Showing posts with label Matthew 3. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Matthew 3. Show all posts

Sunday, January 09, 2011

Living Wet

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday January 9, 2011, the First Sunday in Ordinary Time also known as "Baptism of the Lord" Sunday.

Isaiah 42:1-9
Psalm 29
Acts 10:34-43
Matthew 3:13-17

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

If you have not seen the Walden Media movie “Narnia, Voyage of the Dawn Treader” in the theater or if you have never read the C. S. Lewis Book, then consider yourself warned: This is a “spoiler alert.” I am going to share an important plot point. Not the most important, but still very important. Now, on with the sermon.

Last week, Marie and I saw “Voyage of the Dawn Treader” at the theater. It was the first time we had seen a movie in the city where we lived in years, and it was great. We sat there with our 3-D glasses, a far cry better from the last two generations of 3-D entertainment I’ve seen, along with a dad, his teen daughter, and her BFF; and we all enjoyed this wonderful movie. My short review: good story, nice effects, good use of the 3-D, but do read the book.

It was a good movie, but it is a far better book.

This book introduces a new character to the Narnia universe, a cousin of the Pevensie children, Eustace Clarence Scrubb. For me, the easiest way to describe this young boy in the first half of the book is to say that Eustace rhymes with useless. While Lewis is more subtle about this in his writing, the screen writers take a ham handed approach as Edmund rhymes, “There once was a boy called Eustace/who read books from the facts that were useless.”[1]

On the voyage, Eustace becomes a dragon on account of his selfishness, his self pity, and his greed. In the movie, the great lion Aslan shatters the dragon skin from Eustace by the power of his mighty voice. The power of his roar, a lion’s words if we want to think about words as acts like we have over the past couple of weeks, separates Eustace from the physical curse of being a dragon.

But that’s not the way that it happens in the book. As for me, the movie’s speech wasn’t terribly memorable. Eustace did describe the power of Aslan, but the images from the book are burned on my psyche, and especially on this Sunday the words from C. S. Lewis’ work are far more important.

Eustace describes his encounter with the great Lion to Edmond. [2] Aslan convinces Eustace to follow him from the valley into the mountains; follow him to the top of the mountain; follow him to a wonderful garden. The garden was unlike any Eustace had never seen before. It was green and lush. It’s trees were full of fruit and flowers. And in the middle of the garden was a well.

Eustace was in considerable pain because a piece of jewelry, a bracelet, was biting into his arm. When he was a boy the bracelet was very loose on his arm, but on his thicker dragon upper arm it was terribly small and very painful. He sensed, he knew that if he could soak his swollen arm in the well it would be healed. But Aslan told him that first he would have to undress, he would have to shed the dragon’s skin. So Eustace began by scratching. His scales began to come off like a fish being cleaned. And as he scratched, he noticed that he was able to take off his entire skin, like peeling a banana.

After a couple of minutes, he was able to step completely out of his skin. He stood next to it, and he was sickened by its sight. He was glad to be rid of the skin and began to enter the spring. That was when he noticed that he was unable to shed the dragon’s skin. There was another layer of skin under the first. And there were more layers under that one. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many times he peeled a layer of skin, he was not able to rid himself of the dragon’s skin.

After Eustace tries on his own several times, Aslan tells Eustace, “You will have to let me undress you.” Eustace was frightened. He was positive that having the dragon’s skin torn by the claws of the great lion would be excruciating. But his arm hurt so badly that he was willing to take the risk. Eustace laid back and the first cut from Aslan’s claw was so deep that Eustace thought it went to his very heart. The pulling of the dragon’s skin was more painful than anything he had ever felt. After a time, Eustace was able to see the dragon’s skin set aside. It was not like the layers of skin he had taken off. This skin was far thicker, and far greener than what Eustace had been able to remove himself.

His skin being removed, Eustace felt raw. Aslan came to him and lifted him (which was also pretty painful since he had just lost his skin) and tossed him into the well. It stung for a time, but quickly the pain was gone and he felt refreshed. His arm was healed. In fact, he had been restored. Eustace was no longer a dragon, he as a boy again. And while Eustace could not remember how, he had been dressed in new clothes by Aslan and was taken near the camp of the rest of the crew of the Dawn Treader.

When Eustace returned to the camp, there was great joy and celebration. They shared a wonderful breakfast and shared great stories about the island, and about Aslan. The way I like to look at this story, it is as if Eustace receives the baptism of Aslan. His old skin is shed and he is made anew in the waters of Aslan’s well. It is only when he lives wet, in relationship with the lion, that Eustace quits being, well, useless.

