The Baptism of Jesus and Us 2026 A

 

The Baptism of Jesus and Us

To fully understand the scene on the banks of the River Jordan, we need to look at what has been left out of our Sunday lessons between the birth of Jesus, and his baptism, which one needs to recognize, is not Christian baptism. The story in Acts 10:34-43 about Cornelius, is the second description of Christian baptism, and quite possibly the first Gentile (i.e. non-Jewish) Christian baptism. In Acts chapter eight, the baptism of the Ethiopian eunuch who worked for the Candace, the powerful queen of The Kush, ancient Ethiopia, is the first recorded Christian baptism. There is no record of Christian baptism in any one of the four Gospels. Luke’s descriptions in Acts, therefore, are the first recorded episodes of baptism as we think of it in the Church. 

The missing narratives: shortly after the visit of the Gentile Magi, Joseph has a dream warning him to take the child and the child’s mother to Egypt because Herod, the Empire’s appointed King of the Jews, is much vexed at the news the Magi announced of the birth of a child who is to become King of the Jews. One ought to note the irony: Egypt, once upon a time the land that held the Hebrew people as slaves, from which Jesus’s ancestors escaped to freedom to a new homeland, is now considered the safest place to protect the child in the manger. 

And protection is absolutely necessary, as Herod ordered the murder of all the children under the age of two in Bethlehem and the surrounding region – that is, all of Jesus’s cousins, a generation of relatives in the City of David, are slaughtered out of Herod’s paranoia of losing his plum position in the Empire of Rome. And it is not just Herod. We read in chapter two of Matthew that “all of Jerusalem,” the priests and the Sadducees included, were fearful of the news of this child born in Bethlehem, since most of them were complicit with the brutality of the Empire. They were charged with announcing and initiating Government policy, collecting new taxes, and adjudicating those who broke Roman law and were consigned to be crucified. 

Against this background of violence and brutality against the population of Israel, we find John, arrayed in animal skins like the ancient prophet Elijah, baptizing the people of Jerusalem and the surrounding area of Judea; a baptism of repentance – to repent of complicity with the Roman government. To repent of straying from faithfulness to being God’s Servant people as announced centuries earlier by the prophet Isaiah [42:1-9]. The prophetic poetry is ambiguous as to the identity of the Servant. Is it an individual? Or, is it the nation of God’s people Israel? Might it be both? What we do know is that God’s Servant is to enact God’s will of justice, peace, and dignity for all people. God’s justice is to be wrought gently, carefully, caringly. The Servant is so gentle: “a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.” In other words, God’s justice is to be wrought in ways utterly at odds with the strength, force, and power of the Empire. John is calling for a reset. Calling for a resistance movement based in the mercy, forgiveness and love of God. Calling for the people to embrace their appointed role as God’s Servant people as Isaiah had announced centuries before. 

Some Pharisees and Sadducees had come down to the river. John immediately called out their motives as suspect. Especially those of the Sadducees who were complicit with the regime of violence against their own people. John issues a warning: if they are not sincere in changing their ways, there is One who is to come with his winnowing fork and will separate the wheat from the chaff, and the chaff shall be burned in “unquenchable fire.” It is onto this stage, into this ritual bathing in the river, that Jesus, now an adult, chooses to align himself with John’s movement. 

No one, least of all Jesus, knew what would happen. John initially defers to Jesus. “You should baptize me.” I am not worthy. But Jesus is resolute. Jesus is there to validate John’s call to repentance and resistance to the deep violence of the occupation. Jesus goes down beneath the waters of the river. Then, as he comes up renewed and aligned with the call for justice, it happens. The Spirit, the Breath of God which in the beginning blew across the chaotic waters of creation, returns and settles upon Jesus like a dove. A voice from heaven speaks, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” The Servant Isaiah had imagined long ago, the Servant is now both a people and a man. A man declared at birth to be Emmanuel – God with us. 

I am not certain that there are words to describe what Jesus must have felt at that moment. Or, what John must have felt? Not to mention the crowd who had come voluntarily to participate in the renewal of what it means to be God’s people of justice, mercy, and forgiveness; to stand against the strength, force, and power of the Empire of brutality and violence. What did they see and hear in that moment that the Spirit had returned, and the voice that had declared this young man from Galilee as God’s Beloved Son? One thing can be certain. The Pharisees and Sadducees could suddenly see the winnowing fork in Jesus’s hand. They could see that the jig was up. They could see that there was to be a change in the wind, wrought by the breath and Spirit of the God who was there to initiate a new thing, a renewal of ancient vows and promises. And that it was to be a time of grave decision: Do we answer to Yahweh of the exodus, exile and return home? Or, with Caesar, Herod, and the rule of strength, force, absolute power, and brutality? Witness the number of crosses of those already crucified lining the roads and the hillside outside Jerusalem. 

Like all those people down by the River Jordan that day, look at where we find ourselves today as we are about to renew our Baptismal Vows and Promises. In many ways, circumstances are not so different as they were that day Jesus chose to take a stand against violence; against a regime of strength, force, power, and brutality. We live among citizens in our nation who openly declare, “We live in a world, in the real world, that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power… These are the iron laws of the world that have existed since the beginning of time... rather than international law or ‘niceties.’” All too often, we hear of those who shoot first and ask questions later. Who harass U.S. citizens without warrant. 

In a few moments, we will renew our Baptismal Covenant and Vows. When we do, we will align ourselves with John, Jesus, and all those people down by the river, as well as with Christians like The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, and Representative John Lewis, who practiced a “gentle” and peaceful resistance to support a nation of laws and peaceful protest; to seek justice and peace for all people, and respect for the dignity of every human being. We will promise that with God’s help we will seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves. We will promise that everything we do and everything we say will proclaim the Good News of God in Jesus Christ. These are not easy promises to keep. And promises that somehow have become counter-cultural in today’s upside-down world. Jesus calls us to be the Beloved Community of Love. God’s Spirit, God’s breath, God’s holy wind promises to be with us as we decide whether or not to renew these promises. Promises which have felt no more important than they do today. We pray for God’s Spirit-Breath to give us the strength to affirm and fulfill these promises that represent God’s will for all people, everywhere all the time. We say, Emmanuel, God is with us. Now is the time to decide if we really believe this. Amen.