Luke 3:15-22
15 As the people were filled with
expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether
he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, "I
baptize you with water; 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. 17 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." 18 So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the
good news to the people. 19 But Herod the ruler, who had been rebuked by him
because of Herodias, his brother's wife, and because of all the evil things
that Herod had done, 20 added to them all by shutting up John in prison. 21 Now
when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and
was praying, the heaven was opened, 22 and the Holy Spirit descended upon him
in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son,
the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."
It was the fifteenth of September, 2002. I was
standing barefoot at the top of brown-carpeted steps, looking down into an
oversized, fiberglass tub. Standing in the middle of that tub, waist-deep in
slightly-warmed water, wearing black duck waders and a white shirt was a man I
had come to know as “Brother David.” He extended his left hand towards me,
motioning for me to make my way out of the cave-like corridor down into the
water. While I don’t exactly remember the formulaic words Brother David was
saying as I descended into the pool, I do remember a very strange feeling
coming over me.
Now, the more sentimental and sacramental parts of me would like to
believe that feeling was the Holy Spirit or some portion of grace being
bestowed upon me as I found my way through the baptismal waters, but I’m a good
Baptist: I knew then and now that there was nothing special, nothing sacred
about that water (God help us if there was, because I’m sure it went down the
same drain into the same septic system with the rest of the church’s used
water!). Those same parts of me would like to believe that perhaps that odd and
wondrous feeling was a result of the words Brother David pronounced as a sure
and effective incantation, yet, again, I know there was nothing magical about
the words he spoke; they were not words of some charismatic charm. No, that
feeling that came over me, that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up
straight, was the sudden realization that I wasn’t alone in this particular
moment. For as I waded into the water in my blue athletic shorts and cut-off
t-shirt, I looked out of the opening usually covered by a green curtain to see
about one hundred pairs of eyes casting their stares across the pews, up the
chancel, and over the choir loft at me as Brother David raised his right hand
and then proceeded to awkwardly plunge me backwards into the water.
I dripped a trail all the way back to the men’s room where I changed
clothes. Then I made my way around the church building to my seat on the back
pew with the rest of my friends. As I sat there, I remember feeling the breeze
from the air conditioning vent blowing on my still-wet hair and thinking to
myself, “Boy, you have gone and done it now. All these people saw what you did.
This religion, this ‘church-thing’, this following Jesus, isn’t a secret
anymore. It isn’t something you can give up like a discarded habit, because
they saw you. You’ve gone and done it. You’ve gone and started something now,
and it isn’t a secret anymore.”
It was sometime towards the front of the first century, in that part of
the world where the sun always seems to shine hot. He was standing on the brown
bank of a creek called Jordan. There, in the middle of that muddy creek was
another man who was nothing short of strange-looking: wearing what can only be
described as a camel-haired diaper, with a leather belt to keep it from
falling, he had bits of dried honey and locusts wings stuck in his tangled
beard, and when he hollered from the middle of that muddy creek, others
couldn’t help but listen: “You brood of vipers!...Bear fruits worthy
of repentance…Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree
therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down into the fire…" (I don’t think he got a lot of “Amen!”s coming
from the banks of the Jordan!). After his fiery pronouncements of pending judgment,
this peculiar prophet motioned for the next in line to make his way down the brown
bank and into the water.
Perhaps in that moment, time seemed to stand still. As Jesus waded out
into the water towards his wild-looking cousin John, perhaps it seemed as if
there were no other people in the world but the two of them. But we know there
were others there gathered on the banks of that creek. We know because Luke
tells us they were there in verse 21 of
the text before us today: “Now when all the people were baptized, and
when Jesus also had been baptized…” Jesus and John weren’t alone on
that day; Jesus’ wasn’t some private baptism, held in the exclusive presence of
a few friends and family. No, “when all the people were baptized…Jesus
also had been baptized;” all the people witnessed John baptize
the one he proclaimed in verse 16 “who is more powerful than I… [one whom] I am
not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy
Spirit and fire…” They all saw
it happen, and is if that wasn’t enough, then we hear what happened in verse 22: “the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a
voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well
pleased.’"
