Baptism of Christ A: From the Water

baptism-of-jesus-bonnell
“Baptism of Jesus” (Bonnell)

OLD TESTAMENT:  Isaiah 42: 1-9

Read the passage from Isaiah

We are used to reading this passage and immediately going to the context of Christ.  In the preceding chapter, though (verses 8-9), the name “servant” refers to the Jacob-Israel-Abraham covenantal relationship with God.  This means that the “servant” is not only the ancestors but also the nations that derived and benefited from that covenantal relationship. (the “nations” to which justice shall be brought forth.).  So, in its original context, the “servant” is thought to be Israel or the prophet as a representative Israelite.

The main purpose of this passage, though, is to draw attention to the One God who is theirs (over and above other “gods”).  This passage is the first of the four “servant songs” from Second Isaiah.  (Remember that Second Isaiah encompasses chapters 40-55 and was probably written at the end of the exile, perhaps about 540 BCE.)  The other “servant songs” are 49:1-6, 50: 4-11, and 52:13-53:12.  These were first isolated in the 19th century as one literary unit.  The thinking was that they were from a hand later than the original author.  But it’s still important to think of them as set within the other writings.

Yahweh presents the servant as his chosen agent.  Gifted with the Spirit, the servant will execute the divine plan for the world and bring forth justice to the nations.  It is interesting to note that God does not openly “delight” in just anything according to the Scripture.  But God delights in the created world, the creation of humans and now, the Servant.  So the whole idea of how the Servant delights God is something that we should consider.  What does it mean to “delight”?

In verse 5, God is identified as Creator and the one who empowers the people.  On this basis, God calls and protects the servant, which has social consequences in the opening of blind eyes and liberating of prisoners.  Verse 8 is an affirmation of the one true God against all the other deities who were being presented to Israel during the Babylonian exile.  At the end of the passage, God announces that what was promised before has already happened and now new things are being promised.  In essence, the “servant” introduces a new way of looking at God and our relationship with God.  The traditional image of God as a “warrior” becomes the image of God as one who is birthing something new.

Now remember that the people to whom this was directed had never actually seen the Judean Promised Land.  They had heard about it from their grandparents and parents but they themselves had spent a lifetime living in what was essentially a sort of Judean ghetto in the midst of Babylon.  They were used to living within the worship of the Babylonian god Marduk and it seemed more and more that YHWH had been defeated and was long gone.  So, the idea of God bringing comfort was indeed something new.  It was always good to remember the past and to bask in it, but God is calling us to step forward into newness.

These servant songs, and probably this one in particular, have had much to do with the shaping of our own development of who we as Christians think Jesus Christ is.  Remember that they were not necessarily written with the intent of prophesying the birth of Christ, although we have sort of “usurped” them with that meaning.  But the idea of one who brings comfort and justice and a new way of being is exactly what we got.  Whoever the servant is, God uses this one to bring justice and righteousness and peace and newness into a hurting world.

 

  1. What comes to mind for you in reading this passage?
  2. What does the use of the term “servant” mean for us?
  3. What does it mean for us that the “servant” delights God?
  4. If we look upon the “servant” as Israel and Israel’s ancestors, what does that mean for us?
  5. How does this passage speak to us today?
  6. What does this vision of a just world mean for us today?

 

 

NEW TESTAMENT:  Acts 10: 34-43

Read the passage from Acts

Even though it is sparsely used in the weekly lectionary readings, the writing known to us as The Acts of the Apostles is important for us.  It began as a written conversation between a storyteller (Luke) and his story’s first reader (Theophilus).  But it is essentially an anonymous book.  The traditions assert that the evangelist Luke wrote both the Third Gospel and Acts, but that is not definitely known.  But the fact that we are not given definitive information as to who the author was (or even exactly when the work was written) indicates that the focus is (and should be) on the story rather than the writer’s identity.

Theophilus, the first reader of Acts, is otherwise unknown to us.  Evidently, Theophilus is a new, although socially prominent, believer.  His name, in Greek, means “dear to God”, leading some to speculate that the name is the writer’s clever metaphor for every new Christian seeking theological instruction.  (Not unlike the use of the “servant” as a metaphor for all of God’s followers.)

Acts was apparently written with several focuses in mind:  (1) To bring unity and reconciliation to faith communities, (2) To challenge idolatry and other theological crises, (3) To underscore the authority and importance of faith traditions for the future of the church, (4) To guide the church in its evangelistic mission. (Go make of all disciples.), and, probably most importantly, (5) To deepen the faith of new believers.  The passage that we read begins with the realization that the mission of God is inclusive.  But the Biblical principle of divine impartiality comes with a critical aspect:  Although God does not discriminate by ethnic group or nationality, God does indeed single out those “in every nation…who hear him and do what is right.”

