Water quality
Commentary
We once lived in a parsonage that was supplied with water from a well on the property. The quality of the water was atrocious. It reeked of a sickening odor. It stained our clothes when we washed with it. It left a yellowish smear on the bathroom fixtures. The congregational council was kind enough to supply us with special drinking water that arrived every two weeks in large jugs. At least we did not have to drink the foul well water.
Water is essential to our lives. However, water comes in all qualities, and our society shows an increasing concern for the quality of the water we drink. Bottled water has become a fad because, supposedly, it is purer than tap water. We are concerned too for the quality of rivers and lakes. The efforts to control industrial drainage are slowly but steadily rejuvenating the quality of these bodies of water. Polluted, poisoned, and foul water is only slightly better than no water at all.
Baptism surfaces the theme of the quality of our water. What strange sort of quality is it that we attribute to the water of baptism? Is it the case that the water used for baptism comes from a special source? We have heard stories of those who bring home a bit of the water of the River Jordan for use in baptism. Sometimes people may even assume that the baptismal water comes from a unique source and certainly not from the faucet in the church kitchen. What is the quality of this baptismal water?
The Baptism of Our Lord affords us an opportunity to do some important teaching through our sermons. While baptism is widely practiced and deeply cherished by lay people, there remain a great many misconceptions of the sacrament. Like most of you, we have heard some comments about baptism which betrayed terrible misunderstandings. This Sunday would be an appropriate time to help our congregations think more clearly and more faithfully about the rite of baptism. What is the quality of baptismal water?
Genesis 1:1-5
Now here's a peculiar kind of water! The first story of creation in Genesis (1:1--2:1a) supposes a kind of pre-creation reality. The marvelous story is structured around seven periods, called days. In each period, God speaks and brings something into existence. Then the author tells us of the completion of a day.
In verses 1-2 this passage provides us with the general setting for the whole of the creation story. We are asked to imagine a time before time, an existence before existence, a mysterious time. "In the beginning" there was an absence of all form and structure. All was utter chaos, a disordered jumble. Moreover, the primeval picture supposes that there was a vast sea that covered everything. The author speaks of the "face of the deep" and "the face of waters." A chaotic sea or deep constituted the sole reality, and the first act of creation was the taming of this water. Sweeping over the top of this chaotic water is "a wind from God." The phrase translates the ambiguous Hebrew word that means at the same time breath, wind, and spirit. In some fashion, the passage asks us to picture God's presence hovering over chaotic nothingness. That picture sets the stage for God's creative action.
The passage then gives us a brief account of the creation of light. God speaks, and the spoken word brings into being that which did not exist. The word is a simple command, "Let there be light." With the words, light is created in the darkness. This story exemplifies the Hebraic understanding of the power of God's word and creates the foundation on which the church has developed a theology of the word. What is important here is that even today God's word is capable of creating light in our lives and our world. The Creator then endorses the newly-born light, saying it is "good." Next the light is ordered in relationship with darkness ("separated"), and each is given its name. For the ancient mind, naming was part of the creative process itself. Something or someone had to have a name to exist. So, God is doing more here than putting convenient handles on the light and darkness! The reading ends with the marking of the first "day."
It is that watery chaotic deep that interests us. Such a quality of water it is! It sparks two reflections on water: First of all, the role of water is so important to us humans that a body of water is thought to have existed before anything else. It is the basic "stuff" of reality. It is something like what Carl Jung called an "archetype" in the human subconsciousness. We can imagine how such a view would germinate in the ancient mind. The first form of human life, the fetus, begins within the water of the womb. Just so, then, did the whole of the universe begin in water. Biology adds its insight by arguing that all life forms began in the sea.
Second, however, this is chaotic water. It is without form and structure, devoid of boundaries. The Creator takes control of the chaos and begins the process of bringing order to reality. In this first creation story, bridling the water is the first act of creation, without which none of the later steps would be possible. As water seems to be a kind of subconscious archetype, so too are chaotic waters a basic human fear. What is more frightening to us than a storm at sea when the water seems to regress to utter disorder? To begin to think about the water of baptism, we need to realize its primitive role in our lives and its dangerous powers when left uncontrolled. Water is used in this sacred rite of initiation into the Christian community because of the special and unique qualities assigned to water by humans.