John says “I need to be baptized by you,” then he asks Jesus, “do you come to me?” John knows his role. Matthew 3:11 John clearly tells the Pharisees and the Sadducees, “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” So John knows that he is not the one, he is the one who makes his path straight. John knows Jesus doesn’t need his baptism, he needs Jesus’.

But in a word, Jesus let John know he needed John’s baptism and everything was right in creation. John knew Jesus’ words were the answer to his question, the words that overcome all objection. “It is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” This is when John allowed the drama to unfold the way it had been ordained.

“It is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Righteousness, in a word, in a moment, John knew what this meant, so what does it mean to us?

Our reading from Isaiah reminds us that the Lord calls the prophet in righteousness. The Lord has given him to the people as a light to the nations so that he might open the eyes that are blind, bring out the prisoners from the dungeon and release from prison those who sit in darkness. The Lord gave Isaiah to the world to show us that the former things have come to pass, and the new things the Lord now declares will be shared with the prophet before he shares them with the rest of the world.

The Lord tells Isaiah the former things have come to pass, and Isaiah will be told of the new things now declared before they spring forth. These are not the sort of things that one would tell a causal acquaintance, someone on the street. There was a relationship, [3] a relationship between the Lord and the prophet, an intimacy I can scarcely imagine. I imagine John was experiencing this same intimacy with the Lord Jesus in the waters of the Jordan.

John knew that righteousness exists in relationship. John knew as the readers of this gospel knew in the first century that righteousness only exists in relationship. In the language of our gospel reading, in ancient Greek, righteousness can only exist in relationship.

And there is more to this righteousness.

The obvious question that comes from this reading from Matthew is why in the world Jesus would need a baptism for repentance of sin? He is without sin, so of course he didn’t. But in presenting himself for baptism, Jesus emphasizes doing what is right. The action which he fulfills in this moment and will continue to fulfill throughout his life on earth is what he was supposed to do, what he had to do.[4] While remaining fully divine, Jesus empties himself of all Godly status and privilege; accepting life on earth as a human being; human life to the point of facing life’s death, even death upon the cross.

He wasn’t forced to do these things. But being Jesus, the Son of God and the Son of Man, integrity demanded he could do nothing else.

Jesus could have come to the river to establish righteousness, but that is not what he had come to do, not in this moment in time. When John consented to Jesus’ coming to the river, Jesus was immersed into the waters of the Jordan. When he arose from the waters, Jesus saw the heavens open. He saw the Spirit of God descending on him like a dove and lighting upon him. And then a voice was heard from heaven.

Hear the words of the psalmist who wrote:

The voice of the LORD is over the waters;

the God of glory thunders,

the LORD, is upon the mighty waters.

The voice of the LORD is a powerful voice;

the voice of the LORD is a voice of splendor.[5]

As our gospel reading comes to an end, the voice of the Lord is heard over the waters, a voice of power and full of splendor. The voice which thunders over the mighty waters tells all who are assembled,[6] “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

In due time, Jesus would give the world a new righteousness, a new relationship with the Lord open to all of us, not just the prophets of the Old Testament. But this was not the reason he came to the river. Jesus had come to the river to do the right thing. He came to accept the baptism of John, creating a with him relationship available to all who seek it.[7]. And in his obedience to righteousness he did what was pleasing to God, receiving the anointing of the Holy Spirit, hearing the glorious voice of the Lord.

This is as far as I got by Saturday afternoon. Then I checked facebook and when I did I found out about the shooting in Tucson. I read about a mad man who took more than a dozen shots into a crowd at a political event, killing six including Federal Judge John Roll and a nine year-old girl, wounding twelve including U.S. Representative Gabrielle Giffords.

It seems that in times like these, when chaos looks like it is going to swallow us all, that people come to church seeking answers, seeking a word from the Lord. Today I speak about righteousness that comes through relationship. I speak of a man who takes a baptism that is not his, but he takes it on behalf of all of us. He accepts the baptism of water to stand with us in the waters of the church. He has chosen to live wet in the waters of our baptism, a baptism he does not need, but chooses to accept.

It’s funny how many of those images will return around Easter time. Then he will take what should be assigned to us again. Then he will accept a punishment that we deserve, not him. And he will do it on our behalf.

Today, we come to the font, accepting three new members into this community, a community established in the waters of his baptism and in ours. Today we will come to the font and ordain and install new leaders, Elders into this part of the Body of Christ. One of these Elders has served the congregation and the Session faithfully. The other has served the congregation faithfully and begins serving in a new ministry today.