Boy, he had gone and done it now. All those people saw what happened. They
saw John baptize him, and they saw the Spirit like a dove and heard the voice. This
“Son of God” thing wasn’t a secret anymore. It wasn’t just a story his mother
Mary told him before bed each night about angels, shepherds, and wise men from
the East. This “Messiah” label was no longer hidden from view; it wasn’t
private anymore—his secret was out. As the water of the Jordan dripped from his
hair and the voice of the Father accompanied the descending Holy Spirit, in
this rare biblical moment, all three persons of the Trinity were revealed, and all
the people witnessed it. There was no going back now; the kingdom
movement had begun. This was the moment Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John would all
point to as the beginning of Christ’s ministry; this moment when all
the people witnessed Jesus baptized in the Jordan, when they witnessed
the dove and heard the voice. Jesus had gone and done it—it wasn’t a secret
anymore. And it all started there in the baptismal waters of the Jordan.
That’s what baptism is after all, you know. Baptism isn’t done in secret,
but before the witnessing eyes and ears of the gathered people of God. It isn’t
some religious ritual for ritual’s sake. No! It is a proclamation that you are
indeed a part of God’s movement in the world. It’s the revelation that your
relationship with Jesus isn’t some private, hidden relationship. Baptism is the
beginning; it brings to light what may have previously been a secret between
you and Christ. We follow Christ through the baptismal waters as an act of
declaration, an act that unites us with Jesus in the liberating and redeeming
work of God’s kingdom. The power of baptism comes not through the water or the
words spoken during the event, but through the testimony of the one who is
baptized and through the life lived after baptism in the power of the Holy
Spirit.
Christ’s baptism wasn’t the end. Notice how his baptism comes at the
beginning of each of the gospels? That’s because it’s the spark that ignited
the fire! Out of the waters of the Jordan arose One who would go on to heal the
sick, feed the hungry, care for the poor, give sight to the blind, power to the
powerless, and hope to the hopeless. From Jordan’s banks went one who would
turn the accepted understanding of authority and worth on its head. After his
baptism, he would be tempted by the devil, doubted by disciples, faced with
needs, concerns, and seemingly impossible odds. Down at the river, Jesus’
mission was made public; his identity revealed to those who would listen. The
dominion of God was on the move.
Christ’s baptism was just the beginning of a ministry that would lead
through the cold iron and rough wooden beams of a Roman cross, through the
stone-carved, vacant tomb on into eternity. Surely it would have been enough
for those gathered there by the Jordan, those who had come to hear John, to
have witnessed Jesus’ baptism and heard God’s voice from heaven. Christ could
have made some loud declaration of his divinity right there on the shore, and
without question, some would have surely believed him when he said he was
indeed the Son of God and the long-awaited Messiah. But Christ’s baptism wasn’t
the end—our baptism isn’t the end—it is only the beginning.
Today, we’ve listened to Luke as he has retold the story of what happened
that day down at the river. Perhaps you’ve been reminded of that day in your
own life when you followed Christ through the waters of baptism. I wonder…how
is life different for you on this side of the water? Was baptism the pinnacle
of your life’s journey with Jesus? Was the fire of faith quenched when the
baptismal waters were dried from skin and hair? Or, has your life changed on
this side of the baptismal pool? Was your baptism the spark that ignited your
own fire of faith and transformation as you seek to follow the Son of God? As
we have witnessed Jesus’ baptism down at the river called Jordan, perhaps we
should reflect on our own baptisms and how we have allowed the Holy Spirit to
shape us in the days thereafter.
Then again, you may be in this place today clinging to the secrecy
surrounding your relationship with Christ. Perhaps you’re waiting for the right
time, the right place to proclaim to the world that you have answered the call
from Jesus to come and follow him. Maybe you’re just a bit nervous, a bit
bashful, and maybe even a bit scared. But you’re not nervous about having to
walk down in front of so many people, and you’re not scared of the water.
Perhaps what makes you nervous, what truly frightens you (and perhaps what
frightens us all) is the reality that comes after baptism, the call to
discipleship that comes on the other side of the water. Baptism is the
beginning of a life lived following the one who calls even us to heal the sick,
feed the hungry, restore sight to the blind, cast out demons, care for the
poor, and bring hope to the hopeless!
Today, if you are still keeping your faith in Christ a secret from the
world, if you have yet to follow Jesus through the waters of baptism, may you
come to find in this congregation a family of faith that will walk along with
you in the life to which Christ calls us all. May you come forward this day and
begin to live life on the other side of baptism, proclaiming to the world that
you are indeed a follower of Christ and a part of his kingdom’s movement. May
we, the baptized people of God, bring others to know Jesus and encourage them to
follow him through the waters of baptism, into a life of selfless love and
kingdom service. And let us all who call on the name of Christ learn from what
happened down at the river that day: let us be people who follow the One who
was revealed as God’s Son, and let us live each day in the renewing power of
the Holy Spirit and the love of God.
Let us pray…
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