide people, or use force to dominate, or policies that undermine Christian virtue—or you can speak out and be willing to give as a reason “I am a Christian.”
You could sleep-in on Sundays or catch the latest TV re-runs on the night of the Bible Study—or fulfill the promises of your baptism by continuing in the apostles’ fellowship and teaching, the breaking of bread and the prayers.
We could keep polite silence with our friends, or we could fulfill our baptismal promises and proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ. We could put our money into the latest jet-ski, or into the relief of the poor and suffering, seeking and serving Christ in them, respecting the dignity and worth of everyone.
Each day, we have the opportunity to give subtle support to the forces that break us apart and minimize Jesus Christ. Each day, we also have the opportunity to strengthen our relationship with God and to bear witness to the life-changing power of God through our choices. By our words and our choices, we confess first to God and to ourselves, and then to the world around us the same confession that Perpetua made: I am a Christian.
God meant more to Perpetua than her riches or her status or even her family. Jesus Christ had become her joy, her life, her freedom. She was willing to make the costly confession of her devotion to God with the same confession we made as we renewed our Baptismal covenant last Sunday. Why would Perpetua make such a costly confession? Why would we make such a solemn commitment as Baptism?
Here what the scripture readings for this morning say: God created the heavens and stretched them out, spread out the earth and what comes from it. God gives breath to the people upon it and spirit to those who walk in it. God says to his servant—and to us—“I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out…from the prison those who sit in darkness.”
When we make our confession of faith, we follow in the footsteps of Jesus, and through him we become adopted children of God, and we receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. Look what happened to Jesus at his baptism, for God sends us the same message of his grace: When Jesus was Baptized, the spirit of God descended to him, and the voice of God the Father spoke from heaven, saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
Somewhere in her life, Perpetua heard the voice of her heavenly Father speaking to her, and telling her how much he loved her. She felt the freedom of his forgiveness, and the strength of his power. Somewhere in our lives, we connect with God so deeply, that even though we don’t fully understand God, we know that God is real, and that God cares for us. The more we open ourselves to God, the more we see God at work in our lives—the more we see God reaching out to bless us, and restore us and renew us. We learn to know that our relationship with God is life-changing and powerful. We learn to know that in Jesus Christ, not even our suffering and death can separate us from the love of God.
When we have a taste of those blessings, then we come to understand the passion of Perpetua and her companions. We learn to join with them and with those around the world whose joy is in the Lord and who face the choices of this world with the priorities of God. And when the time comes, because God has given us so much more than the world could possibly give—because Jesus made his confession of faith in his baptism and his life and his death and his resurrection—we can also respond to the world “Christiana Sum! Christianus Sum! I am a Christian!”