Matt. 3:13-17; Rom. 6
January 8, 2017
Baptism of Our Lord-A
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
Christmas is over. All twelve days have come and gone. The nativity is history. From my perspective as a pastor, Christmas always arrives too soon . . .and then disappears too soon, as well. Sometimes it seems like I missed it. But it’s my
We rarely see the significance of events while they are happening. Whether you’re standing at the altar preparing to say, “I do,” or kneeling at the altar for the Lord’s Supper, or singing “Silent Night” by candlelight, we rarely recognize those extraordinary moments while those extraordinary moments are happening. Only later—only in retrospect—do we begin to see what we missed at first.
The Baptism of Jesus is like that. Looking back today, soaking up all that the Scriptures tell us about this event on the banks of the Jordan River, we can easily see how extraordinarily rich with meaning it is. Here Jesus takes the first steps of His public ministry. Here He begins to identify with sinners like us. Here the heavens are opened. Here His identity as the eternal Son of God is enunciated clearly by the Father’s voice from heaven. Here all three persons of the Holy Trinity make a joint appearance as the Holy Spirit descends like a dove. Here God is at work to show us what a grand and glorious thing baptism is. Looking back now, we see that and celebrate that. We teach that and preach that and believe that about the Baptism of Our Lord.
But, as it was unfolding, as it was actually happening in real time—well, it was messy. It was awkward and unexpected. Things did not play out according to the script by which John had been operating. John had been preaching a Jesus who would burn the chaff with unquenchable fire—a Jesus whose sandals John wasn’t even worthy to stoop down and untie—a Jesus whose axe was razor-sharp and ready to cut down every tree that did not produce good fruit. And then Jesus showed up at the Jordan one day—an ordinary-looking guy from Galilee, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with sinners, seeking a sinners’ baptism. John wanted nothing to do with it. John objected. All the color must have drained from John’s face as Jesus stated plainly, “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” It wasn’t nice and neat and well-orchestrated. Nobody (except for Jesus) truly saw the incredible, extraordinary, eternal significance of that moment.
The same thing is true where your own baptism is concerned. As it was happening, no one could truly see and believe the marvelous miracle that was unfolding. No one could see the Holy Spirit making your body His temple. No one could see that you were being born again. I’ve done enough baptisms to know what’s really going on in the minds of those who gather around the font: hoping that the baby doesn’t start screaming, wondering whether the diaper will stay dry, and trying to remember where to stand and what to say. Most baptisms are just as messy and just as awkward as was the baptism of Jesus by John. And to top it all off, if you were baptized as an infant, you don’t even remember it! That moment—the event of your own baptism into Christ—you can’t recall it no matter how hard you try. We rarely see the extraordinary importance of events while they are happening—including your own baptism.
Your enemy uses that fact to his advantage. Satan works hard to keep the extraordinary details of your baptism buried deep down in the pages of your life’s history. He wants to minimize, reduce and abbreviate whatever significance you attach to your baptism. He’s hoping that you’ll forget (or never take to heart) how that splash of water and the Word transformed you forever—how in that moment you were born again—that then and there God made you dead to sin but alive to Him in Christ Jesus. The devil hates those details. The devil is ever-so-diligent in deadening you to the glorious truth of what your baptism means—that you are now God’s own child, called not to continue in sin, but to turn from it in faith and repentance—to walk in newness of life.
For what is true of the grand and glorious moments of our lives is also true of our worst moments—our most sinful moments: We do not see the significance of our sins while we are sinning. In fact, while we are sinning, our minds are filled with justifications and rationalizations and perfectly crafted excuses. Only later on—only after our transgressions have transpired—only as Satan’s awful accusations begin to rain down upon us—do we begin to realize the wretched reality we have wrought. Our conscience is crushed as our sin sinks in. But precisely then, when the enemy whispers, “You’re no child of God. You’re not holy. How can you call yourself a Christian?,” when all you can do is admit the worst about yourself—precisely then you can draw upon the most extraordinary, significant, miraculous event that ever happened to you. Fully, freely, joyfully you can declare, “I am baptized.”
Jesus came for sinners—to redeem sinners. He came for sick and broken people. As the Prophet Isaiah looked ahead to the coming of the Christ, he wrote, “a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not snuff out.” In the ancient world a bruised reed was a rather useless thing. A modern equivalent might be a pen that has run out of ink. What’s left to do with such a pen but throw it away? Likewise in the ancient world a smoldering wick was a rather useless thing. A smoldering wick meant that the darkness was soon to descend upon you. A modern equivalent might be a burned-out light bulb. What’s left to do with a burned-out bulb but throw it away? But Jesus, the Servant of the Lord, He won’t do it. A bruised reed He will not break. A faintly burning wick He will not snuff out. He comes not to condemn sinners, but to stand with them shoulder-to-shoulder. He comes to bear your sins—to suffer for your sins—to be your sacred substitute in the face of God’s righteous wrath.
We rarely see the extraordinary significance of events while they are happening. Never was that more true than on Good Friday when Jesus was crucified as a common criminal. In real time He appeared to be a good man who just happened to get on the wrong side of powerful people. He appeared to be a miracle-worker who died for what He believed in. But looking back, we know better. For our eyes have been opened by the power of our baptism. We can see clearly. This is God’s beloved Son! The death He died—He died for you. The sins that condemned Him that day were your sins. And this awful assignment as your sin-bearing substitute—Jesus undertook it willingly and freely for your sake. And the acceptance of this assignment—His first steps to save you—were taken on the muddy banks of the Jordan River. There He began to fulfill all righteousness . . . to make you righteous. That was a gift you received in your own baptism.
We rarely see the significance of events while they are happening—even here in the divine service. Here—in real time—things just don’t seem very practical or efficient. Sermons seem like such an old-fashioned way to communicate. Confessing our sins doesn’t seem like the path to holiness. The music isn’t what’s popular or trending at the top of the charts. The Holy Supper of our Lord’s body and blood doesn’t seem all that holy at the time, but meager and insignificant. But your eyes have been opened wide in baptism. Through the lenses of faith you can see things as they really are. You know that right here the gifts of heaven come to earth—that angels tend this altar and this pulpit—that Jesus Himself comes here in the flesh to give you life that lasts forever.
In this New Year, God grant us the ability to see God’s blessings as they come—as they are happening—in real time—with no worries about tomorrow and no regrets about yesterday. God grant us to see our family members as gifts from God, not just while the Christmas tree is up, but also on Monday mornings at 7:30 or whenever challenges seem to loom the largest. God grant us to see the space between these four walls as sacred space, where God is at work in real time, deserving every ounce of reverence and all the awe we can muster.
You are baptized. And that baptism is everything. It tells you who you are. It tells you whose you are. And it becomes more meaningful with every passing year. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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