Baptism's stage
Commentary
Perhaps by now Kierkegaard's metaphor of the theater of worship has been overworked. However, his challenge for the church to reconsider the performers and the audience in the event of worship may be timeless. Kierkegaard questions the assumption that worship leaders and preachers stand before the congregation/audience as they carry out their part of the worship/play. The chancel and altar area should not be considered the stage for worship that sits there in front of the gathered audience waiting for the actors and actresses to proceed with the movement of worship. Kierkegaard's notion of the theater of worship re-frames the image and shifts the paradigm. Worship leaders are more like directors who lead and guide from behind the scenes or to the side of center stage. Members of the congregation serve as the main characters as they participate in the liturgy, the work of the people. The gathering of the church, then, forms at center stage. As the object of the praise and adoration of the community of faith, God is conceived as the audience, the recipient of the congregation's performance of worship on the Lord's Day.
Those of us who have the privilege of celebrating the sacrament of baptism know how difficult it is to experience and accept Kierkegaard's paradigm shift. When we approach the baptistery or stand at the font, all eyes (and video cameras) are on us. With a baby in arms, what pastor hasn't noticed the rapt attention offered to the infant? Who would not feel like it's a stage?
Not too long ago I baptized a baby whose calm presence and constant stare startled me. She rested comfortably in my arms and seemed so attentive to my voice. She looked right into my eyes. For a time I found myself forgetting the crowd who was watching. I turned to look up at the ceiling to see if it was only a spotlight that grabbed her attention. In the holiness of the moment, I forgot about baptism's stage. Or perhaps this infant's countenance reminded me of that divine audience: the God who attends our frail performance of baptism, our celebration of his grace. Every now and then, the church ought to remember the greater audience who welcomes the liturgy of our worship.
This Sunday in January the liturgical cycle takes us to the baptism of Jesus. The lectionary texts themselves may invite a primer on baptismal doctrine. A preacher may remember how many times the question has come: "So why did Jesus have to be baptized?" Some may choose to rehash the historical, theological debates about the sonship of Christ; pre-existence or adoption or announcement of public ministry. Through it all, the baptism of Jesus takes place on creation's stage. The Gospel accounts tell of a liturgy of the Lord's baptism that affirms a cosmic setting. When it comes to the baptism of Jesus -- and ours -- we need a bigger stage.
Genesis 1:1-5
In her First Lesson Focus, Dr. Achtemeier questions the selection of the Genesis passage for this Baptism of the Lord Sunday. The preacher will want to reflect upon her suggestion that the water described in these first verses should be compared to the darkness and the void. In trying to find connections to the liturgy of baptism and the focus of discipleship, Dr. Achtemeier works with the image of light. Playing with some of the operative characters in creation's story, water and light, the preacher may choose to proclaim that baptismal affirmation of life in Christ.
The place of the Old Testament lesson may play a role in worship beyond that of the sermon. These familiar words that ring out "In the beginning" can be invoked in worship as affirmation, or read in the fashion of a litany. In some sense, Genesis 1:1-5 read in worship may stand beyond interpretation. Those opening phrases framed as a call to worship may simply tag something of the larger context in which the congregation may ponder the baptism of Jesus. For instance, as the preacher turns to the gospel story of the Lord's baptism, the Genesis text reflects notions of the cosmic Christ, the Lord of all creation, the first born of all creation (Colossians 1:15ff). The one who comes to be baptized by John is the first and the last, the Alpha and the Omega (Revelation 1:8). When read in worship, the first verses of Genesis carry something of the weight of the larger story of God's faithfulness and our salvation. One familiar story (creation) informs another familiar story (the baptism of Jesus).
In a similar way, the words from Genesis simply invite creation's presence. Like a hymn that tells of creation singing, or like that morning walk that sparks the heart to sing thanks for another day, these most familiar verses affirm creation's attentiveness in response to the person and work of Christ. This same creation that groans while waiting for the one who subjected it in hope (Romans 8:19-23) is the creation that stands to witness the Lord's baptism by John. To invoke creation's story in worship is to frame the bigger picture of the lordship of Christ and God's plan of salvation. As the congregation pauses with the Creator over the formless void of the earth, so too, we gather at the Jordan River. All of creation pauses to witness the baptismal event. The Gospels will tell of creation's participation, but here with a reading from Genesis, creation is invited to the stage where the drama of salvation unfolds.
Acts 19:1-7
The assignment from Acts on this Sunday of the Lord's baptism does not benefit from other readings from Acts on preceding Sundays. Because of the nature of this first Sunday after Epiphany and the specific focus on the gospel reading, preacher and congregation must drop into the Acts of the Apostles in the middle of a story. Some background information about this third missionary journey of Paul is helpful. A simple reading through the prior chapters provides the necessary information and sets up Paul's longer stay in Ephesus mentioned in chapter 19. For the purposes of this particular Sunday, the information about Apollos told in the last five verses of chapter 18 seems important. Apollos is described as eloquent and well-versed in scripture. He had been instructed in the Way of the Lord and he spoke with enthusiasm and taught accurately. Apollos is not a passing street preacher who simply stirs the pot. He has the background, the education, the experience, and the faith. The baptismal confusion of the 19th chapter must be read in light of the character and qualifications of Apollos. He benefits in his own understanding and reveals a humility of thought as he learns from Priscilla and Aquila. His own ministry, becoming more passionate as he helped those who had become disciples, powerfully refuted the Jews and used the scriptures to show that Jesus was the Messiah (18:24-28).
