The Baptism of Jesus is the beginning of the story. And it reminds us of the central theme of the gospel is new life.
Baptism as Beginning
Epiphany 1C | Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
The First Epiphany
A long, long time ago, before the followers of Jesus accepted the term Christian to describe themselves, three principal feasts were developing.
The biggest, and most important one celebrated the Resurrection of Jesus. It was obviously going to be the king of all holy days. I mean, look at it. How do you beat “God raised him from the dead?” It was always going to be the centerpiece of the story.
Around it, two other feasts developed that fit neatly into that story. One of those was Pentecost, which celebrates what the Holy Spirit was doing with those who know the risen Christ. But the other one, the first part, is known as Epiphany.
Predating Christmas, Epiphany originally marked the beginning of the story. Not with the birth of Jesus, but the manifestation. For those in the East, this is expressed best in the baptism.
And it was this movement that offered the arc of the Jesus Event in light of how those followers could see themselves as part of this thing.
The ministry of Jesus begins with baptism, climaxes in the resurrection, and is bestowed upon the people in Pentecost.
The West took it in a different direction.
The Roman church adopted Epiphany but changed its focus to the visit by the Wisemen. In this, they also changed the meaning of the day for their part of the church. It was no longer marking the beginning of Jesus’s earthly ministry, but the birth of a global mission.
Our church calendar comes through the Western tradition, so we celebrate Epiphany on January 6 and the Baptism on the first Sunday after that.
I like to remind us of this history, not only because I love airing the church’s dirty laundry. But because it reveals the challenge of that very ministry. We are all doing our best, aren’t we? Of course, we are following the example of people who were doing their best. And they followed others doing their best. And so on.
Easy is not the word.
But I also want to show how the message of the holy day is really quite muddled after seventeen hundred years.
That first story, though. That one is beautiful.
The Baptism as beginning
We love Christmas. Because it’s awesome! But also because we know that it is the season we celebrate the savior coming into the world.
It’s the origin story. It sets the stage for everything that follows. And that is a blank slate.
Ask people the best book or movie, it’s always the first one. Except that Empire Strikes Back is clearly the best Star Wars. And the third Harry Potter may be the best. But otherwise we love the origin story.
But for us, the birth may not be the best true beginning. In the Baptism of Our Lord, we have a slightly different idea that requires a different way of looking at it.
In the gospels of Mark and John, this is Jesus’s origin story. Because it is the origin of his ministry. It is the moment when it begins. So it isn’t about where Jesus begins, but where Christ begins.
And Christ begins in the river, being baptized by John the Baptizer, the Holy Spirit descending upon him in the form of a dove, and the voice of God declaring him as beloved.
In the Flesh
Each gospel tells it a little differently, but let us stop before the witness of Luke for a moment. For it says:
“…the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.”
The Spirit was physically manifest in the moment. She is Sacramental. An “outward and visible sign of inward and spiritual grace, given by Christ as sure and certain means by which we receive that grace.”
Tangible, manifest, present.
A grace that was assured, but became known by its witness.
It doesn’t matter who Jesus thought he was. He is different now.
Baptism is Death. And Life.
The earliest known church buildings date from around the third century. And one of the curious artifacts in many of these places of worship is the presence of their baptismal fonts.
Like ours, the font is permanently in the space, symbolically reminding the congregation of their new lives in baptism.
Unlike ours, many were shaped like a sarcophagus, a tomb, a place to bury the dead.
And they would fill them with water, lay people of all ages into the water to symbolically drown, to die to themselves and be reborn when they come out of the water. Changed.
I imagine parents baptizing their children. Saying “You are dead.” Then “You are now alive.”
The central image of our faith is not the preservation of life.
It is restoring life to the dead.
We see this in the parable of the lost sons. The one in which the father welcomes home the son who was dead. But see, he is alive!
We see it also in John 11 with the resurrection of Lazarus. The point isn’t that Jesus could save Lazarus’s life. It is that Lazarus died and was raised.
Yes, we fear death and grieve the dead. But we are a people of new life.
New Life in an Old World
On this Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord, we are reminded to remember our baptism. For those who are baptized, it is a time to remember and engage with the new life Jesus has promised. For those who have not been baptized, it is an opportunity to see what this feels like and consider it for themselves.
We must be reminded that we already are different. That we are marked as Christ’s own forever. That God has already spoken and said to each of us
“You are my child, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Remember that we have already been invited. We have already begun lives of service. And all of this is pleasing.
And yet, at the same time…
We are not perfect. Our work is not done. The systems of our world aren’t completely just. Our way of gathering into neighborhoods is unequal. And our communities aren’t the incredible embodiment of gracious love.
We’re learning. Changing. Becoming.
And because of this constant evolving, we can keep bringing new life into this old world. Not perfectly: but graciously and lovingly. Until everything is new.