January 9 sermon

Text: Matthew 3:13-17
Preached January 9 at Gol and Hegre


Grace and peace to you from God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Over these weeks of Christmas and Epiphany, we’ve been celebrating the Incarnation of Christ—the outrageous scandal of the true God becoming truly human in the person of Jesus. And here we go again. We have Jesus joining with humanity, sharing in the real, physical experience of baptism.

Can you picture the setting of this story Matthew tells us? Can you see the gathered crowds? The sun gleaming on the surface of the Jordan River? The mess of sand and mud that forms its banks? Can you see Jesus and John, standing in the muck having a hushed conversation?

“Why should I baptize you?” John asks. “Shouldn’t you be baptizing me instead?” It’s a logical question. John knew his call—he was to prepare the way for the Messiah. Surely he shouldn’t be baptizing the one whose sandals he wasn’t even worthy to untie!

But, for whatever reason, Jesus knew it was God’s will that he be baptized, even though he was free of sin and had no need of forgiveness. So Jesus submitted to the experience, standing in solidarity with a humanity that toils under the weight of sin, with a humanity that is sorely in need of forgiveness. Jesus joined us in our humanity, and he began his public ministry by being baptized.

And there was more to experience: Just as Jesus emerged from the water, splashing toward the edge of the river, mud squishing between his toes, the heavens opened. Can you see the fluffy clouds parting, the bright blue sky separating as if by a zipper? Can you see the Spirit of God descending in visible form, fluttering toward Jesus? Can you hear the thundering voice of God declaring Jesus his own beloved Son? Or maybe it was more of a soft, smiling voice, gentle and full of love?

Whatever it sounded like, God’s presence was made clear by both word and sign. The crowd heard the words of God and they saw the Spirit descending. We are embodied people, and God speaks to us in embodied ways.
God speaks to us through the scriptures, to be sure, but he doesn’t stop there. God sends us preachers. And I don’t just mean pastors or interns or other professionally churchy types. I mean all the people who proclaim and live out the good news of God’s love in Christ. All the people who remind us over and over, in ways we can both hear and see, that Christ came for us.

And God takes yet another step in speaking to us through the sacraments. In the water of Hoy Baptism, and in the bread and wine of Holy Communion, God’s grace is made visible and tangible—word is joined with sign so we can not only hear and see, but also touch, taste, and even smell, the promises of God for us.

At Jesus’ baptism, God opened the heavens, spoke a word, and made the Spirit visible to the crowds. God’s voice breaks into our world in a variety of ways, and when God’s voice breaks into your life, watch out! Big things will happen.

We can look back just over the last few weeks and recall big things happening in the lives of God’s people. God’s voice broke into Mary’s life and she became the mother of our Lord. God’s voice broke into Joseph’s life and he, too, was swept up in God’s plan. God’s voice broke into the lives of the shepherds and wise men, and they all left what they were doing to go find the Messiah.

This is what God’s voice does: it calls us to Christ. God spoke to Jesus at his baptism: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” God’s voice gives us our identity, and it reorients us toward God’s mission.

God proclaimed Jesus his beloved Son. And so are we proclaimed beloved sons and daughters of God in our baptism, when we hear the words, “Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.”

Child of God. How often do you think of yourself in this way? If someone were to ask you to describe yourself, would “beloved child of God” be near the top of your list?

There are countless ways we can draw our identities from sources other than God. Personally, I have a hard time not putting too much weight on other people’s opinions of me. The intern committee and pastors have been evaluating me lately, and their feedback is very important to me. Now, on one hand, that’s good and healthy. I’ll grow and improve in my vocation based on what they have to say.

On the other hand, sometimes I lose perspective and forget my true identity. Regardless of what anyone thinks of me, I am, ultimately, a beloved child of God. No one else’s negative opinions can diminish us in the eyes of God, nor can anyone else’s positive opinions elevate us in God’s eyes.

No one else’s view of us changes who we are. But God’s view does change who we are. When God looks upon us with favor for the sake of Christ, we are created anew. When God poured out his forgiveness and salvation on us in the waters of baptism, we were drowned to sin and raised to new life. And even though we are still sinful, that sin no longer defines us. It doesn’t have the last word now that God has declared us his beloved children.

