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| Jordan River entering the Sea of Galilee. |
Isaiah 43: 1-7 & Luke 3:
15-17, 21-22
Baptism of the
Lord, 13 January 2012
We
don’t know where Jesus was baptized, but we know it took place near the Jordan
River. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and even
John all agree that Jesus’ baptism took place along or in the Jordan. Today, several sites claim to be the
site for Jesus’ baptism: one is near Jericho in the West Bank (which reopened to
tourists and pilgrims in 2011, now that the minefields nearby were cleared by
the Israeli government); one is near Tiberius along the Sea of Galilee; and one
site is known as Bethany beyond the Jordan, in the country of Jordan. John’s Gospel tells us that John baptized
people at Aenon near Salim, “because water was abundant there” (John 3:23). We
know that there were plenty of springs in that region that fed into the Jordan.
The
River Jordan looms large in the history and tradition of Israel. It stretches more than 220 miles: fed by the snow-covered peaks of Mt. Hermon,
with an elevation of 9,232 feet, it flows down through the Galilee and into the
Sea of Galilee, entering at the north end of the lake, at the south end of lake
the river resumes its course down toward Jericho and eventually empties into
the Dead Sea at 1,365 feet below sea level, forming the north end of the Rift
Valley, which stretches from this region all the way down to Tanzania. The book of Genesis first refers to the
Jordan as a source of fertility to a large plain, said to be like “the garden
of God” (Genesis 13:10). It has a way of
showing up in the biblical narrative at key moments, the setting for momentous events. Jacob crossed it and its tributary, the
Jabbok, on his return to Esau. Along the
banks of the Jabbok, Jacob wrestled with the mystery man in the middle of the
night that left him wounded and renamed (Genesis 32: 22-32). The people Israel
crossed over the Jordan and entered the land of promise, led by the priests
carrying the ark of the covenant, the presence of Yahweh (Joshua 3). The
priests stood with the ark in the riverbed as the people processed past them
into freedom. Elisha told Naaman, suffering from leprosy, to “Go, wash in the
Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean” (2
Kings 5:10).
The
River Jordan is significant. Its waters
offered healing, the source of life and fertility in a barren land, the place
of struggle and transition, it was a place of new beginnings, the point of
entry into a new land, a new future, offering new identities. It’s not surprising that John the Baptizer
chose such a place for his preaching, his ministry of anointing and washing and
preparing people for the inbreaking of God’s presence and power in Jesus of
Nazareth. And so the River Jordan
becomes the place of baptism.
The
place itself, wherever it was, represents something deep and profound as we
consider the meaning of our own baptisms.
As we hear of Jesus’ baptism, we’re invited to remember our own and the ongoing
implications of what it means for us to say that we have been baptized into
Christ. Most of us baptized as infants
need help in connecting with the meaning and significance of our baptisms. Baptism marked the beginning of Jesus’
ministry; it’s where his journey toward the cross begins. We, too, have been baptized, like Christ,
baptized into Christ in a rite with ongoing implications. It doesn’t happen just once; it’s not simply
an event of the past. It’s a present
reality. The more we reflect upon the
meaning of our baptism, the more we pray about it, allow its meaning to the
wash over us and pour through us, the more our lives will be changed and
transformed. We have been marked in
baptism. It marks the beginning of our
journey, a journey that invites us to go down into the Jordan, takes us through
the waters of the Jordan, leads us across the Jordan to a land of freedom.
Where is our Jordan? Where is this “place” of new beginnings, of rebirth
and renewal in our lives? How can we identify it? How do we know? Here are four signposts to help us discern:
The
Jordan is a place of washing. John
the Baptist came “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of
sins.” It’s the place of forgiveness, of
mercy, of being washed clean and starting fresh. Water itself is a symbol of washing, of God
dissolving away sin. What’s left is a
new person, a new creation, a new opportunity to repent, which means, to change
your mind, to change your attitude, to turn your life around and walk in a
different direction. It implies a
washing, a dissolving away of past and present stains. It means leaving aside on the riverbank old destructive
patterns, former ways that have not yielded life and then going down into the
water, dissolving away unhealthy attitudes and practices and beliefs and
perspectives and associations and maybe even relationships that do not yield
life, to then take up something new.
The
Jordan is a place of decision and action. Something is required of you. You can’t just sit on the riverbank and watch
the river flow by. You can’t just sit
there and watch others being washed, hoping to be washed by osmosis. There’s no
room for spectators. You have to decide
to get up and go into the water. You
can’t just believe in the thought or value of going into the water. The Jordan is about more than having beliefs
and ideas and good intentions. It’s
about action. It’s something we actually have to do, experience, feel, undergo. We have to get up and move and go down into
the water.
The
Jordan is a place that calls for commitment. Either we’re washed or we’re not. Either we go down to the river or we stay on
the riverbank. Despite my predilection
for both-and scenarios in life, this is an either-or moment.
Either we’re in the water – or we’re not.
We can’t be in the water
and on the riverbank at the same time.
Either we’re going to go down into the water, like
Jesus,
and allow ourselves to be
washed – or we’re not.
Either we’re going to identify with Christ – or
we’re not.
Either we’re going to open ourselves to God’s call
and claim on our lives – or
we’re not.
Either we’re going to be open to the voice the
Spirit
and acknowledge who we
are as God’s beloved children – or we’re not.