Acts 19:1-7
Now we leap to Christian baptism in the early church. It's quite a leap from "the beginning," although the life of the first Christians constituted another beginning. The author of Acts (most likely Luke) tells a rather strange story that piques the curiosity of both historians and theologians alike. Paul stumbles on to some Christian believers in Ephesus. Wonderful, you say? Someone else had made it to Ephesus before Paul got there. But such believers they are. They haven't even heard of the Holy Spirit. Notice that Paul immediately asks them about their baptisms. He seems to think that, if these believers know nothing of the Holy Spirit, their baptismal experience is the problem.
They respond to Paul's query by saying they were baptized "into John's baptism." This is a curious response. Does it mean that Christian missionaries from the John the Baptist movement had been at work here in Ephesus? What sort of group were they? How could they call themselves Christians while knowing only John's baptism? By including this story, Luke suggests to us that early Christianity was a far more varied and diversified movement than we are sometimes inclined to think. But what's most important here is that Paul associates the Spirit with baptism and that John's baptism was something very different from the Christian rite.
Paul's explanation of the difference between John's baptism and Christian baptism sounds very much like the words of John himself in the Gospel lesson for the day. John's baptism was strictly for turning about in life, and it pointed beyond the baptizer to Christ. The believers immediately want to fix this problem on the spot, and they are baptized "in the name of Jesus." However, the gift of the Holy Spirit comes in an additional rite of the laying on of hands. Tongues and prophesying are often signs of the Spirit's presence in Acts, in this case meaning that the laying on of hands worked. In other words, the newly baptized showed evidence of the gift of the Spirit in their behavior.
Luke confuses us just a bit in this story, since he seems to identify the gift of the Spirit with baptism, but in this case separates the two and makes the laying on of hands the occasion for that divine gift. Luke often associates baptism and the gift of the Spirit (e.g., 2:38). Nonetheless, the Spirit seems free of any human activity (e.g., 9:17). In 10:44, for instance, the coming of the Spirit precedes baptism. Once the Gentiles showed evidence of having the Spirit, the missionaries baptized them. All we can conclude from this little story is that it is another incident of the close relationship between baptism and the gift of the Holy Spirit. However, for Luke the relationship was not structured into a regular pattern.
What kind of water brings the gift of the Spirit? Interesting, isn't it, that the Genesis story has God's Spirit sweeping over the face of the water and Luke associates baptismal water and the gift of the Spirit. There is a quality of this water that is unique, then, because of what the Spirit does with it. The baptism "in the name of the Lord Jesus" entails a water transformed for special use. Water quality is important, too, in Jesus' own baptism.
Mark 1:4-11
John the Baptist appeared in two of the Gospel lessons in Advent. In those appearances he is important as one who points us into the future and Christ's coming. On this occasion, however, he plays a different role. Mark clearly defines John's role. He practices "a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin." Or, as John himself says later (v. 8), his baptism is with water, and Christian baptism is with the Holy Spirit. Through a washing in water, John offers forgiveness. Repentance seems in this case to be a recognition of one's need of forgiveness. It is a turning away from self-confidence to self-realization. So, as people are baptized, Mark tells us they confessed their sins (v. 5b).
The crowds swarm out to see John and be baptized. As odd a sight as he was, he has his moment in the spotlight. But he wants to be sure that people do not misunderstand who he is and what he is doing. He is but a forerunner, and the one who follows him is far more important than he. John points out three differences between himself and the one who comes after him. First, this other is more powerful than John. Second, he is greater in stature than John. John makes clear that he is not worthy even to do for this one who follows him what a slave would do for a master. Finally, the two are different in their baptisms. John uses water; his successor will bring the Holy Spirit.
