Sermon by Seminary Intern, Deklan J. Lewis

Last year I had wrote and preached from the Gospel of Luke on the Baptism of Christ.

Luckily, Luke & Matthew are not too different from each other. I am going to read the passage from Luke, though, just because it provides a slightly different context. This is from Luke 3:15-17 & 3:21-22.

“As the people were filled with expectation and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, I baptize you with water, but one who is more powerful than I is coming. I am not worthy to untie the strap of his sandals. He will baptize you in the Holy Spirit and fire…Now, when all the people were baptized and Jesus had also been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove and a voice came from heaven. You are my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

Last year, when I studied this passage from Luke, I was in a slightly different place on my journey at that point, and I was feeling very skeptical of the scripture. One of my professors suggested to me that I, instead of looking at passages of the Bible for the things that I didn’t agree with, or the things that frustrated me to look for the things that did make sense, and dig into those. Rather than being distracted by what I didn’t believe, I could find the things that I did believe.

I came upon something really interesting in the commentary that I was reading. In discussing Jesus’ baptism, the commentator observed that Jesus approaches his baptism with humility, and one can imagine with faith and trust. He comes to the place where John is preaching a message of repentance and forgiveness of sins, of turning back to the selfless ways of caring for the weak and the marginalized. In response, Jesus submits himself to the cleansing ritual. Jesus’ thoughts and motivations in offering himself for baptism remain a mystery to us for now, but we have his example to follow. Those observations struck a chord, and I found myself stuck on this question.

Why was Jesus baptized? Why did he have to be baptized?

If he was perfect, there wouldn’t have been a reason for him to be baptized. Perhaps he wasn’t perfect in the way that we’ve always been taught. I know that’s maybe an unpopular opinion, but stick with me. Maybe Jesus made mistakes. Maybe he did things he shouldn’t have done. I think that leaving his parents to stay in the synagogue might have been an example of this. But because he’s Jesus, we brush it under the rug and say that he was supposed to be there because he was God and not a normal 12-year-old sneaking off and disobeying his parents, because obviously, the son of God is never late.

Another thing, do we really think that all that time he spent as a carpenter, Jesus never smashed his thumb and let out an expletive? I’ve only been whittling for like a month, and I have done it at least 10 times. The Bible says that he had siblings. Are we supposed to imagine that he never got upset with him, that he never got into a fist fight over who got to sit up front on the camel?

I am probably gonna ruffle a couple of feathers here. To be honest, my own were a bit ruffled when I was going through this, but what if Jesus was just like us? I mean, it does say that he put on flesh so that he could sympathize with us, but how could he sympathize if he was perfect and never sinned?

I am not sure if this will resonate with you or not, but for me, for a long time, if I screwed up, that was the end of the world.

I was terrible, and no one could possibly love me. Then, because I thought that they would be disappointed and not love me, I resented them and would go unintentionally doing the things that I knew they would not approve of to further separate myself from them. Many of us learn these patterns of behavior at a young age, and they are reinforced over and over again by our families of origin, school teachers, and the churches that we grew up in. For me, the pattern began young and before I was conscious of it, I had developed some nasty habits and coping mechanisms that had become quite addictive by the time I reached adulthood.

By the time I realized I had problems, the cycle seemed impossible to break. No amount of trying or praying or repenting and swearing I would never do it again seemed to work. I can relate to those people lining the banks of the Jordan waiting to be baptized by this charismatic, borderline crazy, religious figure named John. I’ve been in that line thinking that if this guy touched me, I’d be free of all of my habits and hang-ups. Maybe if I were baptized at this church and I was fully immersed as opposed to being sprinkled, it would finally actually wash off all the dirt, and when it didn’t work, and I walked away feeling more broken than before, believing God must really be done with me this time, and there was nothing I could do about it. I’d go right back to whatever the destructive habit was at the time.

What was it that made Jesus go down to the river that day?

Was it Holy Spirit intuition? Like the day at the synagogue? Was it on his checklist from God that day? What if it was a deep nagging, the thing that he kept returning to, the feeling of failure, of disappointment to his parents, earthly and heavenly. What if that day, he knew something had to change, so he strapped on his sandals, trekked down to the river to see his cousin, just to get his mom to stop nagging him.

But with secret hope in his heart, he waited in line just like everybody else. He didn’t push to the front or demand special treatment. At least that’s what the account in Luke tells us. In fact, it says that Jesus was last. It said when everyone was baptized and Jesus was baptized,

I wonder if he thought about leaving. Maybe he got out of line and headed toward home only to feel that pull. Turn back around and get in line at the end. Maybe he hoped that some of the crowd would go away so that he could get a few moments alone with his cousin.