Some try to suggest that the "burning enthusiasm" of Apollos comes more from his own rhetoric than from the presence of the Holy Spirit. Others try to wrestle with descriptions of Apollos' own accuracy which must then be corrected by Priscilla and Aquila. Beyond word dissection, the story of Apollos seems to recount a journey of growth, humility, and learning. While he must not have been getting everything right, his ministry was influencing many and leading them to an encounter with the Messiah. At the very least, the end of chapter 18 seems to set up the baptismal confusion in chapter 19 as a significant challenge. Baptismal doctrine no doubt challenged the New Testament church as it has challenged the church ever since.
The first seven verses of chapter 19 are those assigned for this Sunday. Upon his arrival in Ephesus, now separated from Apollos in time and distance, Paul comes upon some disciples. Given the context of doctrinal confusion, the use of the term "disciples" is challenging. The designation of full-fledged believers is certainly not implied by the encounter. The reader may conclude this gathering of followers in Ephesus were disciples of John. Paul affirms that John served as a witness to the One who was to come after. The doctrinal correction, so to speak, involves not only baptism and Holy Spirit, but also the difference between following John and experiencing life in Christ. Paul offers a paradigm shift from John to a baptism of repentance to Jesus and the in-breaking presence of the Holy Spirit. The two gifts listed as evidence of the Spirit (tongues and prophecy) should not be considered exhaustive. The tangible evidence of the Spirit affirms the existence of the kingdom of God, claimed in light of baptism in the name of Jesus.
The challenges of Paul's life in Ephesus are described in the verses that follow. In furthering the story in Acts, Luke tells of Paul preaching, arguing, and spreading the Word of the Lord. The account also lists miracles, healings, and exorcisms. The response grew as lives and entire households were transformed. Book burnings marked the not so subtle shifts of philosophy and culture. As Luke tells it, "So the word of the Lord grew mightily and prevailed" (Acts 19:20). But all of it began in Ephesus with the clarification of the practices and beliefs surrounding baptism. At its root that clarification must say less about baptismal perfection in terms of doctrine and practice and more about an exhortation to a Spirit-filled life in Christ.
Mark 1:4-11
The Mark reading revisits the gospel reading for the Second Sunday of Advent. With this assignment, lectionary users also begin a steady journey through Mark's Gospel. Preachers who have been here before will look for Mark's brevity. We find ourselves searching for signs of that messianic secret. We expect the disciples to look a bit less "put together." We will watch for the vocabulary of Mark that immediately grabs our attention. The narrative that tells of the baptism of Jesus, as briefly recorded as it is, provides a typical brush with Mark's Gospel. The first few verses reintroduce the reader/listener to the character of John the Baptist. On this particular Sunday, it seems that the introduction serves to set up the scene at the baptism of Jesus rather than to focus on the person of John. By that brief description we now know of the wilderness, the crowds, John's dress and diet, and the content of his message; baptism is for the forgiveness of sins and the one coming after is more powerful. Mark's John the Baptist refers to the baptismal practice of Jesus in terms of the Holy Spirit. The mention of baptism by fire is left to other Gospel writers.
Mark describes the baptism itself in just a few verses. No conversation is recorded between Jesus and John the Baptist. Based on Mark's words, the baptism was a multi-sensory experience for Jesus. His body came up out of the water. With his eyes he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove. And Jesus heard the voice of God speaking from heaven. The depth of the experience of Jesus is overshadowed by Mark's description of the heavens' tearing apart. That violent image of being ripped apart matches Mark's language used at the crucifixion to describe the curtain of the temple being torn in two (15:38). The Lord's own sensory experience parallels an experience in creation itself that can be touched and felt. And the words from heaven match those offered at the Transfiguration (9:2-8). The affirmation of God that anoints Jesus for his passion is that same affirmation that rains down from heaven in preparation for his public ministry. Both the heavenly voice and the ripped heavens reflect the cosmic, divine character of this baptism in the Jordan.
Interestingly, when the lectionary comes back to the first chapter of Mark in a few weeks, the next scene that describes Jesus in the wilderness is skipped. No doubt we will return to the temptations in Lent. But the interpreter looking for a challenge may want to ponder the Spirit's work and the trip into the wilderness. At the very least, Mark's use of the word "immediately" forces us to consider the connections and transitions that pass so easily. Before beginning his public ministry of proclamation, teaching, and healing, Jesus' baptismal initiation takes him into the wilderness of John the Baptist. It is the wilderness of the Old Testament wanderings of the Exodus. The public ministry of Jesus, although announced at his baptism, begins only after an encounter with the darkness of the wilderness. The proclamation of Jesus doesn't start right at the cosmic, divine encounter of the Jordan River. It comes out of the depth and symbolism of the wilderness.
