There in the river with Jesus
Clare L. Hickman
St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Ferndale
January 8, 2023—Baptism of our Lord
Psalm 29; Isaiah 42:1-9; Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17
“… the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to [John the Baptist], and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins” (Mt 3:5-6). And we go there too, when we are baptized. We are there, again, every time we renew our Baptismal vows. Every time we see and touch and are touched by the waters of Baptism.
Just as every Eucharist unites us with the disciples and Jesus at the Last Supper, every Baptism folds time back on itself, transporting us back 2000 years to the Jordan River, where Jesus joined the crowds wading into those muddy waters. And if we allow ourselves to make that journey, we can feel how the crowds yearned for what John was offering, feel how their spirits leapt at the idea of doing what John was challenging them to do. They wanted a new beginning for themselves: a repentance that allowed them to start fresh, to turn away from the mistakes of their life. Wanted to make those mistakes into their past, and their baptism would begin a new future.
Once we are there, though, we might well find that we cannot take our eyes off Jesus. His baptism invites us to expand our idea of what this is all about. John’s describes the baptism he offers as one done with water, for repentance and the forgiveness of sins. John himself clearly sees that this isn’t what Jesus needs, and yet Jesus still comes to be baptized. “You don’t need this,” John protests. “Heck, you should baptize ME!” (Mt 3:14).
But Jesus sees more in Baptism. As John himself foresees, the Baptism of Jesus will be one of Spirit and fire, not merely water and repentance. And indeed, the Spirit descends on Jesus, filling him with blessing and power, preparing/equipping him for his ministry.
Can we see it, when we ourselves are baptized? Recall it, every time we renew our vows, every time we draw near to the waters of baptism?
The Spirit hovers near, when we are reminded of the promises we make in the Baptismal Covenant: of faithful prayer and constant repentance; of love and service to each other and to the world around us; of commitment to justice and the fight for the last and least. We are reminded. And we are also reminded of the promises that God makes us: the promise of forgiveness and ever-renewing acceptance of our broken (but trying our best) selves; and the promise of the power and presence of the Holy Spirit to be with us in the work of the kingdom.
Jesus himself entered the baptismal waters, emerging to hear that love and acceptance and promise from God. He felt the Spirit descend to be with him, to fill him with power and to drive him forward into the mission.
He was baptized with water and the Holy Spirit. And when we get to the beginning of Lent, when we pick this story back up, I think we see the ways in which he was baptized by fire. That’s what John predicted: that the baptism of Jesus would not simply be one of water for repentance, it would be one of Spirit and fire!
Fire will be a recurring theme throughout Matthew, and in the New Testament as a whole. We have come to associate it with Judgment in a way that denotes punishment, but I’ve suggested before that we look more closely, to see that the images of fire are often ones of cleansing and refining, rather than destruction. Biblical judgment does not necessarily mean a final test that we pass or fail. It’s something that measures us, yes, but in such a way that we might know what to leave behind, and what to work on in the future.
The testing of Jesus takes place in the wilderness, where he is tempted by the devil. When we are united to the power and acceptance of Jesus’ baptism, it means we are also united to the fire of this testing. So that every time we face into our weaknesses, into the ways in which we are tempted to take the easy way, the selfish way, we have Jesus with us. We have the acceptance of God and the power of the Spirit with us.
This is the baptism with which we are united! This is the mythic reality we are folded into, when we approach the font. We are there, wading into the shallow muddy waters of the Jordan River. Filled with longing. Filled with regrets. Filled with hope for something better, something larger, something freer for us and for the whole world.
We are there at the river, on the border between the wilderness (which sounds a lot like life), and the settled areas of “the promised land,” (which sounds almost like an impossible dream, even though it’s where our house is). We are there, wondering where God is. Scripture suggests He felt closer when we lived in the wilderness, but surely there’s some way to feel Him now … here?
And then the Spirit descends upon us. The same Spirit who moved over the face of the chaotic waters at the time of creation moves through us now. Comes near to all that is in us that feels like chaos, feels like broken, feels like useless, feels like confusion. The spirit’s wings sweep over all of those parts of us that we had almost despaired of, and she sings a song of creation. A song that refuses to believe that anything is so chaotic that nothing can be made of it.
We wade into the waters, filled with hope and with fear. And the Holy Spirit claims us for God. Fills us with power. And promises us that we will be tested by the wilderness, yes, but only so that we can come closer to God. We will be judged, we will be tested as Jesus was tested, but only so that we might be better fitted for the ministry that lies ahead. Because there will be ministry ahead; there will be a whole life to live in the settled areas. But the God who claimed us here in the borderlands will come with us. The Spirit will continue to fill us. And the baptism of Jesus will live in us as living water, as burning fire, as life-giving passion and power.
It lives in us, and we are reminded of that at every baptism. Every time we see and touch and are touched by the waters of Baptism, we are folded back into that place of creation, into that acknowledgement of our chaos, into our willingness to wade into the muddy waters of our lives to search for our salvation. And there, over and over, every time, we find Jesus.
We don’t have a Baptism today. But we will have a reminder of our own Baptism, with all the promises that come with it: promises we make to God and promises God makes to us. And we will bless some baptismal waters to remind us, which I will asperge you with today (which is to say, I will flick it at you), and then that water will take a place in the narthex, as a reminder you can give yourself as you wish, in the future.
May we know ourselves bound together in those waters, my friends: bound to each other, and bound to God. Amen.