Think of the names you’ve been called in the past. Think of the long-term labels you just couldn’t shake: egghead or fatso or stupid or klutz. Think of the one-time insults that have haunted you long after they were uttered.

I’m here to tell you: none of those is your real name. Your identity came from God on the day of your baptism, when you were named “beloved child of God.”

Of course, God is much bigger than any one of us, and other people are also beloved children of God, created in God’s image.

Can you imagine each person in this congregation as beloved of God? Can you imagine all people everywhere as beloved of God? Women and men, Republicans and Democrats, gay and straight, citizens and immigrants, old and young, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, people of every race and nationality, people of every size and shape, people who are homeless or addicted or mentally ill, people who are insecure or self-righteous or just plain mean?

In our polarizing and vitriolic political discourse, we have lost sight of the fact that those who disagree with us are also beloved children of God, and we have fostered a climate where tragedies like yesterday’s shooting in Arizona can occur. How might it be different if we remembered that we are all beloved children of God?

This is the “reorienting” part of God’s voice breaking into our lives. It turns us away from our own agendas and toward the mission of God, which serves the neighbor rather than the self.

When we are baptized, we are baptized into servanthood. This is not just an individual life plan. This is God drawing us into his mission, which is much larger than any one of us.

God’s love is intensely personal, landing on each one of us as the Spirit alighted on Jesus at his baptism. But God’s love is also wild and untamed, always on the move, always unexpected. Just look at the stable, the cross, the empty tomb!

One writer (Daniel D.Chambers) shared a story:

One evening a New Testament professor from Princeton Seminary visited a high school youth group. After the professor finished speaking about the significance of Christ’s baptism as a revelation of God’s presence in Jesus, a high-schooler said without looking up, “That ain’t what it means.”

Glad that the student had been listening enough to disagree, the professor asked, “What do you think it means?”
“The story says that the heavens were opened, right?”
“Right.”
“The heavens were opened and the Spirit of God came down, right?”
“That’s right.”
The boy finally looked up and leaned forward, saying, “It means that God is on the loose in the world. And it is dangerous.”

After his baptism, Jesus went into the wilderness, and it was dangerous. Jesus taught in the temples, and it was dangerous. Jesus healed on the Sabbath, and it was dangerous. Jesus confronted the authorities…and it was dangerous.

God’s call to service is dangerous. It was dangerous for Jesus, whose baptism was the first step toward his cross. It is dangerous for us. God’s work might lead us into unknown territory.

God calls us to serve the neighbor, whatever that might mean. The neighbor might cross our path unexpectedly, and they might not look like us. God calls us to live faithfully in an aggressively secular and consumerist culture. God calls us to share the good news of his love in Christ to a world that desperately needs it but doesn’t want to hear it.

But God never calls us without also equipping us. The Spirit descended upon Jesus at his baptism. And the Spirit also descends upon us and dwells within us, strengthening and empowering us for the work which God sets before us.

You are a beloved child of God, baptized into the love of Christ, sharing in the life of Christ, and called to the service of Christ. This is your identity and your mission, in the face of any challenges you may encounter. And, as the prophet Isaiah told us in our first reading, God upholds and delights in his servant.

Let me remind you one last time of your identity by sharing just a couple pages of this beautiful book about baptism, written by Walter Wangerin and illustrated by Gerardo Suzán. It’s called Water Come Down!

I am the water that fell on you
Three times with the Word that made you new
While everyone smiled and smiled.

Upon your forehead, the cross of Christ;
And in your hand, the light of his light!
O child of earth and skies:
Burning as bright as the angels at night,
You are God’s love and God’s loveliest sight
On the day you were baptized.

All of us now, on earth and in heaven,
One mouth,
Ten mouths,
Ten million and seven,
Greet you, friend. We’re glad you came—
So glad we stand and applaud.

And we call you by your brand-new name;
Beautiful, beautiful child of flame,
You are the Child of God.

Amen.