Application
Mark's narrative that tells of the baptism of Jesus is so typically brief that it invites the support of the worship context. Those planning worship may choose to recount the event with a hymn or emphasize the themes in a corporate prayer. The influence of this Sunday of the Lord's Baptism rarely moves beyond the sermon topic for the day. However, the magnitude of the event, even as it is described by Mark, warrants a bit more attention in the design and plan of our worship. No doubt a doctrinal sermon on one's tradition of baptism can be developed from the texts for the day. Beginning with Paul himself, history shows that debates about baptism practice in the church are a given. Preachers may choose to tackle the question of a second baptism of the Holy Spirit. Some will want to explore the absence of a "baptism of fire" in Mark's language. There is a possibility of addressing the difference between a baptism for the forgiveness of sins and the broader baptism in the name of Jesus. Sermon after sermon could explain the place of the Lord's baptism in his own self-awareness as Son of God. No doubt teaching sermons on the sacrament of baptism are necessary and not as common as they should be.
However, this text from Mark is so succinct. The few details are there for the taking. The preacher could expand on baptism, even struggling with theological issues not directly addressed in the text. Or the preacher could settle for focusing on what is there: dripping water, heavens torn open, the Holy Spirit's dove, and a voice from heaven. In Mark's account, conflict arises in no time. The ministry of Jesus shall be launched with proclamation, healing, and teaching. For now, in but a few verses, the reader is invited to affirm "the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God" (1:1). As Mark's Jesus experiences the sensations of God's presence, Mark invites the church to gather at this baptismal stage; not just to hear it, but to experience it; to experience the divine sonship of Christ.
As Mark tells it, all of creation gathers at that stage. With the Genesis text serving as a prayer of adoration, and as the church ponders Mark's narrative of the heavens breaking open, our witness to the lordship of Christ moves beyond a low Sunday in the middle of January. Opportunity abounds for glorious worship. It may not be Easter in winter, but the church is invited to gather at the Jordan River, and while splashing in the waters of grace, we shall be overwhelmed once again by the magnitude of God's love. It is the love we experience through Jesus Christ, the Beloved Son.
Alternative Applications
1) Acts 19:1-9. The story of Apollos told by Luke in the book of Acts offers a lesson in theological humility. The narrative should encourage critical discernment in congregations and traditions where claims to the right answer are unduly elevated. While the wise advice that comes from Priscilla and Aquila and the baptismal correction offered by Paul indicate that Apollos wasn't without error in his thought and work, the text describes his less than perfect effort in positive ways. With the broken vessel of his preaching and baptizing, a vessel that clearly included some theological holes, Apollos was able to show Jesus as the Messiah. Far too often in the church it seems that it is more important to be right than to humbly affirm one's desire to further the kingdom of God.
2) Acts 19:1-9. Luke's description of the baptismal experience of the 12 believers in Ephesus seems to offer an affirmation of baptism into the life of Christ and baptism as a sign of the in-breaking of the kingdom of God. A full development of the differences between John's baptism and baptism in the name of Jesus sounds more like a thesis paper than a sermon. No doubt many pastors will try. However, Paul's encounter in Ephesus reads less like doctrinal correction and more like an acknowledgment of the life and world transforming action that comes in the death and resurrection of Christ. For Paul, baptism in the name of Christ is all about putting on Christ. Yes, it is the Holy Spirit. Yes, it is beyond a baptism of repentance. For in Paul's thought, it is a baptism for an apocalyptic age. Baptism is a sign of that ever present, yet still coming kingdom of God. Those who are baptized in Christ join that movement of faith that proclaims the Lord's death and resurrection. To put on Christ at baptism with such talk of kingdom powers and worlds transformed is to have the baptized become the proclaimers.
First Lesson Focus
Genesis 1:1-5
It is something of an enigma as to why this particular text has become the stated lesson for the Sunday celebrating Jesus' baptism. One can only attribute it to a misunderstanding of the Genesis text. In the liturgy of many of our churches, the following words form the beginning of the rite of baptism: 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 baptismal ritual then goes on to speak of water in the time of Noah that destroyed evil, of the passage through the sea at the exodus, of Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, etc. Thus, water is seen as a good gift, although very clearly in Genesis 1, it is not good at all. Rather, it is the symbol (in Genesis 1 and throughout the scriptures) of evil, darkness, disorder, and death; hardly a gift for which we should thank God.
Similarly, the baptismal liturgy has the Spirit moving over the chaotic waters to call forth order and life. But that is not true to Genesis 1; it is not the Spirit that calls forth life but rather the Word of God. In every instance, the words are, "And God said ..." and by those words, some aspect of the world is created. The Spirit in Genesis 1:2 is not the agent of creation. Rather, the word for "spirit" in the Hebrew is ruach, which can also have the meaning of "wind," and the picture in our text is therefore of a stormy wind blowing over the face of the dark chaotic waters. There is no form, no order, no light, no goodness -- the earth is tohu wabbohu, "without form and void," which is the nearest the Hebrew can come to say that there is nothingness. And God's act of creation consists in bringing something out of nothing, and of bringing order into the evil emptiness of chaos (cf. Isaiah 45:18-19). As Isaiah 45:18 states, God "did not create it a chaos, he formed it to be inhabited." God willed that there be order in his universe, that miraculous order that our physicists often describe as "beautiful" and that never ceases to be a constant source of our wonder and awe. God willed that his creation be "very good" (Genesis 1:31), and if there is disorder and evil in the world, they did not come from the Creator.
