"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

---

[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/ 

"Traveling Light". A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Luke 10:10-20.

"Traveling Light"

Luke 10:1-20

A short story by Tim O’Brien, “The Things They Carried,” has often been assigned reading for high school or college students.  It’s filled with descriptions of the things the soldiers packed in their gear in combat zones in Vietnam.  They carried pocket knives, letters from girlfriends, cigarettes and C-rations.  They carried diaries, photographs, binoculars, socks, and foot powder.  They carried compasses, maps, and weapons.  What they carried was partly what they thought they needed to survive and partly an expression of their combat mission.  “They carried all they could bear,” writes O’Brien, “and then some, including a silent awe for the terrible power of the things they carried.”

            More recently, there have been several exhibits of photographs and artifacts dealing with this theme.   One of them is currently at the Arab American National Museum in Dearborn, focusing on the experience of Iraqi and Syrian refugees, most of whom traveled with little more than the clothes on their back and some small memento to remind them of home.  

            To document their life-changing journey and shed light on the trials and trauma refugees experience, Jim Lommasson has created a traveling exhibit on what it means to leave everything behind, “What We Carried: Fragments from the Cradle of Civilization.”  He invited refugees to share a personal item that was significant on their journey.  Some shared a family snapshot, an heirloom dish, or a childhood toy.  The project is about what’s worth holding onto when you have to travel light.

            I don’t know what kind of a packer you are, but I keep trying to travel lighter when I go away for a conference or on vacation.  My tendency is to try to have all the clothes I may need—appropriate clothes for each kind of activity and weather possibility, something to read, groomintg and health supplies, and so on.  It all adds up.

             But I hear what Jesus said to the seventy:  “Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals…”  In fact, carry nothing, not even what prudent people would pack for a trip—no money, no extra pairs of shoes—nothing.  Disciples are to be utterly dependent upon God and the hospitality of others.  Disciples are to carry only the gospel and our trust in God.

            Jesus has appointed these seventy or so to go on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he plans to go, as kind of advance teams.  “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore, ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.  Go on your way.

            “See,” cautions Jesus, “I am sending you like lambs into the midst of wolves.”    This is important work, with high stakes.  Travel wisely.  Travel light.   

            Hearing and sharing the gospel require as few distractions as possible in any age, in any place. 

            Consider how much bigger the average size house is today than a generation or two ago.  We have bigger houses, with bigger closets, so we can have more stuff.  We have to pay more to use more energy to heat and cool the bigger houses and to run all the appliances and electronic gadgets we’ve come to see as necessities.  A bigger house with more stuff takes more time and energy money to maintain and clean and secure.   

A wealthy businessman who had grown up poor said in later years, “Life gets complicated when you own more than two pair of pants.” 

            Jesus sent the seventy disciples out and told them that wherever they were welcomed, they Lukewere to eat what is set before them…to cure the sick…and to tell people “The kingdom of God has come near to you.”  Wherever they were not welcomed, they were to go out into the streets and announce that they were protesting the lack of welcome, as they wipe the dust off of their feet.  Yet they were also to tell those who didn’t welcome them: “The kingdom of God has come near.” 

            I believe that all these details are included in the gospel story to show that something big, something risky and dangerous was happening. 

Like the early disciples, we are also sent out.                         

Another thing today’s gospel story tells us is that being sent out in mission requires letting go of a lot of baggage.  We need to be able to move quickly, without unnecessary hindrances or distractions.  We can’t be free of all burdens, but we need to bear the right burdens.  It’s a question of priorities.

During the Protestant Reformation, part of the work was to discern what was essential for Christ’s church and what needed to be left behind because it got in the way of being faithful for that time. 

John Wesley always insisted that his Methodist circuit riders have few possessions.  He knew that our possessions have a way of hindering us.  So the circuit riders were expected to travel light.

Those of us who have been life-long church members have been spiritually formed by worship, Christian education, participating in mission, and being a part of the faith community.  Some have cherished memories of how things used to be.  Others who came to Littlefield from another faith community may have memories of what was especially meaningful to them in another congregation.  Others may have a vision of what church can be in this new time. 

As much as we might want everybody to be happy and to have all the things they feel would make them comfortable on the journey, that’s not the life to which Jesus calls us.  We’re called to faithful service, and Jesus tells us we need to travel light.  We need to discern what’s essential for the church’s mission today.

