Text: Mark 1:4-11
Last week, we invited you to follow the star of the Magi…
Not the one in the sky, but the one in the manger.
The one who drew them over mountains and deserts and seas.
I love how the Message translation makes clear that the object we are seeking and following is none other than Jesus.
“The star in this drama,” John the Baptist says, “will change your life.”
John called people to the river to confess and repent.
To wash away their old life and make a commitment to a new one.
It was a simple invitation and people were drawn by this call.
They were eager to embrace this tangible, physical, vigorous act of letting themselves be washed clean.
As the cold water drifted by them, the current took their sins away.
Wouldn’t it be amazing if it was that easy?
Just hop in the river and everything is better?
But even John the Baptizer knew this wasn’t the end of the story.
It wasn’t enough.
You couldn’t just say “I’m sorry.”
You actually had to start living differently and there was only one person who had the power to change people from the inside-out.
So he started preparing people for the true star of this show, the mighty and powerful one who would wash people not with water, but with the very Spirit of God.
And then, Jesus appeared.
He showed up at that very same river and spot and he was baptized, too.
Mark tells us that Jesus saw the heavens open and the Holy Spirit come down.
Like a dove diving from the heavens it rested upon him.
And then there was a voice.
“You are my son.
You are chosen and marked by my love.
You are the pride of my life.“
If last week, the star word we focused on was epiphany, this week it is identity.
And clearly, we discover the identity of Jesus in this passage.
God makes it pretty clear who this guy standing in the water is.
God’s Son.
Beloved.
Delightful.
But if this was the identity of Jesus Christ, why did he need to be baptized?
Why did he enter the water in the first place?
Certainly not because he needed to repent or because he was unclean.
No… Jesus entered the water for us.
He stepped into the water so that you could enter the water.
So that you could let go of your sins.
So that we might be made sons and daughters and children of God.
So that the Holy Spirit might descend and flow into our lives.
As the Orthodox baptismal liturgy asserts: “He emerges from the waters and uplifts the world with Him.”
You see, baptism began as a simple ritual washing, but it was transformed by Christ in this holy and sacred moment into a mark that is stamped on your soul and can never go away.
“You are mine,” God says.
“You are beloved,” God says.
“Don’t you ever forget how proud I am of you.”
This is who you are now.
This is your very identity.
Chosen and beloved of God.
Martin Luther once said that every time we wash our hands or our face we should remember our baptism.
Every time we should remember that we are a child of God.
In fact, he was known to often make the sign of a cross on his forehead and whisper softly to himself, “I am baptized.”
That might be easy to remember on the days when the sun is shining and all is right with the world, but it is something we need to remember on the tough days as well.
And, well, we’ve known some tough days lately.
Wednesday, as I was working on writing and praying over the star words that we mailed out this week I got a notification from a colleague that said, “turn on your television.”
I sat at my desk shaking, stunned by the images unfolding on the screen.
T-shirts celebrating the holocaust, the confederate flag paraded through the halls of congress, the large cross being erected on the lawn.
And so many were quick to say: “this is not who we are.”
Except, it is.
This world is broken, and bleeding, and bruised…
As my colleague Diane Kenaston wrote, “This is exactly who we are. We’re shaped by white supremacy, lust for power, violence, scapegoating, fear, and individualism. We’re shaped by sin. And it’s for that reason that we need the transforming love of God… This is who we are, but this is not who we have to be.”
We are called to claim an identity that calls us to love and serve and heal and forgive.
“You are mine,” God says. “You are beloved…. Don’t forget it.”
In the act of baptism in our tradition, it is not simply that God’s Spirit washes over us.
God gives us the power to actually be different.
And so with God’s help, we take vows.
We make promises to reject spiritual evil and the forces of this world.
We promise to resist injustice and oppression.
We promise to stand with God not political leaders… of either party.
We promise to trust in God’s grace.
And all of that becomes part of our identity, too.
Sometimes we are called to do that in small ways. Nadia Bolz-Weber writes:
“The first move of the devil is always the same. Attack your identity as the beloved with whom God is well pleased… nowhere are we more prone to encroaching darkness than when we are stepping into the light. If you have ever experienced sudden discouragement in the midst of healthy decisions, or if there is a toxic thought that will always send you spiraling down, or if there is a particular temptation that is your weakness, then I make the following suggestion: take a note from Martin Luther’s playbook and defiantly shout back at this darkness “I am Baptized”…”
She goes on to recount how when faced with his own doubt and discouragement Luther was known to throw ink pots or other small items in whatever direction he felt a sense of spiritual malevolence… he could sometimes be heard throughout the castle shouting “I AM BAPTIZED!”
I have to admit that this sermon was not only complete, but had already been printed and mailed out to about fifty households when I turned on the news on Wednesday afternoon.
And as I sat there at my desk I found myself whispering to myself… I am baptized… I am baptized…
But I also wondered how many of the people in that crowd had been baptized, too.
I wondered about how that moment might have been different if their pastor had told them that celebrating the holocaust was evil.
Or if their Sunday School teacher had commented on their facebook post and challenged their white supremacy.
Or if they had heard a sermon that made it clear our allegiance is to God and not the leaders of this world.
Or maybe if there had been someone in their life besides the leader of our country who told them… You are loved. You are special.
And then I wondered whether I had actually done… or if I have failed to do those things.
Where have I been complicit in this moment.
The words of my dear friend and colleague, Rev. Diane Kenaston keep ringing through my head.
“This is who we are, but this is not who we have to be.”
And as we come to these waters, we remember the identity that God calls us to embody.
And God gives us the strength to face the world in all of its reality.
Good and bad.
Tragedy and pain.
Joy and celebration.
And the Holy Spirit helps us to say yes to the things that bring life and no to the things that bring death.
But we cannot do it without our baptisms.
We cannot do it if we forget that the Spirit has our back.
“You are mine,” God says. “Chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life.”
In the midst of everything that is wrong, God pours sanctifying grace into our lives so that we can be different.
So that we can remember that we belong to God and that others belong to God, too.
So when violence breaks out we can stand for peace with justice and accountability.
When pain is felt, we can listen to the hurt and offer comfort without being overwhelmed.
When evil rears its ugly head, we can stand up, and let God shine through us.
And when we have failed, God forgives and renews and gives us the grace to try again.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
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