Luke 3.15-17, 21-22
John’s preaching about the coming Mighty One is incendiary. “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire…the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” That image can’t help but turn our hearts and minds to the fires in and around Los Angeles. ‘Unquenchable’ sounds about right. Any question about where God is in and through all the anguish needs to be asked, much like the opening chapter of Job where a fire devours everything Job had and then led him to contend with God: questioning, lamenting, doubting.
Yet the fire that John preaches about, and The One who will baptize with the fiery Holy Spirit, is not a fire meant to destroy but to cleanse and purify. The Old Testament ends with the prophet Malachi waiting for the day when God will purify the people like gold refined in fire; the New Testament then begins with John preaching about that fire, a refining fire. Jesus is the Mighty One that John preaches about. At his baptism, as Jesus prays, the heavens are opened, the Spirit descends in bodily form, and a voice from heaven speaks. This is God’s way of saying to the world: ‘Here is the Coming One; here he is.’
This is an epiphany in every sense of the word, an ‘Aha moment’ of clarity as Jesus takes his first faithful steps into public life and ministry. Only twice in the Gospel of Luke does God the Father speak directly from heaven: here today and then again later at his transfiguration. Both times the message is the same. “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And as the voice of delight speaks, a confluence of streams of thought from the Old Testament form a single focus on Jesus—who he is and what he means for us and for the world. Everything Jesus did in his ministry and life was in service to others. “The Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve.” That serving begins with his first public act, his baptism.
One of those streams comes from the prophet Isaiah. Call it the ‘opened heavens stream.’ Isaiah looks forward to a day when God will act definitively to set right a world gone off the rails. “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence!” This is Isaiah 64. Isaiah sees how the world is in need and needs God to act, not least when he says late in that same chapter, “Our holy and beautiful house where our ancestors praised you has been burned by fire. And all our pleasant places have become ruins.” Timely words, both then and now. So Isaiah looks for the power and presence of God to come to the world and to us. Who hasn’t, at one time or another, longed for a clear demonstration that God is God for us? ‘If you created me, show me that you care for me. If you are a God who is forgiving, restore me to your grace and love.’ “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down.” The heavens opened over Jesus at his baptism reveal him as the power and presence of God come to the world. The first stream is the ‘opened heavens stream.’
The second stream flowing toward Jesus is the ‘Spirit stream.’ Here again, the headwaters are in Isaiah. The prophet tells of a Servant of God who will be known for wisdom, for the ability to translate words into action, and a readiness to deal definitively with evil—all in devotion to God and in loyal love to the world. Of this servant, Isaiah says, “The Spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding.” At Jesus’ baptism, “The Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.” Yet note how this promised Spirit comes to Jesus: bodily, like a dove. This is significant because it shows from the start of Jesus’ public ministry what God is like.
Of the Spirit’s presence as a dove, Dale Bruner says, this “should have world-historical significance.” The Spirit does not come like an eagle, lion, or tiger but a dove. Bruner: “When the church grasps even a portion of the gospel’s dovelike message—theologically (the humility of God, grace) and ethically (gentleness, nonviolence)—the church will be in a stronger position than she now is under a frequently nationalist and so inevitably militaristic spirit.” Bruner’s words from twenty years ago are still timely. For Noah in Genesis, the dove was the harbinger of peace; in the Song of Solomon, an image of beauty; and all through the Old Testament, an offering for sacrifice. Beauty, peace, and sacrifice are the heart of Jesus’ life for us—his wisdom, his deeds, his cross. This is revealed at Jesus’ baptism. “The Spirit descended upon Jesus in bodily form like a dove.”
The ‘opened heavens stream’ and the ‘Spirit as dove stream’ are met by a third stream flowing toward Jesus. Call this the ‘Son of God’ stream. About Jesus at his baptism the voice from heaven says, “You are my Son.” That declaration is first heard in one of the psalms, Psalm 2. In that psalm, a king is enthroned on Mount Zion. This enthronement takes place at a time of great national distress and intense personal conflict. “Why are the nations in an uproar?” asks the psalm. “Why do people mutter empty threats?” Whatever prompted that psalm to be written then, it is also a timely word. Why are the nations in an uproar? Why do people mutter empty threats? From wars to politics to personal interactions, why is there so much anger? Yet God’s response to human bluster is not to match it with heavenly bluster but to establish a different way altogether. Where will we find hope and strength? “I myself have set my king upon my holy hill of Zion…You are my Son.”
This psalm, and the meaning of Jesus’ life for us, help us keep politics and empty threats in proper perspective. God holds the plotting of nations in derision, says the psalm—laughs. As for us? It wouldn’t hurt to tape Psalm 2 to the back of our phones or on our computer screens or right next to any place we get the news. Who holds us secure in distressing and uncertain times? The confluence of the ‘opened heavens stream,’ the ‘Spirit as dove stream,’ and the ‘Son of God’ stream, flow to Jesus at his baptism. “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Here is God saying in so many words, ‘In this One is everything I want to say, reveal, and do; everything I want people to hear, see, and believe.’
No wonder the people were filled with expectation, as the Gospel of Luke describes; no wonder all the people were baptized to receive a share in the life of God. Because the grace and truth heard in the voice of God the Father, with the descent of the Spirit at Jesus’ baptism, is given to us in our baptism. This sacrament is an immersion in the person and work of God, both cleansing and purifying. “He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins,” says Colossians. Jesus’ baptism, then, not only sets out the shape of his life and ministry, when we are baptized into Christ, baptism shapes our life, too.
Today, as we commemorate the baptism of Jesus, we will shortly renew our own baptism; will again say yes to the dove-powered truth of our life. The questions that we will be asked aren’t particularly fancy, but they are particularly important. Will you continue to have your life shaped by scripture and worship? Will you resist evil and when you fail, as you will, to turn and return to God? Will you express the love of God in word and deed and respect the dignity of every human being? Maybe this above all—loving those around you and respecting their dignity, not least the ones we disagree with or may not find respectable or loveable—maybe this is the greatest gift for dove-powered Christians to provide what is needed in a world of uproar and empty threats. Not that it makes it easy, as anyone who has ever tried to follow Jesus’ command to love their enemies knows. It’s not easy; but it is essential.
Bruner again, “The remarkable [work] of the Spirit is to nuance strength, to modulate power, and to deliver what is deeply needed in common and public life—the way of gentleness.” Baptism immerses us in the truth and work of God in our life so that we can respond with practical, simple obedience in everyday life. And as we say ‘Yes’ to what baptism means for us, the answer to each of the questions asked is, “I will, with God’s help.” ‘Yes,’ we are saying, ‘This is the life I will continue to live with God’s help.’ With God’s help. We are not called to a life of faith then left to fend for ourselves. With God’s help. St Paul in Philippians, “God is at work in you enabling you to will and work for God’s own pleasure.” With God’s help. But more than mere assistance, this is very God in whom we live and move and have our being.
As Jesus comes up out of the waters of baptism, he lifts us up with him into the life he gives—the opened heaven stream, the Spirit-filled and dove-powered stream, and you as God’s beloved child. All of this flows from Jesus’ baptism and the waters of your own baptism as you are made clean and purified, given a strength not your own, and assured that God has come to you. You are joined to the life of God the Father’s well-beloved Son with the indwelling Holy Spirit—peace, beauty, and sacrifice for the good of others and for the glory of God.
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