Mark
1:4-11
4
John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of
repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 And people from the whole Judean
countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were
baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6 Now John was
clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate
locusts and wild honey. 7 He proclaimed, "The one who is more powerful
than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of
his sandals. 8 I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the
Holy Spirit." 9 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was
baptized by John in the Jordan. 10 And just as he was coming up out of the
water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on
him. 11 And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with
you I am well pleased."
“We
have a problem,” he said. There wasn’t much context to his declaration, nor any
reason given as to why he was telling me instead of someone familiar, someone
in charge. “What kind of problem?” I asked. He pointed towards the roof of the
three-story structure and said, “We’re almost out of water.” I remember saying,
“Well that’s not good” (an understatement if there ever was one).
This
quick conversation took place this past summer, when seventeen of us travelled
to the Christian Light School in Port au Prince, Haiti. There in the small,
paved yard of the school was a cistern. That cistern was periodically (and
expensively) filled with water from a tanker truck. Then, the water in that
cistern would be pumped up three stories to several black, plastic storage tanks
that each held about 500 gallons. Some of those tanks were then plumbed
throughout the building to be used for washing and waste removal, while the
others were plumbed to a shack on the second floor that held all kinds of
filtering equipment. Now, the water that was run through that filtering
equipment (including a system that treated the water with ozone) would be
pumped back up to the third floor into separate tanks, so that gravity could then
send it through separate pipes for drinking water. Apparently, the tanks on the
roof were getting low.
As
it turned out, the jet pump that provided the tanks on the roof with water from
the cistern had malfunctioned. A few adjustments to the pressure switch on the
pump, and water was once again flowing from the cistern to the black tanks on
the roof, through the filter systems, so we could all have safe, clean water to
drink (even if it did occasionally taste like hot plastic).
I
tell you that story because I remember thinking how fortunate we are to have clean
drinking water at the turn of a knob on any faucet in our homes, how vital
water is to our everyday lives. I remember thinking how something so common, so
plentiful, so natural and ordinary, could be so precious, so scarce, so
important. As I think about it now, with the baptismal waters still a bit damp
on my skin, I am in awe to think that Christ used such an element to inaugurate
his ministry, that God chose to begin the ministry of Christ—not among the
marbled columns of a palace, not in the gold-gilded halls of a temple, not even
under the gem-bedazzled crown of royalty, but—in the shallow, muddy waters of
the Jordan. There, in the water, surrounded by people from the whole Judean
countryside and all the people of Jerusalem, God initiated the great ministry
of Christ, the proclamation that God had indeed intervened in history and had
come to show us the way, the way that leads through water, through bread and
wine, through suffering and death, and on through hope and resurrection.
Perhaps
John the Baptizer thought things would go differently. After all, in verses 7 and 8 he says, "The
one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop
down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he
will baptize you with the Holy Spirit." One gets the notion that
John may have expected Jesus to show up and do something completely different,
something that would make everyone take notice, something flashy and powerful,
but instead we’re told in verse 9: “In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of
Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.” There are no flashy
tricks, no grand speeches nor acts of power: Jesus is baptized by John in
water.
Of course, what happens
next is a divine confirmation of what has taken place, a sign from God that
what has happened there in that water is only the beginning of things to come.
“And
just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and
the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You
are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’" Through
water, the Son of God begins his ministry and the Spirit of God announces it to
the world.
There, in the water, God
proclaims that Jesus is God’s beloved Son; the Spirit comes upon him. From this
point forward, Jesus begins declaring the good news; he begins proclaiming the
present kingdom of God. When Christ came out of the water, he stepped onto the
path that would lead him to healing the sick, giving sight to the blind, caring
for the poor, welcoming the stranger, challenging the powerful, and raising the
dead. When Jesus stepped out of the Jordan, he stepped on to the way that leads
through rejection, agony, and suffering. We Jesus came out of the water,
perhaps he knew what lay before him, and perhaps he knew that at the end of
that path were a cross and the pain of death. Maybe that’s why the dove came,
why the sky ripped open, and the voice of God spoke of Jesus as God’s beloved
Son. Maybe the signs were for Jesus, to comfort and encourage him in the face
of what awaited him. One thing seems to be clear: the water of baptism marked
the beginning of something powerful for Jesus, the beginning of Christ’s
journey towards the cross. That’s what baptism is, the beginning of something
powerful.
