NRSLuke 3
15As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16John 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 thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.17His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
21Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened,22and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."
May the blessing of Almighty God rest and remain upon you always, for the sake of Jesus the Messiah. Amen.
When I was a kid my parents would sometimes take me, my brother and sister out for a celebration meal, not so often as we go out these days, but often enough that we knew it was a big deal. Our favorite special night out restaurant was Don’s, down on Airline Highway. I can remember the excitement of being seated, then being handed that huge menu, and then having to choose. I’d look at what other people were eating, I’d ask my brother and sister what they were getting, I’d entertain suggestions from mom and dad, and then I’d have to choose. The sights, sounds, and aromas of all that good food made me want to choose everything, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Finally, I would decide, and when later the food arrived at the table I would instantly start to second guess my choice. “Ooh, I should have gotten this, or look how much I could have had if I’d gotten that.”
That’s the thing about choices. Once you commit, you’re kind of, sort of, well, stuck. You can send your food back to the kitchen and order something else, but there’s a price for that. Then, too, there’s also a price to be paid for sticking by your decision and following through on your original choice.
At one time or another in our lives I’m guessing we’ve all said to ourselves, “I want to keep my options open.” It’s usually a good idea. We don’t want to commit too early to anything without first investigating what all our choices may be, whether we’re talking about committing ourselves to an education, a career, or for that matter, a spouse. But sooner or later either we make a decision, or decisions get made for us. As those life decisions accumulate, the possibilities of life inevitably begin to diminish. Choosing option A typically means saying goodbye to options B, C, and D. But a life a sheer possibility is finally empty. A person who tries to keep all his options always open ends up more a ghost and less a real human being. Only as we commit ourselves – whether to people or places, things or causes – only then do our lives begin to have meaning.
When I consider the Baptism of Our Lord, I get this image in my mind of Jesus wading into the River Jordan surrounded by these throngs of people who have come out to John. In Luke’s telling of the baptismal story, the actual baptism happens sort of off stage. Unlike Matthew, Luke gives no indication that John recognized Jesus, or that Jesus and John had any kind of personal interchange. I get the impression that even the descent of the dove and the voice from heaven were for Jesus’ eyes and ears only. But there he is, alone in a crowd, casting his lot with the very sinners John upbraids as a brood of vipers. Whatever Jesus might have done with his life, however he might have exercised his options, Jesus chooses us. In a whole universe of possibility, he immerses himself in our fallen humanity. Without a doubt, he could have seized on his unique status before God as something to be exploited (Philippians 2: 6), but instead he pulls up a chair to sit alongside us, to share our meal of bread and tears, and forego whatever glorious possibilities that were his to take.
Think about that for a moment. Here’s Jesus, “the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God,” and he moves into our neighborhood. He could be watching the game from the comfort of a luxury box, well above the riff raff down below, but instead he gives up his ticket to take a place in the cheap seats with us. He has the whole menu to choose from, but hands it back to the wait person unopened, saying, “I’ll have what they’re having.” That’s staggering.
Even more staggering, though, is the commitment God is making to us in Jesus. Several times in the book of Genesis we hear how God repented of ever having made humankind. Given the hope God invested in humanity and the headaches the Lord received in return, we can understand God’s remorse. The Bible makes it easy for us to imagine God wondering, “What was I thinking when I made these sorry creatures? I made them to live in love, and they insist on hating. What can I do?” In the story of Noah and the flood we get a glimpse of just how close God comes to wiping the slate clean and starting over. But far stronger than God’s will to destroy is God’s will to keep faith. In some ways the God of the Bible is a crotchety, stubborn, hard-headed God who will not give up on us no matter how much we deserve it. God will not abandon God’s own creation. God will not let go. God will not throw in the towel. God will not walk away and leave us to drown in the sea of our own sin.
That’s what I hear in the divine affirmation that comes to Jesus in the wake of his baptism, “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased” (Luke 3: 21). It could be that God wanted to make a point about Jesus’ divine Sonship as the Second Person of the Holy Trinity. I couldn’t agree more, but maybe the more immediate point is that God is one with Jesus in his commitment to the world. As Jesus plunges into the waters of the Jordan, God the maker of heaven and earth goes right in with him. The very Lord of sea and sky holds nothing back, but in, with, and through Jesus, commits the whole being of God to renewing and remaking all creation into the divine image for which it was originally meant.
I think this is a message of incredible hope. God is, in poker parlance, all in. God holds nothing back, even to the point of surrendering the only Son into our sinful hands. And if God is completely committed to you, me, and this creation, then how can I, or you, be anything less? We fret over keeping our options open, but God has withheld nothing from the health and healing of this world. How can we sit on the sidelines while Jesus goes to the cross?
Whether the issue is climate change, or gun violence, or the specter of nuclear terrorism, the problems we face are daunting, so daunting we may simply want to throw our hands up and walk away. I get that. I understand. The world is too much with us. Leave it to somebody else. Give up. But God hasn’t, and neither can we.
In the Name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