Today we will come to the table to celebrate the Lord’s Supper sharing the Bread of Heaven, the Body of Christ broken for us and the Cup of Salvation, the Blood of Christ shed for us.

In our reading today, through the Baptism of the Lord, we are again called to remember our own baptism. Our baptism is a bath, a tomb, a womb. Our baptism is a gift which identifies us with the community Jesus calls into existence every day. A community he founded and a community he joined in the waters of his baptism, done through righteousness which is a gift freely offered which we freely desire.[8] In the waters of the baptism we share together, we live a wonderfully wet life.

As for yesterday’s shooting, I have no new word. I have no new insight. I have no new wisdom. What I have, the only thing I ever always have, is the promise of the Lord our God. The only thing I really have to say about this is that as we are called to live in righteousness, in relationship with Jesus Christ. And as in the life of Christ, sometimes we live wet in the waters of our baptism; and in other more horrific times it is in the blood of the cross.


[1] “Narnia, Voyage of the Dawn Treader” http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0980970/quotes, retrieved January 5, 2011.

[2] Lewis, C. S., Voyage of the Dawn Treader, The. Harper Trophy: New York, 1952, 1980, pages 113-117.

[3] Kittel, Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, volume II, page 195.

[4] Ibid, page 198.

[5] This version of the Psalm is found in the Presbyterian Church Book of Worship.

[6] Not all scholars agree that the assembly heard the words of the Lord. But because Matthew’s gospel says, “This is my Son” instead of “You are my Son,” I am inclined to side with the scholars that say everyone heard the words. On the other side, I believe only Jesus saw the Spirit come based on the pronouns used in Matthew’s gospel, “…the heavens open to him and he saw the Spirit…”

[7] Kittel, ibid, page 198.

[8] ibid

Sunday, December 05, 2010

Hinting at Jesus

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday December 5, 2010, the 2nd Sunday in Advent.

Isaiah 11:1-10
Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19
Romans 15:4-13
Matthew 3:1-12

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

Meredith Kemp-Pappan is a recent Austin Seminary graduate working in the denomination’s Office of Evangelism & Church Growth. The other day her twitter feed offered this little tidbit about today’s gospel reading, “The more I think about it, John the Baptist was a real pain in the @#%* neck.”[1] This much is true, John was a thorn in the sides of many people, especially those who were the rich and powerful people in the Jewish community; and particularly Herod Antipas, the Tetrarch of the region John called home.

John came from the wilderness of Judea, which meant to everyone who knew the formal politics of the region that he was nobody. Where is power focused? It’s in the cities, of course. Whether Austin for state government, D.C. for the federal, Louisville for the denomination, or even Dallas for the Presbytery and the Synod, the seat of power ends up being in the cities. It may not have happened in that order. Everyplace was nowhere before it became somewhere, so it could well be that the seat of power nested and the city grew up around it. Regardless, the wilderness is not where power comes from and it’s where John set up his operation. But hey, the wilderness was good enough for Elijah when he started in ministry, so it can’t be all bad.

There is another thing that Matthew’s gospel tells us that shows that John is a great big nobody, his clothes. I love driving through the square outside the Federal and County courthouses and looking at the people. The men and the women in their fine suits; you know who the people who have power are. You can tell by the way they’re dressed. You can tell by the cars they drive. You can tell by the way they carry themselves. The folks who are being accused, especially in the county courts, not so much, we often see them wearing jeans and a shirt. Their shoes aren’t shined. They’re scared of what could happen next.

The moneyed powerful have lunch at The Bakery Restaurant on the square. Those without power, prestige, and cash; it’s McDonalds if it’s not a bologna sandwich. Last Wednesday I stopped by The Bakery and as I walked around the square and there were more suits having lunch than you’ll find at a Tux shop before prom. Even the “Mother’s Day Out” crowd was dressed like they watched one too many episodes of “The Real Housewives” on Bravo.

So consider then as John comes wandering out of the wilderness and into a group of people. Some of them are the well heeled folks from the seats of power; others are rural folk trying to scratch out a living in the hinterlands. He doesn’t look much like either group. He is wearing camel hair clothes with a leather belt. In a fashion forward way, it sounds like he’s a sharp dressed man. In truth, the clothes he was wearing would look to us like a rough camel skin smock tied with a leather belt. There is no mention of sandals and certainly no mention of boxers or briefs. He doesn’t have the big bucks haircut and a comb would probably surrender the moment it saw his head.

