No Turning Back (homily)
The Baptism of Christ (First Sunday of Epiphany)
Matthew 3.13-17
After years of reflection and worry no doubt, Jesus is in the water with John, the famous baptizer. John himself is all too conscious of the momentous action
this baptism might be – ‘I ought to be baptized by you, and yet you have come to me!’ Jesus comes to the moment of disclosure, showing himself after all those
hidden years in the carpenter’s shop. What it must have taken to bring him to this act.
Neither his nor John’s high expectations were disappointed. And the divine voice was heard to
say, ‘This is my own dear Son, with whom I am pleased.’ A dove hovered over the waters just as the Spirit of God hovered over the waters of creation in the
first days. Here was the sign of a new creation and Jesus could not mistake it. Yet coming out of the waters of this new creation it is not adulation that
greets him, but the terrible loneliness of self-doubt. Read on to the verse
after the story of the baptism: ‘the Spirit led him into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.’ What a let-down!
This is a word of comfort and support for us: even the Son of God knows that sense of let-down. He enters the troughs and peaks of living, and he doesn’t stand aloof when that same
experience is ours. Too often we imagine that if we could only get our faith right then we would be carried along on a height of experience that will push all the troubles and doubts of life out of the way. Or conversely, we think that if our faith comes as a struggle and we have to grit our teeth and grind away at it, then somehow we have failed as Christians. Both outlooks are wrong. It wasn’t like that for Christ, and it won’t be for his followers.
Notice the intensity of the experience described. The implication is, I think, that only Jesus himself sees the heavens opened and hears the divine voice. Is the Gospel writer telling us
this was a special and profound experience for Jesus? Such a moment of intensity
is hard to share, other people often can’t recognize it. I found viewing the Victoria Falls a life changing experience, but no one else seemed to understand. No one else until that day I met a person who had also stood where I had stood next to the thundering waters. People describe a similar sense of isolation and being unable to communicate the experience when it comes to birth and bereavement.
Yet that very sense of isolation isn’t itself true. The experience goes beyond the
self and inevitably touches other lives. The baptism of Jesus means that the Spirit of God is with him, his life has taken a new direction, as it was always meant to. From now on there is no going back. The ultimate consequence of this baptism is the redemption of the world!
Our early Christian forebears had real difficulty with the fact that Jesus submitted himself to a baptism of repentance and the forgiveness of sins. He who was sinless makes himself one with the sinful. Hence the appeal in Matthew to the inscrutable will of God:
‘Let it be so for now. For in this way we shall do all that God requires.’ In John’s Gospel there is no direct reference to the baptism at all. Yet this is the moment when Christ’s individual act becomes the falling domino that will lead to so many other acts.
The early Christians used characters from the Hebrew Bible to interpret what was going on in this act and to make plain the connection between the personal and the social. So Jesus is the new David, anointed to kingship in order to ransom his people Israel. Jesus
is the new Noah who will carry his people through the destructive waters of death and sin. Jesus is the new Moses, who will lead his people beyond the reach of their enemies through the waters of the Red Sea of despair and power’s abuse. And Jesus is the new Joshua who will lead his people over the troubled Jordan to the promised land of God’s Kingdom. All these things begin in the waters of baptism.
And finally, this is all part of the gracious activity of God – it is God’s plan and purpose. Jesus leaves the carpenter’s shop and sudden sets about his mission; his destiny. Prepared for and expected in some ways, but in others a shock that leads John the Baptist to wonder what is going on, and sends Jesus’ family after him to curb his supposed madness. Deep questions are being raised; some greet what’s happening with joy but others with hostility. Suddenly everyone has to have an opinion about this carpenter.
What begins in the waters of the Jordan must go on until the Friday of Calvary and the Sunday in the Garden. There can be no turning back. And the story of Jesus becomes our story also: for we are marked by God, though too often others claim not to notice the sign. We also must contend with the spiritual high-spots that so soon leave us to the struggles of living the faith. We also must live the choosing so that personal faith has social consequences. Like our Saviour, once touched by the hand of God there is no turning
back.
