Sermon:
February 27, 2005
Sunday Night Alive  

Scripture:
Mark 1:9-11

The sermon was preceded by a clip from the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou. In the scene, three convicts, Everett, Pete and Delmar, are drawn into a service of baptism that a local congregation is holding in the river. They come to a river and the minister is in the river baptizing the congregation. Everett scoffs at the ceremony. He has no faith in religion. But Delmar is captivated. He moves into the river, and the minister lowers him under the water and then brings him up. Delmar is baptized. Pete looks on incredulously and says something close to, “I’ll be a son of a gun, Delmar’s been saved.” 

And indeed Delmar has. He comes wading out of the water shouting, “I been redeemed. The preacher done washed away all my sins and transgressions. It’s the straight and narrow from here on out, and heaven everlastin’ is my reward! The preacher done said all my sins been washed away, includin’ that Piggly-Wiggly I knocked over in Yazoo.” 

Everett, who isn’t buying any of this, reminds Delmar, “I thought you said you were innocent of those charges.” 

Delmar has that look of a kid whose hands just got caught in the cookie jar, that blank “Oh boy, what am I gonna do now?” look. But then he realizes his world has changed. He smiles triumphantly and says, “Well, I was lyin’. The preacher said that sin been washed away, too. Neither God nor man has anything on me now. Come on in, boys, the water is fine!” 

“Come on in, boys! The water is fine!” The sweet water of baptism. In it are the refreshing taste of salvation and the cleansing wash of forgiveness. The waters of baptism can quench our God- shaped thirst. Its splash brings us joy. Its currents drown our self-as-god sensibilities. Its waves then let us rise again with our self-in-Christ. In the waters of our baptism we see reflections—reflections of the world as it is, reflections of the world as it will be. The waters of our baptism change us. To be baptized is to walk through life wet, soaked with God’s grace. 

The church is commanded to baptize. “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me,” Jesus said. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Tonight we continue our journey through Lent, our journey to discover our call to discipleship. And on this year’s journey, we have dedicated ourselves to looking more closely at the Great Commission, Jesus’ call to all of us to live into God’s plan to transform our lives and the world. Tonight the Great Commission asks us to consider what it means to be a baptized people, what it means to be a baptizing church. “Baptize them,” Jesus calls to us. “Get them soaking wet in the grace of God found in Christ Jesus our Lord.” This call to be a people baptized and a people baptizing is no small part of what it means to be disciples.  

United Methodist Bishop Will Willimon wrote a small book called Remember Your Baptism. “In baptism,” he writes, “we are initiated, crowned, chosen, embraced, washed, adopted, gifted, killed and thereby sent forth and redeemed. We are identified as one of God’s own, then assigned our place and our job within the kingdom of God.” There is a lot going on in the waters of our baptism. It is so much more than just some cute celebration of a child. It is so much more than a set of simple vows which adults make and then must try to keep. It is so much more. I want to tell you that I have come to believe that in our baptism, the very core of our identity as Christians is realized. It tells us who we are and it tells us whose we are. In the waters of baptism we are remembered. In the waters of baptism we remember. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them…” 

Baptize them. I think that is why I love Mark’s Gospel so much. Mark starts with the waters of baptism. He starts on the banks of the River Jordan. There in the dusty hillsides of the Galilee, in the midst of dry and parched land, dry and parched people get dipped in the living water. In Mark, there are no immaculate conceptions. There are no wise men or shepherds. No angels’ chorus. No long genealogies linking Jesus to the great messianic line. Mark begins in the water. Mark begins with baptism.  

Verse 9 tells us that one day, Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. If we were to back up a few verses, we would learn that John the Baptist had been calling folk throughout the region—from the cities and the countryside—to the River Jordan to be washed. This was no physical washing here. It was not a washing aimed only at the cosmetic, at one’s outside appearance. This wasn’t just a sprinkle of water to get the dust off one’s hands and feet. No, the scriptures make it plain that the washing John was offering was a baptism of repentance—a spiritual washing, a washing that went deep within a person. The waters of baptism that John offered aimed at washing away the sin that caked over people’s hearts and souls, the doubts that dusted their eyes, and the fear that covered up their ears. In the waters of the Jordan, John offered a chance to repent, to turn around, to turn back towards God, to turn their lives in a new direction. In the waters of baptism, John was giving people a chance to start again. If nothing else, remembering our baptism, being touched again with the waters of the sacrament we call baptism, is the opportunity to turn our lives once again back to God. And that is where Jesus’ story begins in Mark. It begins in the river. It begins by getting wet. It begins by Jesus fully immersing himself in God’s pools of grace. That is how Jesus’ story begins, and dare I say, it is how ours begins, as well. “At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.” 

