"Jesus' Baptism and Ours." A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Baptism of the Lord Sunday

"Jesus' Baptism and Ours"

Luke 3:15-22

Here we are again, in the season of Epiphany, on Baptism of the Lord Sunday.  Each year the lectionary gives us the story of Jesus’ baptism, as told by Matthew, Mark, or Luke.  This year, it’s Luke. 

Most of the third chapter of Luke follows the story of John's ministry as told by Matthew and Mark.  John is the voice crying in the wilderness… John baptizes hundreds who came out to be baptized. We hear John making it clear that he isn't the Messiah:  "I baptize you with water," he said, "but one who is more powerful than I is coming.  I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire."

But then Luke adds a little interlude about Herod being very angry with John, because John had charged him with stealing his brother's wife.  Indeed, Luke tells us Herod was so upset that he shut John up in prison. The lectionary wants to omit these verses. They interrupt the narrative we’re used to hearing, and they complicate how we interpret the story of Jesus’ baptism. But I think Luke included the verses for a reason.

After the little interlude about Herod throwing John into prison, the story goes on. "Now, when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized.

But how could John baptize Jesus if John was in prison? Or is Luke simply writing about something that had already happened before Herod imprisoned John?

If we pay close attention, we might notice that Luke doesn’t say anything about Jesus' baptism. There's nothing here about Jesus going down into the water or coming up out of the water. We probably assume that this happened as the other gospels tell the story, but Luke doesn't seem to be very interested in the actual moment of baptism-- but only what happened after baptism.

What Luke seems to be more interested in is that Jesus was praying when the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove.

There’s another difference in the way Luke tells the story. In the different accounts, we hear John saying, “I baptize you with water, but one who is more powerful than I is coming.”  But Luke goes on to say, “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary. But the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.

            Now, I know some people’s minds connect the “fire” John talks about to the fires of hell, but that’s not what this is about. Generally, “fire” in the Bible isn’t about punishment, but about purification.  This imagery is about Jesus separating the good grain in our lives from the chaff—which is the husk part that is often thrown away-- and how the chaff would be burned away.
            Luke tells us that, when Jesus was baptized, the spirit in the form of a dove came upon him. As Adam Ericksen points out, the symbol of the Roman Empire was a fierce eagle—a bird of prey. The early Christians had a different symbol: a peaceful dove.[1]
            Luke pictures John the Baptist as an end-time prophet who announced that the world was about to change, that the realm of God was being ushered in—a new world in which all things would live together in love, peace, justice, mutual support, freedom, and dignity.
            When John called people to repent and be baptized, he was calling them to turn away from complicity with the old age and its values and behaviors and to turn toward the coming realm. John announced that the one who was coming would be more powerful, and would bring in the new kingdom and leave the Holy Spirit to empower the community to continue to witness to the realm.

When Jesus was held under the water by John the Baptist, whenever it happened, he showed what baptism is, for Jesus and for us. It’s a sign of what’s already true—no matter what the Herods or Caesars of this world say. God tells us who we are: “You are a beloved child of God.”

            Jesus’ baptism was an epiphany moment—as the Holy Spirit descends upon him… and he and others heard confirmation from God: “You are mine.  Beloved.  I am well pleased with you.” 
            Baptism teaches us who we are – God’s beloved children.   It reminds us of the promise:  God loves us unconditionally.   Baptism reminds us that we discover who we are in relation to whose we are:  God’s beloved children.  We belong to God’s family, and baptism is a tangible sign of that.
            Baptism is about knowing who we are, so we don’t waste precious time searching frantically for an identity that something or someone else can confer on us-- but instead, use our lives to live out our God-given, baptism-shaped identity.
            The same Spirit that descended on Jesus baptizes us!   We can live in confidence that-- no matter how often we fall short or fail-- nothing that we do or fail to do can change the fact that we are God’s beloved children.  This identity is something God gives us—as a gift.
            Maybe you don’t remember, but at your baptism, that voice named and claimed you.   We need to remember our baptism.  So, turn to your neighbor, and remind them.    Tell them, you are God’s child...  God’s beloved.   God loves you and claims you.  [Some people even got out of their seats to share this good news.  There were smiles and maybe a handshake or hug or two.]
            There’s something else we need to remember: at our baptism, God gave each of us the gift of the Spirit.   So, let’s turn to one another and remind one another:  You’ve got the Spirit, because God gave it to you when you were baptized.
[Again, people moved around a bit and made sure everybody was reminded that they’ve got the Spirit.]