He’s wild, he’s unruly, he looks dangerous, and he’s attracting crowds, crowds who have come to confess their sins and be baptized by him in the Jordan. The contrast between John from the wilderness and all of the people who came from Jerusalem and Judea to see him was deep, deep indeed, but there is one more thing that we must remember. The well heeled people came out to the wilderness to go see John. It’s like the Presbytery office heading out to deep west Texas because they heard there was a spiritual ruckus exploding around them, and they wanted to see what the hullabaloo was about and become a part of it too.

Style never goes out of style, and when a trend is to be followed; leave it to the trend setters to spot the good ones and latch on like a leech.

If the best defense is a good offense, John was the most offensive of all. He knows why they’re coming. He knows that they want to see the show and become a part of the show. The Pharisees and Sadducees figure that they’ll be able to tell their good friends and not-so-friendly rivals that “they were there” and “they saw it all” when John the Baptist was getting started.

Can’t you hear it now, “Oh yes, I was among the first to receive his anointing. You should have seen the scene! You should have been there!”

John of course isn’t having it. “You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee the coming wrath?” He not only doubts their intentions, he invokes an animal which is associated with the fall of humanity from grace into sin and for good measure isn’t kosher. He not only calls them insincere and insignificant, he calls them unclean.

In my opinion, television shows, movies, music, and even sporting events get bluer and bluer with their screams and their insults. I say that the well crafted insult with a well placed word says much more with far less, and John demonstrates this today.

Then he even derails their first line of defense, who they are with the authority they receive from the synagogues and the temple. John cries out “Don’t say to yourselves, ‘Abraham is our father,’” You know they want to answer back “How dare he! Doesn’t he know who we are?” John warns them not to go there, not to invoke their status as the sons of Abraham because God can raise children from nothing. Their lofty status and their expensive suits and fine shoes mean nothing to John the Baptist. John may be the original king of “what have you done for me lately?” Yes, the leaders of the temple and the synagogues have been important to the nation, but what have you done for me lately?

John’s take, you are nothing, nothing to the kingdom of God.

Given that John thinks little of the temple elite giving lip service, er, glory to God in the highest; he tells them to produce fruit in keeping with repentance. John tells them that a good tree will produce good fruit and the trees that are producing bad fruit are all ready marked for the fire by the ax setting at their root ball.

United Church of Christ pastor Mark E. Yurs recently wrote, “John’s wilderness preaching brings to mind a memorable line from Stanley Hauerwas and William H. Willimon. …They write, ‘Indeed, one of [the two] us is temped to think there is not much wrong with the church that could not be cured by God calling about a hundred really insensitive, uncaring, and offensive people to ministry.’”[2]

On a side note, this speaks to political correctness. In the early 1990’s, when this Hauerwas and Willimon quote was written, political correctness was beginning to define itself. As for me, when political correctness was about treating others, particularly those who are different, with respect and dignity; I could get behind that. It reminds me of a step toward Christ’s invocation to love one another. Of course, when PC morphed from respect and dignity into not only people trying not to offend one another but legislating words and thoughts of offense, I became more and more leery. You could say I love the concept and the motivation, but I’m not much enamored with the execution or what has come from it.

John the Baptist would have nothing to do with the concept of not offending someone. He downright knew how to offend people for the kingdom of God. That being said, along with Hauerwas and Willimon, I can’t imagine the Church universal being able to handle more than a hundred John the Baptist’s at any one time.

Meredith Kemp-Pappan has a point, “The more I think about it, John the Baptist was a real pain in the @#%* neck.”[3] If the Reverend Kemp-Pappan threw this quip to the universe as a random thought in a tweet, she should be affirmed that Hauerwas and Willimon thought enough about that sentiment to publish a similar thought twenty years ago. Yes, John’s a pain, but he’s the kind of pain the Church could use from time to time.

Then, at this point in John’s wilderness sermon, I imagine he drops his voice to a different level as he tells the world what’s coming next. He hints that there is a change on the way. He hints that someone who will do the work of redeeming creation is coming. He is coming with the Holy Spirit and fire. The name is unknown, the person is unknown to John at this moment, but we know who he is hinting at, he’s hinting at Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus who is the Christ.

He hints that while the baptism he celebrates is a ritual bath cleaning us for repentance for sins. The baptism that is coming will serve as a refiner’s fire. The baptism of the one who comes will separate us from our impurities like the flames eliminate the chaff from the wheat leaving only the kernel of truth behind. He tells us that the fire is unquenchable, but the wind that blows, the Holy Spirit of God, we know that this wind will never quit blowing either.

