Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
Sermon by the Rev. Carole Horton-Howe
One of the oddest stories of baptism was told to me by a priest living in Montana – where it snows a lot this time of year. Her two boys were very young -- 4 years and 18 months. Her 18-month-old, Jamie, had been baptized on Epiphany Sunday a few days before. She picked them up from preschool, strapped the youngest into his car seat while 4 year old Stephen – she thought – stood nearby. Then he got into the car and into his booster seat – and threw a snowball at his little brother. And asked “Jamie, did that remind you of your baptism?” Of course, mom was shocked but no harm was done.
And so today we come to another odd baptism story, another moment that is shocking: Jesus, who was without sin, who has no need of repentance or change of life practices, whose death saved us from our sins, presents himself to his cousin, John, to be baptized in the river Jordan. It’s been the subject of mystery and controversy pretty much since it happened. Imagine it in more modern setting:
It’s kind of like running into Jesus at the St. John the Baptizer traffic school. You know, the school for people who need a second chance before their driver’s license is taken away.
So, of course, we all show up ready to do whatever it takes to hold onto that precious piece of ID. And to our surprise, Jesus is there when we arrive – not teaching the class as we might expect; not passing out donuts and coffee to sustain us. Not even being the tech guy who gets everything going. Nor is he the judge who commutes all of our sentences.
What we don’t expect, the oddest thing of all, is that Jesus - who we know never ran a red light or went faster than the speed limit - is that Jesus is in the seats alongside of with us. In other words, it doesn’t make sense. What is Jesus doing in the water, in the mud, with the riff-raff who need cleansing of their sins? And why do we hear this story every year right after Christmastide and at the Epiphany? The heavens burst open and the voice of God is heard. And the spirit in the form of a dove comes to rest upon Jesus. “This is my son, the beloved. In him I am well pleased. We don’t understand it. But we don’t have to. It just is.
And it is a message counter to most of those we hear all the time, counter to the voices of our culture even those we claim not to hear. One expert has calculated that the average American encounters over 2,000 advertisements every day. It adds up over time – it adds up to something like an entire year of our lives – a year when we are prompted and prodded and inundated with messages that tell us that plastic surgery and Botox will make us more loveable.
That same expert, Jean Killbourne, authored a documentary called Killing Us Softly. It details the damage that these kind of messages inflict upon our souls, our identities and our way in the world. So much so, she says, nearly that nearly half of all girls ages 3-6 years old worry about their weight. Think about that - 3 to 6 years olds.
Where can we look for the antidote for these messages?
Opal Singleton created “A Million Kids” a non-profit organization dedicated to halting the on-line trafficking of our children. She says that just four simple words from any adult or all the adults in our children’s lives are the most powerful antidote to these harmful messages. Four simple words: “I believe in you.”
Today’s story of Jesus’s baptism is an Epiphany story. It is a revelation in the moment of baptism when the true identity of Jesus is revealed. Not to reign from some far away heaven, but by taking the plunge with all of us, in the water, in the mud, in the flesh. And so it is also our story. We are reminded of our own identities in Christ. An identity that can never be revoked or taken away. We remember that Jesus’ ministry is our ministry. The Holy Spirit is poured out upon us and we receive spiritual gifts to last a lifetime.
And God has a few simple words for us too: “You are my beloved. In you I am well pleased.”
I used to visit someone who had a picture of an old time revival baptism where everyone’s gathered at the river’s edge. And all the church ladies are there dressed up with their hats and gloves on. There’s someone in the water and people ready to dunk him. I admired it on our visits. My host said it always reminded her of the moment we join our spiritual ancestors in saying yes to God. “It reminds me, she said “of becoming a place where God happens. Of claiming my identity.” No matter what the voices of our culture say, in baptism those are drowned out with the only voice that really matters: “You are my beloved… in you I am well pleased.”
Whatever was before is no more. Wherever we may have been doesn’t matter. Whatever messages the world sends us, we emerge from the waters of baptism a new creation, forever changed, forever a place where God happens.
Through baptism we grasp the presence of God and live in it. Through baptism we live at God’s hand, trusting God’s purposes. We find joy where many think that joy cannot be found. We find meaning and grace that make our total lives stronger than death itself. Living at God’s hands. Should God ask great things, God will supply great means.
In a few minutes we will renew our own baptismal covenant. The liturgy is in your bulletin. I invite you take it home with you and choose one of those promises to focus on during the Epiphany season. Pray about it daily and invite it to work on you. If you do, I promise that your spiritual life will be transformed. Perhaps you will focus on
· Continuing the apostle’s teaching, the fellowship, in the breaking of bread and the prayers.
· Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever – not it, whenever you fall into sin will you repent and return to the Lord?
· Will you proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Jesus Christ?
· Will you seek and serve Jesus Christ in all persons loving, loving your neighbor as yourself?
· Will you strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being?
Let it grow within you. The rest of the sentence – is the key. Can you say with your whole heart. I will. I will with God’s help.
Ultimately this is about what God through Jesus Christ has already done for us. Jumping onto the waters of the river of life and all for love of us.
However odd this baptism story is, it is our story even if we think it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It just is.
It’s the story of creation formed out of such dark waters as these.
It’s the story of a young Jewish woman visited by God in a way that confounded her fiancé but made her sing.
It’s the story of a wild man out in the desert proclaiming a new kingdom of water and fire.
It’s the story of one without sin who was baptized with sinners like us whose death will save us.
It may feel like a snowball in the face. But it is our chance to claim Jesus who first claimed us. The one who never asks us to go anywhere he has not already been. From dust to dust, and ashes to ashes. From the cradle of the waters of baptism to the grave he knows what we are up against and has shown us how to live so that life never ends.
Choosing to go God’s way, choosing whatever will bring us closer together and above all, choosing all the things of the earth – doves, water, mud, flesh, love – to carry out the purposes of heaven. And murmuring to us over and over again: “You are my beloved. With you I am well pleased.” Amen.