Okay, so what does all this mean? 

            Without the rest of Jesus’ life, his baptism isn’t something we can comprehend.  We can only comprehend the purpose of Jesus’ baptism when we look at the days and years that followed that day in the Jordan.  It’s when we see Jesus taking his place with hurting people that his baptism starts to make sense.  Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan foreshadowed his baptism on the cross.  Baptism was Jesus’ commissioning for ministry.
            During the week before his death, Jesus was challenged by the leaders of the temple: “By what authority do you do these things?”
            Jesus answers by referring to his baptism: “Was the baptism of John from heaven-- or not?”  In other words, I was baptized.  That’s how all this started.”  It was in the waters of baptism that Jesus heard the Spirit calling him to speak the truth and to live with grace.
            In baptism, God proclaims God's grace and love for us.  God claims us and marks us as God’s own.  We have a new identity as members of the body of Christ.
            So, we are baptized and begin a lifelong journey with God...  a lifelong process of conversion and nurture that begins at the font and doesn't end until death, until we are at last tucked safely into the everlasting arms of the God who first reached for us in baptism.
            God keeps on reaching out for us throughout our lives.  God isn't finished with any of us yet.  Every day we live out our baptism.  Every day we need to respond to God's gracious gifts in our lives...  open ourselves again to God's work in our lives...  say yes in all the big and little things we do and people we meet and promises we keep throughout the day.
            A major part of God's daily saving work in our lives is God's gift of the Holy Spirit. Just as God's creating Spirit hovered over the waters in the very beginning, the Holy Spirit works in us...leads us daily...tugging at our lives until we are more fully turned toward God. 
            In our baptism, we become part of a royal priesthood, a holy nation, in order that we may proclaim the mighty acts of the One who called us out of darkness, into God's marvelous light.^[1] 
           In our Reformed part of the Protestant branch of Christ’s church, we take our membership in the priesthood of all believers very seriously.  In fact, in the Presbyterian Church, we take this calling so seriously that we ordain our officers for service.  The questions we ask at a service of ordination and installation of elders and deacons-- the questions you'll hear in a few minutes-- are the same questions asked of a Minister of the Word and Sacrament, except one.   The congregation makes promises too:  to support and encourage and pray for those who are serving as officers.              
            Every one of us gathered here has been given a particular set of gifts to use in God's service.  This community of believers is part of God's plan to bring good news of healing and freedom to a broken, hurting world. 
            On this Baptism of the Lord Sunday, we are reminded of Jesus' baptism and our own.  We are reminded who we are...  and whose we are.
            At your baptism, the same Spirit came down upon you as came down upon Jesus at his baptism.   The same Father said to you,  "you are my beloved son"...   or "you are my beloved daughter."  The same Father has continued ever since to hold you...   and to work to empower you for God's work.

How easy it is, in the midst of this life, to forget who you are...  and whose you are.  So, the church is here to remind you that God has named us...  and claimed us...   and seeks us and loves us unconditionally.

This is the gift Baptism gives to us. We are children of God, joined together with Christ to all the other Children of God. 

            So, remember your baptism and be thankful.  For this is who we are.
            Listen attentively for God’s call.  Use the gifts God has given you as a sign of the outbreaking of the kingdom of God.  Take on new challenges in your ministry.  Rely on the Holy Spirit to lead and empower and uphold you. 
            As you go out into the world, be the minister that God has called you to be.
            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

January 13, 2019

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[1] Adam Ericksen, “Girardian Reflection on the Lectionary: The Baptism of Jesus: Deconstructing the Fires of Hell.” https://www.ravenfoundation.org/girardian-reflection-on-the-lectionary-the-baptism-of-jesus-deconstructing-the-fires-of-hell/ 

"The Call." A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Mark 9:3-37 on a baptism Sunday.

