This is the first sermon I preached as the pastor of San Marcos Lutheran Church. It includes my go-to audience participation re: baptism, which you, dear reader, have probably seen more than once.
With a week like the one we’ve all just had, I don’t need to work too hard to conjure images of water for you as we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus. Our dear coastal desert was inundated with rainfall this week, and while none of the clouds opened for the voice of God to proclaim anything, it still felt fairly cosmic. I saw a few rainbows while out and about, which reminded me, as it did Noah, of the promises of God’s faithfulness.
Each year, on this first Sunday after the Epiphany, we commemorate that faithfulness as we read the story of the Baptism of Jesus. This occasion is the first story we have of Jesus as an adult. We are done celebrating his birth, and are moving right along.
Jesus is about to begin his public ministry, and wants to begin well. Luckily, he knows just the man for the job. If you need to be baptized, you go see John the Baptizer.
As we are gathered here this morning to celebrate the Baptism of Jesus, we may actually have varying understandings of the purpose or effect of baptism, and may wonder why Jesus needed to be baptized in the first place.
If baptism is simply a cleansing of sin, why would the Son of God need that? If it’s an “initiation rite” into the family of God, why would the Son of God need that?
Since we see baptism as an outward sign of the grace of God—as a fresh start, a new beginning, a clean slate, a change of perspective, a starting place—Jesus’s baptism sets the stage for our own. Jesus was baptized and lived in order to show us the way to live. God claimed Jesus as beloved in his baptism, just as God claims us as beloved in ours.
Our scripture for today shows us the immensity of these promises, the breadth and depth of God’s power to, as Isaiah prophesied, create the heavens and stretch them out, to spread out the earth and what comes from it, to give breath to the people upon it and spirit to those who walk in it. The psalmist reminds us of God’s glorious strength in fire and thunder and wilderness-rattling majesty. Simultaneously, God is as close as baptismal water on our very skin. In the silence of our hearts, God calls us beloved. Truths are told and promises are made.
If I could have a quick show of hands, how many of you have you been to a baptism? Like, sat in the pews while someone was being baptized? Or maybe sponsored a friend or family member for baptism?
Okay, so, those of you who raised your hands, do you remember the promises you made with regard to that newly-baptized person? Don’t worry if you can’t rattle them off, I came prepared.
In the baptismal liturgy, if you were a baptismal sponsor, you promised to “nurture these persons in the Christian faith as you are empowered by God’s Spirit, and to help them live in the covenant of baptism and in communion with the church”. If you were in the pews, you promised to “support these persons and pray for them in their new life in Christ”. You also renounced “the devil and all the forces that defy God” as well as “the powers of the world that rebel against God” and “the ways of sin that draw you from God” [ELW Baptismal Liturgy, beginning on p 227].
If you yourself were baptized, these promises—or similar ones, depending on the denomination into which you were baptized—were made by those who witnessed it. From our own lives all the way back through centuries of tradition to the Baptism of our Lord, belovedness has been affirmed and promises have been made. Communities of people in mutual support have been forged through generations of baptismal vows.
And every baptismal event is an opportunity to affirm yours! Believe me when I tell you that you are beloved, dear ones. There is nothing that separates you from the love of God, no matter what anyone may have ever told you to the contrary. There is, perhaps, not a booming voice from the clouds at each of our baptisms, but God is, nonetheless, pleased.
In times of transition, we can sometimes be overwhelmed by change, and lose track of ourselves. We can be so concerned with making it to the place we’re going that we forget where we began, or who we were when we began. If a relationship ends, or a loved one dies, or we lose a job, or we move to a new place, or we receive a life-changing diagnosis, we can feel untethered from our identity. Who we were was always somewhat dependent on our relationships to those other people and realities, and we can have a hard time remembering where we end and the rest of the world begins.
This is one of the reasons why baptism is so important. It is always a place we can return to understand who we truly are. Beloved children of God. First and foremost, every time.
When we’re not sure what else we are, we can know that truth. When we feel lost in other ways, we can be certain of the love of God. Each and every one of you is created in God’s image, loved and cherished from the beginning of your life till its end.
We can come together as a community, the Body of Christ, and remind one another of that belovedness. When I forget, you can remind me. When you forget, I’ll remind you. When another forgets, we’ll remind them together. That’s why we’re here. We’re here to carry each other’s burdens, celebrate each other’s joys, grieve each other’s losses, and witness each other’s baptisms. It’s simple enough.
We’ll pray over the water, and over the wine, and over the bread; we’ll remember, we’ll eat, we’ll drink. We’ll do all of this because Jesus showed us the way. He showed up to the water’s edge and was baptized so that we could one day come to the font. He broke bread and poured wine so that we could one day come to the table. He preached the good news so that we could one day hear it, believe it, and share it. He lived, died, and lived again so that we, too, could live.
Thanks be to God. Amen.