Going Down to the River
The Baptism of Christ, 2021
Acts 19:1-7 • Mark 1:4-11
What a week.... I know we have all reeled, and probably still are reeling, in shock and revulsion at the appalling events in Washington. Throughout these last four years, we have become increasingly aware of the ugly, destructive far right, white supremacist, Christian Nationalist sentiments seething in our nation. We feared what it might look like if it came into full focus. And when it did, it was worse than we could have imagined: whipped into a frenzy by a sitting president without conscience or morals.
We need to be angry about the actions of a few, and we need to grieve what we have lost.
Who could have imagined that the heart of our nation would be cracked open, this season of Epiphany, this season of revelation? Cracked open, unveiling the ugly truth about the extent of this sickness in our society. A truth that we might have wanted to downplay, diminish, but that we no longer can.
We have found comfort where we can: in the rhetoric of the incoming administration, promising to honor the dignity of every human being; in actions around the country to reprimand and limit the actions of those participating in the desecration of the Capitol. We have found comfort reaching out to each other, and in praying together.
There is strength in facing reality. As the author James Baldwin wrote:
“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
Particularly since the beginning of the Black Lives Matter movement in 2012, with the shooting of Trayvon Martin, we have become increasingly aware and active in facing the racism rampant in our society. The violence against those not identifying as white has continued, unabated. As was pointed out last week: the response, or non-response of the police and armed forces to those attacking the Capitol was vastly different to the ferocious response to the Black Lives Matter protests over the last ten years, even though the majority of those have been largely non-violent.
“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
And as I sat with our Gospel for this Sunday, it just seemed clear where we needed to go. We all need to go down to the river. If you remember, Mark tells us that ‘people from the whole Judean countryside, and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to’ John to be baptized in the river Jordan. They were going, not for a Christian baptism, they were Jews going for “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins”.
This wasn’t just a baptism of repentance for the faithful who were paying attention. This was a baptism for saints and sinners alike: the short changers, the gamblers, the racists, the smug, the self-righteous, the criminals and the cops, the hopeful and the faithful. This was an opportunity to own and make amends for any past mistakes and to be released from the burden of these into new life.
And even Jesus, the purest of the pure, comes to be baptized by John too. He too comes to be transformed. The heavens are torn apart, and the voice from heaven declares: ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Jesus chose to submerge himself in all the pain and the sin of earth, to save us: to model, teach, and support us into a life of faith. Jesus chose to directly follow and face ‘the heart of darkness’ as this morning collect tells us. And why? Because that is the only way to begin the process of change. And did he do so with face paint and horns? No. He went with dignity, knowing he was loved, and bearing ‘only the Spirit of gentle, insistent peace.’
We too need to go down to that river. We need to go with all our good intentions, our failures, our successes, and our compliance in our culture’s inequalities and injustices. We need to go, willing to accept God’s love and forgiveness, that has been ours since the beginning of time. We need to go, a people willing to be changed by God.
After this sermon, we will get an opportunity to renew our Baptismal Covenant. Instead of saying or singing one of our Creeds, today we will break the Apostles Creed into sections, with your responding to my questions. And as you are answering, know that you are being sprinkled with holy water, ‘asperged’ as we say in churchy language.
This is your journey to the river this morning – and you don’t even have to get your feet wet! Pay particular attention to the six questions asked of you at the end. The questions that invite your response: ‘I will with God’s help.’ These are questions asking for your engaged response:
to continue – to persevere – to proclaim
– to seek and serve – and to strive
In responding to these questions, there is no room for any contingency clauses: no ‘if there’s time’ or ‘perhaps tomorrow’. What there is instead is the invoking of the God’s promise to help us. And how can we be so certain of this? Because God loves us. All of us.
We need to be willing to face ‘the heart of darkness’, and we do not go alone. We go with the beloved community. We go with God’s love. And we follow Jesus as the risen Christ walks with us.
We are God’s beloved, and in us God is well pleased.