“The Call”

Mark 9:30-37

            

Last week as I was driving somewhere I heard part of an interview on NPR about the history of fraternal organizations and lodges  During the interview, someone said that people don’t join groups as much as they used to.  He mentioned Robert Putnam’s book, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community, which was published in 2000—about the time social scientists started talking more about a trend of declining in-person social relationships and community,  which became more of a trend from around 1950 on.[1]  

            I’d read Bowling Alone when it was first published.  The title of the book came from a trend in bowling:  the number of people who bowled had increased between 1970 and 1990, but the number of people who bowled in leagues had decreased significantly.  If people bowl alone, they don’t participate in social interaction and civic discussions that might occur in a league environment.

            I think the trends Putnam and others were identifying fifteen years ago are even more evident today, in the aggregate loss in membership and number of volunteers in Parent-Teacher Associations, Women’s Clubs, any number of civic organizations, and the church.  Our leisure time has become much more individualized, via television and internet. 

                       

            We live in a culture in which individualism and consumerism are prominent values.   As I was looking through my notes on this scripture passage, I came across a commentary Kenneth Woodward wrote in Newsweek some time ago, in which he said that one of the most common theological questions asked in our society is “What do I want?” [2]

            In that article, Woodward described a kind of  “mix-em, match-em, salad-bar spirituality."

            You know how salad bars work.  You take what you want:  the mixed greens, the cherry tomatoes, the potato salad.  You leave behind what you don't want:  the sprouts, the pickled beets, the broccoli and cauliflower.  Woodward says a lot of people today assemble their spiritual lives in much the same way.  He cites a contemporary seeker who declares, "Instead of me fitting a religion, I found a religion to fit me." 

            "What do I want?"  is the question we might ask standing in the door of an open refrigerator.  Have you ever done that?  I feel this strange, vague hunger inside me.  I know I want something. 

            "What do I want?" is the question we ask standing in the shopping mall, or the car lot--  hoping something we buy might make us feel whole or happy...  or just better.

            "What do I want?"   When that becomes the only question—or the main question--  religious faith is no longer seen as the center of life and an integrating force holding our lives together--  but rather as just one more thing added into the life we try to put together for ourselves… or something to take or leave, depending on what I want. 

            The thought that religious faith is only about getting what we want can be pretty attractive...  seductive.

            By contrast, Jesus' words in today’s gospel lesson are anything but pretty, when he talks about how he will have to suffer…be rejected…and die.

            Though the way of Jesus sounds strange--  there is also something strangely appealing about it.  Jesus speaks so confidently about the new life he offers:  life so abundant that if you give it away you only find more of it.  Life so precious that it can't be bought--  but only received as a gift.  The gospel is paradoxical and counter-cultural.

            The popular culture gives us strong messages about who we are and what we’re worth and what life means.  We’re bombarded by commercials on T.V. that tell us that we’ll be happy if we use the right products to keep up appearances…if we have the right look for ourselves and our homes.  Even young children are targeted by advertisers who want to sell toys and junk food.

            The way of consumerism invites us to grasp and grab...  and work and toil, never satisfied, always wanting more....  always trying to fill some deep emptiness which can't be filled with anything less than God.

            When we have ears to hear, we’re invited to choose the way that leads to life and abundance.  As Christians, we’re challenged by our faith to repent—to re-think, to open ourselves to be transformed by the good news of the gospel.            

            One of the great joys of the Christian life is when parents present their children for baptism.  This is their public declaration that they want their child to be a part of the church and to have a ministry in it—even before the child is old enough to be fully aware of all the love that surrounds her or him. 

            For some of us, our children can be the reason we begin to participate more faithfully in the life of Christ.  In my own life, I’d been turned off by some experiences in the church I grew up in, and so I left the church when I went away to college.  Part of what drew me back into the church some years later was a feeling that I wanted my son to be nurtured in a church family.

            Because of my own experience, I identify with the story of a woman named Karin in Nick Taylor’s book Ordinary Miracles: Life in a Small Church.[3]   Karin had been baptized and confirmed in the Episcopal Church, and defected as a teen to the Methodists, who had a better youth group.  Then, after high school, she fell away from church.  “I graduated from nursing school…and went to work.   There was no time for God in my life.   But our God is a patient God,” she wrote.