Verses 9-11 conclude the reading with the account of John's baptism of Jesus. Mark does not offer us any reason for Jesus' coming to John, no hesitancy on John's part to baptize him, and no conversation between the two of them. The story is straightforward. Jesus is baptized. What is most important for Mark is what happens after Jesus' baptism. He has a kind of apocalyptic experience. He sees the skies open up and the Spirit descend on him. Mark tells this incident strictly in terms of what Jesus experienced without any claim that others saw what Jesus saw. The other Gospels may suggest that the Spirit's descent was a public event. For instance, the fourth Gospel reports the Baptist's testimony that he saw the Spirit descend on Jesus (John 1:32). (But the fourth Gospel never narrates the story of Jesus' baptism itself.) Mark, however, tells the story in such a way as to suggest that this was Jesus' private experience.
Then comes the heavenly voice: "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." God again calls Jesus the beloved Son at his transfiguration (9:7). Mark is very careful about this acclamation. In addition to God's own voice, the narrator calls Jesus the Son of God (1:1), and the demons sometimes address him with this title (e.g., 3:11). In Mark no human calls Jesus Son of God until the centurion speaks at the foot of the cross (15:39). Readers are allowed to know what the characters in the story do not know, namely, Jesus' true identity.
This story surfaces a lot of questions for us. Not least among them is why would Jesus be baptized? If John's baptism is for repentance for the forgiveness of sin, does Jesus need it? If Jesus is so great, why does he ask John to baptize him? (That's John's very hesitancy in the Matthean account of Jesus' baptism -- 3:14.) If Jesus is the Son of God, why does he need the divine voice to tell him who he is and what does he need with the Holy Spirit?
We can't answer all of these questions here. However, it seems clear to us that Jesus undergoes baptism in order to identify fully with humanity. In the course of his ministry he will share the human experience completely, even the experience of the consequences of sin (see Mark 15:24). The water of baptism is, therefore, water that represents the human experience. It is water that cleanses humans of the plight we all share, and Jesus voluntarily shared that plight with us. Moreover, there can be little doubt that Mark's account of Jesus' baptism is intended to be read as Jesus' personal experience. The descent of the Spirit and the divine voice confirm Jesus' understanding of himself and his experience. They are God's own stamp of approval on Jesus as he begins his ministry.
The gift of the Spirit is again associated with baptism. As one who is fully human, Jesus needs the empowerment and guidance of the Spirit, even as we do. The water of baptism conveys God's promise of the Spirit -- God's promise of divine presence. This water has a peculiar quality because God is at work in and through it. Through a tiny bit of the primordial deep, God orders the chaos of our lives and turns threatening water into a source of life. There is nothing magical about this water. It is a bit of an ordinary substance, no different from the water we drink from the fountain in the hallway when we are thirsty. However, it is the ordinary pressed into extraordinary service. The quality of this water is that it is accompanied by the Word of God, by Christ himself. In this unusual form, Christ comes into our lives and makes us children of our Creator.
Jesus' own ministry is a model for us and our ministries. As Jesus experienced the empowerment of the Spirit after his baptism, so we may expect the Spirit to fill our lives. As Jesus heard himself declared the Son of God, so baptism is our adoption as God's own children. As Jesus' baptism began his ministry of love and service, so baptism launches us on our own ministries. What a peculiar quality this water has!
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Genesis 1:1-5
Unfortunately, this text from Genesis has often been connected with baptism, and therefore the lectionary has selected it for this Sunday on which we celebrate the baptism of Jesus. The confusion has arisen because of a faulty reading of the passage. For example, the "Thanksgiving over the Water" of baptism in some worship books begins this way: "We give you thanks, Eternal God, for you nourish and sustain all living things by the gift of water. In the beginning of time, your Spirit moved over the watery chaos, calling forth order and life" (The Book of Common Worship, 1993). The implication is that God has created the world by his Spirit, and some of our radical feminists have even imagined that the Spirit in our text is like a mother bird, hovering over her nest and hatching the universes. But of course that is not what our text says, does it? Genesis 1 is emphatic in its emphasis on God's creation by his word, and it is then the use of "word" that ties Genesis 1 together with John 1.