So what does this tell us for today?

The first thing is that as John speaks truth to power, we are to speak truth to power. Folks who are so impressed with their own power and prestige have no place for God in their lives. People who are full of themselves have no place to be filled in Christ. According to scripture, over the course of the next few years the elite would show that they have no place for Jesus in their lives. The power elite of this age don’t seem to be much different.

At that, in many ways, many of the power elite of the church (lower case “c” here) seem to have been co-opted by truths that are not the truth John brings from the wilderness. It’s a metropolitan, cosmopolitan truth that has more to do with power and lunch than with the authority of God and bread of life. It is up to us to speak truth to this power. It’s not a comfortable place to be, and it’s not a comfortable thing to do, but John the Baptist was not about comfort.

So what is that truth we are to speak? Jesus is coming, that’s the truth. As he was coming 2,000 some years ago, he is coming today. Thy kingdom, the kingdom of God is coming. I always got a kick out of that old bumper sticker that said “Jesus is coming, look busy” because that’s hardly necessary. Jesus knows who has been busy and what they have been busy with. If we have been wrapped up with ourselves he will know. If we have been wrapped up with his people, he’ll know that too.

I am not saying that we are saved by our works, but we will be judged by them. All of the things that seem so important in this life which are not holy will be burned away by the refiner’s fire like so much chaff from the wheat. The branches, limbs, and even trees that bear poor fruit, or no fruit at all, will be introduced to the ax and thrown to the flame. No, we aren’t worthy to carry his sandals, but we are to carry his Word into the world.

Finally, John’s faith is dangerous. We all see where it got him. He spoke the truth to Herod Antipas and met his maker face to face for the trouble. To speak the truth to the world, we will not always be loved. Then again, this is the way of all the prophets.

Now, I’m not saying that we should go out there and bust chops in the name of the Lord. As the old English saying goes, it’s easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar. But sometimes, the vinegar is what’s necessary to clean up sticky theology when too much honey has been poured. The world may have a place for a hundred John the Baptist’s, but I don’t think even Texas is big enough for that much unvarnished truth at one time

So friends, beware the yeast of the Pharisees so that we aren’t lifted up in our own importance. Listen to the truth around us and know that some days will be better than others. Let’s know that John the Baptist was a real pain in the @#%* neck and know that his rough edges are sometimes necessary. It’s the rough edge of sandpaper that smoothes the surface of the wood. Let us prepare for the coming of Jesus, because yes, advent means coming. And that’s John’s message, Jesus is coming.


[1] Meredith Kemp-Pappan, Twitter Feed, 8:17 AM, December 2, 2010. The word I mumbled through in worship is “ass.”

[2] Hauerwas, Stanley, and Willimon, William H., “Resident Aliens.” Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1989, page 167 cited by Mark E. Yurs, “Feasting on the Word” Volume A.1. Bartlett, David L. and Taylor, Barbara Brown, Editors. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010, page 45.

[3] Ibid Meredith Kemp-Pappan.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

First Words

This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on January 13, 2008, the 1st Sunday of Ordinary Time, Baptism of the Lord Sunday.

Isaiah 42:1-9
Psalm 29
Acts 10:34-43
Matthew 3:13-17

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

Between 1984 and 2004, Kelsey Grammar played psychiatrist and radio personality Frasier Crane on the TV shows “Cheers” and “Frasier.” The only person to play a character as long on television was James Arness playing Marshall Matt Dillon on “Gunsmoke.”[1] One episode of “Cheers” showed what happened when Frasier and his wife Lilith had to “[cope] with the fact that their son Frederick needs more care from them.”[2] Among the things that happened was an argument between Frasier and Lilith because Lilith objected to Frasier bringing baby Frederick to the bar with him.

During this argument, the resident barfly Norm came into the bar, and as with every time he came on scene, everyone in the bar erupted with the greeting, “Norm!” And as suddenly as Norm came into the bar, and immediately after the bar erupted with Norm’s customary greeting, Frederick says his first word, Norm.

Generally a baby’s first words are “mama” or “dada” or something else familiar, so if little Freddy had spent much time in the bar, it may not have been so unusual that his first word was “Norm.” First words mean so much to parents, even fictional parents that this utterance caused the fight to end and a celebration to erupt.

Fights and celebrations seem to be the norm for first words today, because the first words that Jesus speaks in Matthew’s gospel also leave us with a small fight and a joyous celebration.