The passage recounts the message of God’s perfect peace as coming first to Israel and is then spread through Judea and then throughout the world.  Essentially, God is Lord over all.  Peter’s witness to the resurrected Jesus presumes a special relationship with him and a privileged knowledge of him, which obligates him “to testify”.  Those believers who count themselves among God’s “elect” are often including the notion that God has not chosen anyone else who disagrees with their beliefs and their customs.  Yet what became crystal clear to Peter is that to do so is not our prerogative.  It is God alone who judges the living and the dead.  One of the most surprising features of Acts is the diversity of people God calls to be included among God’s people.  God has no favorites.  God delights in what is right and just.  Essentially, it is not about us.  Rev. Rev. Bill Long said that “we miss more than half of the message of the resurrection of Christ if we view it as a story of our own personal salvation.”  Perhaps our spiritual walk is not so much about doing what we think God wants us to do as it is about being awakened to the way God is leading us through our life.

 

  1. What does this passage mean for you?
  2. This seems to debuke the idea of God choosing a specific group of people. What does that mean for you?
  3. What does it mean to think of the Gospel as something more than a personal salvation story?

 

 

GOSPEL:  Matthew 3: 13-17

Read the Gospel passage

This passage is pretty interesting the way it begins.  Think about it…we’ve heard the birth story.  We’ve lived with mangers and shepherds and magi for the last several weeks now.  But then, the story seems to stop, suspended for thirty years while Jesus grew and matured (with the exception of the eleven-verse glimpse that Luke gives us with the story of a twelve-year old Jesus going into the temple.)  And then…look at the way it begins.  Then…as if now was the time.  As if now Jesus is finally ready.  As if, finally, the world has room.  Then…

Thirty years was the traditional time for a rabbi to wait to commit himself to God.  Jesus would have been caring for his mother, making a living, and preparing himself for ministry.  I don’t really think that, contrary to what some may say, Jesus was confused about these roles.  He was always serving God.  But now…then…the time had come.  And as eternity dawns, Jesus is ready to begin.  And so he goes to John at the Jordan to be baptized and for a very short amount of time was then actually a disciple, a follower, of John’s.  Then…Jesus is ready to begin.  Eternity dawns.

John was used to baptizing people as a sort of ritual cleansing of those who had repented, who had turned their lives around. Cleansing was usual throughout the Old Testament. (“Create in me a clean heart”…”Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity.”)  But that was a action of John’s.  So you can understand why he was so uncomfortable.  But Jesus reassures him.  And as Jesus is baptized, the action shifts.  Then…the heavens open up and spill into the earth and the Spirit emerges.  And we hear what all of Creation has strained to hear:  “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  The work has begun.

In her book, Calling: A Song for the Baptized, Caroline Westerhoff says that “at baptism we are incorporated into Christ’s body, infused with Christ’s character, and empowered to be Christ’s presence in the world.  Ministry is not something in particular that we do.  It is what we are about in everything we do.”  In other words, our own Baptism sweeps us into that dawn that Jesus’ baptism began.  Westerhoff also refers to our baptism as our “ordination” to ministry.

When God calls, people respond in a variety of ways.  Some pursue ordination and others put pillows over their heads, but the vast majority seek to answer God by changing how they live their more or less ordinary lives.  It can be a frustrating experience, because deciding what is called for means nothing less than deciding what it means to be a Christian in a post-Christian world.  Is it a matter of changing who you are—becoming a kinder, more spiritual person?  Or is it a matter of changing what you do—looking for a new job, becoming more involved at church, or witnessing to the neighbors?  What does God want from us, and how can we comply? (Barbara Brown Taylor, in The Preaching Life, p. 26.)

This story of Jesus’ Baptism calls us to remember our own.  It, too, is our beginning as the gift of God’s grace washes away those things that impede our relationship with God and gives us new birth, new life.  It is our own beginning, as we are named “Christian”, begin our own journey toward God, and become who God intends us to be.  And for each of us, whether or not we noticed it, the heavens opened up and the Spirit emerged.  And we, too, were conferred with a title.  “This is my child, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

“Remember your Baptism”.  Martin Luther said that “A truly Christian life is nothing else than a daily baptism once begun and ever to be continued.”  It is remembering every single day who we are, whose we are, and how beloved we are.  God has made something new.  But we have to be willing to let go of the old.  Nelle Morton said that “you are destined to fly, but that cocoon has got to go.”  So, let go.  Then…the journey begins.  You are part of something beyond yourself, beyond what you know, and beyond what you can remember.  Rainer Maria Rilke once said that “the future enters into us, in order to transform itself in us, long before it happens.”  And from the water, our future happens and we are made into something new, and once and for all, we see that we are truly a beloved son or daughter of God, with whom God is well pleased.  From the water, we become who we were meant to be.