A legitimate case could be made by saying that Genesis 1 tells of the beginning of creation, and with Jesus' baptism and ministry, God begins the new creation by the inbreaking of his kingdom on earth. But otherwise the use of this text to set forth creation by the Spirit is, by my reading of the text, in error. The picture that we have in 1:2 is of chaotic, dark, stormy waters, and the word "spirit" (ruach) is to be translated simply as "wind," as in the NRSV.
The text says nothing about where the chaotic waters came from, and many have held that there is no doctrine of creation out of nothing (creation ex nihilo) here, which is a standard Christian doctrine. But the chaos throughout the scriptures represents void, nothingness, evil, and it is very difficult to talk about nothing, non-existence. God confronts the power of nothingness, evil, void, emptiness, darkness in our text, and changes it all into good and order, light and life. From the beginning, our God confronts death and changes it into life by his mighty word.
All that is comes from God. As the Fourth Gospel puts it, "All things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made" (John 1:3). We human beings, with our technology, our petri dishes, our cloning and artificial insemination, may think that we are the creators of life. Certainly we act as if we were sometimes. But apart from God, there is no DNA even to start with and our clever science has nothing to work with. There must be the creator God in the beginning, or there cannot be anything. God alone must start it all and then sustain it.
Surely it is an overwhelming thought that you and I and all persons and things come from the hand of God. "Why was I born?" we all sometimes ask ourselves. "Why did I come forth into the light?" And the only answer that our scripture gives is that it was the will of God. God intended you and me. God intended his creation. And given that intention, surely we must conclude that it was for a purpose. It is sheer folly to think that everything and everyone are simply for no reason at all.
Certainly we can say that it was not that God needed us or anything else. He did not improve his lot by calling creation into existence. Indeed, he probably would have been a lot better off without us. We have given him nothing but trouble from the beginning of time. Have you read of God's grief later in the story of Genesis? "The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the Lord was sorry that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart" (Genesis 6:5-6). God would have been a lot better off without us.
But he had a purpose, didn't he? Some have said that the Lord created the universes just because he loves. That great love burst forth out of his heart, and he uttered his word, and out came stars and trees, animals and birds, women and men, and all the infinite variety of being. God created because he loves. And all creation is intended to give back that love. Is that not the purpose of our lives? Colossians puts it very well: "All things were created through him and for him" (Colossians 1:16). We were created to love God in Jesus Christ as he so lovingly created us.
Surely his love in making his world is mirrored in its beauty. Our text says that first God created light and it was good. And that goodness marks every action that Genesis goes on to mention, so that at the end of our chapter our text can read, "And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good" (Genesis 1:31). God's love laid goodness upon his whole creation -- fairness, beauty of light and design, color and form, and if there is ugliness and disharmony, evil and darkness in this world of ours, it did not come from the hand of the Creator. It came from the works of us human beings who so often grieve God to his heart.
We cause that grief, do we not, by trying to make God unnecessary, as if we were the creators of ourselves, with no obligation to our Maker? You know the phrase, "He's a self-made man." We admire that enterprise, don't we? Or "she's a very independent person." But surely the God who made us also owns our lives, and we will not be what we were intended to be until we acknowledge his ownership. "It is he that hath made us," sings the Psalmist, "and we are his" (Psalm 100:3). And until we revel in that loving ownership we will never know inner peace.
Similarly, we will cause our Creator disappointment and grief as long as we try to make him less than he really is. It is the fad these days in religious circles to confuse God with the world he has made, to try to find him encapsuled in the finite world of nature or in some idol or person of this world. Then, goes the reasoning, all things are joined by a divine spirit in, through, and under every thing and person. And God becomes identified with that which passes away. But God does not pass away, does he?
"Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting thou art God" (Psalm 90:2). That is the viewpoint of our text also. Before there was anything or even time itself, there was God. And after time has ended and creation is no more, there will still be God. And because that is true, "the heavens (may) vanish like smoke, the earth wear out like a garment, and they who dwell in it die like gnats" (Isaiah 51:6); but God is able to take his faithful into an eternal kingdom that will never pass away. God endures, good Christian friends, and so does the everlasting life that he is able to give us all.