Jesus’ first words weren’t some great proclamation. He did not come announcing to everyone at the Jordan his presence or his reason for being there. In fact, according to Matthew’s gospel, Jesus’ first words were an answer to a question.

John says “I need to be baptized by you,” then he asks Jesus, “do you come to me?” John knows his role. Matthew 3:11 makes this clear as John says to the Pharisees and the Sadducees, “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” So John knows well that he is not the one, he is the one who makes his path straight. John knows Jesus doesn’t need his baptism, he needs Jesus’.

But in a word, Jesus let John know he needed John’s baptism and everything was right in creation. John knew Jesus’ first words were the answer to his question, the words that overcome his objection. “It is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” This is when John acquiesced to let the drama unfold this way, the way it had been ordained.

“It is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Righteousness, in a word, in a moment, John knew what this meant, so what does it mean to us?

Our reading from Isaiah reminds us that the Lord has called the prophet in righteousness. The Lord has given him to the people as a light to the nations so that he might open the eyes that are blind, bring out the prisoners from the dungeon and release from prison those who sit in darkness. The Lord gave Isaiah to the world to show us that the former things have come to pass, and the new things the Lord now declares will be shared with the prophet before he shares them with the rest of the world.

The Lord tells Isaiah the former things have come to pass, and Isaiah will be told of the new things now declared before they spring forth. These are not the sort of things that one would tell a causal acquaintance, someone on the street. There was a relationship, [3] a relationship between the Lord and the prophet, an intimacy I can scarcely imagine. But I do imagine that John was experiencing this same intimacy with the Lord Jesus in the waters of the Jordan. John knew that righteousness exists in relationship.

And there is more to this righteousness.

The obvious question that comes from this reading from Matthew is why in the world Jesus would need a baptism for repentance of sin? He is without sin, so of course he didn’t. But in presenting himself for baptism, Jesus emphasizes doing what is right. The action which he fulfills in this moment and will continue to fulfill throughout his life on earth is what he was supposed to do, what he had to do.[4] It is in his actions, emptying himself of all Godly status and privilege; accepting life on earth as a human being; human life to the point of facing its ultimate death, even death upon the cross.

He wasn’t forced to do these things. But being Jesus, the Son of God and the Son of Man, integrity demanded he could do nothing else.

Jesus could have come to the river to establish righteousness, but that is not what he had come to do, not in this moment in time. When John consented to Jesus’ coming to the river, Jesus was immersed into the waters of the Jordan. When he arose from the waters, Jesus saw the heavens open. He saw the Spirit of God descending on him like a dove and lighting upon him. And then a voice was heard from heaven.

Hear the words of the psalmist who wrote:

The voice of the LORD is over the waters;
the God of glory thunders,
the LORD, is upon the mighty waters.
The voice of the LORD is a powerful voice;
the voice of the LORD is a voice of splendor.[5]

As our gospel reading comes to an end, the voice of the Lord is heard over the waters, a voice of power and full of splendor. The voice which thunders over the mighty waters tells all who are assembled,[6] “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

In due time, Jesus would give the world a new righteousness, a new relationship with the Lord open to all of us, not just the prophets of the Old Testament. But this was not the reason he came to the river. Jesus had come to the river to do the right thing. He came to accept the baptism of John. And in his obedience to righteousness he did what was pleasing to God, receiving the anointing of the Holy Spirit, hearing the glorious voice of the Lord.

First words mean so much to parents. The Sunday Teen Study just finished “The Gospel According to the Simpsons.”[7] One episode of “The Simpsons” is the story of the first words of the Simpson children.[8] Bart’s first words are “aye carumba” because of something he sees. Lisa’s first word is “Bart” because she adores her older brother. And Maggie’s first word, and to date the only word she has spoken in the series, is “daddy.”

Jesus’ first words weren’t some great proclamation. He did not come announcing to everyone at the Jordan his presence or his reason for being there. His proclamation would come soon enough, a proclamation so wonderful that in two millennia people have not tired of telling the same glorious story. But what he does is a glorious proclamation. Today he comes to the river to fulfill all righteousness. In the fulfilling of righteousness, Jesus identifies with us, with our struggles, and with our plight. He shows the world that he has emptied himself of his Godly continence and exchanged it for a human face.

And in this moment of identification, the Spirit which is his to begin with alights upon him. The Spirit comes to show that his Godly continence has never left him. He has been, is, and will always be fully human and fully divine.

