The voice of the Lord is upon the waters;
the God of glory thunders;
The voice of the Lord is upon the waters;
the God of glory whispers:
you are loved.
Amen.
This morning’s readings and this morning’s liturgy are all about beginnings. It’s appropriate, this first Sunday of the new year, this second Sunday after we’ve celebrated the birth of the Christ child; the 12 days of Christmas have passed. The quiet light of Advent and the starry night of the Nativity have been replaced by the light of Epiphany – this sort of strange in-between season that started yesterday.
And in today’s Gospel, we celebrate the Baptism of our Lord, jumping through time from Christ as a baby in a manger to Christ as a man greeting his cousin John at the river Jordan. Infancy, childhood, teenage years, young adulthood – we’ve skipped all of it, and can only imagine the life that Jesus, Mary and Joseph lived, first fleeing to Egypt, then returning to Nazareth, to the everyday life of carpentry, cooking, studying, praying, working.
But this is the moment where Mark chooses to begin his Gospel – the moment when Jesus is named and blessed, both by an earthly prophet and by a heavenly father, the moment Jesus begins the work he was born to do, among the people he was born to love.
John, the voice in the wilderness, all along telling people, there is someone coming, someone so important that I am not worthy to serve him, to untie his shoes – can you imagine John here, on this day, by the river, looking up and seeing Jesus walking toward him? John knew Jesus as cousin and as friend, knew him from before they were even born. And he also knew who Jesus was – the Messiah, as Son of God, the one who would baptize with the Holy Spirit. All this time, John had been waiting, and Jesus had been preparing, and now, it is beginning.
God walks down to the river, incarnate, a human being, just like us, and bows his head to be baptized by his friend, to be washed in the same waters that we read about in Genesis this morning, the waters that God created before time began.
And in baptism, God steps into the profound, imperfect, painful, beautiful life of humanity. In baptism, God reaches out to the human creation, and in the life of Jesus begins his pilgrimage among men and women, poor and wealthy, rabbis and disciples, lepers and prostitutes, tax collectors and fishermen, preaching justice, inclusion, compassion and love. And Jesus’s pilgrimage, his new life begins with the voice of the Lord speaking over the waters of the river Jordan:
“You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
The world is about to change. This is the beginning of something new.
Today we will baptize a new child into the community of Christ, and as we do at every baptism, we reaffirm our own baptisms, celebrating the gifts of this sacrament that connects us as people of Christian faith, the gifts that were given through Christ’s baptism, 2,000 years ago, at the beginning of his ministry.
Baptism does many things. It names us, affirms and acknowledges us as God’s own, and as beloved members of the family and body of Christ. Baptism is a welcoming and a connecting. It brings us into the communion of saints living and those who have gone before us. It draws us together in faith and in love, in relationship, for we are not human beings alone – we are not Christians alone. We travel together, worship and celebrate and grieve and break bread and pray in the strength of community.
Baptism reminds us that God – the God who was present at the beginning, at creation – is also present with each and every one of us, in a very real and earthly sense. God who created the heavens and the earth, who named the light Day and the darkness Night, is also God who walked among us as Jesus, sharing our sorrows and our celebrations, and who still is with us, by day and night, sharing this life with us. God knows us by name, and we are part of God’s creation.
Baptism pushes us out into the world. Mark, in this story of Jesus’ baptism, describes the Holy Spirit appearing as a dove. We who see doves as symbols of peace, think of them as gentle, sweet birds, with quiet cooing voices. But in the Gospel of Mark, the Holy Spirit is not gentle and sweet – the heavens are torn apart when she appears, and, right after Jesus is baptized – read verse 12 – she drives him into the wilderness for 40 days and nights. Baptism by the Holy Spirit started Jesus, and starts all of us, on a new journey, inviting us into a strange and beautiful wilderness, pointing us toward new life in Christ, calling us to new work and new ways of living in the world. That new work is expressed in the words of the Baptismal Covenant, the promises we make as individuals and as community to
continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship,
to proclaim the Good News of Christ by word and example,
to seek and serve Christ in all persons,
to strive for justice and peace among all people
and to respect the dignity of every human being.
The sacrament of baptism transforms us, as individuals, and as community. Even as baptism challenges us to live in a new way, through it God gives us strength, grace and love that is never ending. Touched by living water, we are reminded that creation keeps happening, that we journey together towards eternal life, and that we work on God’s kingdom along the way. It is God’s promise to us, and our promise to God and each other; it is God’s affirmation that we are beloved simply because we are made, and because we are beloved, we are called to love in response. And that transformation, that new life, is where hope lives. It is the beginning of something new.
Amen.
Sermon for the first Sunday after the Epiphany, the Baptism of our Lord, at Trinity Episcopal Church, January 7, 2024.
Photo by Cristian Palmer on Unsplash
