Now It Begins

Matthew 3: 13-17, page 3 of the New Testament
Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him.
John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.”
Then he consented. And 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. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
Sermon
It has been a wonderful week. I continue to be moved by your hospitality, and my family and I continue to be thankful to be settling in to such a wonderful place as Columbia, TN, such a wonderful church as 1st Presbyterian.
This was my first week in the office, but more importantly, this week also began our 200th anniversary celebration with dinner last Wednesday night where I learned more about this church in an hour than most would be lucky to learn in a year. I suppose Bob Duncan just has a way of getting secrets out of people, doesn’t he?
Last Wednesday evening gave me a lot to think about, and one thing in particular stands out – when Mrs. Doris Kibbons stood and told the group about memorizing the Shorter Catechism as a child, and so was rewarded with a leather bound copy of the New Testament from the Presbyterian Committee of Publications in Richmond Virginia.
I held in my hand a copy of such a New Testament, Frank Dale’s aunt Carolyn having earned the same honor – and I wondered to myself just how many know how impressive memorizing the Shorter Catechism is. All I know is that it’s name is relative – it’s only short in comparison to the Longer Westminster Catechism – but even I can’t tell you a whole lot more than that.
In so many ways things have changed – so many don’t come to Sunday School at all, much less come and dedicate themselves to such a degree that they can memorize the Shorter Catechism. Ours doesn’t seem to be a time of demanding more from members of our churches, of being challenged to deepen our faith, do homework, and take time out of busy schedules to memorize. Ours is a time when we just want people to come to church – have your child baptized – put a little money in the plate – and please come back next week.
For so many churches, sessions and ministers are just thankful to see too many families who only come on Christmas and Easter that we fear encouraging them to come more often; we don’t want to require too much in a class that introduces new folks to our church, we just want them to join before they sneak out the door; and we would never consider requiring anything of anyone who wanted to be baptized – though we know that for so many children, we promise to nurture them in the faith but never have the opportunity to do so.
We don’t want to ask too much, because we are thankful for what we’ve got.
But maybe were not so different from John. As Jesus approaches him for baptism he doesn’t require that Christ attend some kind of class, doesn’t ask for his credentials, he doesn’t look into Jesus’ sordid family history, wondering if the story about Mary’s virgin birth is for real. He is reluctant to baptize Jesus, not because Jesus hasn’t done enough, but because he’s already done too much: “I need to be baptized by you,” John says, “and do you come to me?”
John surely knew who Jesus was, having heard about the birth from his own mother, and so knew that he was standing before the one so many had been waiting for – the one who scripture said would “faithfully bring forth justice,” who “will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth.”
John knew then that Jesus was not the kind who would come and get baptized, fulfilling some obligation to his grandmother only never to be seen again. John must have known that this baptism was only the beginning of something much bigger.
That’s what all baptisms should be – the beginning of a life changed by the power of God – the beginning of a life lived to the glory of God’s Kingdom.
Christ’s baptism marks the beginning of his ministry – he is no longer the sweet baby lying in a manger who threatened Herod’s power theoretically – his baptism is the beginning of his ministry during which he will threaten those in power indefinitely by his defiant words and radical actions.
His baptism is also the end of anticipation, as there is no more waiting for him to grow up – he’s now grown; and there’s no more waiting to see if he’ll be who you were hoping for – he’s about to show you who he is.
Some will be disappointed, having hoped that he would be the kind of Messiah who would fulfill their own dreams, and they will turn away and go on waiting.
Some will be enraged, recognizing that he is one who will change what they don’t want changed and threaten what they hold dear. They will turn against him, siding with those who have the power to silence him with death.
But others will be healed, redeemed, empowered, and renewed, fully changed, finding in Christ their savior.
What we have in his baptism is the beginning of his ministry – the anticipation’s over – now he’ll start losing friends as he begins to say what he believes, doing what he knows he must do to redeem the world.
In so many ways I bet John stood there, reluctant to baptize Jesus not just because John knew who Jesus was, but I bet John stood there reluctant to baptize Jesus because John knew how hard Jesus’ life would be from this time on.
Being born in a manger seems like a walk in the park compared to being sent out to be tempted in the desert by Satan himself – and even being hunt down by Herod seems comparatively painless to having one of your own disciples turn against you. But this was his lot and maybe Jesus knew it had to be this way. There was no more running from it – “So let it be so now” he says to John, “for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.”
There are parts of this reluctance that you can relate to I imagine – there are so many reasons to admire Christ’s courage as he comes to terms with his destiny there on the banks of the Jordan. One of the great preachers of our time, Peter J. Gomes, now on the staff of Harvard Divinity School, once wrote: “The great trick in our intellectual world is to think of something that we want to do and then imagine it to be so impossible as not to be able to do it, which relieves us of the responsibility of trying to do it.”
What prevents us from getting to the work we are called to is so often our own hesitation – our own fear – our own doubt.
Maybe college is over, the world is your oyster, and you dreamed wonderful dreams of using all your gifts to change things, travel the world, and get a great job, but now all you want to do is go back home to your old room. Or you wake up, and in the bed with you for the first time is the one who you’ve promised to spend the rest of your life with – maybe on that first morning you’re happy knowing that the life you dreamed of is coming true, or maybe you’re scared to death thinking of what you’ve just left behind.
Or, maybe, you’re the new pastor in town, amazed at how kind people are, awestruck by their well wishes, prayers for you and your family, taken up in all the hopes for what your ministry will bring, but somewhere in the back of your mind is a small voice saying, “of course they love you Joe, you haven’t done anything to make anyone mad yet.”
Christ stood there on the banks of the river, his baptism the point of no return, and I wonder if Christ was tempted to cut and run.
The reality of life, as our own Sam Kennedy has said it, is that you “shouldn’t get in the game unless you’re prepared to lose.” But losing is sometimes enough to prevent us from ever getting started.
Of course, there’s more to living than winning or losing. In our world that seems to be as divided as it ever has been, living and letting people know who you are, means sometimes losing friends – for as soon as you open up your mouth you are put into categories of Republican or Democrat, Liberal or Conservative, are you with me or are you with them – sometimes you wish you could be on every side, but the world just won’t have it.
Still God calls us to step out, to use our gifts, and while our words and actions may close just as many doors as they’ll open, to keep who we are and what we have to say to ourselves is hardly permissible considering where those gifts came from.
But we fear rejection, we fear failure, we fear not living up to all the hopes and dreams of our parents, our friends, and our God. So God calls you to the water to hear the words that will give you the courage to be the woman or man you were created to be.
Hear these words if you have been afraid to go after the life you always wanted but were reluctant to pay the cost.
Hear these words if you have ignored your calling, for fear of what friends and family would say.
Hear these words if you know what you have to do but need the courage to do it.
Hear these words if you’ve ever doubted your worth in the eyes of your maker.
Hear these words if you’ve ever doubted your worth in the eyes of yourself: “You are mine, the Beloved, whom whom I am well pleased.”
These are words from your creator to you.
Thanks be to God. Amen.