Baptismal Waters

The Jordan River.

October 11, 2015

Matthew 3:1-17 

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, 2 “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 3 This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’”  4 Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. 5 Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, 6 and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.

7 But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruit worthy of repentance. 9 Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 10 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

11 “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14 John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” 15 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. 16 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. 17 And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

Sermon: “Baptismal Waters”

It was February 9, 1964.  Magician Fred Kaps was something of a success already: he was a three-time grand prix winner from an international society of magicians.  He was charming, funny, and already had quite a following.  But now he had arrived!  You see, on February 9, 1964, Fred was to perform his magic on the Ed Sullivan show.

As you probably know, making it to that show guaranteed success as an entertainer.  But perhaps not on that particular night.

You see as Fred was backstage going over his act and preparing himself, the act before him took the stage: four blokes from England with matching haircuts and suits and a bizarre insect name: The Beatles.

Would anyone remember Fred Kaps after that?  Not likely.  The Beatles were a tough act to follow.

I know something about what that’s like.

You see, you’ve never heard of me.  My name has never appeared in your holy scriptures.  But I bet you remember the name of the fella who baptized me (ironically one of those “Beatles” names): John.  And I bet you remember the name of the fella who was baptized right before I was: Jesus.

It was a tough act to follow.  There were hundreds of us at the Jordan River that day.  We were all Jews – from all over – Jerusalem, Judea and all the villages that bordered the river.  Every day people came for their ritual cleansing, partly, I’d imagine because it was hot as the dickens and water was a welcome refreshment.  And partly because of that strange, compelling character John, with his wild animal fur and honey stuck in his beard.  He proclaimed a thrilling take on God – a God who was coming soon, and who would baptize us with fire and not just water, a God who would set the world right, calling out the wickedness of the powerful and bringing repentance to the entire land.

Every day, people came to the Jordan.  I could have gone the day before, and maybe have had more attention from John during my baptism.  But I didn’t.  I went to that old river the same day Jesus did and, as fate or the universe or God would have it, I wound up right behind him in the line to those waters.

Ritual cleansings happened all the time for us Jews, and so none of us expected anything out of the ordinary that day.  As Jesus (a surprisingly small fellow, you know) waded into those warm waters, John began going through the motions like a pro: placing a hand across his back, another around his waist, and tipping him backwards down into the waters.  You can tell he had done this hundreds, if not thousands, of times before.

But this was not like those other times.  Right before John was about to dunk Jesus into those waters, he stopped.  “Wait!” he said, squinting at him.  “What’s your name? You can’t be the One I’ve told so many about, can you?”  Jesus seemed almost shy as he told his name and answered that he was, in fact, this prophesied Lord.  John nearly dropped him with shock.  “But…but you should baptize me!  I’m not worthy to even untie your shoes, never mind baptize you!”   When John started getting out of the water, Jesus stopped him.

“Wait, John.” he said.  “You know it was always meant to be you baptizing me.  And you know that worthiness has nothing to do with it.  You are here, I am here, and holiness doesn’t wait.  We need to do this to fulfill all righteousness.”

So, John, shaking like a leaf the whole time, bless him, dunked Jesus into those waters.  As he brought Jesus back up, the craziest thing happened.  The heavens opened, a strange bird-shape came down upon Jesus and a voice spoke saying, “This is my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” 

John was so shocked that this time he actually dropped Jesus back into the water! There was some sputtering and, as Jesus came back up, he was laughing.  Laughing like a child who knows complete safety in the presence of a loving parent.  Laughing like a God who is not angry or bitter, but overflowing with delight at each and every drop of creation.

And then, just as quickly as it had all happened, it was over.  Jesus went on his way, no longer laughing, but somehow determined.  Legend has it, he went straight to the wilderness and was tempted in the worst ways, to make sure he was really ready for all that lay ahead of him.

And then, like that forgotten magician following The Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show, it was my turn.  John looked totally dumbstruck, but he still had a job to do.  The line snaked for a long distance behind me, and most had come many miles to be baptized by him.  So he beckoned me into the waters with a still-shaking hand, and as he placed one hand on my back, and an arm around my waist, I felt his quaking.  After all, encountering all that holiness is terrifying.  There’s a reason God mostly comes to us in ordinary ways.

But, as that terrified prophet tipped me back into those waters, I felt so much wash away.  Because of who had come to the waters just before me, I felt my doubt leave me.  I felt my lostness wash away.  I felt my deep, soul-weary loneliness depart.  And I might not have heard a voice booming from the heavens like Jesus did, but deep within my sopping-wet body, I knew, with every single drop of that used water:  I am God’s beloved child.  God is pleased with me.

No less pleased than God was pleased with the main act who came before me. 

We all need to hear that, you know.  I suspect even Jesus needed to hear those words that would make him laugh in the face of death.  And the beautiful thing is, John wasn’t really worthy to be a part of such a holy sacrament.  None of us are.  But God comes – the Spirit like fire that warms our cold souls – comes, through quaking, quirky mystics who get the words wrong and send water up someone’s nose.  Baptism isn’t about being worthy.  It’s about being claimed by God and one another, just as we are.

That’s why sometimes babies are baptized, reminding us that those waters and God’s saving are never our doing, but God’s gracious gift to us.

That’s why sometimes we are baptized a bit older instead, reminding us that we can always choose to respond to God’s grace with acts of faith.

I only saw Jesus one time after that day at the Jordan.  It was a very different day.  He was not being raised to new life out of waters.  Quite the opposite.  And from that desperate place on that lonely hill, I heard him cry with a voice that tore the heavens open a second time: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

There was no laughter that day.  But it seemed to me that, as soon as Jesus spoke aloud those bitter words, he was more at peace.  It seemed to me that he heard, somewhere deep within himself in that place of overwhelming despair, a place we all know, “You are my child, my beloved.  I am well pleased with you.”

You see, if we really believe what God tells us at baptism, that we are completely and wholly claimed as God’s own child, a delight to our Creator, there’s nothing we can’t do.  Even die for each other. 

And of course, the powerful part of Jesus’ story, is that death wasn’t a tough act for him to follow after all.  What came next was even more amazing: joyful, laughing, delightful life.  The sort of life that brings life to the entire world.  Sometimes, I reckon you just have to go down into the waters before you can come up again.

But it makes that first healing breath all the more wonderful.  Because whether you’re dunked like I was or sprinkled, you’re claimed by God’s Spirit who breathes through you, resonating through your entire broken being that you are chosen by God and you are loved. 

I guess what I’m sort of saying is, with a God like that,  “All You Need is Love.”  Hmm, someone should write a song about that…  Amen.