Then all of creation hears the words from on high “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” In this way, Matthew’s gospel shows us that righteousness is a gift which God gives to those who ask for it.[9]

From this pulpit I have spoken of remembering our baptism. I have said that as others are baptized, like Asher and Maddie, we are called to remember our baptism. In our reading today, through the Baptism of the Lord, we are again called to remember our own baptism. Our baptism is a bath, a tomb, a womb. Our baptism is a gift which identifies us with the community Jesus calls into existence every day. A community he founded and a community he joined in the waters of his baptism, done through a righteousness which is a gift freely offered which we freely ask.

Ask, seek, and remember. Then taste and see that the Lord is good.

[1] Wikipedia.com, “Frasier Crane” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frasier_Crane, retrieved on January 10, 2008.
[2] TV.com, “Cheers” episode summary, http://www.tv.com/cheers/breaking-in-is-hard-to-do/episode/14273/summary.html, retrieved on January 10, 2008.
[3] Kittel, Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, volume II, page 195.
[4] Ibid, page 198.
[5] This version of the Psalm is found in the Presbyterian Church Book of Worship.
[6] Not all scholars agree that the assembly heard the words of the Lord. But because Matthew’s gospel says, “This is my Son” instead of “You are my Son,” I am inclined to side with the scholars that say everyone heard the words. On the other side, I believe only Jesus saw the Spirit come based on the pronouns used in Matthew’s gospel, “…the heavens open to him and he saw the Spirit…”
[7] Pinsky, Mark, “The Gospel According to the Simpsons.” 2nd Edition. Louisville, Westminster—John Knox Press, 2007. Study guide for the first edition is also available.
[8] The Simpsons, Lisa’s First Word, Season 4, Episode 10
[9] Kittel, page 198

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Love Rains-Love Reigns

This sermon was presented at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on a rainy Sunday December 9, 2007, the second Sunday in Advent.

Isaiah 11:1-10
Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19
Romans 15:4-13
Matthew 3:1-12
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

I love the rain. I love to sit and watch it as it falls from the skies; listen to it as it hits the rooftops. As a little boy, our neighborhood didn’t have storm drains, it had ditches between the road and the sidewalk, and in the heavy thunderstorms I would watch them flood.[1] The ditches would begin by having some water in them and all of a sudden, a wall of water would roll and they would be filled to overflowing. There was a sense of awe as the majestic torrent of water rolled down the slope of the hill from our house toward the neighbor’s and beyond.

Our Call to Worship carries this image of majestic rain:

He shall live as long as the sun and moon endure,
from one generation to another
He shall come down like rain upon the mown field,
like showers that water the earth.
Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel,
who alone does wondrous deeds!
And blessed be God’s glorious name forever![2]

The Lord God comes like the rain upon the mown field, draping it with the moisture and nourishment it needs for life.

In the water there is birth, and in the water there is rebirth. In the water there is life and in the water there is death. In the water there is the warmth of being washed and in the water there is the peril of being washed away.

Our Call to Worship reminds us that the Lord God shall come down like rain upon the mown field, like showers that water the earth. Last week’s gospel reading reminds us that in the time of Noah the Lord God lifted the waters which wiped away nearly all of creation. And in these waters we find John the Baptist.

In the gospel, we find John coming from the wilderness to the Jordan crying his mission, his vocation, “Prepare the way of the Lord. Make his paths straight.”

John comes as a modern day Elijah. Nearly 900 years after the sudden departure of the prophet in the wilderness, John comes from the wilderness proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

As Elijah before him, John comes with a new way of looking at the world, a world that he comes to like no one has seen in an eon. John comes in a shirt woven of coarse camel’s hair, tied with a leather belt, and eating the foods of the poorest of the desert people, locusts and wild honey. There is nothing refined about him. He comes undeniably like thunder from a lightning bolt that strikes across the street. His message, his mission, his vocation is a radical turning from the ways of old and will not be denied, “Prepare the way of the Lord.”

A crowd comes to him, some of whom have come because of this radical message, some of whom have come because of his outrageous spectacle. He welcomes all who come, but some he welcomes with joy, others he greets with a rebuke; “You brood of vipers. Who warned you?”

His warning gets even more dire as he instructs, he warns his listeners to bear fruit worthy of repentance, or suffer the consequences. “Beware,” he says, “the ax is lying at the root of trees so every tree that does not bear good fruit and cast into the fire.”

John warns us as we enter his sanctuary in the wild to take the bath he is offering to beware. The Lord, the one who initiates this washing, will clear the threshing floor. The good grain, the fruit of the land nourished by the water and the soil will be separated from what remains. The grain will be sent to the barns, the chaff burned in the unquenchable fire.