I once went to a healing and deliverance service to see what all the hype was about this particular so-called prophet. There were hundreds of people there. I waited in line forever. People were being slain in the spirit, speaking in tongues, breaking their canes, stomping on glasses. I thought, this must be my day. This guy has gotta be the real deal. I stood in line, I looked around, and I saw this woman whom I knew. We had gone to several such services together in the past, but had lost touch when I did what I always did, and she chastised me for wasting God’s time. She had said that it was useless for me to keep getting in prayer lines and taking time away from other people who really needed prayer, that my problem was that I didn’t want to be free because if I did, all I had to do was walk in it, whatever that meant. Seeing her was it for me. I was out. I didn’t need that type of negativity.

I wonder if there was anybody that day in the crowd with Jesus whose opinions really got his goat. Or maybe he was afraid that John, who seemed to know things about Jesus that others didn’t, would turn him away. In the story of Matthew, John says, You are the one who should be baptizing me. But Jesus was like, Nope, it’s gotta be the other way around. He was pretty adamant. Which further reinforces my wondering about why. It could have been because he knew that it was to be a sign or a fulfillment of ancient prophecy, or perhaps because he needed to be baptized. Maybe he had things he needed to turn from so that he could turn towards other things.

One thing I noted is that Jesus was praying after he was baptized. Did he not get what he was expecting when John baptized him?

I can imagine him exclaiming, directing his frustration toward God. I’m wet, I’m cold, and there’s seaweed in my epic hair, but I feel the same. I’m supposed to be your son, but I just feel like some guy, and I can’t stop. Are you even up there? Are you even listening? Continuing from the gospel account, it says, “And as he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

Well, gee, that was worth the weight and some seaweed. I don’t know about you, but those are words that I have wanted to hear my entire life. The desire for those words has caused me to go to crazy lengths and to put myself in some less-than-desirable situations. To hear that I am loved, chosen, the pride of someone’s life, I wanted to hear that from my parents. As long as I can remember, those words should be a given from our parents at least. No child should have to wonder about the love of their mother or father, but many of us do. It is no wonder then that many of us struggle to believe in the unconditional love of God.

I wonder if this was part of Jesus’ struggle. At least in the Luke telling of the story. There’s no fanfare from the crowd after this heavenly announcement. There’s no article in the Jordan Times “Dove descends and names Jesus the carpenter as God’s son.” In fact, it could be the case that nobody other than Jesus even knew that this happened.

What if Jesus were or is just like us? What if he wondered about the nature of God’s love for him? What if he wondered if he’d missed the mark or been replaced by some other kid, a few villages away, who really never did fight with his siblings? What if he came to the river that day needing an epiphany?

To hear the voice of a parent speaking the words, You are my son. You are the one I want. You are special. You are loved. You make me proud. Now, that would be worth any price. Waiting all day in the hot sun with a bunch of sweaty sinners. Any amount of seaweed, fish swimming around my ankles, and slimy river sand and stones between my toes.

At the beginning of the next chapter of Luke, it says that immediately, Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit and probably some newly found confidence in his identity, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wild.

We know how the story goes. The devil comes and tests Jesus, and he gets all the answers right. How do you think he could do that? Here’s what I think. When you hear God, or even someone whom you respect and whose love you desire, when you hear them claim you as their own, when they show you how much you are loved. When you know, then you know that no matter what, their love for you could never & would never change. You can do anything. You can give up whatever’s holding you back. You can face any challenge. You can look the devil in the eye and say, I don’t need what you’ve got.

Even if you mess up and pick some questionable friends or call a lady a dog or flip over some tables out of righteous anger, you can still know that they love you, and you can know that God will work it all out.

The other thing that I think is that once you hear that voice, you are free to live into who God has called you to be, who God calls all of us to be in the community. There was this thought that had never occurred to me. Jesus comes to this place where John is preaching a message of repentance and forgiveness of sins, of turning back to the selfless ways of caring for the weak and the marginalized. It’s not just about what we turn from, but also what we turn to. The selfless, caring for the weak and the marginalized. He turned from whatever he needed to leave behind so that he could turn toward what God had for him.

I think that’s how it is for us too. It doesn’t end with accepting Jesus and being baptized. We’re called to more.

Where are you this morning? Do you need an epiphany? Do you need to be baptized? Are you waiting in line for the prophet to heal you?

I believe that God is saying to everyone, Here you are, my child. You are chosen. You are special. I am proud of you. Just think on that for a minute. Let it soak in, let it wash over you, like the water of the Jordan River and don’t mind the seaweed or the thing that just brushed your ankles.

The heavenly parent loves you. The heavenly parent looks at you and smiles. You make God happy. Maybe this week is a good time for you to spend some time in the unconditional love of God and get to know how freedom feels.

Or maybe you’ve already had that experience. Maybe you’re living in the freedom of knowing what it is to be loved, but still, something is missing. What’s next? You may wonder. Maybe it’s time to take another turn. A turn toward the work that God calls us toward. The work of justice and building community. Maybe for you, this week is about seeking opportunities to join God in the work of restoring shalom to this war-torn earth that we live on.

Either way, it’s good news. And I think we could all use a little bit of that these days.

May it be so. Amen.

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