Baptism of the Lord Sunday
January 10, 2016
Luke 3:15-22; Isaiah 43:1-7
These first three Sundays in January continue the story
begun at Christmas of the incarnation, that is, God becoming human in Jesus
Christ. Jesus was both fully God and
fully man. At Christmas it was obvious
that he was a normal human being like you and me, and so the lectionary writers
then wanted to make sure we remembered that he was also still God through a
series of revelations, or epiphanies.
Last Sunday was Epiphany Sunday, when the magi came, and it’s also
called God’s revelation to the Gentiles.
Gentiles, being everyone who isn’t Jewish, including me and you, unless
you have some Jewish ancestry, and including those magi. They came from the East. They were outsiders. But God led them through the star to come
worship Jesus. There’s no way a random
group of people would travel a long ways to a foreign land to worship a baby if
there wasn’t something special about that baby.
Then, today, with the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River, it begins
innocently enough, since John the Baptist is baptizing everyone else, too,
except that after Jesus’ baptism, God speaks, “You are my beloved Son; with you
I am well pleased.”[1] This is the revelation of Jesus as God’s
Son. Then, next Sunday we’ll read about
Jesus’ first miracle at the wedding in Cana where he turns water into wine and
we’re told that “[Jesus] revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in
him.”[2] So, we’re in week two of three revelations,
three epiphanies, three “aha!” moments.
Last week we talked about the revelation of light, that our light has
come. Today is about baptism.
And
yet our baptism reading is paired with this beautiful passage from Isaiah. “But now thus says the Lord, he who created
you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed
you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”[3] And that’s exactly what happens in baptism,
God claims us as his own, God calls us by name, just as he did with his own
son, Jesus, “You are my beloved Son.”
Now, I imagine there are a lot of things you might be
called, a lot of names you’ve been called over the years, some good, some bad,
some deserved, some not. You may have
even told the joke to call me any name you want, just don’t call me… late for
dinner. All of those names, all of the
experiences those names represent, they are all part of who you are. Even the times when you’ve been going through
the floods and the fire, good times and bad, all these experiences form you and
are part of who you are, for better or worse.
The thing about them is, though, is that they are also part of your
redemption story. How the water came up
to your neck, but didn’t drown you, or perhaps you did feel drowned, but you
did not die, those times are all part of the story of how God is at work in
your life, redeeming your life. “When
you pass through the waters, I will be with you; when through the rivers, they
won’t sweep over you. When you walk
through the fire, you won’t be scorched and flame won’t burn you.”[4] God has kept you safe through all these
disasters, and will continue to do so all the days of your life.
The book of Isaiah was written in part during exile and part
as God’s people returned from exile.
However, it was not an easy return from exile. They didn’t just hop on a plane or a bus and
ride for a while and then they were home.
No, that deliverance happened while “crossing a desert with few oases, fording
rivers where there were no bridges, and braving wildfires where there were no
fire departments to extinguish them. Deliverance then and there—the actual
return from Babylon to Judea—concretely meant those returning home would very
likely face all these things. These were
serious obstacles. And the word of the Lord is ‘This is part of my redemption,
and I am with you.’ They were thus at once obstacles and pathways of
redemption.”[5] The process of salvation and redemption is
not easy and it is not smooth. It means
the spouse breaking away from the abusive partner, and then having to face them
in court. It means the time it takes to
figure out how to best treat a disease and the time it takes before that
treatment is really effective. It means the
highs and the lows, the long walks alone, crying, and the long talks with good
friends, also crying, as you move on from a traumatic experience. It takes time, it takes energy, it takes
courage, because it is not a smooth path and the process of deliverance, the
process of redemption often includes ordeals.
I pray that by this time you are thinking of your own
story, but in case you need an example to help spark your train of thought, or
if I just need to talk for a few minutes while you think through your own example
and tune me out, I’ll give a minor example.
My engagement ring that I wear is almost 100 years old. It’s a diamond solitaire that my
great-grandfather gave to my great-grandmother some time in the 1920s after
they were married. All that my Grandma
would ever say about her father is that “he was not a nice man.” In today’s terms, he was an abuser. That’s the origin of my ring. Then, when my parents got engaged it was
given to my mom to be her engagement ring.
My mom wore the ring for almost 20 years, until my parents divorced,
then it went and sat in a jewelry box again.
When my husband and I started talking about getting married, I asked my
mom for the ring. I see it as redemption
to wear it during a healthy marriage, and yet the process of redemption isn’t
over yet, as we have not yet finished living into our marriage vows of “til
death shall we part.” That’s how a
redemption story works. It’s got bad
parts. It’s got good parts. It’s got a part that is not finished
yet. But these parts are all part of who
you are. These experiences have all
helped form you and shape you and are part of your redemption story.
Baptism, however, is the primary experience that names you. Who you are is part your experiences and your
salvation story, and who you are is also part of God’s family, because of your
baptism. God calls you his own, God
calls you by name, and that name does not
ever change, even if other names in your life have only been for a time. I used to be Ms. Willet when I was a school
teacher. But this name, God’s beloved
child, doesn’t change, no matter what.
Because, “in the waters of baptism, God seals God’s love for us, no
matter what we might have done and what might happen.”[6] When you were baptized, the pastor made the
sign of the cross on your forehead, marking you as Christ’s own, as belonging
to God, forever.
Probably the funniest thing at my college graduation was
at the end of the ceremony when the President of the college, who was a priest,
because I went to a Jesuit university, got up, held his hands out, and said, “I
now pronounce you sons and daughters of Saint Louis University FOREVER!” Whether God sounds like that in your head,
with a big, booming voice, or sounds more like this voice from heaven at Jesus’
baptism that says, “You are my child, whom I dearly love; in you I find
happiness,”[7] the message is the
same. Because of our baptism, we belong
to God.
Now,
if you haven’t been baptized, or aren’t unsure, I’d love to meet you for coffee
or something and talk about, if God’s nudging you in that direction. Or, if you aren’t officially a member of our
church and would like to join us, we’ve already got two families who are
interested in becoming members, and we’d love to have you join as well. Just let me know. Or if you’ve been coming so long you’re not
sure, just let me know and we’ll find out for you. Regardless of where you are in the process,
together as a congregation we’re going to reaffirm our baptismal covenant, if
you would please turn to page 50 in your hymnal.
