Sunday, January 13, 2019

Jesus baptizes us – Luke 3:15-16, 21-22, Isa 40:1-11, Titus 2,3 extracts

Baptism of the Lord, Year C; Holy Infant parish.


Jesus’ baptism is clearly important.  In Luke’s gospels, it’s our introduction to the adult Jesus, all four of our gospels narrate it, (which means it beats out Jesus’ birth by a factor of 2:1 there). The first parish I served first as deacon and then as priest had a beautiful stained glass window of the scene, which was important enough to me that I picked an image of it to put on the holy card we gave out at my priestly ordination.  Yes, Jesus’ baptism is clearly important.  But, Jesus getting baptized isn’t what struck me as the most important thing in this gospel.  Studying and praying with it over this week, one sentence stuck with me: “He will baptize you.”


And he has.  The promise has been fulfilled.  Brothers and sisters, Christ has baptized us.  That’s what makes us sisters and brothers!  It was something whose awesomeness I think I only realized after I had first baptized.  Like Jesus who encountered the gift of the Spirit as he was praying after his baptism, it was when I was praying in my room after the baptism that an awe came over me, awe over the impossibility of neatly dividing up agency: I had genuinely poured real, physical water over a flesh and blood human being, I had said the words, said “I baptize you,” and God had done something.  God had baptized Alyssa.  I hadn’t cleansed her from original sin, adopted her as my daughter, brought her into the fold of my disciples or started her on the pilgrimage of ongoing growth in holiness.  God had done that.  But those were my hands, and my lips, words my breath made mine, though I can never claim them as any other than gift, gift from Christ, who baptizes us.

And it’s not just with water, though that would be enough.  Water, live-giving and cleansing, richly evocative, calling out to us of healing from sin, leveling the path to virtue that sin makes mountainously arduous.  Baptism with water would be beautiful enough.  But he goes further.  Christ baptizes us with the Spirit.  We immersed in God’s own life.  God’s life-giving creative breath, that inspired prophets, that hovered over the waters of creation, covers us, clings to us, inhabits us more deeply than we dare to probe ourselves.  Yes, the Spirit of God is upon us, between us, among us, and the Spirit’s doing wonderful things.

And in that Spirit, we hear God’s voice.  And God says to us something new: “You are my beloved son, my beloved daughter.  In you, I am well pleased.”  And that’s something new, that’s something that’s wrought in us by baptism, by the first embrace of God that tenderly excites us to holiness enough that we walk, we keep walking until we rest forever in His lasting embrace.  And that’s why, in a very real sense, each of our baptisms were more important even than Jesus’.  Because in our baptisms, something new happened.  If any of you know the song “Particle Man” by They Might be Giants … there’s a line in that about Particle Man, “when he’s underwater // does he get wet // or does the water get him instead.” Christ didn’t get sanctified by baptism; he was already holiness incarnate. But water, water got christened. And now it heals us.

We who were estranged were brought near, we who were outside the fold were made sons and daughter, claimed, embraced.  Jesus was already God’s Son, Jesus was already King, already prophet.  But it’s in baptism that, as the letter to Titus puts it makes us heirs, and begins a process of training in us, training for virtue, training so that we may live heavenly lives forever with God and with each other.  Because that’s what all this is directed to: being brought into God’s friendship, God’s fathership in a new way now, that we might be strengthened to walk that pilgrimage to virtue, that we might live forever heavenly.

I once baptized three siblings at once. The youngest two were 2-5 years old maybe, and didn’t understand a lot of what was going on, but the eldest was 7, and he got it in a different way. The youngest two didn’t remember their father. Julian, the eldest, did, and while he didn’t know the words “restraining order” yet, he knew his home was much safer now his father was allowed in. We spent time preparing for the baptism, playing with all the things we’d use during the rite and talking about what it all meant. Some things seemed to stick and some didn’t. One thing that really seemed to resonate with Julian was the image of being adopted by God in baptism, getting a new father. He seemed to get that so much that I needed to check he didn’t think someone new was moving into his house, but he didn’t, he seemed to really get this idea of a new fatherly relationship with God. As I poured the water and said the words, through his blinking eyes, I saw him smile. In that smile, I realized how well Julian understood baptism. He got, in his heart, in his smile.

Jesus had just baptized him. Jesus baptized us. And that means God claims us, forever.

No comments:

Post a Comment