            Soon she was living her version of the American dream.  She had a husband who loved her and whom she loved, a house in the suburbs, a station wagon in the driveway, two kids, the dog, the whole nine yards.  The material things were all there.  But something was missing.

            Karin realized she was looking for God in her life when she brought her children to church and made baptismal promises for them.  She said, “God was calling me back, and I finally heard….”

            At St. Mary’s, she found a loving community of people trying to live as Jesus taught.  The congregation welcomed her and her husband, and later her husband decided he wanted to live his life as a follower of Jesus.

            Karin made a discovery about the essence of her spiritual journey as she was making a trip she’d been dreading, when she delivered her first baby into a new life away at college.  Her daughter had stayed up most of the night at a farewell party, and she was sleeping in the seat next to her.  Karin wrote, “I had so many things to say to her.  There’s a saying that your children aren’t yours to keep, but God loans them to you for a while.  It was time for me to step to the sidelines.

            Karin reflected:  “God has blessed [us] with our daughters.  That morning on the long drive, I thought about the past eighteen years and how different my life has become.  Would I be the same person I am, if not for this sleeping young woman next to me?   Again, I realized God had put Susan and her sisters into my life for a reason.  In making sure they had a religious education, my own knowledge and love of God has been deepened immeasurably.  The void I felt so long ago has been filled.”

            When parents bring their children for baptism and promise to raise them in the faith, it can be a new beginning for the parents—and for all of us-- as well.

            Baptism is central to our identity as Christians.    As we live into our baptism, we learn who we are and whose we are.  We are nurtured to see ourselves as beloved children of God, and that can make all the difference!

            Baptism is a life-changing, transforming event in our lives.  The baptismal font stands at the front of sanctuary as we worship God every Sunday, reminding us that we’ve been initiated into this congregation, as well as into the universal church of Jesus Christ.  It reminds us that we’re an important part of the Body of Christ—marked and identified as a disciple of Christ.  The church is where we grow in faith and learn over a lifetime what it means to follow Jesus Christ. 

            In our Presbyterian and Reformed tradition, our understanding of baptism emphasizes God’s initiative.  God reaches out graciously to us, and offers us the gift of life in the kingdom as a free gift.  We respond by dedicating our lives to Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior and committing ourselves to follow him.  Baptism is the beginning of our life in the church…a first step in a journey that takes a lifetime.

            When we baptize children, we promise to teach them who they are in the light of God’s truth.  We promise to teach them what makes them different as part of a holy people…a royal priesthood…consecrated to God’s service.  We’re called to tell the good news of what God has done for us in Jesus Christ…and to show in our lives how God has saved us by calling us out of darkness into God’s marvelous light.[4]

            When parents present their child for baptism, they promise to live the Christian faith themselves, and to teach that faith to their children, by word and example.  When we baptize a child, the whole congregation makes promises to nurture that child in a variety of ways, and to teach them the faith.  To grow up in the faith, we and our children need to worship and learn together—in our families, and in the faith community which is the church. 

            Each time we baptize a new Christian, we’re inviting that person on a journey that will take a lifetime.  Today, we’re inviting Leah to be part of the great adventure we call church.

            What God will make of Leah’s life, or where God will lead her, we don’t know.

            But what we do know…what we can say with certainty-- because we have God’s promise—is that God is with us every step of the way.

            May God bless Leah and her family…and all of us on our adventure as we discern our call further into the life God is offering us!

            Amen!

            

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

October 11, 2015

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[1] Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community (2000).

[2] Kenneth L. Woodward and others, “A Time to Seek,” Newsweek (Dec. 17, 1990), page 50.

[3] Nick Taylor, Ordinary Miracles: Life in a Small Church (1993).

[4] 1 Peter 2:9

          

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[1] Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community (2000).

[2] Kenneth L. Woodward and others, “A Time to Seek,” Newsweek (Dec. 17, 1990), page 50.

[3] Nick Taylor, Ordinary Miracles: Life in a Small Church (1993).