 

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What meaning does this bring to the remembrance of your own baptism?
  3. What does the notion of your being “ordained” to ministry mean for you?
  4. In what ways do we as a community fall short of realizing that?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

The desire to find God and to see God and to love God is the one thing that matters. (Thomas Merton)

Later, after the angels, after the stable, after the Child, they went back…as we always must, back to the world that doesn’t understand our talk of angels and stars and especially not the Child.  We go back complaining that it doesn’t’ last.  They went back singing praises to God!  We do have to go back, but we can still sing the alleluias!  (From “Later”, in Kneeling in Bethlehem, by Ann Weems, 86)

What we are looking for on earth and in earth and in our lives is the process that can unlock for us the mystery of meaningfulness in our daily lives.  It has been the best-kept secret down through the ages because it is so simple.  Truly, the last place it would ever occur to most of us to find the sacred would be in the commonplace of our everyday lives and all about us in nature and in simple things.   (Alice O. Howell, The Dove in the Stone)

 

 

Closing

 

Think about it…Jesus was still wet with water after John had baptized him when he stood to enter his ministry in full submission to God.  As he stood in the Jordan and the heavens spilled into the earth, all of humanity stood with him.  We now stand, wet with those same waters, as we, too, are called into ministry in the name of Christ.  As we emerge, we feel a cool refreshing breeze of new life.  Breathe in.  It will be with you always.  Then…it is up to you to finish the story.  Then…the journey begins.  So remember who and whose you are.  Remember your baptism and be thankful for it is who you are.

 

“Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him.  John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”  But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so for now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.”  Then he consented.  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.  And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

More than once today I have thrown down my notebook, my pen, and finally myself onto this bed.  Jordan springs from either eye, and it may look like I am weeping from this wrestling, but really I am standing at the water, looking for the one who will pull me under and holler out my name. (“Jordan”, in In Wisdom’s Path, by Jan Richardson, 36

Proper 15C: Learning a New Song

Vineyard
Indian Valley Vineyards, San Miguel, CA

FIRST LESSON:  Isaiah 5: 1-7

Read the passage from Isaiah

This passage is one of the best-known oracles of the eighth century prophet and summons its Judean audience to judge the legal complaint of a would-be vintner who lavishes care upon his vineyard but only harvests bitter and useless grapes.  It begins with a song and the writer takes up the role of a minstrel.  It sets the stage for what we think is going to be a wonderful feel-good love song that that brings visions of beauty and love and goodwill, a rich ritual celebration, because this is normal for Biblical literature.

But that is not the song we hear; because, unlike most of the Hebrew love poetry, this song quickly loses its beauty and sensuality and gives way to a sort of judicial oracle.  The “Song of the Vineyard” becomes a parable of judgment against the Hebrew people for their continued disobedience of God.  The words of this song remind us that God did not merely create humanity and then set down Creation with everything that was needed for our enjoyment.  The passage tells us that God expects something from us.  God invites us to a new vision of the world around us.  That is the song that we are about to hear.

Remember that this part of Isaiah is generally assumed to be set in the 8th century, probably sometimes between the death of King Uzziah of Judah and the final fall of Judah in 701 BCE.  During this time, Judah became a vassal of Assyria and fell into practices that were not in accordance with what we would call a right relationship with God, practicing social oppression and allowing social injustices to pervade their society in what the prophet saw as an out and out rejection of God.

The parable begins with a portrayal of a vineyard nestled on a lush and fertile hill.   The image of the fertile soil depicts an image of growing, ongoing life.  There is nothing stagnant about God’s gift of Creation.  According to the passage, the owner has “dug it and cleared it of stones.”  This implies that God has worked for this—this is not just some “haphazard” act of Creation.  God has planted this lush, green vineyard with choice vines, those deep red vines, capable of producing the best and sweetest of fruits and the finest wines.

