Baptism of Jesus
Let’s listen again -
13Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” 15But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. 16And 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. 17And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
This story of Jesus’ baptism is told in detail in all four gospel accounts – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. It’s such an important moment. And two details are unique in Matthew’s version of the story—how John says at first that he shouldn’t baptize Jesus.
Diane Chen, professor of New Testament, shares with us these details about the meaning of baptism in Jesus’ time.
“Jewish ritual cleansing by immersion in a mikveh, or ritual bath, was practiced as a form of purification by the time of John and Jesus. These were not a one-time cleansing but repeated when necessary.”
John objects because he thinks Jesus is greater than him.
But Jesus always turning over our sense of who is greater, even in this story.
Jesus continually distributes power, rather than holding onto it, in order to build relationship.
Jesus says he wants to be baptized to “fulfill all righteousness.”
Diane Chen, professor of New Testament writes that
“Righteousness is a relational concept. For example, Abraham “believed the LORD, and the LORD reckoned it to him as righteousness” (Genesis 15:6). Abraham was righteous because he trusted God, not because he was morally perfect.
So, Jesus came in solidarity with the other people coming for baptism.
Jesus “humbled himself alongside his people to wait on God’s mercy. Because of Jesus’ mediatory role, John finally consented to baptize him.”
There’s also something unique in Matthew about the words God speaks.
In Mark and Luke, God addressed Jesus directly, “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22), whereas in Matthew, God made an announcement, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17). Jesus was being commissioned to his messianic task in Mark and Luke, but he was introduced to [everyone] in Matthew.
This declaration is laden with meaning. First, Israel’s king was viewed metaphorically as God’s son (see also 2 Samuel 7:14; Psalm 2:7), ruling Israel on God’s behalf, and leading the nation to live as obedient children of God. For Jesus, though, “Son of God” not only points to his messianic status, but his unique conception by the Holy Spirit as well. Second, Jesus was God’s beloved like how Isaac was the “only son … whom [Abraham] loved” (Genesis 22:2). Just as Abraham was told to sacrifice Isaac, God would also lose his Son to death. Third, Jesus was identified with the servant of the Lord, about whom God says, “Here is my servant, … in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him” (Isaiah 42:1).[1]
This was not only a personal revelation to Jesus about who he was but an announcement to the whole community—and to all of us.
Much later, Christians saw baptism for us in this same way—not only as a ritual cleansing to be repeated but as a kairosmoment.
The Greek word kairos denotes a critical juncture, a divine intervention, or a special moment, in contrast to chronos or everyday clock time. You plot chronos on your calendar, like the game that will be at 7:15 pm tonight. With chronos you can procrastinate, show up late or even miss it all together with no consequence. Kairos is different. Because kairos denotes a unique opportunity, it invites a radical response, an urgent choice, or a fundamental reorientation.
We mostly perceive our lives in chronos time. However, there are events that change our awareness of what time we’re in dramatically. Maybe it’s a medical event or sickness that lays us low. Maybe it’s a failure that threatens to overwhelm us. Maybe it’s the death of a loved one, a life-changing move, a tragedy, a trauma. Maybe it’s a birth, a baptism, a wedding, a healing conversation, a moment a deep connection, clarity and peace. Maybe it’s a new awareness that every moment we get to gather in each other’s presence for worship is total gift.
Jesus’ baptism was this kind of moment -
“At this Trinitarian moment, God the Father spoke through the clouds about his Son, on whom the Spirit descended in the form of a dove.”[2]
This weekend, we remember again the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and that
“… Part of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s many-faceted genius was his recognition that chronos, mere clock time — the passage of days, weeks, and years, no matter how long or short, no matter how trivial or important — is no match for kairos, that opportune moment of God's visitation.”[3]
I love that part of the quote from Daniel B. Clendenin, who writes in a space called Journey with Jesus. “the opportune moment of God’s visitation”
We too have these kairos, these Epiphany moments—when God visits and presents an opportune space for life-giving, life-changing connection. When we become aware that we see Jesus who is calling us to action or pause. When God’s Holy Spirit enters into a situation in a new way.
Diane Chen invites us--“Like the people at the Jordan, we too [can] respond to God’s voice in awe and in gratitude, giving Jesus the worship worthy of his divine status, and the heartfelt thanks for his humility and faithful obedience to his Father.”
We too can be baptized. We too can join in solidarity with all those who know we need God’s forgiveness, grace and promises. We too can carry with us the promise of baptism that counteracts every voice, every system, every pattern of thinking that tries to tell us that we are something less. The promise is that you belong to God, you are beloved and beautiful to behold. Carry these kairos words, this abundance, this gift from God into this week—you belong, you are beloved and you are beautiful to behold. Let this help you know who you are and let it be an announcement to the whole community—because of Jesus, and in spite of all that would say otherwise, we belong, we are beloved and we beautiful to behold. May the baptism of Jesus and so many baptisms in the memory of this space and in your own body memory empower each of us, and all of us together, to awe and gratitude, to times of faithful action, to connection, to renewal and rest.
I Go to Sing
by Lindy Thompson
I Go to Sing
by Lindy Thompson
I might be exhausted and the children might be cranky,
but I will be going to church on Sunday.
Don’t know who is preaching, doesn’t matter –
the sermon may be helpful or not, holds my attention or doesn’t –
it’s the singing. I go to sing.
I get up, get clean, get dressed, possibly get mad (at not-ready kids, at empty coffee pot, at traffic)
get going, get there, get seated, get comfortable, get focused
and when the music starts,
get saved.
It’s the singing. I go to sing.
It’s the willingness to stand if you are able,
the common agreement on page number,
the voluntary sharing of songbooks with people on your row,
even ones you rode there with –
but most of all,
it’s the collective in-breath before the first sound is made,
the collective drawing upon the grace of God,
the collective, if inadvertent, admission
that we are all human,
all fragile,
all in need of the sustaining air, freely dispensed,
all in need of each other to get the key right and not sound discordant –-
it’s the hidden life-celebration in the act of making a joyful noise all together.
We don’t even have to sound that good.
Singing together still brings home
the we-ness of worship, the not-alone-ness of life in God,
the best of all we have to offer each other.
When we are singing, I think that I might actually be able to forgive you
for being so terribly human,
and you might be able to forgive me
for being so terribly not there yet,
and we might be able to find peace now,
not postpone it for some heavenly hereafter
but live and breathe it today,
drawing in the grace of God,
voicing out our need and hope and gratitude and longing.
When we are singing, I can feel the better world coming,
and if I get to be a part of it, you do too . . .
so sing with me, and we’ll make our way down that blessed road together,
collectively better than we ever thought possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment