I am so looking forward to it, not just because it will be a great family celebration, but also because it will bind Abigail to Anne and me in a very special way. To be a godparent means more than just sending gifts and cards on birthdays, Christmases, and at confirmation, after all. Being a godparent entails the taking on of a spiritual responsibility. I know this from previous experience, for this will be the second time I become a godparent. Let me tell you a little about how I became a godparent the first time, as I believe it will help us focus on the nature of the spiritual responsibility all godparents have.

Before I came to Saint James, before I was ordained, I served as lay chaplain to the Washington Episcopal School in the D.C. area-"WES," for short. As chaplain at WES, I was responsible for teaching a once-weekly religion class to every grade level in the school, from nursery through eighth grade. During my first week of teaching, I entered one of the sixth grade homerooms to introduce myself and to get acquainted with the students. One of them was Julian Smith.

Despite his surname, Julian Smith's family is anything but nondescript. His mother is from Portugal and his father is a diplomat; his grandparents on his father's side are Jewish and his grandparents on his mother's side are Roman Catholic. When Julian was born, his Jewish grandmother wanted him to be circumcised and his Roman Catholic grandmother wanted him to be baptized. Since one choice or the other would alienate half the family, Julian's parents chose to do neither, with the understanding that Julian himself would decide later in life what, if anything, he wanted to be. In a small but significant twist of fate, however, it was his Jewish grandparents who helped pay his tuition at an Episcopal school.

All through sixth grade, Julian was an avid learner, devouring the great stories of the Old and New Testaments. He asked many questions and participated actively, as any good student would. The next year, I had Julian in two classes: seventh grade English and religion. One day, Julian approached me after chapel and said, "Mr. Humphrey, I think I'd like to be baptized. And I want you to do it."

This floored me. And of course, I wanted to baptize him right then and there. Two problems became immediately apparent, however: Julian had no formal parish affiliation, and I was not yet ordained. So I called the bishop, who instructed me to help Julian find a parish home. The bishop would not allow me to do the baptism, but I could stand as Julian's godfather.

As it turned out, Julian had gone several times with a WES friend and his family to a large family-oriented parish in D.C., which had just called one of my seminary friends as an associate rector. So I called my pal, told him the situation, and he said, great: have Julian start coming more regularly with his friend's family, and we would tag-team in preparing Julian over the next few months. Julian would be baptized at the Great Vigil of Easter.

When Julian told his parents he wanted to be baptized, I think they were more than a little surprised, but they were proud that Julian had made up his own mind about his faith in claiming the Episcopal Church for himself. His father may have been a bit wary at first, but when he came with his son to the Great Vigil, he was visibly moved by the beauty, solemnity, and joy of the commitment that Julian was making.

Since then, my godson Julian has moved on to an Episcopal boarding school, where he assists at chapel and continues to be formed by the faith he has chosen. I see Julian several times a year and communicate with him from time to time via e-mail, telephone, and the post. This past September, when Anne and I married, Julian served as one of my groomsmen.

Julian is the exception, of course, not the rule. Most baptismal candidates cannot speak for themselves, and this morning's baptism [at 10:15] will follow the more conventional route. When I made my promises as Julian's godfather, I had it pretty easy-Julian had already embraced for himself what I was also embracing for him. But the responsibilities of a godparent are the same whether the one baptized is an infant, a child, a teenager, or an adult.

The prayerbook summarizes these responsibilities in two questions: "Will you be responsible for seeing that the child you present is brought up in the Christian faith and life?" and "Will you by your prayers and witness help this child to grow into the full stature of Christ?" To both of these questions, the parents and godparents answer, "I will, with God's help." Those last three words, "with God's help," are, I think, perhaps more important than the "I will" part. For without God's help, we can't do anything. Bringing up a child in the Christian faith without relying on God's help is like trying to grow an oak tree without rain. When we say that we will do something with God's help, we mean that we ourselves are in need of that rain to grow-for a tree whose branches are withered from drought cannot shade the sapling struggling to grow beneath it.

The responsibilities that the parents and godparents take on are then explicated in six questions, which consist of three rejections and three acceptances. Three times, parents and godparents (and candidates, like Julian, who can speak for themselves) are asked whether they renounce evil, and three times they are asked whether they accept Jesus Christ, each question nuancing and specifying what it means to say no to Satan and yes to God.

At every baptism, following these questions, the congregation is asked, "Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support these persons in their life in Christ?" In other words, will everyone present support not only the candidate, but the candidate's family and sponsors? And guess what? Once you answer, "We will" (the "with God's help" being implied), you've all been co-opted. Recruited. Enlisted. You have all become godparents.

You see, that's the beauty of baptism in the Episcopal Church: that in the final analysis, we are all godparents; we all promise to support each other in our faith journeys. And so this homily is directed, not just to the edification of the godparents of any one particular candidate, but to everyone present, whether you have specific godchildren or not.

On the great baptismal feast days of the Church, such as today, when we celebrate the baptism of our Lord, we renew our Baptismal Covenant at every service, whether there's a baptism or not. We reaffirm the central tenets of our faith by promising-again, with God's help-to engage in the five central disciplines of our faith. We promise (1) to continue to come together as the church and be formed by prayer and fed by the sacraments, (2) to repent from our sins, (3) to proclaim in our lives what we profess with our lips, (4) to seek Christ in others, loving them as we love ourselves, and (5) to strive for that justice and peace, which the world cannot give-for all people, no matter who they are.

Whew! That's some tall order! But the wonderful thing about this liturgy is that it is a touchstone of the Christian faith. When we are confused about what's important in this world, what our priorities should be, how we should live, it is to this liturgy that we can turn, time and again, to re-center ourselves, to remind us of what it means to be a child of God and a godparent to God's children.

At staff meeting just this past week, Marta Riemer reminded me of what it means to be a godparent. We were sitting around the table sharing our experiences of being godparents, and she drew our attention to the collect that the celebrant prays after all candidates have been baptized, just before the congregation welcomes them into the household of God: "Give them an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works."

That about covers it, don't you think? Take a moment later on today to think of all the ways you can mediate God's gift of joy and wonder to your children and godchildren, and to each other. We are all godparents and we can all, with God's help, build a community filled with the same Spirit that descended upon Christ at his baptism. This Spirit makes it possible to know and to love God, to inquire after what God would have for us, and to have the courage and will to bring our discernment to fruition.

We are all godparents. May God, the parent of us all, give us grace to be godparents today and always. Amen.