If you are like me, maybe you are asking yourself, “What is Jesus doing being baptized? Why is he answering John’s call to repent?” I mean, this is Jesus, isn’t it? This is the spotless Lamb of God who takes away the sins of world, isn’t it? This is the one who knew no sin, perfect in every way, isn’t it? So what is Jesus doing responding to this call to repent? This scene in Mark’s Gospel has confused and troubled scholars throughout the centuries. How do we explain Jesus’ surprising actions? Is Jesus just going through the motions here? That doesn’t sound like Jesus. What is he doing in the water? 

Truth be told, Mark does not give us many clues, at least not the ones we are looking for. Remember, the Gospel of Mark is considered the first and oldest of the stories of Jesus. It would have been the earliest of the written stories told to later disciples of the Jesus movement. If Mark was the first gospel, then those earliest followers would not have had the details of Jesus’ early life that we now do. Unlike us, these first listeners to Mark did not have thousands of years of Christmas stories, pageants or carols to fill in the details of Jesus’ remarkable birth. No, what they had was this opening scene from Mark’s Gospel. And in these opening scenes, Jesus is just one among many who came to the Jordan to answer John’s call to turn their lives over to God. As this scene opens, Jesus does not stand out. There is no glowing halo around his head. There are no hints that in him God is about to do something unique. Although John anticipates one will come who is more powerful than he, in Mark, John does not seem to know that the one to come is Jesus. Unlike Luke and Matthew, John puts up no protest about baptizing Jesus. In Mark, Jesus comes to be baptized like all the rest. 

So, I guess if you are looking for a savior who truly knows the lives and struggles of common, everyday folks like ourselves, that is exactly how Jesus enters the story in Mark. In Jesus, God became one of us. It is like Joan Osborne sang a few years back, “What if God was one of us?” Here at the waters of his baptism, there is no mistaking that is how Jesus entered our human situation—by becoming human himself. Jesus is a face in the crowd, walking with us, answering the call that God had placed on his life.  

Jesus’ ministry began with this baptism—a ministry that placed him in the midst of people’s mistakes and misfortunes. His baptism began a ministry that would move him past judgment and regret. It took him deeper and deeper into the world of sin and sinners, until at last it took his life. On the riverbank he stepped with the crowd, then from the crowd—he identified with us, then submitted to a Spirit beyond us. Mark suggests that Jesus himself bathed in the River Jordan as a sign of repentance. But much more significantly, he bathed in the Spirit and began a new life. And in a miraculous way, the very moment of our baptism, and its remembrance, makes the same possible for us.  

Then the story moves from the banks and the crowd to the river itself. Jesus is baptized, dunked, immersed in the waters of the Jordan. As he comes up from the water, the scripture tells us that heaven opened up and the Spirit descended upon him like a dove. In that moment, something miraculous happened. Heaven and earth touched. They were joined together, reunited. In the person of Jesus Christ, the division that had existed between heaven and earth, between God and humanity, has been bridged. God and humanity are no longer at odds and Jesus will proclaim that “those who are willing to follow me, and the way that I will teach them, will experience this reality—that God is indeed for us, God is indeed with us.” Jesus’ first words, spoken right after his baptism in the Gospel of Mark, make this clear. “The time has come,” he said. “The kingdom of God is near (it is closer than you could have ever imagined). Repent (turn around, turn back, take a different path) and believe the good news (the good news that the hostility between the creator and his creation is over. We can again live as children of our creator.).” 

In this moment, as Jesus rises from the water and the heavens are opened, God speaks so that all may hear, “This is my Son whom I love and with whom I am well pleased.” This is the moment that grace enters the story. That amazing grace, how sweet it sounds. It is this promise of God’s never-failing grace poured out upon his Son that will carry Jesus through every step of his ministry—to the upper room, to the cross and to Easter. What a story! The water is poured. The heavens open. God’s promise is spoken and God’s grace enters the story.  

I want to let you in on something. I have seen that happen. I have seen the same thing with my very eyes. I have seen it happen in the sanctuary. I have seen it happen here in the CLC. I have seen it by the lakeshore and riverbank. I have seen this story come to life. I see it every time there is a baptism. Every time the water is poured, sprinkled, or a person has been immersed at a baptism, I see this same story come to life. The water is poured. The heavens are opened. God’s promise is spoken and grace enters the story. Whether it is a baby, child, teen or adult, it happens. 