Perhaps that thought is the important link to the story of the baptism of our Lord. When Jesus is baptized in the Jordan by John, God anoints his Son, who is God's final, decisive way of restoring order and goodness to his world. We human beings have corrupted God's good creation. We have even corrupted the natural world -- witness our ecological crisis -- although by a common grace God maintains much of its amazing order for us. But in Jesus Christ, the Creator sets out finally to set all things right again. He begins the decisive work of restoring his creation to the goodness that he intended for it in the beginning. Thus God, who in the beginning brought life and order into the chaos and void, in his Son works decisively to restore that goodness to his creation.
It is noteworthy in our text that the first act of our Creator God is to speak the words, "Let there be light." And light is created. The Word of God works to bring about that of which it speaks. Further, God sees that the light is good.
But we should be aware of the fact that the light created by the Word of God is a very special kind of light. To be sure, it is called "day," as opposed to the darkness of "night." And yet if we read farther in Genesis 1, we find the amazing fact that it is not until verses 14-19 that the Lord creates the heavenly bodies, the sun, the moon, and the stars. To our way of thinking, those heavenly bodies are the source of light on the earth. As verse 16 says, "And God made the two great lights, the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night." Then there is the little throwaway line; "He made the stars also," indicating what an effortless task it was for God to scatter the millions of stars across our heavens.
But if the sun and moon and stars are the source of light during the day and night, what kind of light is it that God creates in the beginning, according to verse three? It is a very special, unique light. It is the light given by the Word of God, and throughout the scriptures, it is differentiated from the light given by the heavenly bodies. Light from the sun and moon and stars is given to everyone on earth. So our Lord Jesus can say, "He makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good" (Matthew 5:45). Everything and everyone are given light from the sun; that is God's common grace, shed upon all.
But the light from the Word of God is given only to the faithful. Thus, Psalm 112:4 says, "Light rises in the darkness for the upright," while Proverbs 4:19 says, "The way of the wicked is deep darkness." Suffering Job mourns, "Oh, that I were as in the months of old, as in the days when God watched over me; when his lamp shone upon my head, and by his light I walked through darkness" (Job 29:2-3). In the story of the exodus, we read that the Lord caused a plague of darkness to fall over all the land of Egypt, "... but all the people of Israel had light where they dwelt" (Exodus 10:21-23). In the same manner, in the New Testament when the mob comes to seize Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, he says, "When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness" (Luke 22:53). And the author of Ephesians writes, "... we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness" (Ephesians 6:12).
The constant call in the scriptures, therefore, is, "Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord" (Isaiah 2:5), that is, let all of us walk by the Word of God that is incarnate in Jesus Christ. As the Gospel according to John proclaims, the true light that enlightens every single one of us, has come into the world in the person of our Lord (John 1:9). In him, the Word made flesh, is the light by which all of us can walk through darkness, and the life that can give to each one of us abundant and eternal life. By trust in our Lord Jesus, writes Paul, we can cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light (Romans 13:12). And then we can reflect Christ's light and be "... the light of the world ..." (Matthew 5:14). And be "... a light for the Gentiles ..." (Acts 13:47), and be among those who shine forth in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation (Philippians 2:14-16).
Yes, in his Son, Jesus Christ, the Creator of the ends of the earth set about to restore the goodness to his creation that he made for it in the beginning. And as the instrument of that restoration, he called forth once more his special light, the light given by his word that was incarnate in Christ Jesus. By living in that light, by walking in it every day, by clinging in trust to the light that is Christ and putting off the works of darkness, you and I, too, can be servants of God's transformation of his world. So come. Let us walk in the light of the Lord. Come, let us show forth his light.
The Political Pulpit
Genesis 1:1-5
The reference to God's work of creation, especially the creation of light (and subsequently of the sun), raises the ecological agenda, with special reference to the problem of global warming. Many of your parishioners already know that average temperatures have risen globally in recent years and that this has been evidenced by the fact that ice at the Arctic Circle is much thinner than it was just a few years ago. What needs to be pointed out are new findings about such developments and how recent American policies seem to exacerbate these problems. There are rich theological as well as political implications in this data.
Reporting recently on their research in the magazine Science, naturalists R. S. R. Fitter and Alastair Fitter point out that rising temperatures are causing plants to bloom weeks earlier in the spring. In Britain, 385 species of plants have flowered 4.5 to 55 days sooner than they did a decade ago. The naturalists hypothesize that some plants will begin to migrate. Some cultivated plants will become weeds. As this transpires, the Fitters argue, natural communities of plants will begin to disappear. As a result, plants will be forced to compete in ways they never had to do before. The losers will become extinct.
With the disappearance of certain plants, the food supply of some animals is likely to be threatened, which in turn might lead to the extinction of certain animal species. Animals dependent on those extinct species for food will themselves be in jeopardy. The growing holes in the food chain as a result of global warming are already apparent in the Arctic. Animals there are not swimming to warmer climates as they had before, due to rising temperatures. As a result, other animals, in the previous areas of migration, will suffer a lack of food. Could this lead to a scenario that might threaten the food supply for humans?
The earth is obviously finely tuned to maintain the various forms of life, including human beings. The created order is threatened by the warm up of the earth, news that should be proclaimed from the pulpits. The political implications deserve no less attention.
New insights into the rise of earth temperatures make clear the urgency of finding new ways to protect the ozone layer and reducing our dependence on fossil fuels which discharge carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. These new insights also challenge President Bush's environmental plans. At press time, his administration was reviewing the National Environmental Policy Act, a law that imposes significant strictures on decisions about lumbering in national forests. The Bush agenda is to cut through the bureaucracy and the mandated studies of the environmental impact of felling trees.