So what is our response? Gratitude for the wonder of the life he has given us in his love; thankfulness for the goodness of creation that he pours out on us daily; certain hope and undimmed joy for the eternal life that he promises us.
Water is essential to our lives. However, water comes in all qualities, and our society shows an increasing concern for the quality of the water we drink. Bottled water has become a fad because, supposedly, it is purer than tap water. We are concerned too for the quality of rivers and lakes. The efforts to control industrial drainage are slowly but steadily rejuvenating the quality of these bodies of water. Polluted, poisoned, and foul water is only slightly better than no water at all.
Baptism surfaces the theme of the quality of our water. What strange sort of quality is it that we attribute to the water of baptism? Is it the case that the water used for baptism comes from a special source? We have heard stories of those who bring home a bit of the water of the River Jordan for use in baptism. Sometimes people may even assume that the baptismal water comes from a unique source and certainly not from the faucet in the church kitchen. What is the quality of this baptismal water?
The Baptism of Our Lord affords us an opportunity to do some important teaching through our sermons. While baptism is widely practiced and deeply cherished by lay people, there remain a great many misconceptions of the sacrament. Like most of you, we have heard some comments about baptism which betrayed terrible misunderstandings. This Sunday would be an appropriate time to help our congregations think more clearly and more faithfully about the rite of baptism. What is the quality of baptismal water?
Genesis 1:1-5
Now here's a peculiar kind of water! The first story of creation in Genesis (1:1--2:1a) supposes a kind of pre-creation reality. The marvelous story is structured around seven periods, called days. In each period, God speaks and brings something into existence. Then the author tells us of the completion of a day.
In verses 1-2 this passage provides us with the general setting for the whole of the creation story. We are asked to imagine a time before time, an existence before existence, a mysterious time. "In the beginning" there was an absence of all form and structure. All was utter chaos, a disordered jumble. Moreover, the primeval picture supposes that there was a vast sea that covered everything. The author speaks of the "face of the deep" and "the face of waters." A chaotic sea or deep constituted the sole reality, and the first act of creation was the taming of this water. Sweeping over the top of this chaotic water is "a wind from God." The phrase translates the ambiguous Hebrew word that means at the same time breath, wind, and spirit. In some fashion, the passage asks us to picture God's presence hovering over chaotic nothingness. That picture sets the stage for God's creative action.
The passage then gives us a brief account of the creation of light. God speaks, and the spoken word brings into being that which did not exist. The word is a simple command, "Let there be light." With the words, light is created in the darkness. This story exemplifies the Hebraic understanding of the power of God's word and creates the foundation on which the church has developed a theology of the word. What is important here is that even today God's word is capable of creating light in our lives and our world. The Creator then endorses the newly-born light, saying it is "good." Next the light is ordered in relationship with darkness ("separated"), and each is given its name. For the ancient mind, naming was part of the creative process itself. Something or someone had to have a name to exist. So, God is doing more here than putting convenient handles on the light and darkness! The reading ends with the marking of the first "day."
It is that watery chaotic deep that interests us. Such a quality of water it is! It sparks two reflections on water: First of all, the role of water is so important to us humans that a body of water is thought to have existed before anything else. It is the basic "stuff" of reality. It is something like what Carl Jung called an "archetype" in the human subconsciousness. We can imagine how such a view would germinate in the ancient mind. The first form of human life, the fetus, begins within the water of the womb. Just so, then, did the whole of the universe begin in water. Biology adds its insight by arguing that all life forms began in the sea.
Second, however, this is chaotic water. It is without form and structure, devoid of boundaries. The Creator takes control of the chaos and begins the process of bringing order to reality. In this first creation story, bridling the water is the first act of creation, without which none of the later steps would be possible. As water seems to be a kind of subconscious archetype, so too are chaotic waters a basic human fear. What is more frightening to us than a storm at sea when the water seems to regress to utter disorder? To begin to think about the water of baptism, we need to realize its primitive role in our lives and its dangerous powers when left uncontrolled. Water is used in this sacred rite of initiation into the Christian community because of the special and unique qualities assigned to water by humans.