For whatever reason, however,
over the past few generations, baptism has become quite the opposite
(especially for Christians who identify as “Evangelicals”). Baptism has become
something we use as a tally mark, a signpost in our lives on which we can look
back and reassure ourselves that we are actually Christians and we’ll get into
heaven when we die. Baptism has really become a sort of “ending,” something we
do when we’ve proven that the one to be baptized has jumped through all the
hoops and answered all the questions with the right answers. It is as if we’ve
said to those who have been baptized, “You’ve been dunked, so now it’s really
just a matter of coming to church pretty regularly, giving a little money, and
maybe serving on a committee or two.” Baptism has become a mere rite of
passage, something one does to prove he or she is willing to be a part of the
group, an action that is required in order for one to be able to fully participate
in all the perks and benefits of the institution.
Think about it: what do
we ask of a person beyond baptism when it comes to church membership? What do
we really expect of an individual
before we add him or her to the role aside from proof of baptism or the
undertaking of the act itself? Even congregations with elaborate “new members”
classes place baptism at the end of that process, as a goal to be reached in
order to prove that one is now genuinely a Christian and the kind of Christian
that is allowed to be an official part of that congregation. It just seems to
me that we have made baptism an ending of sorts, but baptism isn’t an ending.
Baptism is a beginning of something powerful, a life driven by the ever-present
Spirit of God.
Look at it this way:
baptism is not just a symbol, a proclamation of something that has changed
inside of you; it is a visible, public promise of what God is going to do
through you. What if we reflected on our own baptisms that way? What if we
looked back to that day we were wet with the waters of baptism as the beginning
of something powerful, the beginning of God’s work in our lives? Has much
changed? How far have you come since that day? How have you allowed the Spirit
of God to dwell in you, to move and work through you in the lives of others? What
if we saw baptism as the first, brave step on the way of following Jesus? What
if we saw our own baptisms as the first movement in a life redefined by the
gospel, a life lived for the kingdom of God? Would it change how we live even
now?
For years I’ve heard
defensive Baptists say things like, “We baptize because Jesus told us to, not
because we believe it saves us:” that’s why so many Baptists refer to baptism
(along with the Lord’s Supper) as an “ordinance.” I believe we baptize (and
take communion) because Christ did call us to do it, but I also believe that
when we follow Jesus through the waters of baptism we are united with him in
his baptism AND his life, death, burial, and resurrection. That’s more than
just a baptismal formula to speak while standing in the pool—it’s a call to
live lives worthy of such a baptism! It is a call to be united with Christ in
the very way we live our lives each day, for baptism is not an end in and of
itself—it is a beginning of something powerful.
Today, we have witnessed
such a beginning, and on days like this, when the baptistry is full, when one
has taken the bold step to publicly show his desire to follow Jesus, those of
us who have been baptized cannot help but reflect on our own baptisms. We recall
what that day was like, the nervousness as we stood in front of so many, the
sensation of the water closing in around us or being poured over us, the
feeling of emerging from the water as a new person, wet and cool. As you
reflect on that day, that beginning, how have you changed? How have you let God
use you since that day? Perhaps you’ve witnessed this beginning today and
realize that God is calling you to such a beginning, that Christ is calling you
to follow him through the waters of baptism and on to a life lived in the power
of God’s Spirit, for the good news of God’s kingdom. If you feel Christ calling
you to follow him through the water, I encourage you to tell somebody, you can
even come and share that with us here during our time of response.
As we all have witnessed
the beginning of something powerful, the beginning of God’s work in Brody’s
life here today, may we all allow God to use us. May we be used by God to share
the love and the message of God’s kingdom with our words and our actions as we
live each day following Christ. May those of us who have passed through the
waters of baptism see that day as a beginning of something powerful and each
day from here on as a day to live for Christ and God’s kingdom. And may those
of us who have yet to be baptized with Christ, listen for the voice of God as
it speaks to us, as it assures us of God’s love in Christ Jesus, and may you
take the first step towards something powerful and a life filled with the love
of God. Amen.
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