As a result, decisions to fell trees will be made without full attention to the food chain. Bush spokespersons insist the reason for reversing old policies is to clear the forests threatened by potential wildfires. But, could it be Republicans paying debts to the logging industry? Examining the wonders of Creation cannot help but direct Christians to examine issues of business and political ethics.
Those of us who have the privilege of celebrating the sacrament of baptism know how difficult it is to experience and accept Kierkegaard's paradigm shift. When we approach the baptistery or stand at the font, all eyes (and video cameras) are on us. With a baby in arms, what pastor hasn't noticed the rapt attention offered to the infant? Who would not feel like it's a stage?
Not too long ago I baptized a baby whose calm presence and constant stare startled me. She rested comfortably in my arms and seemed so attentive to my voice. She looked right into my eyes. For a time I found myself forgetting the crowd who was watching. I turned to look up at the ceiling to see if it was only a spotlight that grabbed her attention. In the holiness of the moment, I forgot about baptism's stage. Or perhaps this infant's countenance reminded me of that divine audience: the God who attends our frail performance of baptism, our celebration of his grace. Every now and then, the church ought to remember the greater audience who welcomes the liturgy of our worship.
This Sunday in January the liturgical cycle takes us to the baptism of Jesus. The lectionary texts themselves may invite a primer on baptismal doctrine. A preacher may remember how many times the question has come: "So why did Jesus have to be baptized?" Some may choose to rehash the historical, theological debates about the sonship of Christ; pre-existence or adoption or announcement of public ministry. Through it all, the baptism of Jesus takes place on creation's stage. The Gospel accounts tell of a liturgy of the Lord's baptism that affirms a cosmic setting. When it comes to the baptism of Jesus -- and ours -- we need a bigger stage.
Genesis 1:1-5
In her First Lesson Focus, Dr. Achtemeier questions the selection of the Genesis passage for this Baptism of the Lord Sunday. The preacher will want to reflect upon her suggestion that the water described in these first verses should be compared to the darkness and the void. In trying to find connections to the liturgy of baptism and the focus of discipleship, Dr. Achtemeier works with the image of light. Playing with some of the operative characters in creation's story, water and light, the preacher may choose to proclaim that baptismal affirmation of life in Christ.
The place of the Old Testament lesson may play a role in worship beyond that of the sermon. These familiar words that ring out "In the beginning" can be invoked in worship as affirmation, or read in the fashion of a litany. In some sense, Genesis 1:1-5 read in worship may stand beyond interpretation. Those opening phrases framed as a call to worship may simply tag something of the larger context in which the congregation may ponder the baptism of Jesus. For instance, as the preacher turns to the gospel story of the Lord's baptism, the Genesis text reflects notions of the cosmic Christ, the Lord of all creation, the first born of all creation (Colossians 1:15ff). The one who comes to be baptized by John is the first and the last, the Alpha and the Omega (Revelation 1:8). When read in worship, the first verses of Genesis carry something of the weight of the larger story of God's faithfulness and our salvation. One familiar story (creation) informs another familiar story (the baptism of Jesus).
In a similar way, the words from Genesis simply invite creation's presence. Like a hymn that tells of creation singing, or like that morning walk that sparks the heart to sing thanks for another day, these most familiar verses affirm creation's attentiveness in response to the person and work of Christ. This same creation that groans while waiting for the one who subjected it in hope (Romans 8:19-23) is the creation that stands to witness the Lord's baptism by John. To invoke creation's story in worship is to frame the bigger picture of the lordship of Christ and God's plan of salvation. As the congregation pauses with the Creator over the formless void of the earth, so too, we gather at the Jordan River. All of creation pauses to witness the baptismal event. The Gospels will tell of creation's participation, but here with a reading from Genesis, creation is invited to the stage where the drama of salvation unfolds.
Acts 19:1-7
The assignment from Acts on this Sunday of the Lord's baptism does not benefit from other readings from Acts on preceding Sundays. Because of the nature of this first Sunday after Epiphany and the specific focus on the gospel reading, preacher and congregation must drop into the Acts of the Apostles in the middle of a story. Some background information about this third missionary journey of Paul is helpful. A simple reading through the prior chapters provides the necessary information and sets up Paul's longer stay in Ephesus mentioned in chapter 19. For the purposes of this particular Sunday, the information about Apollos told in the last five verses of chapter 18 seems important. Apollos is described as eloquent and well-versed in scripture. He had been instructed in the Way of the Lord and he spoke with enthusiasm and taught accurately. Apollos is not a passing street preacher who simply stirs the pot. He has the background, the education, the experience, and the faith. The baptismal confusion of the 19th chapter must be read in light of the character and qualifications of Apollos. He benefits in his own understanding and reveals a humility of thought as he learns from Priscilla and Aquila. His own ministry, becoming more passionate as he helped those who had become disciples, powerfully refuted the Jews and used the scriptures to show that Jesus was the Messiah (18:24-28).