First published in The Preacher No. 152 (January 2014), the journal of The College of Preachers.
this baptism might be – ‘I ought to be baptized by you, and yet you have come to me!’ Jesus comes to the moment of disclosure, showing himself after all those
hidden years in the carpenter’s shop. What it must have taken to bring him to this act.
Neither his nor John’s high expectations were disappointed. And the divine voice was heard to
say, ‘This is my own dear Son, with whom I am pleased.’ A dove hovered over the waters just as the Spirit of God hovered over the waters of creation in the
first days. Here was the sign of a new creation and Jesus could not mistake it. Yet coming out of the waters of this new creation it is not adulation that
greets him, but the terrible loneliness of self-doubt. Read on to the verse
after the story of the baptism: ‘the Spirit led him into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.’ What a let-down!
This is a word of comfort and support for us: even the Son of God knows that sense of let-down. He enters the troughs and peaks of living, and he doesn’t stand aloof when that same
experience is ours. Too often we imagine that if we could only get our faith right then we would be carried along on a height of experience that will push all the troubles and doubts of life out of the way. Or conversely, we think that if our faith comes as a struggle and we have to grit our teeth and grind away at it, then somehow we have failed as Christians. Both outlooks are wrong. It wasn’t like that for Christ, and it won’t be for his followers.
Notice the intensity of the experience described. The implication is, I think, that only Jesus himself sees the heavens opened and hears the divine voice. Is the Gospel writer telling us
this was a special and profound experience for Jesus? Such a moment of intensity
is hard to share, other people often can’t recognize it. I found viewing the Victoria Falls a life changing experience, but no one else seemed to understand. No one else until that day I met a person who had also stood where I had stood next to the thundering waters. People describe a similar sense of isolation and being unable to communicate the experience when it comes to birth and bereavement.
Yet that very sense of isolation isn’t itself true. The experience goes beyond the
self and inevitably touches other lives. The baptism of Jesus means that the Spirit of God is with him, his life has taken a new direction, as it was always meant to. From now on there is no going back. The ultimate consequence of this baptism is the redemption of the world!
Our early Christian forebears had real difficulty with the fact that Jesus submitted himself to a baptism of repentance and the forgiveness of sins. He who was sinless makes himself one with the sinful. Hence the appeal in Matthew to the inscrutable will of God:
‘Let it be so for now. For in this way we shall do all that God requires.’ In John’s Gospel there is no direct reference to the baptism at all. Yet this is the moment when Christ’s individual act becomes the falling domino that will lead to so many other acts.
The early Christians used characters from the Hebrew Bible to interpret what was going on in this act and to make plain the connection between the personal and the social. So Jesus is the new David, anointed to kingship in order to ransom his people Israel. Jesus
is the new Noah who will carry his people through the destructive waters of death and sin. Jesus is the new Moses, who will lead his people beyond the reach of their enemies through the waters of the Red Sea of despair and power’s abuse. And Jesus is the new Joshua who will lead his people over the troubled Jordan to the promised land of God’s Kingdom. All these things begin in the waters of baptism.
And finally, this is all part of the gracious activity of God – it is God’s plan and purpose. Jesus leaves the carpenter’s shop and sudden sets about his mission; his destiny. Prepared for and expected in some ways, but in others a shock that leads John the Baptist to wonder what is going on, and sends Jesus’ family after him to curb his supposed madness. Deep questions are being raised; some greet what’s happening with joy but others with hostility. Suddenly everyone has to have an opinion about this carpenter.
What begins in the waters of the Jordan must go on until the Friday of Calvary and the Sunday in the Garden. There can be no turning back. And the story of Jesus becomes our story also: for we are marked by God, though too often others claim not to notice the sign. We also must contend with the spiritual high-spots that so soon leave us to the struggles of living the faith. We also must live the choosing so that personal faith has social consequences. Like our Saviour, once touched by the hand of God there is no turning
back.
First published in The Preacher No. 152 (January 2014), the journal of The College of Preachers.