The Jordan is a place calling out to us for greater
commitment. The Jordan wants us to be
fully immersed in its waters, not simply sprinkled (the Presbyterian way), but
bathed, immersed, soaked, drenched with its grace, its call, and commitment.
The
Jordan is a place of washing, of deciding and acting, calling for commitment,
all of these, in order to prepare us for that moment when we discern the
Jordan’s deeper message and meaning. The
Jordan is a place of new beginnings. It’s
ultimately about conversion, transition, transformation, new life, liberation –
any of these, all of these. It’s
ultimately about change and being changed by the Spirit of God in order to take
up a new life. That’s why it’s the place
of transition.
It’s
a before and after moment, as it was for Jesus.
He went down into the water with one understanding of himself, but he
came up out of the water prepared to receive a new understanding of
himself: “You are my Son, the Beloved;
with you I am well pleased” (Luke 3:22).
This new identity will chart the course of his life and nothing will
ever again be the same again.
When
Israel crossed the Jordan it marked the movement from slavery into freedom,
from wandering in exile to entering the land the promise. In order to get there they had to transition
through the Jordan, they had to cross it.
They had to leave one place in order to enter a new place. The Jordan always involves a leave-taking. You have to leave familiar territory, cross
through the waters, in order to enter the land of freedom. There’s no other way forward but through its
waters.
It’s
not surprising that African-American slaves in the South identified so strongly
with this part of Israel’s history, of crossing Jordan. In some of the African-American spirituals “Jordan”
was code for the Ohio River. To cross that river was to cross into the promised
land of freedom. You can hear it in “Michael,
row the boat ashore.”
Michael,
row the boat ashore, Hallelujah….
Jordan
stream is wide and deep.
Jesus
stand on t’oder side.
I
wonder if my maussa deh….O poor sinner, how you land?
Riber
run and darkness comin’.
Sinner
row to save your soul.
The
abolitionist Harriet Tubman (1820-1913) was known for singing “Wade In theWater.” “Wade in the water, wade in the
water, children. God’s going to trouble the water.” The reference here is to the pool of Bethesda
(John 5: 1-18). It was believed that
when an angel touched the pool with its finger, troubled the water, there would
be ripples throughout the pool. If you
were near enough to the pool you could jump in and be healed. But to wade in the water during the time of
the Underground Railroad meant something else.
When Tubman and others sang, “Wade in the water,” it was code for
“follow the streams.” As you head North
to freedom don’t use the main roads and trails.
As you run from slavery, wade in the water, use the streams. Don’t limit yourself to the shores; get in
the water, there’s better protection that way.
The water helps to wash off your scent leaving nothing for the dogs on
your tail, leaving no trace, no footprints for those trying to bring you back
to slavery.[1]
Earlier
we sang in the middle hymn:
Lord,
bring us to our Jordan
Of
newly opened eyes,
Through
love, immersed in living,
As
you were once baptized.[2]
As we begin a new year, I invite you to make this
your prayer, both personally and together as a congregation. Lord, bring us to our Jordan – bring
us to that place of washing away all that separates us from God, our neighbor,
and ourselves; the place where we can start clean; that place of decision and
action; of greater commitment to God and our respective callings in the
church. Can we step away from the safety
of the riverbank and go into the depths?
Can we wade in the water? Let the
water wash over us, soak us, drench us, immerse us down into the depths of
God’s grace? And then come up changed
people, different people who make a difference?
Can we venture out into the Jordan to cross over toward freedom and new
beginnings?
This
means, of course, once you leave the riverbank and enter the waters, once you
cross over the Jordan, through the Jordan, there’s no turning back. You can’t go home again, back to where you
started. You can’t go back to
slavery. Once you hear the voice and
know your identity in Christ, there’s no way to un-hear it or un-know it. Once
you wise up, you can’t dummy down. For what
we discover at and in and through the Jordan will change our lives. If it doesn’t, then we haven’t been to the
Jordan, maybe we’ve only been to the riverbank.
In
the movie The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, the great wise wizard
Gandalf invites Bilbo Baggins, a Hobbit, to leave home for the adventure of a
lifetime. Bilbo is not easily persuaded. He prefers the coziness of his underground
home in the shire, reading his books by the warmth of his fire, enjoying tea
and jam and a full larder. Gandalf
encourages him to come along, but warns him that if he decides to go his life
will never again be the same; he’ll never be able to return home the same
person. In the end, Bilbo decides to
go. It’s not long in the journey when
Bilbo has second thoughts; he second-guesses himself, and talks about going
back. But it’s too late. Gandalf says,
in one of the many great lines in the movie, “Home is now behind you,” Bilbo.
“The world is ahead…. It’s out there!”[3]
That
was Bilbo’s “Jordan” moment, without the water, but with the same result. It leads him off on an expected journey, the
journey of a lifetime. Our Jordan
moment, or moments, our baptism in Christ offers nothing less: it’s the unexpected journey of a lifetime,
and then some.
[1] Raymond Dobbard, Ph.D., on the
hidden meaning in spirituals.
[2] “Lord, When You Came to Jordan,”
text by Brian Wren (b. 1936), to the tune:
GENEVAN 130. The Presbyterian
Hymnal (Louisville: 1990).
[3] “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey,” (2012), based on the
book The Hobbitt, or There and Back Again
(1937) by J. R. R. Tolkien (1892-1973).
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