Acts 19:1-7
Now we leap to Christian baptism in the early church. It's quite a leap from "the beginning," although the life of the first Christians constituted another beginning. The author of Acts (most likely Luke) tells a rather strange story that piques the curiosity of both historians and theologians alike. Paul stumbles on to some Christian believers in Ephesus. Wonderful, you say? Someone else had made it to Ephesus before Paul got there. But such believers they are. They haven't even heard of the Holy Spirit. Notice that Paul immediately asks them about their baptisms. He seems to think that, if these believers know nothing of the Holy Spirit, their baptismal experience is the problem.
They respond to Paul's query by saying they were baptized "into John's baptism." This is a curious response. Does it mean that Christian missionaries from the John the Baptist movement had been at work here in Ephesus? What sort of group were they? How could they call themselves Christians while knowing only John's baptism? By including this story, Luke suggests to us that early Christianity was a far more varied and diversified movement than we are sometimes inclined to think. But what's most important here is that Paul associates the Spirit with baptism and that John's baptism was something very different from the Christian rite.
Paul's explanation of the difference between John's baptism and Christian baptism sounds very much like the words of John himself in the Gospel lesson for the day. John's baptism was strictly for turning about in life, and it pointed beyond the baptizer to Christ. The believers immediately want to fix this problem on the spot, and they are baptized "in the name of Jesus." However, the gift of the Holy Spirit comes in an additional rite of the laying on of hands. Tongues and prophesying are often signs of the Spirit's presence in Acts, in this case meaning that the laying on of hands worked. In other words, the newly baptized showed evidence of the gift of the Spirit in their behavior.
Luke confuses us just a bit in this story, since he seems to identify the gift of the Spirit with baptism, but in this case separates the two and makes the laying on of hands the occasion for that divine gift. Luke often associates baptism and the gift of the Spirit (e.g., 2:38). Nonetheless, the Spirit seems free of any human activity (e.g., 9:17). In 10:44, for instance, the coming of the Spirit precedes baptism. Once the Gentiles showed evidence of having the Spirit, the missionaries baptized them. All we can conclude from this little story is that it is another incident of the close relationship between baptism and the gift of the Holy Spirit. However, for Luke the relationship was not structured into a regular pattern.
What kind of water brings the gift of the Spirit? Interesting, isn't it, that the Genesis story has God's Spirit sweeping over the face of the water and Luke associates baptismal water and the gift of the Spirit. There is a quality of this water that is unique, then, because of what the Spirit does with it. The baptism "in the name of the Lord Jesus" entails a water transformed for special use. Water quality is important, too, in Jesus' own baptism.
Mark 1:4-11
John the Baptist appeared in two of the Gospel lessons in Advent. In those appearances he is important as one who points us into the future and Christ's coming. On this occasion, however, he plays a different role. Mark clearly defines John's role. He practices "a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin." Or, as John himself says later (v. 8), his baptism is with water, and Christian baptism is with the Holy Spirit. Through a washing in water, John offers forgiveness. Repentance seems in this case to be a recognition of one's need of forgiveness. It is a turning away from self-confidence to self-realization. So, as people are baptized, Mark tells us they confessed their sins (v. 5b).
The crowds swarm out to see John and be baptized. As odd a sight as he was, he has his moment in the spotlight. But he wants to be sure that people do not misunderstand who he is and what he is doing. He is but a forerunner, and the one who follows him is far more important than he. John points out three differences between himself and the one who comes after him. First, this other is more powerful than John. Second, he is greater in stature than John. John makes clear that he is not worthy even to do for this one who follows him what a slave would do for a master. Finally, the two are different in their baptisms. John uses water; his successor will bring the Holy Spirit.