Some try to suggest that the "burning enthusiasm" of Apollos comes more from his own rhetoric than from the presence of the Holy Spirit. Others try to wrestle with descriptions of Apollos' own accuracy which must then be corrected by Priscilla and Aquila. Beyond word dissection, the story of Apollos seems to recount a journey of growth, humility, and learning. While he must not have been getting everything right, his ministry was influencing many and leading them to an encounter with the Messiah. At the very least, the end of chapter 18 seems to set up the baptismal confusion in chapter 19 as a significant challenge. Baptismal doctrine no doubt challenged the New Testament church as it has challenged the church ever since.
The first seven verses of chapter 19 are those assigned for this Sunday. Upon his arrival in Ephesus, now separated from Apollos in time and distance, Paul comes upon some disciples. Given the context of doctrinal confusion, the use of the term "disciples" is challenging. The designation of full-fledged believers is certainly not implied by the encounter. The reader may conclude this gathering of followers in Ephesus were disciples of John. Paul affirms that John served as a witness to the One who was to come after. The doctrinal correction, so to speak, involves not only baptism and Holy Spirit, but also the difference between following John and experiencing life in Christ. Paul offers a paradigm shift from John to a baptism of repentance to Jesus and the in-breaking presence of the Holy Spirit. The two gifts listed as evidence of the Spirit (tongues and prophecy) should not be considered exhaustive. The tangible evidence of the Spirit affirms the existence of the kingdom of God, claimed in light of baptism in the name of Jesus.
The challenges of Paul's life in Ephesus are described in the verses that follow. In furthering the story in Acts, Luke tells of Paul preaching, arguing, and spreading the Word of the Lord. The account also lists miracles, healings, and exorcisms. The response grew as lives and entire households were transformed. Book burnings marked the not so subtle shifts of philosophy and culture. As Luke tells it, "So the word of the Lord grew mightily and prevailed" (Acts 19:20). But all of it began in Ephesus with the clarification of the practices and beliefs surrounding baptism. At its root that clarification must say less about baptismal perfection in terms of doctrine and practice and more about an exhortation to a Spirit-filled life in Christ.
Mark 1:4-11
The Mark reading revisits the gospel reading for the Second Sunday of Advent. With this assignment, lectionary users also begin a steady journey through Mark's Gospel. Preachers who have been here before will look for Mark's brevity. We find ourselves searching for signs of that messianic secret. We expect the disciples to look a bit less "put together." We will watch for the vocabulary of Mark that immediately grabs our attention. The narrative that tells of the baptism of Jesus, as briefly recorded as it is, provides a typical brush with Mark's Gospel. The first few verses reintroduce the reader/listener to the character of John the Baptist. On this particular Sunday, it seems that the introduction serves to set up the scene at the baptism of Jesus rather than to focus on the person of John. By that brief description we now know of the wilderness, the crowds, John's dress and diet, and the content of his message; baptism is for the forgiveness of sins and the one coming after is more powerful. Mark's John the Baptist refers to the baptismal practice of Jesus in terms of the Holy Spirit. The mention of baptism by fire is left to other Gospel writers.
Mark describes the baptism itself in just a few verses. No conversation is recorded between Jesus and John the Baptist. Based on Mark's words, the baptism was a multi-sensory experience for Jesus. His body came up out of the water. With his eyes he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove. And Jesus heard the voice of God speaking from heaven. The depth of the experience of Jesus is overshadowed by Mark's description of the heavens' tearing apart. That violent image of being ripped apart matches Mark's language used at the crucifixion to describe the curtain of the temple being torn in two (15:38). The Lord's own sensory experience parallels an experience in creation itself that can be touched and felt. And the words from heaven match those offered at the Transfiguration (9:2-8). The affirmation of God that anoints Jesus for his passion is that same affirmation that rains down from heaven in preparation for his public ministry. Both the heavenly voice and the ripped heavens reflect the cosmic, divine character of this baptism in the Jordan.
Interestingly, when the lectionary comes back to the first chapter of Mark in a few weeks, the next scene that describes Jesus in the wilderness is skipped. No doubt we will return to the temptations in Lent. But the interpreter looking for a challenge may want to ponder the Spirit's work and the trip into the wilderness. At the very least, Mark's use of the word "immediately" forces us to consider the connections and transitions that pass so easily. Before beginning his public ministry of proclamation, teaching, and healing, Jesus' baptismal initiation takes him into the wilderness of John the Baptist. It is the wilderness of the Old Testament wanderings of the Exodus. The public ministry of Jesus, although announced at his baptism, begins only after an encounter with the darkness of the wilderness. The proclamation of Jesus doesn't start right at the cosmic, divine encounter of the Jordan River. It comes out of the depth and symbolism of the wilderness.
Application
Mark's narrative that tells of the baptism of Jesus is so typically brief that it invites the support of the worship context. Those planning worship may choose to recount the event with a hymn or emphasize the themes in a corporate prayer. The influence of this Sunday of the Lord's Baptism rarely moves beyond the sermon topic for the day. However, the magnitude of the event, even as it is described by Mark, warrants a bit more attention in the design and plan of our worship. No doubt a doctrinal sermon on one's tradition of baptism can be developed from the texts for the day. Beginning with Paul himself, history shows that debates about baptism practice in the church are a given. Preachers may choose to tackle the question of a second baptism of the Holy Spirit. Some will want to explore the absence of a "baptism of fire" in Mark's language. There is a possibility of addressing the difference between a baptism for the forgiveness of sins and the broader baptism in the name of Jesus. Sermon after sermon could explain the place of the Lord's baptism in his own self-awareness as Son of God. No doubt teaching sermons on the sacrament of baptism are necessary and not as common as they should be.