The song continues as the owner builds a watchtower in the vineyard, which housed a wine vat.  Think about it.  This image of the watchtower is one of a permanent, immovable point that is higher than everything surrounding it.  The whole vineyard can see this watchtower and from this tower, then, it is possible to view the entire vineyard.  But it is more than a place of mere observation.  It includes a wine vat, or winepress.  This watchtower, then, is the place to which the harvest is brought, peeled, and aged.  It is the place where the harvest is converted to a finely aged wine.  It is the central point, the place where all come to be “aged”, changed into God’s people.  For the Old Testament Hebrews, this was the temple, the center of society.  It was for them that highest holy place where all came to worship God and to be formed into right relationship with their Creator.

God had done everything necessary and expected it to yield the choicest of fruits.  But something went wrong and the harvest was one of wild, sour grapes which, though edible, are not fit for the making of fine wines.  This is probably the key to the passage, for it is here that it is evident that the vineyard is useless without the harvest—it is just land; it is here that we are reminded that God’s Creation is meant for our response.  God expects something of us.

And then the song changes key.  And now we begin to get a little uncomfortable.  “And now, inhabitants of Jerusalem and people of Judah…”  “And now inhabitants of the vineyard that God has created…”  It is at this point that it becomes apparent that the parable is no longer just a nice little entertaining story but is rather an indictment and denouncement of the injustices that had overtaken this society.  You know, for me, this sudden change in person and structure of the passage almost implies that those hearing it just weren’t getting it.  They had gotten so wrapped up in the story that they hadn’t yet realized that it was about them.

And then at the end for those who are apparently really slow on the uptake, the prophet explains it all: the vineyard is indeed Israel and its people are the Lord’s “pleasant planting”.    The implication is that the inhabitants and laborers of the vineyard are no longer even listening to God.  They have treated others badly, even being guilty of the act of oppression or the passive act of closing their eyes or turning their backs while social oppression happens around them.  They have allowed the vineyard to be swallowed up and overtaken by their own greed, self-centeredness, and perhaps even fear.  They have taken what God has provided but have not responded to God’s call to action in faith.  So what began as a glorious love song is now waiting for a harmonious chord once again from the people of God.

 

  • What is your response to this passage?
  • Where do we see ourselves in this passage?
  • What more was there to do that God has not done?
  • Why has it turned out like this?
  • Why is it hard for us to listen to condemnation like this?

 

 

NEW TESTAMENT:  Hebrews 11: 29-12:2

Read the passage from Hebrews

This week’s Lectionary passage continues with our so-called “roll call” of the faithful.  Think of it as our family photo album, as the writer of Hebrews (we don’t really know who that is) brings into our memories the snapshots of the faithful that came before us.  Remember that Hebrews was probably written to a small band of new Christians who were suffering persecution and feeling isolated.  So as we look at this remarkable family the writer of Hebrews sketches, we discover two portraits of faith. One portrait is full of images of triumph: conquering enemies, obtaining promises, shutting the mouths of lions, even gaining victory over death. But the other portrait is filled with images of suffering: public mocking, imprisonment, beating, stoning, homelessness, violence, and death. Our lives are always a mixture of successes and failures, of ups and downs.  But the writer of Hebrews mixes the categories because our lot in life is not a measure of our faithfulness.

The passage becomes a word of encouragement for struggling Christians. If we are struggling, and someone tells us that the true mark of faithfulness is suffering, we might despair. Must our suffering continue forever? If we are struggling and someone tells us that the true mark of faithfulness is triumph and victory, what hope is there for us? But the mixing of suffering and triumph gives us a word of hope: faithfulness shines both in suffering and in triumph, both in sorrow and in joy.  Faith trusts God and God’s promises even when it doesn’t make much sense.  We are in good company.  We are never alone.

We are reminded that there is work to do, a race to run, so to speak.  Think of it as a marathon—sometimes invigorating, sometimes grueling, sometimes crowded, sometimes lonely, but always fixed on what is to come.   So we are exhorted to lay aside those things that might trip us up or weigh us down.  And before us, as laid out by the writer of Hebrews is Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.  Pioneer, here, is the Greek word archegos, which means author, beginner, instigator.  In the context of a race, the archegos is the team captain, the trailblazer. The writer also depicts Jesus as the perfecter—the one who fills in what is lacking in our faithfulness or our work.  He takes our incomplete faith and makes it whole.  And, for us Christians, there is also the awareness that Jesus, too, has traveled this road.

This passage is read a lot in conjunction with funerals.  You can see why.  But it is also a reminder of our connection through Christ to all those past, present, and future and the fact that we are expected to actually do something, to actually participate in the life we’ve been given, to join in this long list of saints and become part of them.  In remembrance, we find our calling to go forward and be who God calls us to be.

