Watermark

A Reflection on the Second Reading for July 24th, 2022:
Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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Colossians
2.12-14

Brothers and sisters, when you were buried with Christ in baptism, you were also raised with him through faith in the power of God, who raised Christ from the dead. And when you were dead in trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive together with him, when he forgave us all our trespasses, erasing the record that stood against us with its legal demands. He set this aside, nailing it to the Cross.

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wa·ter·mark
noun

1. a faint design made in some paper during manufacture that is visible when held against the light and typically identifies the maker.

There was a shift in the air in the coming of the new covenant — from the covenant marked with a knife, to the covenant made in the water.

Consider a comparison:

Circumcision: Human hands wielding a knife, the cutting signifying a spiritual connection into a covenantal community of God. Men and boys brought forward on behalf of all. The flesh of fatherhood first sacrificed by one called the ‘father of multitudes on multitudes’ — Abraham gives up what he gets in return.

Baptism: Human hands carrying under the water, the movement enacting a spiritual connection into a covenantal relationship with God. Each brought forward — women, men, children — becoming a community because One died on behalf of all. The flesh of life itself sacrificed by the only one who is Life — Jesus gives up what He gives out freely in return.



Lord, help me to live in my baptism. Help me to leave behind my law.

These are the places I travel between
Buried and Raised
Lost and Found
Dead and Alive
Fettered and Free


There was this list. 
A record of each wrong.
I would take it from my pocket
Pull out a pencil stub
Add to it
And stow it away close to my heart.
Each item something I wanted to fix
To find my value.
Some items I could cross off
Some wrongs I could remove
Only to add more
To the unending elongating list
I kept on me at all times.

Then You came.
Held out Your hand
Waiting for me
To join You in the river
To let myself be lowered
To let the current carry my paper
Into Your palm.
To let You take the list to the Cross
Destroying its details in Your death.
You raising me with Your life
So I can breathe.

So why did I keep the pencil?

I find myself drifting 
Betimes
Back into keeping a list.
Looking to earn
The joy of coming close.

Help me to leave behind my law
That leads to a place of
Buried
Lost
Dead
Fettered

Help me to join You in the water
To come to a place of
Raised
Found
Alive
Free

Let me live in the watermark made by my baptism.




Noreen Smith

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