Jesus Stands With Us

Baptism of our Lord, Year A

Matthew 3:13-17

Feet shuffle back and forth in the dust as people position themselves to get a better view of the Jordan. They have traveled many miles to find the Baptizer, driven by a relentless hope.  Would the water cleanse them in preparation for the Day of the Lord, for God’s judgment upon an unjust world? Would God’s righteousness soon lift them all from the grip of Roman oppression? Would it loose them from bondage to want, to sickness, to their own sinful ways?

On the banks of the river, Jesus of Nazareth stands with them. He has come to enter the waters with his people, to fulfill God’s promise as spoken by the prophets: to fulfill all righteousness—to open the eyes of the blind, to free the prisoners who sit in darkness. Does Jesus know that walking into that muddy water will lead him to the cross? Does he know that to save his people, he will have to submit to the same evil powers from which he has come to free them? Even before Jesus hears the affirming words from heaven, he and his cousin John seem to know that something is being set in motion in this river that cannot be stopped.

What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss
to lay aside his crown for my soul, for my soul,
to lay aside his crown for my soul!https://hymnary.org/hymn/EH1982/439

          Seventeen hundred years later, in a red-brick church beside the Hudson River, more feet shuffle. Men and women stand in straight lines, waiting their turn to be baptized. Their bare ankles bear the imprint of the shackles that brought them to their new life in chains. Pale priests with starched collars hold basins of cold water and everlasting life. “God requires obedience above all things,” the priests piously proclaim. The priests have worked with the white masters and the governors and the bishops in far-away England to pass laws—laws that place limits on this baptism. Baptism will save your souls, they say. But it will not make you free on this earth. You are created only to work, and work, and work.

The faces of the enslaved are impassive, but their hearts are beating with the strong drumbeat of hope. No matter what stories the white priests leave out of their sermons—the freedom in God’s story seeps out around the margins. No matter what laws the white masters pass--Jesus’ promise to fulfill all righteousness remains. He comes to open the eyes of the blind; he comes to free the prisoners who sit in darkness. Not just in heaven, but here on earth. Jesus sits with them as the priests teach them to read God’s word by candlelight. Jesus walks with them as they walk to catechism classes, offering one another the rare solace of companionship. Jesus sings God’s praises with them, defiantly loosening their bonds with each joyous beat. Jesus kneels with them on the cold stone floor before the priests. “You are God’s beloved,” Jesus whispers in each ear. “With you I am well pleased.” Something is set in motion that cannot be stopped.

To God and to the Lamb I will sing, I will sing,
to God and to the Lamb I will sing.
To God and to the Lamb, who is the great I AM
while millions join the theme, I will sing, I will sing,
while millions join the theme, I will sing!

          These days, we haven’t had too many baptisms at St. Andrew’s, but we do have the Wigglebottoms. Have you seen the teens in their Wigglebottom family t-shirts? Our group of teenage girls may not know it, but in their creativity, they are doing a very Christian thing! Several years ago, as they were forming their identity as a group, they spontaneously decided to give themselves new names—and the Wigglebottoms were born! The Wigglebottoms are not a snooty clique: They generously adopt newcomers—and even adult leaders—enthusiastically bestowing new names upon them, too. They have a special naming ceremony, and they even have a covenant, a way-of-being with one another that they have all pledged to follow, with God’s help. It might all seem like a youthful game—but it looks an awful lot like baptism to me. You see, the joyful thing about being a Wigglebottom is that you are free. You are free to be yourself, to be silly or sad, to bare your soul, or ask embarrassing questions—No matter what, you will be loved and accepted for who you are. The labels placed upon you by parents and school friends fall away. For part of the day on a Sunday, you are free from all that commodifies, covers over, or airbrushes your true value in the eyes of God. These days, we haven’t had too many baptisms at St. Andrew’s, but we do have the Wigglebottoms. Something is set in motion here that cannot be stopped.

Today, all of us are about to renew our baptismal covenant. We will feel the small drops of cool water land on our hair and faces as the clergy implore, “Remember your baptism.” How do we “remember” a baptism that might have happened when we were little babies? We let our baptism “re-member” us. We let it put us back together as the beloved children that God created us to be. We let it free us from the fear of death and scarcity that turns us from God and one another. We let it wash us from the oppressing shadows that cling like cobwebs to our extended hands. We let it loosen the grip with which the powers and principalities of hatred and gratuitous consumption hold us in bondage. We stand with one another as Jesus stands with us. We recognize our wholeness in the love reflected back at us in our neighbor's eyes. Something will be set in motion that cannot be stopped.

And when from death I'm free, I'll sing on, I'll sing on,
and when from death I'm free, I'll sing on.
And when from death I'm free I'll sing and joyful be,
and through eternity I'll sing on, I'll sing on,
and through eternity I'll sing on!