Our identity as Christians depends on the story of the Gospel. The Gospel is the best, most authoritative way that we have of knowing who the Lord is in the history of the Christian community then and now. The Gospel gives us the story of who Christ is and who we are in Christ. And the word of God gives us a common story of the vision, the rituals, and the symbols of our life together.[3] In this, the story of Matthew’s story of John shows how we are introduced to the community and how Jesus welcomes us to the community.

The most important ritual we practice for welcoming a new member to the community of Christ is baptism. The most important ritual we who have been baptized can practice is remembering our baptism. In this, we remember who we are as the assembled body of Christ in the church. Through this remembrance, the church shapes us.

Peter Bower says, “Throughout history, the place of baptism has been regarded as a bath by which we are cleansed of sin, a womb from which we are reborn, a tomb in which we are buried with Christ and from which we are raised with him.”[4]

The images of water and the font are awesome, mystical, and varied. We reaffirm our baptismal vows because baptism “is the symbol of initiation into the household of faith, a sign of cleansing from sin, and a dramatic proclamation of dying and rising with Christ. Baptism is a Christian’s ‘ordination’ to the ‘royal priesthood’ and the mark of belonging to a community of saints that extends beyond time and space. Baptism signifies the presence of the Holy Spirit working among us to comfort, strengthen, and empower us in God’s service.”[5]

In Christ, we are baptized in water, sealed by the Spirit. We are cleansed in the water and blood of Christ our King for salvation. Baptized in water we are together with Christ in the tomb and together with Christ in his rising. Baptized in water we are God’s children born of the Spirit.[6]

Baptism as practiced by Christians is a radical response to the salvation given us by grace through faith. It is a means of identifying with the birth, life, and death of Jesus Christ. It is a radical sign of identifying with the community of God as the Body of Christ. In this sign we come to identify ourselves as the people of God. It is the first sign of coming to Christ, a motion begun by Christ long before our birth.

As the Lord God comes like the rain upon the mown field, covering it with the moisture and nourishment it needs for life, the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper cover us with the moisture and nourishment we need for our lives. And today, as we remember our baptism, we as the people of God come to share the meal Jesus shared with his disciples.

This is the meal he gave the apostles and the disciples. It is the meal we celebrate when

Through the words of the prophets
the Lord promised the people the Redeemer,
and gave hope for the day
when justice shall roll down like waters,
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.[7]

As the waters introduce us to the community of the body of Christ, the supper nourishes us to do the work of the body of Christ.

The old song says,

Only love
Can bring the rain
That makes you yearn to the sky.
Only love
Can bring the rain
That falls like tears from on high.[8]

Tears fall from on high; these tears are the waters of our baptism. These are the waters John bathes us in while we are confessing our sins. These are the waters of our birth as we leave the womb, just like the fully human fully divine Jesus left the womb of his mother Mary. These are the waters of the tomb, the death and new life we come to in the water, at the cross and in the resurrection.

The love of God rains over us like the water of John’s baptism. The love of God rains over us with the glory and awe of the baptism of fire, the Holy Spirit’s coming at Pentecost. And the sovereignty of God reigns over us all as it has since the beginning. Jesus comes with the peace and love of God coming to earth to be human as we are and to be with us in community. Through this movement of the Triune God’s sovereign love; we are called to be the body of Christ in the church universal, through the love of God in the waters of our baptism, and by the power of the Holy Spirit in the baptism of fire.

Prepare the way of the Lord. Love reign o'er me.

[1] Severe thunderstorms and tornadoes do still freak me out, but a regular heavy t-storm, that can be pretty cool stuff.
[2] Office of Theology and Worship, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), The Book of Common Worship. Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993, pages 693, 694.
[3] Westerhoff, III, John, A Pilgrim People. Seabury Press: Minneapolis, 1984 in A Baptism Sourcebook. Archdiocese of Chicago, Baker, Robert J. Editor. Liturgy Training Publications: Chicago, 1993, page 156.
[4] Office of Theology and Worship, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), The Companion to the Book of Common Worship, Bower, Peter C., Editor. Geneva Press: Louisville, Kentucky, 2003, page 161.
[5] Ibid, page 155.
[6] Saward, Michael A., “Baptized in Water.” Hope Publishing: Carol Stream, Illinois, 1982.
[7] Ibid, The Book of Common Worship, page 130.
[8] Townshend, Pete, “Love Reign O’er Me,” from Quadrophenia by The Who, MCA Records, 1973.