Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
Every year the Christian calendar sets aside the Sunday after Epiphany to celebrate the Baptism of Jesus. It is an event described or at least mentioned in all four of the gospels. For all of its prominence, however, Jesus’ baptism was a scandal for the early Church and an embarrassment for the gospel writers. Why should Jesus, who was supposedly without sin, need to be baptized, especially with John’s baptism of repentance?
Matthew’s gospel tries to answer the question through John’s attempt to defer to Jesus. “Why do you come to me,” he asks Jesus. “I need to be baptized by you. (Matt. 3:14) Another account from the non-canonical Gospel of the Hebrews deals with Jesus’ baptism this way: Jesus clearly denies he needs to repent but then explains he is being baptized to please his mother.1 (Perhaps that all too human picture of Jesus is why that book didn’t make it into the Bible as we know it today.)
Now, the importance of why Jesus was baptized may not be of significance to us in the way it matters to theologians who love to wrestle with questions like: how can Father, Son and Spirit be equal if the Son was baptized by the Spirit; and when Jesus was on earth was he still fully divine as well as human; and when exactly did Jesus know and claim his vocation and ministry – at birth or at his baptism? Answers to questions such as these have been the stuff of doctrine wars, denominational splits and claims of heresy because they have everything to do with what believers claim about Jesus as Christ, the Messiah.
But whether or not Christological issues concern us or hold much interest, – the fact that Jesus was baptized, I believe, has much to offer our own journeys of faith, especially Luke’s sparse description of it. There’s not a lot of detail in Luke’s account and what is unique is the mention of others being baptized: “Now when all the people were baptized, and Jesus also had been baptized…” (3:21a) It’s as if Luke is saying Jesus intentionally chose to identify with us. Jesus simply got in line with everyone who had been broken by the wear and tear of this world and took his place with those hurting and damaged people who needed God.2 Jesus openly and decisively stepped in the water in solidarity with all who hunger and thirst for healing, wholeness and renewal.
And then, Jesus stepped out of the water committed to the way of servant, called forth to act in humility of spirit, letting the current of God’s love take him wherever it would lead. Or, as one writer phrases it, Jesus stepped out of the water “to bring hope and love into the sacred spheres of ordinariness”.3
For as much as I affirm and have always practiced infant baptism, and each one I’ve done in my almost 32 years of ministry is a poignant and precious memory, I have to also say that there is a deep level that I have experienced with adult and young adult baptism and a power that comes when it involves stepping into the water and being totally immersed. The first such baptism by immersion I did was about 20 years ago for a 6th grader who insisted on being baptized in a river because that’s how Jesus was baptized. We decided to do it as part of the all church picnic as it was being held in a park along the Zumbro River (in Rochester, MN), so the day before, I went to the site to see how deep the water was. I was actually afraid the water level wouldn’t be much above our knees.
Well, it looked deep enough, and when I put a stick in, my best guess was that the water level would come up safely just above my waist. It was supposed to be comfortably warm and sunny on Sunday, so I thought we were all set.
The next day, with great expectation the congregation gathered at the river’s edge. Jeff and I stepped in the water and walked toward the middle, quickly realizing it was a spring-fed river and it was freezing. Moreover, there was a drop off just beyond where I had put in my stick the day before. I had a moment of sheer panic about the water carrying us away. Very carefully I made sure not to step in over my head, not to mention over Jeff’s head, and the baptism proceeded without incident. I will never forget the poignant sense of God’s presence in the currents of the river and how we all were being carried on the waters of grace – the two of us standing in the cold and wet, as well as all those along the banks.
Maybe your baptism was so long ago that you have no memory of it, not even a shred of story told about it. Maybe you haven’t been baptized. Yet, as you consider Luke’s account of Jesus’ baptism, and think about all the reasons you are here this morning, I invite us to hold onto the image of stepping into the water both as a way of identifying with our brothers and sisters around the world who are broken, in need of love and hope and healing; and as a way of allowing the currents of God’s love to take us wherever God will. As we step into the mystic stream of blessing, how might the waters shape and guide us as a river does with stone? What would the worst thing be about being carried away by the currents of holy presence and adventure?!
There is no need to fear the currents, for Jesus did not stay in the water long. In the weeks to come we will hear how he stepped out of the water to eat with sinners, to confound his hometown, to wrestle with powers and principalities, and always, always to grace others with love and hope.
And like Jesus, we too, are called to step out of the water and invited to a similar identity and vocation in the way of servant. As we claimed earlier in our Baptism promises, “Following in the ways of Jesus our brother, as together we do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God.”
How each of us lives those promises out will be as unique and wonderful as we each are. But if you are like me, I find that something visual and tangible helps remind me of a commitment made, an invitation accepted – hence, the little cup you were each given as you came in. I want to suggest this morning a kind of reverse Gathering of Many Waters.
When you leave worship today, there will be bowls of water at each door, each with just a touch of the water this community has gather from many places and joined together. I challenge you, invite you to take some of water to wherever your journey takes you. What of the blessings of this congregation, the wisdom and love of God and your own gifts might you be called to step out and share?
Now what I suggest logistically is not literally to fill up your cup with water as you leave. But I do invite you to dip your cup into the water and pour it back as a simple ritual of reminding yourself of the One whose waters of love and healing never run dry and whose wells of compassion are deepened by our gathering together. Then take that cup with you with all its symbolism of the water we and God have shared, and leave it wherever you will see if often- on the kitchen table, on top of your dresser, on your desk at work, in your car – wherever it will remind you of the call and invitation to step out in blessing. My greatest hope, dear friends, is that this cup will prompt you to be carried away – that you, too, might bring hope and love into the sacred spheres of ordinariness. Amen.
1. Daniel Clendenin, Journey with Jesus, 1/7/13
2. Bartlett and Taylor, Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 1, p.236
3. Suzanne Guthrie, Edge of the Enclosure, Epiphany 1, Year C