Matthew 3:13-17
Then 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 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.”
So, Jesus shows up to be baptized by his friend, John, who is in the business of baptizing people, in droves it seems, down by the river. He’s blessing them with this ritual cleansing, calling them to repentance, to change, to a new understanding and way of life in the faith. And when Jesus shows up – who John recognizes as someone more powerful and more important than the average Jew or Gentile convert – John says, “wait a minute, I need something from you first. I need to be baptized by you and do you come to me?”
And Jesus says, “Let it be so now.” “Just do this.” “It’s gotta be this way.” “Trust me on this one, and get on with it.” So John consents. He gives in. He plays along. There’s a baptism, and a bird, and a voice from heaven confirming what must have been rumored in a million ways, for anyone else who had known, like John, all that the prophets had declared, all that Mary and Joseph had been told, and all that the events of his birth so many years before had fulfilled: this Jesus, from Nazareth, really was the Son of God.
And everything changes for Jesus after that moment in the river. By the power of his baptism – after the water and the dove and the voice that declared him the “beloved” of God – his ministry is let loose in the world. Without missing a beat – at least according to Matthew’s Gospel – Jesus heads for the wilderness, survives his 40 days of temptation by the Devil there, returns to call his disciples, and gets on with all the preaching and teaching and healing that let people know this Son of God gig was no joke, that this Kingdom of God really was alive in the world, and that everything was about to change. And again, it all started with baptism.
So I wanted to think about baptism that way together, this morning. We all have a time or two or maybe more, in our lives, when everything changes. Sometimes it’s a good thing, for the better. Sometimes it’s not, and things go south. Sometimes it’s to be expected that things would/could/should change. Other times we’re not so sure. Sometimes the changes happen instantly, dramatically, obviously. Other times the changes sneak up on us slowly, quietly, unsuspectingly – like on cat’s feet, as a friend of mine likes to say.
My friend Jamalyn, who many of you know… have heard preach here… maybe even travelled with to Haiti… shared a post on Facebook this week, in memory of the earthquake that destroyed so much of Haiti, back in 2010 – exactly 10 years ago, today, as a matter of fact. Jamalyn happened to be in Fondwa when the earthquake struck and it changed her life. Because of the shock and trauma and sadness and destruction the earthquake heaped upon this place and these people Jamalyn loves – and because of the way the Haitian people in Fondwa loved her through that terrifying experience – she counts it all as a point of demarcation in her life. (That’s the word she used.)
For Jamalyn, there was life before the earthquake and there is now life after the earthquake. It changed so much for her and for her family. It’s why, ultimately, she left ministry as a pastor in the United Methodist Church, to begin ministry with Zanmi Fondwa, to build homes for those people and that community in Haiti.
Baptism can be like an earthquake. It can shake the foundations of our lives in this world, by giving us a glimpse of the next. It means to shift the ground beneath us in a way that makes us see, differently, the suffering of the world around us… to adjust our footing… to get our bearings… and to respond accordingly. Baptism invites us to count our blessings and move us to action as servants of God for the sake of the world.
My high school friend, Jeff, talks about coming out of the closet as a gay man, sometime after high school, as a thing that changed everything for him. Until then he lived life constantly pretending, always looking over his shoulder, always wondering who might suspect or know his secret. He uses the word “trauma” to describe what it’s like to live with that kind of ever-present stress, anxiety, and fear as kid. He talks about coming out as a thing that eased all of that over time. No more secrets. No more pretending. No more lies. No more shouldering the burden of bearing false witness against his very self. When he found the courage to finally tell the truth about himself – his identity – his very nature as a child of God – he was free to love and to be loved in ways that were genuine and true, fulfilling, life-giving and life-changing for him.
Baptism can be like a cosmic coming out. In baptism we are called by name, given a new identity in the name of the Father, +Son and Holy Spirit, and declared “beloved” by the creator of the universe. Baptism invites us to live and move and breathe differently in the world, unburdened by guilt or sin or shame, whether we have done anything to deserve those burdens or not. Baptism is an invitation to live differently because of the truth and fullness of God’s love for us – even if we or the world can’t muster the same kind of grace. Baptism is the love of God giving us permission to live freely… openly… forgiven… beloved… and to live loving others in as many ways as God has already loved us.
Some of you have heard me talk about another high school friend of mine, Dave, who died in a drunk driving accident the summer after we graduated from college. The car was full of other high school friends of ours, too, and the accident changed everything for Dave, obviously. But it changed everything for our friend Jason, the driver, for the others in the car, for Dave’s family, and for many of our friends, too.
And it didn’t happen instantly, by any stretch, but it changed a lot – I’ve come to see it as a point of demarcation – in my own life, too. It was my first big nudge toward seminary… and ordination… and ministry in the Church. At Dave’s funeral, I wanted to hear more and better and different from the priest who presided. In the days that followed, I was forced to consider and to practice mercy and forgiveness and grace where my friends were concerned, especially Jason, the driver. And I wrestled with faith and the hope of the Gospel in a way I had never done before, really. And so here I am.
Baptism is a matter of life and death – in this world and for the next. Baptism is Good News for all of creation, and that includes each of us. It is a reminder that God’s grace has already been poured out, like so much water, through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And Baptism is an invitation for us to live bravely with one foot in all the ugly, broken, sinful, scary, sadness of life in this world, and with another foot firmly planted – with hope – in the notion that God’s love, when shared with and among and for one another, is bigger and better than all of that – and that kind of love makes enduring all the rest possible and worth it, in the end.
I think baptism for Jesus was an earth-shattering, life-changing, point of demarcation that made him see the world around him differently. I believe baptism for Jesus was a coming out, of sorts, that gave him a sense of identity and an understanding of his beloved-ness in God’s eyes; that moved him to share that love so generously with others. And I believe baptism for Jesus was a coming together of life and death… of the brokenness of this world and the beauty of the next… that brought heaven to earth and that gives us a glimpse of God’s kingdom right where we live.
I think baptism – whether we have been or will be one day – is an invitation and call for each of us to be so utterly changed by God’s love for us that we can’t help but share that love and hope and mercy with the world around us, until everyone hears and knows and believes that they, too, are freed… forgiven… beloved by God, and changed by grace in the name of the Father, +Son, and Holy Spirit.
Amen