However, this text from Mark is so succinct. The few details are there for the taking. The preacher could expand on baptism, even struggling with theological issues not directly addressed in the text. Or the preacher could settle for focusing on what is there: dripping water, heavens torn open, the Holy Spirit's dove, and a voice from heaven. In Mark's account, conflict arises in no time. The ministry of Jesus shall be launched with proclamation, healing, and teaching. For now, in but a few verses, the reader is invited to affirm "the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God" (1:1). As Mark's Jesus experiences the sensations of God's presence, Mark invites the church to gather at this baptismal stage; not just to hear it, but to experience it; to experience the divine sonship of Christ.
As Mark tells it, all of creation gathers at that stage. With the Genesis text serving as a prayer of adoration, and as the church ponders Mark's narrative of the heavens breaking open, our witness to the lordship of Christ moves beyond a low Sunday in the middle of January. Opportunity abounds for glorious worship. It may not be Easter in winter, but the church is invited to gather at the Jordan River, and while splashing in the waters of grace, we shall be overwhelmed once again by the magnitude of God's love. It is the love we experience through Jesus Christ, the Beloved Son.
Alternative Applications
1) Acts 19:1-9. The story of Apollos told by Luke in the book of Acts offers a lesson in theological humility. The narrative should encourage critical discernment in congregations and traditions where claims to the right answer are unduly elevated. While the wise advice that comes from Priscilla and Aquila and the baptismal correction offered by Paul indicate that Apollos wasn't without error in his thought and work, the text describes his less than perfect effort in positive ways. With the broken vessel of his preaching and baptizing, a vessel that clearly included some theological holes, Apollos was able to show Jesus as the Messiah. Far too often in the church it seems that it is more important to be right than to humbly affirm one's desire to further the kingdom of God.
2) Acts 19:1-9. Luke's description of the baptismal experience of the 12 believers in Ephesus seems to offer an affirmation of baptism into the life of Christ and baptism as a sign of the in-breaking of the kingdom of God. A full development of the differences between John's baptism and baptism in the name of Jesus sounds more like a thesis paper than a sermon. No doubt many pastors will try. However, Paul's encounter in Ephesus reads less like doctrinal correction and more like an acknowledgment of the life and world transforming action that comes in the death and resurrection of Christ. For Paul, baptism in the name of Christ is all about putting on Christ. Yes, it is the Holy Spirit. Yes, it is beyond a baptism of repentance. For in Paul's thought, it is a baptism for an apocalyptic age. Baptism is a sign of that ever present, yet still coming kingdom of God. Those who are baptized in Christ join that movement of faith that proclaims the Lord's death and resurrection. To put on Christ at baptism with such talk of kingdom powers and worlds transformed is to have the baptized become the proclaimers.
First Lesson Focus
Genesis 1:1-5
It is something of an enigma as to why this particular text has become the stated lesson for the Sunday celebrating Jesus' baptism. One can only attribute it to a misunderstanding of the Genesis text. In the liturgy of many of our churches, the following words form the beginning of the rite of baptism: 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 baptismal ritual then goes on to speak of water in the time of Noah that destroyed evil, of the passage through the sea at the exodus, of Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, etc. Thus, water is seen as a good gift, although very clearly in Genesis 1, it is not good at all. Rather, it is the symbol (in Genesis 1 and throughout the scriptures) of evil, darkness, disorder, and death; hardly a gift for which we should thank God.
Similarly, the baptismal liturgy has the Spirit moving over the chaotic waters to call forth order and life. But that is not true to Genesis 1; it is not the Spirit that calls forth life but rather the Word of God. In every instance, the words are, "And God said ..." and by those words, some aspect of the world is created. The Spirit in Genesis 1:2 is not the agent of creation. Rather, the word for "spirit" in the Hebrew is ruach, which can also have the meaning of "wind," and the picture in our text is therefore of a stormy wind blowing over the face of the dark chaotic waters. There is no form, no order, no light, no goodness -- the earth is tohu wabbohu, "without form and void," which is the nearest the Hebrew can come to say that there is nothingness. And God's act of creation consists in bringing something out of nothing, and of bringing order into the evil emptiness of chaos (cf. Isaiah 45:18-19). As Isaiah 45:18 states, God "did not create it a chaos, he formed it to be inhabited." God willed that there be order in his universe, that miraculous order that our physicists often describe as "beautiful" and that never ceases to be a constant source of our wonder and awe. God willed that his creation be "very good" (Genesis 1:31), and if there is disorder and evil in the world, they did not come from the Creator.
Perhaps that thought is the important link to the story of the baptism of our Lord. When Jesus is baptized in the Jordan by John, God anoints his Son, who is God's final, decisive way of restoring order and goodness to his world. We human beings have corrupted God's good creation. We have even corrupted the natural world -- witness our ecological crisis -- although by a common grace God maintains much of its amazing order for us. But in Jesus Christ, the Creator sets out finally to set all things right again. He begins the decisive work of restoring his creation to the goodness that he intended for it in the beginning. Thus God, who in the beginning brought life and order into the chaos and void, in his Son works decisively to restore that goodness to his creation.