Verses 9-11 conclude the reading with the account of John's baptism of Jesus. Mark does not offer us any reason for Jesus' coming to John, no hesitancy on John's part to baptize him, and no conversation between the two of them. The story is straightforward. Jesus is baptized. What is most important for Mark is what happens after Jesus' baptism. He has a kind of apocalyptic experience. He sees the skies open up and the Spirit descend on him. Mark tells this incident strictly in terms of what Jesus experienced without any claim that others saw what Jesus saw. The other Gospels may suggest that the Spirit's descent was a public event. For instance, the fourth Gospel reports the Baptist's testimony that he saw the Spirit descend on Jesus (John 1:32). (But the fourth Gospel never narrates the story of Jesus' baptism itself.) Mark, however, tells the story in such a way as to suggest that this was Jesus' private experience.
Then comes the heavenly voice: "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." God again calls Jesus the beloved Son at his transfiguration (9:7). Mark is very careful about this acclamation. In addition to God's own voice, the narrator calls Jesus the Son of God (1:1), and the demons sometimes address him with this title (e.g., 3:11). In Mark no human calls Jesus Son of God until the centurion speaks at the foot of the cross (15:39). Readers are allowed to know what the characters in the story do not know, namely, Jesus' true identity.
This story surfaces a lot of questions for us. Not least among them is why would Jesus be baptized? If John's baptism is for repentance for the forgiveness of sin, does Jesus need it? If Jesus is so great, why does he ask John to baptize him? (That's John's very hesitancy in the Matthean account of Jesus' baptism -- 3:14.) If Jesus is the Son of God, why does he need the divine voice to tell him who he is and what does he need with the Holy Spirit?
We can't answer all of these questions here. However, it seems clear to us that Jesus undergoes baptism in order to identify fully with humanity. In the course of his ministry he will share the human experience completely, even the experience of the consequences of sin (see Mark 15:24). The water of baptism is, therefore, water that represents the human experience. It is water that cleanses humans of the plight we all share, and Jesus voluntarily shared that plight with us. Moreover, there can be little doubt that Mark's account of Jesus' baptism is intended to be read as Jesus' personal experience. The descent of the Spirit and the divine voice confirm Jesus' understanding of himself and his experience. They are God's own stamp of approval on Jesus as he begins his ministry.
The gift of the Spirit is again associated with baptism. As one who is fully human, Jesus needs the empowerment and guidance of the Spirit, even as we do. The water of baptism conveys God's promise of the Spirit -- God's promise of divine presence. This water has a peculiar quality because God is at work in and through it. Through a tiny bit of the primordial deep, God orders the chaos of our lives and turns threatening water into a source of life. There is nothing magical about this water. It is a bit of an ordinary substance, no different from the water we drink from the fountain in the hallway when we are thirsty. However, it is the ordinary pressed into extraordinary service. The quality of this water is that it is accompanied by the Word of God, by Christ himself. In this unusual form, Christ comes into our lives and makes us children of our Creator.
Jesus' own ministry is a model for us and our ministries. As Jesus experienced the empowerment of the Spirit after his baptism, so we may expect the Spirit to fill our lives. As Jesus heard himself declared the Son of God, so baptism is our adoption as God's own children. As Jesus' baptism began his ministry of love and service, so baptism launches us on our own ministries. What a peculiar quality this water has!
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Genesis 1:1-5
Unfortunately, this text from Genesis has often been connected with baptism, and therefore the lectionary has selected it for this Sunday on which we celebrate the baptism of Jesus. The confusion has arisen because of a faulty reading of the passage. For example, the "Thanksgiving over the Water" of baptism in some worship books begins this way: "We give you thanks, Eternal God, for you nourish and sustain all living things by the gift of water. In the beginning of time, your Spirit moved over the watery chaos, calling forth order and life" (The Book of Common Worship, 1993). The implication is that God has created the world by his Spirit, and some of our radical feminists have even imagined that the Spirit in our text is like a mother bird, hovering over her nest and hatching the universes. But of course that is not what our text says, does it? Genesis 1 is emphatic in its emphasis on God's creation by his word, and it is then the use of "word" that ties Genesis 1 together with John 1.
A legitimate case could be made by saying that Genesis 1 tells of the beginning of creation, and with Jesus' baptism and ministry, God begins the new creation by the inbreaking of his kingdom on earth. But otherwise the use of this text to set forth creation by the Spirit is, by my reading of the text, in error. The picture that we have in 1:2 is of chaotic, dark, stormy waters, and the word "spirit" (ruach) is to be translated simply as "wind," as in the NRSV.
