Rev. Doug Floyd

Baptism of Our Lord Jesus Christ
Rev. Doug Floyd
Luke 3:15-22

Aert de Gelder paints a most unusual image of Jesus being baptized by John the Baptist. The image is dim, and the only light is on Jesus as the heavens open and the Spirit descends, and the Father speaks. De Gelder’s style follow his influence: Rembrandt. Though he was considered a lesser artist, I found this image provocative. The beams of light shining down from heaven made me think of icons and the luminous darkness as we look up to the mystery of God.

I tried to find some commentary on this painting. What I discovered was a variety of online prognosticators suggesting that this painting depicts a UFO in the heavens. The disc above with lights shining down is somehow a confirmation of UFOs. Well I didn’t think that. But I did think that this painting captures the mystery bound up the revealing of Jesus Christ. We are so familiar with the Bible, I don’t think it strikes us as odd, as mysterious as it should.

This is an unexplainable event. Based on other times when the Father speaks, it would seem that some people hear a voice and others possibly hear thunder. They clearly don’t grasp the significance of this moment. We read it in light of our theology of the Triune God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Think of a first century Jew who recites the Shema, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.”^[1] What is this voice? Who is this Father? Why a dove? Who is this Son?

The mystery simple stands. There is no side voice commentating, “Ok this is what is happening here.” It simply is.

Our lives are full of mystery. In fact, our existence is a mystery. Augustine said that we don’t even know fully who we are. We learn our real self from God and the church (the saints around us). We are learning who we are. And who we are will be revealed fully when we behold Jesus as He is.

Think of the mysteries of your own life. There is the mystery of birth and death. Both holy moments in our existence. Or what about the mystery of dreams. I dream every night, and I have had dreams that seemed to be guidance from the Lord about specific situations in my life. I have also had many dreams that seemed to be fun and entertaining with no apparent meaning. Then I’ve had dreams that seemed so real, so significant but no clear idea what they meant. A mystery.

The novelist Charles Williams felt like some of the odd coincidences or mysteries in life were places where heaven intersected with earth. His novels explore these moments.

As we reflect on the baptism of Jesus, we see a moment not fully clear. Why is He entering to the ritual of cleansing from sin? John the Baptist cannot understand this. Yet, Jesus steps into the lines of sinners seeking a cleansing to start anew. In the words of JG Hamman, “Jesus condescends.” He leaves His visible glory behind, he condescends to become human and eventually to a death that bears the sins of the world.

This baptism anticipates the coming death. The immersion into human sin and death. This is a new story. It is rooted in the ancient stories of Israel, and yet it is also opening a new horizon.

When Jacob and family enter Egypt, they enter a place of refuge where his son Joseph is beloved by the Pharoah. Hundreds of years later that memory is gone. The children of Israel have descended into Egypt and in one sense, into the watery grave of death. The Pharoah in Exodus literally has the Hebrew boys drowned in the River Nile. This is but a reflection of the people who have descended into a death. They’ve lost their name, their identity, their future.

God sends Moses into this watery grave to call His people back to life. After casting down the gods of Egypt, the children of Israel follow Moses out of Egypt. To emphasize their new life, they pass through the waters of the Red Sea whereas Pharoah and his army drowned in that watery grave.

A thousand years later, the children of Israel will drown again in the waters of Assyria and Babylon. Their Temple is destroyed, their land is taken away, their identity is threatened. God has issued a certificate of divorce to his people, and they seemed to be consumed by the nations.

Ezekiel will tell another story. Forget the old story. The story of being called out of Egypt and being led to the promised land. That world is gone. But there is a new story of dry bones coming to life, of a Temple being rebuilt and the glory of the Lord filling the Temple; a vision of God sitting on His throne. He sees a vision of a river that flows out of the Temple eastward. This sounds like the river that flowed through the Garden of Eden and out to the world.

The river in Ezekiel’s vision brings life wherever it goes. The trees that grow on either side of the river bring food and healing to the nations. Ezekiel tells a new story that gives the people hope. The story is a mystery and yet it points forward to the grace of God be revealed among the people.

Now Jesus comes to be baptized. He is telling a new story in word and deed. Luke tells the story of the baptism right before he tells the genealogy of Jesus. While Matthew’s genealogy starts with Abraham and points to Jesus, Luke’s genealogy starts with Jesus and goes backward all the way to Adam.

Jesus is telling a new story that will ultimately encompass all humanity: Jew and Gentile. Even as the Jews are restored, the pagan nations will come home to Jerusalem and worship the last king of Israel. We’re here today as the Gentiles who have come home.

As we hear this story, we come to see that Jesus is immersed into the story of sin and death. As the same time, we are swept up into the story of resurrection and glory. Pope Benedict XVI puts it this way, “The family tree goes back to Adam, and so to creation, for once Luke comes to the name Adam, he adds: “Son of God.” This is a way of underscoring the universal scope of Jesus’ mission. He is the son of Adam—the son of man. Because he is man, all of us belong to him and he to us; in him humanity starts anew and reaches its destiny.”[2]

When we gather in worship, we put our words and bodies together. When we name Jesus or the Father, Son and Spirit, we bow. We sit to hear God’s address. We may lift our hands in worship.

Jesus is immersed in the Jordan. His body and his prayer for the peoples of the world are joined. As he descends into the watery grave, he acts out his life’s mission to rescue humanity dying in the watery grave of sin and death. As he comes up for the water, the glory of God descends on Him, anticipating the resurrection and the promise for humanity to be raised to newness of life in Christ, to a new story. We follow Jesus in baptism because we know that our story is bound up in His story.

As I thought about the mystery of this story and the glory of God retelling our stories, I remembered a poem I wrote around 20 years ago. I knew I saved it, but files formats have changed, and I almost gave up on finding. Then suddenly, it appeared. I’ll end with it.

Baptism

Plunge me
Plunge me into the dark deep,
cosmic chaos.
Bury me in the watery grave.

The dark diluvian waves
Batter my flesh.
Struggling to breathe, struggling to survive,
My arms and legs burn in heated exhaustion.
The water wins.
The great I falters and crumbles and dissipates
Under the relentless assault.
I am undone.

In the darkness, there is nothing,
No, this, no that.
The dark waters cover all.
The great dreams we dreamed,
The great thoughts we thought,
The great deeds we did,
All gone.
All failures and successes,
Every sadness and every joy
Vanished, gone.
Only nothingness.
Only absence.
In the dark there is only the formless and the void.

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