Some of you may remember the movie “Dead Poets Society.”  The movie stars the amazingly talented Robin Williams.  Williams plays John Keating, a high school English teacher at an all-boys private academy, who is committed to helping his students take advantage of life’s opportunities.

There is a compelling scene in the movie when Keating leads his class out into the foyer of the building where old photographs of graduating classes from decades past cover the walls.  As the boys study the portraits of the classes who had graduated generations before them, Keating remarks that the men in those pictures were just like them, full of hope and ambition.  Then Keating asks his class, “Did they wait till it was too late to realize their full potential?”  

Then he tells the class that if they lean in close they can hear a message from the men in these pictures.  So they lean in and Keating whispers, “Carpe Diem.  Carpe Diem.  Seize the day, boys.  Make your lives extraordinary.” (From “Postcard from Heaven”, a sermon by Rev. Dr. Charles Reeb, August 15, 2010, available at http://day1.org/2111-postcard_from_heaven, accessed 11 August, 2010.)

 

  • What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  • What does comfort does this give you?
  • What discomfort does this give you?
  • We Protestants don’t have a lot of “saints” or “heroes” that we’ve publicly recognized. We try to be a bit more inclusive.  So who are the “saints” in your faith story?  Who are your heroes?  Why are they on that list?
  • What would that look like to make your life extraordinary?

 

 

GOSPEL:  Luke 12:49-56

Read the passage from the Gospel According to Luke

Needless to say, this is a hard passage.  We’d rather read of unity and harmony and Jesus instead says that apparently we’re just going to have to live with divisions and disharmony.  Here, Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem towards his demise.  So it is apparent here that Jesus is weighing two types of peace—one secular, the other sacred.  The truth is, Jesus did NOT come to bring peace to those in power or to bring comfort to the comfortable.  Jesus came to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable”, to loosely quote a journalist of 100 years ago or so.  Remember that Jesus had in mind a completely new vision, not a “peaceful” earth such that we know.

This is hard for us.  We tend to want an empathetic God, a God who is nice to everyone.  But how in the world, then, would the earth truly get redeemed?  Jesus is combating forms of authority and power that do not fit in with that vision of a wholly-redeemed earth.  The passage begins with the words, “I came to bring fire to the earth.”  That does not sound good.  It sounds much more like confrontation and conflict.  So how can this be good news?  Our answer depends on the way we view the world and the way we view God.  If the world was exactly the way it should be, then this passage would make no sense.  But if the world is marred by oppression and social injustices and killing and war, what would that say about a God who would just let that be?  Jesus is not coming to disturb and bring havoc to a “nice” world; he came to redeem the one we have.

This is a call to fragmentation for the sake of ultimate wholeness.  It is a call to tear down in order to build up.  It is a call, once again, to “die to self”, to let go of what we know and what we have created and what walls we have constructed, and put our faith wholly in the wholly-redeeming God that we know.  It is a call to give your life for the mission of Christ in the world.

 

  • What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  • What makes this so difficult for us to hear?
  • What does “redemption” mean to you?
  • What does “peace” mean to you?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

We all desperately want peace…that is why “Shalom” is such an oft-repeated word.  For, even as a simple greeting, it embodies deep yearning and solemn promise.  So the ancient sage Hillel insisted that it is not enough to simply want peace, to hope for peace, even to pray for peace; he taught us to “love peace and actively pursue peace.”  (Wayne Dosick, in Dancing with God)

If the poor, the women, and the dispossessed sat at the tables where theological decisions are made, there would be a different set of sins. (Joan Chittister, Called to Question)

Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality tied in a single garment of destiny.  (Martin Luther King, Jr., 20th century)

 

Closing

…The world has become so strange, and our place in it so tenuous, where gray seems clearer than the white purity of our hopes, or the darkness of our deathly passions.  There is so little agreement among us, perhaps so little truth among us, so little, good Lord, that we scarcely know how to pray, or for what to pray.  We do know, however, to whom to pray!

We pray to you, Creator God, who wills the world good; We pray to you Redeemer God, who makes all things new.  We pray to you, stirring Spirit, healer of the nations.  We pray for guidance, And before that, we pray in repentance, for too much wanting the world on our own terms.  We pray for your powerful mercy, to put the world—and us—in a new way, a way after Jesus who gave himself, a way after Jesus who confounded the authorities and who lived more excellently.

Whelm us by your newness, by peace on your terms—the newness you have promised, of which we have seen glimpses in your Son who is our Lord.  Amen. (Walter Brueggemann, from Prayers for a Privileged People, p. 65-66)