But let’s be honest for a minute here. Folks bring their babies to be baptized for lots of reasons, don’t they? I mean, one can never really tell why they are doing it. Many do it because they feel like it is what is expected of them. It will make grandma happy, and even though I probably won’t be back in church anytime soon, for now this baptizing thing is what you are supposed to do, right? Besides, there is that page in the scrapbook we don’t want to be empty, now do we? Others come to be baptized, or have their child baptized, to get some fire insurance. You know, the just-in-case kind of stuff. True enough. Not everybody comes to the moment of baptism, or brings someone to the moment of baptism, with the intention of it leading to a life of discipleship—a journey that often includes crosses to bear. But I want to tell you, it does not seem to matter.  

Since joining this staff, I have witnessed Dr. Ritter do dozens of baptisms in the morning services. And every time, without fail, I see it happen. I see water poured. I see heaven open. I see a promise spoken. And I see grace enter the story. It does not seem to matter. I mean, seldom do I know the parents who bring the child forward. I do not know their stories or motivations. But when the waters are poured and the prayers are offered, I watch the eyes of the parents, and I can see it. I can see the tear. It is a tear of hope for this child they love so much. A tear of hope mixed with fear that they, as parents, will not be able to provide and protect this little one from the dangers and harshness of the world. And a tear also mixed with a trust that, in that moment, God enters the life of their child and their family. I see it every time. It is a true story, and I have witnessed it in the waters of baptism over and over again. 

For those of us who were baptized as infants, it is important to know that God’s grace entered our story before we could do anything about it. Do not miss the power in that statement. God’s grace entered our story before we could do anything about it. God’s grace has walked with us every step of the way—even when we didn’t know it, even when we refused it, even when we were living contrary to it. God’s grace has been ever-present in our story. And grace changes everything. Everything, when touched by the grace of God, is transformed. Without grace, where we would we be? 

Knowledge without grace is arrogance.
Growth without grace is destruction.
Leadership without grace is tyranny.
Wealth without grace is greed.
Sex without grace is empty.
Marriage without grace will not last.
Theology without grace is law.
Conversion without grace is intimidation.
Preaching without grace is coercion.
The church without grace is lost.
The Bible without grace is dangerous.
Mistakes without grace are fatal.
Sin without grace is death.
Life without grace is doomed.
The cross without grace is execution.
Baptism without grace is ritual.
Easter without grace is impossible.

And in the waters of baptism, God’s grace is freely given. 

On November 28, 1971, my parents brought me to the waters of baptism. It happened in a small Presbyterian Church in a little rural town called Cornell in western Wisconsin. I do not remember it. I do not know the story behind it. I do not know if I cried when the water was placed on my head. I do not know if I squirmed. I do not know the name of pastor who did the pouring and praying. I do not know if the congregation oohed and awed. I do not know if my mom cried. I do not know why my parents brought me to be baptized. I do not know what my baptism meant to them before, during or after. There is much I do not know. So I guess there is little for me to remember. 

But what I do know is that on that day, I was baptized just like Jesus was. I do know that the water was poured, that the heavens were opened and that God spoke the promise, “This is my child, whom I love; with whom I am well pleased.” I do know that on that day, God’s grace entered my story—a grace that has saved my life, transformed my life, added joy and meaning to my life, and has made my life worth living. That much I know, and those are the things I dare not ever forget. The water was poured. The heavens were opened. The promise was spoken. And grace entered my story. 

To answer God’s call to discipleship, we will be called to be both a baptized and baptizing people. And it is not just about getting wet or doing the ritual. It is much, much deeper than that. It is conferring on a world the truth of the baptismal promise, “We are children of God whom God loves and finds great favor.” We are children of God. There is nothing we can do to add to that. And in a world that recognizes worth in wealth, prestige, fame, appearance, race, gender and dozens upon dozens of other categories, it is in the baptismal water that we all find the very ground of our being in the God who calls us his own. We cannot add or detract from that central truth of our lives. We are children of God, and we can only live in and live out what God has already done for us in the waters of our baptism. 

Tonight we are called to remember—to remember our baptisms, to help each other remember their own, and to go out into the world and tell people of the springs of living water we have found in our relationship with God and with one another. Dunked, sprinkled, immersed, adult, baby…by whatever means necessary…let’s help the world remember who we are and whose we are. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”