Epiphany 1 (The Baptism of the Lord)

And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove. . .

On the Feast of Christmas, the heavens opened, and Angels came to those Shepherds, with a message and a song. But on the Feast of the Baptism of our Lord, we aren’t told that the heavens just opened, we are literally told that they were TORN OPEN when the Holy Spirit descended like a dove!

The Greek in our Gospel this morning is absolutely clear: the word is Schizomai. Can you hear the sound in that word?  SCHIZOMAI!  It literally means to TEAR APART. When you open the sky, it means it COULD be closed again, but when you RIP OPEN the sky, it’s forever!

Prior to the events in our Gospel today, I picture Jesus standing back and watching. . . maybe for days. Watching throngs of people going down to be washed at the hands of John; people desperate for the presence of God in their lives.

Jesus is looking at the Jordan river. . . that Jordan river of deliverance. As he stands there watching all those longing people, what was running through his mind? Could he be remembering how Joshua had led the people across that very river to the promised land? I think it’s very possible that he was.

I also think he longed so much to show them that the sky was about to be ripped open, and that the Spirit of God was about to anoint humanity such that every living soul, whether they were saint or sinner, good or bad, rich or poor, chosen or not. . . they were about to be adopted as children of God!

One of the Eastern Orthodox churches holds to a tradition that when two people are baptized in the same font of water, they actually become siblings. . . brothers and sisters in God.  

Now as extreme as that may sound to our Western ears, I think it reflects an understanding that something happens when you stand in water with another person; there’s a kind of solidarity that takes place, and I believe that’s what Jesus wants more than anything else. . . to form a solidarity with his people. 

We no longer need to peer at him in the manger because he has stepped into our water and, dare I say, into the chaos of our lives.

Sam Houston, the founder of the State of Texas, was baptized and joined the church at the age of 60.  He was baptized in the river, as was the custom in his church, and he wrote a friend about the incident:  

They told me that when I was baptized my sins were washed away.  If that is so, Houston wrote, I pity those poor souls living downstream.

Sometimes I feel like I’m always wading in downstream waters. That’s when I need to remember that Jesus purposely stepped in downstream because that’s where the people were standing.

Rivers are a lot like life. . . sometimes muddy, sometimes calm, sometimes clear and direct, and sometimes chaotic and almost boundless.

Jesus didn’t try to clear the murkiness of the water or change the direction of its flow; no, he simply stepped in. He stepped in for you and for me.

When God’s spirit hovered over creation, in the beginning, God brought order to chaos; he didn’t end it. God brings order to the disarray by diving into the disarray.

A little boy went to church camp and was a little leery about swimming in the lake.  The youth minister addressed all the young campers and said, Now when you go swimming, you’ll all have a swimming buddy. Stay close to your buddy, and if you separate from your buddy, hold your hand up high so you can get back together.

Then he asked them, Now does anyone know what a swimming buddy is for?

And the little boy answered, Sure, it’s somebody you drown with.

Jesus didn’t stand on the edge of the Jordan and shout advice. He took the plunge. . . he went knee deep with us. He was willing to drown with us in our old life, so that he could raise us to new life by making us his brothers and sisters. 

On this, the feast of the Baptism of our Lord, can you hear the sky being torn open? Can you hear the voice whispering in your ear? You are my beloved child; I am pleased with you.

I was very afraid of the water when I was a young boy.  Most of my friends swam much earlier than I. But I remember someone once telling me that nobody really knows how to swim; they only know how to let the water hold them up.

Well, as it turns out, Christians don’t really know how to make it through the mud and chaos of life by themselves, they learn how to let Christ hold them up through it all!

Because of the Baptism of our Lord, we should never fear the water and chaos of life. Because Jesus took the plunge, we’ll always have someone to drown with us, and lucky for us, Jesus is a swimming buddy who knows something about resurrection as well.