Make a New Normal

Between — Back to John the Baptist

Between — a photo of a city street lit up at night.

A look at the gaps in the lectionary.

This week: the gap between Christmas 2A and Epiphany 1A.

The text: Matthew 3:1-12.


Most of the time, I just wish we’d read the gospel straight through. It certainly seems good to talk about the birth of Jesus at Christmas and his death and resurrection during Holy Week. But all this jumping around really messes with the story.

This week, we’re drawn back to the second week of Advent, which amounts to our attempt to begin our story before Jesus is born. So we read from chapter 3 in December as if it were chapter 1.

I hope you know that I’m not trying to be difficult or pedantic. Honestly, I genuinely like the lectionary. Nor would I suggest that most of us can’t keep up with the twists in the story.

But…

If we’re not reading these gospels straight through, we honestly don’t know what we’re missing. And, in much the same way, I worry that this kind of jumping can create a false narrative we don’t actually notice. Which, I suppose is why I started this project.

Anyway, we’re coming back to John. And because the lectionary has already introduced us to John in Advent, we don’t have to read about him a second time. Though I think we should. Because Matthew’s arc is pretty cool straight up.

We’ve spent some good time on the genealogy; Joseph, the magi, the massacre, and the flight into Egypt. This is the origin story that sets us up for the arrival of John the Baptist in chapter 3.

Fast Forward

Chapter 3 begins with the phrase “In those days,” which reminds me a little of “this one time at band camp…” It sounds like a long time ago or else last week. We’re not really sure. But it is those days and not these days so…

We’re about to find out that Jesus has grown up and is coming to John to be baptized [Oops! Spoilers!] so it is at least two decades since the middle of chapter 2. And really, we don’t know how long they were in Egypt, so it really could have been a quick turn around. But I kind of doubt it. Jesus is pretty Semitic for someone who grew up in Alexandria.

But since we’ve already heard about John and it was just about a month ago, we probably don’t need to rehash the details. We’ll just summarize the highlights:

  1. John came out of the wilderness.
  2. He totally looks like a prophet.
  3. His message is about repentance (turning).
  4. He wonders why in the world religious leaders are showing up.
  5. And tells them that the person who will follow him will be better.

The way we tell it, there’s something pretty unremarkable about John.

What’s remarkable about John

I’m struck in this context by that #4. John calls out the Pharisees and Sadducees for seeking baptism. It’s kind of weird, isn’t it? I suppose it’s a bit like priests coming to get baptized (because they’re already ordained). You know, its both a cart-before-the-horse deal and also entirely redundant.

I’m not sure that’s really it, though. That’s not where the real juice is.

He asks (after calling them snakes):

“Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”

My mind usually goes to three words:

Who: from whom did the warning come?
Warned: wait, warning? Sounds dangerous!
Wrath: danger confirmed! Does this mean that God’s pissed?

But now I’m looking at that word flee.

While I usually obsess on the question of from what are they fleeing? Today I’m thinking about John finding them at the Jordan River having already fled. To him.

The real question isn’t so much from what are they fleeing, or even really why. It’s why did they flee to John?

Fleeing the wrath to come

John is actually not at all specific about the wrath. In fact, he moves from that to what they should expect from their repentance (turning). Make good things! Don’t rely on your being from the right family of origin.

As a good word for the moment, this is particularly important to see how it challenges us: don’t think that your nationality makes you good. Don’t rely on your being Northern or Southern, Michigander or Floridian, Coastal or Midwestern, West or East, Catholic or Protestant, Christian or Atheist, White or any person of color.

But John isn’t speaking to the crowd: he’s speaking to the elites. So his message isn’t a measure of equality. He’s actually saying Don’t mistake specialness as having anything to do with your tribe. Because God is making a lot of other people special.

This has some interesting connotations to what that wrath really is. But if it is in any way connected to the dark parables Jesus tells toward the end of the gospel, then it probably is the destruction of the Temple system and their whole way of life.

So John’s warning is about power, identity, and what God really desires of the people.

“I baptize you with water for repentance”

Preparing us for the baptism of Jesus really does require us to go through these trials, I think.

Now try to hear John’s attempt at subordination in verse 14 in this context. He’s just pushed back at the Temple leaders for thinking the old rules will always apply. Now we must have this dance around the rule of who should be doing the baptizing.

The easy answer is that Jesus needs to subordinate himself to the rules. Which, given who Jesus is, kind of sounds like a best practice more than a rule. Like a police officer can get away with speeding, but unless there is an emergency, they should probably just go with the flow. This squabble seems that stupid.

I need you to baptize me.
No, I need you to baptize me.
But you should baptize me!
OK, I will baptize you, but it should be you who baptizes me!
Yes, but the rules say I have to be baptized by somebody!
Fine! I’ll baptize you but I’m not going to like it!
Neither will I, but those are the rules!
Fine!
Fine!

{dunk}
There. You’re done. Cross that off your to-do list.

And to be honest, I’m not entirely sure this squabble isn’t at least sort-of the point.

The author of Mark’s gospel takes great pains to humiliate the disciples; to humanize them; to show them as failingly normal. The point is that they are constantly our way into the gospel story. Peter is the everyman so that every person can be Peter.

I’m not sure that Matthew does this the same way, but I like to read that here. In part because John will be so disappointed in the end. He’s skeptical. Which is funny, because his critique of the Pharisees and Sadducees fleeing is so spot on.

When he is confronted with the rules, power, and the grace of God, he succumbs to the established norms. Oh, jeez, Jesus! I can’t do that for you! I’m just a nobody! The dude who five minutes ago was spitting fire.

The New Moses

The Jewishness obsession in Matthew’s gospel and his constant appeals to justification through scripture play like a broken record. But I think it helps tame our distractibility and help us focus. The image in the first part of the gospel revealing Jesus as the new Moses is both striking and illustrative. But we don’t stay with that only. As if the allusion is the point.

We don’t care if Jesus is Moses 2.0. We’re focused on what Moses can tell us about Jesus. And even that can miss the point.

The true fundamental beauty of the Moses story was that even though he was the central hero of the founding myth of the Hebrew people, his story constantly served to highlight the grace of God. The story isn’t even how good a conduit for God is Moses. It’s what is God up to! We can see that through Moses.

And what we’re going to see is a message about turning, transforming, and becoming bigger than before. We’re going to keep the old ways; the customs and traditions that still speak. But we’re going to expand our understanding of everything.

So, given all that, can the guy God has called to dunk people get to dunking Jesus already? We have a lot yet to do.