It is noteworthy in our text that the first act of our Creator God is to speak the words, "Let there be light." And light is created. The Word of God works to bring about that of which it speaks. Further, God sees that the light is good.
But we should be aware of the fact that the light created by the Word of God is a very special kind of light. To be sure, it is called "day," as opposed to the darkness of "night." And yet if we read farther in Genesis 1, we find the amazing fact that it is not until verses 14-19 that the Lord creates the heavenly bodies, the sun, the moon, and the stars. To our way of thinking, those heavenly bodies are the source of light on the earth. As verse 16 says, "And God made the two great lights, the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night." Then there is the little throwaway line; "He made the stars also," indicating what an effortless task it was for God to scatter the millions of stars across our heavens.
But if the sun and moon and stars are the source of light during the day and night, what kind of light is it that God creates in the beginning, according to verse three? It is a very special, unique light. It is the light given by the Word of God, and throughout the scriptures, it is differentiated from the light given by the heavenly bodies. Light from the sun and moon and stars is given to everyone on earth. So our Lord Jesus can say, "He makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good" (Matthew 5:45). Everything and everyone are given light from the sun; that is God's common grace, shed upon all.
But the light from the Word of God is given only to the faithful. Thus, Psalm 112:4 says, "Light rises in the darkness for the upright," while Proverbs 4:19 says, "The way of the wicked is deep darkness." Suffering Job mourns, "Oh, that I were as in the months of old, as in the days when God watched over me; when his lamp shone upon my head, and by his light I walked through darkness" (Job 29:2-3). In the story of the exodus, we read that the Lord caused a plague of darkness to fall over all the land of Egypt, "... but all the people of Israel had light where they dwelt" (Exodus 10:21-23). In the same manner, in the New Testament when the mob comes to seize Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, he says, "When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness" (Luke 22:53). And the author of Ephesians writes, "... we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness" (Ephesians 6:12).
The constant call in the scriptures, therefore, is, "Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord" (Isaiah 2:5), that is, let all of us walk by the Word of God that is incarnate in Jesus Christ. As the Gospel according to John proclaims, the true light that enlightens every single one of us, has come into the world in the person of our Lord (John 1:9). In him, the Word made flesh, is the light by which all of us can walk through darkness, and the life that can give to each one of us abundant and eternal life. By trust in our Lord Jesus, writes Paul, we can cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light (Romans 13:12). And then we can reflect Christ's light and be "... the light of the world ..." (Matthew 5:14). And be "... a light for the Gentiles ..." (Acts 13:47), and be among those who shine forth in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation (Philippians 2:14-16).
Yes, in his Son, Jesus Christ, the Creator of the ends of the earth set about to restore the goodness to his creation that he made for it in the beginning. And as the instrument of that restoration, he called forth once more his special light, the light given by his word that was incarnate in Christ Jesus. By living in that light, by walking in it every day, by clinging in trust to the light that is Christ and putting off the works of darkness, you and I, too, can be servants of God's transformation of his world. So come. Let us walk in the light of the Lord. Come, let us show forth his light.
The Political Pulpit
Genesis 1:1-5
The reference to God's work of creation, especially the creation of light (and subsequently of the sun), raises the ecological agenda, with special reference to the problem of global warming. Many of your parishioners already know that average temperatures have risen globally in recent years and that this has been evidenced by the fact that ice at the Arctic Circle is much thinner than it was just a few years ago. What needs to be pointed out are new findings about such developments and how recent American policies seem to exacerbate these problems. There are rich theological as well as political implications in this data.
Reporting recently on their research in the magazine Science, naturalists R. S. R. Fitter and Alastair Fitter point out that rising temperatures are causing plants to bloom weeks earlier in the spring. In Britain, 385 species of plants have flowered 4.5 to 55 days sooner than they did a decade ago. The naturalists hypothesize that some plants will begin to migrate. Some cultivated plants will become weeds. As this transpires, the Fitters argue, natural communities of plants will begin to disappear. As a result, plants will be forced to compete in ways they never had to do before. The losers will become extinct.
With the disappearance of certain plants, the food supply of some animals is likely to be threatened, which in turn might lead to the extinction of certain animal species. Animals dependent on those extinct species for food will themselves be in jeopardy. The growing holes in the food chain as a result of global warming are already apparent in the Arctic. Animals there are not swimming to warmer climates as they had before, due to rising temperatures. As a result, other animals, in the previous areas of migration, will suffer a lack of food. Could this lead to a scenario that might threaten the food supply for humans?
The earth is obviously finely tuned to maintain the various forms of life, including human beings. The created order is threatened by the warm up of the earth, news that should be proclaimed from the pulpits. The political implications deserve no less attention.
New insights into the rise of earth temperatures make clear the urgency of finding new ways to protect the ozone layer and reducing our dependence on fossil fuels which discharge carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. These new insights also challenge President Bush's environmental plans. At press time, his administration was reviewing the National Environmental Policy Act, a law that imposes significant strictures on decisions about lumbering in national forests. The Bush agenda is to cut through the bureaucracy and the mandated studies of the environmental impact of felling trees.
As a result, decisions to fell trees will be made without full attention to the food chain. Bush spokespersons insist the reason for reversing old policies is to clear the forests threatened by potential wildfires. But, could it be Republicans paying debts to the logging industry? Examining the wonders of Creation cannot help but direct Christians to examine issues of business and political ethics.