The text says nothing about where the chaotic waters came from, and many have held that there is no doctrine of creation out of nothing (creation ex nihilo) here, which is a standard Christian doctrine. But the chaos throughout the scriptures represents void, nothingness, evil, and it is very difficult to talk about nothing, non-existence. God confronts the power of nothingness, evil, void, emptiness, darkness in our text, and changes it all into good and order, light and life. From the beginning, our God confronts death and changes it into life by his mighty word.
All that is comes from God. As the Fourth Gospel puts it, "All things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made" (John 1:3). We human beings, with our technology, our petri dishes, our cloning and artificial insemination, may think that we are the creators of life. Certainly we act as if we were sometimes. But apart from God, there is no DNA even to start with and our clever science has nothing to work with. There must be the creator God in the beginning, or there cannot be anything. God alone must start it all and then sustain it.
Surely it is an overwhelming thought that you and I and all persons and things come from the hand of God. "Why was I born?" we all sometimes ask ourselves. "Why did I come forth into the light?" And the only answer that our scripture gives is that it was the will of God. God intended you and me. God intended his creation. And given that intention, surely we must conclude that it was for a purpose. It is sheer folly to think that everything and everyone are simply for no reason at all.
Certainly we can say that it was not that God needed us or anything else. He did not improve his lot by calling creation into existence. Indeed, he probably would have been a lot better off without us. We have given him nothing but trouble from the beginning of time. Have you read of God's grief later in the story of Genesis? "The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the Lord was sorry that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart" (Genesis 6:5-6). God would have been a lot better off without us.
But he had a purpose, didn't he? Some have said that the Lord created the universes just because he loves. That great love burst forth out of his heart, and he uttered his word, and out came stars and trees, animals and birds, women and men, and all the infinite variety of being. God created because he loves. And all creation is intended to give back that love. Is that not the purpose of our lives? Colossians puts it very well: "All things were created through him and for him" (Colossians 1:16). We were created to love God in Jesus Christ as he so lovingly created us.
Surely his love in making his world is mirrored in its beauty. Our text says that first God created light and it was good. And that goodness marks every action that Genesis goes on to mention, so that at the end of our chapter our text can read, "And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good" (Genesis 1:31). God's love laid goodness upon his whole creation -- fairness, beauty of light and design, color and form, and if there is ugliness and disharmony, evil and darkness in this world of ours, it did not come from the hand of the Creator. It came from the works of us human beings who so often grieve God to his heart.
We cause that grief, do we not, by trying to make God unnecessary, as if we were the creators of ourselves, with no obligation to our Maker? You know the phrase, "He's a self-made man." We admire that enterprise, don't we? Or "she's a very independent person." But surely the God who made us also owns our lives, and we will not be what we were intended to be until we acknowledge his ownership. "It is he that hath made us," sings the Psalmist, "and we are his" (Psalm 100:3). And until we revel in that loving ownership we will never know inner peace.
Similarly, we will cause our Creator disappointment and grief as long as we try to make him less than he really is. It is the fad these days in religious circles to confuse God with the world he has made, to try to find him encapsuled in the finite world of nature or in some idol or person of this world. Then, goes the reasoning, all things are joined by a divine spirit in, through, and under every thing and person. And God becomes identified with that which passes away. But God does not pass away, does he?
"Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting thou art God" (Psalm 90:2). That is the viewpoint of our text also. Before there was anything or even time itself, there was God. And after time has ended and creation is no more, there will still be God. And because that is true, "the heavens (may) vanish like smoke, the earth wear out like a garment, and they who dwell in it die like gnats" (Isaiah 51:6); but God is able to take his faithful into an eternal kingdom that will never pass away. God endures, good Christian friends, and so does the everlasting life that he is able to give us all.
So what is our response? Gratitude for the wonder of the life he has given us in his love; thankfulness for the goodness of creation that he pours out on us daily; certain hope and undimmed joy for the eternal life that he promises us.