            We live in troubling, sometimes scary times, and it’s easy to be pessimistic and fearful about our nation and the world, and about the church.  We know that in the North American church, membership has been declining.  The Presbyterian Church and other mainline churches have been downsizing their national organizations due to financial constraints.  Some congregations have left the denomination, in response to previous General Assembly actions on GLBTQ ordination and same-gender marriage. 

            The theme of the 2016 General Assembly was “The hope in our calling,” and from what I’ve heard and read, this was a hopeful assembly.  The commissioners worked hard, studying, listening to testimony, praying, worshipping, struggling with complex and difficult issues.  As always, they did everything “decently and in order,” because that’s how Presbyterians do things. 

            I posted some reports on Facebook during GA, and I recently emailed a summary of what happened at GA to you.  I hope you’ll read them, and that we can talk about anything you have questions or concerns about.

            There were several things that made this Assembly both historic and hope-full.  First, for the first time, a co-moderator team was elected to share the leadership equally:  Denise Anderson and Jan Edmiston, both pastors, both women, elected in the year that marks the 60^th anniversary of the ordination of women to Word and Sacrament and the 85^th anniversary of the ordination of women as ruling elders. 

            Second, the Assembly adopted the Confession of Belhar into our Book of Confessions, which is part of the Constitution of the PC(USA).  Belhar emerged in the Dutch Reformed Mission Church of South Africa, post-Apartheid.  It confronts the sin of racism and calls for reconciliation, unity and peace.  Following the vote, someone from the Assembly floor began to sing “We Shall Overcome,” and others joined in.  By the second verse, the body had joined hands, and then lifted them upward as they sang together. 

            It was moving to see this in a video, but as I read peoples’ reports of moments like this, I couldn’t help wishing I could have been in Portland for GA.  These moments remind us that when we follow Jesus, liberation, justice and redemption, peace and joy and hope are all part of the journey. 

            South African theologian Alan Boesak who helped to write the Belhar confession, was in Portland for the vote.  He reminded the church that we are called to more than simply say the words of the confession; we are called to live them, embody them.  As Belhar affirms, “We believe . . . that the church as the possession of God must stand where the Lord stands, namely against injustice and with the wronged.”

            On Friday, the Assembly elected J. Herbert Nelson, a third-generation Presbyterian pastor, an African-American man, and prophetic voice for justice, to the office of Stated Clerk, which is our top ecclesiastical and constitutional office, representing the denomination in interfaith and ecumenical settings.

            Rev. Nelson challenged Presbyterians to stop focusing on internal church disputes, numerical survival, and labeling each other as progressives or conservatives.  He said, “Nowhere in holy writ do I read the terms ‘liberal, moderate, or conservative.’” 

I believe this is true.  These are not biblical categories.  They foster conflict narratives about “us” and “them” with our brothers and sisters in Christ, and should not define our identity as followers of Jesus Christ.

            As J. Herbert Nelson said, we need to focus on “the impact God can make through us” in a broken world.  He said of the Presbyterian Church: “We are not dead, we are reforming, we are alive and we are well.”   But “To only think about the survival of the Church is to set our aim too low.” 

            Much of what happened at General Assembly gives me hope.  In the midst of all that’s going on in the world, God is up to something and wants to use us to bring about good.  As today’s gospel lesson reminds us, we need to travel light.  So we need to leave behind our worries about survival, our resentment or mistrust of people who aren’t like us or don’t believe exactly the same things we do.  We need to stop hauling around our nostalgic longings about how we used to do things, and pack for the mission we have today. 

            When we trust that God will provide what we need for the journey, that will free up room for us to carry the good news of God’s love and freedom out into a world where God calls us to bring healing and peace and restoration.

            Jesus sent out the seventy in his name, but it became clear that they were part of a larger mission—a mission that is not yet completely unfolded, a mission whose final goal is even yet unfolding, a battle against evil, against the powers and principalities of this world. 

            There is still more teaching, more witnessing, more healing, to do.  There are still hungry people to be fed.  The poor still need to hear good news…captives and oppressed people who need to be freed…blind who need to recover  their sight.[1] 

The GOOD NEWS is that God has graciously claimed us in your baptism and chosen us and calls us to help to transform the world. 

            Somewhere along the way, we will be called to leave our excess baggage behind.  We will be sent out to places we never imagined we’d go in the name of Christ.  We will carry the one important thing:  a gospel of love and justice and peace.   The way will be hard and the path will be uncertain, but by the grace of God, our work will become a part of God’s work and will help to knock the powers of evil off the throne,  and our names will be written in heaven.

            Thanks be to God!

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

July 3, 2016

---

[1] Luke 4