Written by Rev. Dr. Hilary J. Barrett
“Water and Fire”
A Sermon by the Rev. Dr. Hilary J. Barrett
Preached at Pleasantville United Church of Christ, January 10, 2010
Isaiah 43:1-7 and Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
“I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming;
I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.
His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary;
but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
Rob and I packed up all the Christmas decorations yesterday. I found it hard to part with the season this year. My house looks so much better by the light of a Christmas tree. I played the Christmas CD’s one more time and thought about how good it has been to have the crèche on the dining room table since Advent began. The tall wooden figures are a little top-heavy and kept toppling over, so it became a regular ritual to set them up again and again. Each time the arrangement was somewhat different – but always the figures were placed in such a fashion so that the baby Jesus was the focus of their attention. I wonder if the sheep really were that focused on Jesus.
Arranging the sheep and the shepherds, the Magi and Mary and Joseph that way turned out to be a centering ritual for me too. Without really thinking about it, rearranging those figures again and again helped me to keep my focus on the baby Jesus too.
But now the manger is behind us. It would nice, I suppose, to linger there. Sometimes I think it would nice if we could just dwell with the baby Jesus all year long. Because for all the chaos that they do bring, things are simpler when there’s a baby at the center.
Amelie’s baby daughter, Lucia, came to work with her Mama a couple days this week. It was a joy to have her here and the women of the staff fought over who would get to hold her for a while when her Amelie needed a break. I had forgotten how sweet it is to have a baby resting on your chest. They listen to you breathe and you listen to them breathe, and everything just seems to fall into the proper perspective. If something is troubling you, it won’t be for long if you’ve got a two month old wrapping all of her fingers around just one of yours. There is no doubt they are a lot of work – but having a baby at the center of your attention has a remarkable ability to keep you focused and clear about what’s really important.
The thing that’s hard is that we can’t stay in the Manger forever. The story continues, and unless we decide to put our spiritual lives on hold, we’ve got to continue with it.
And so today’s story is a continuation of the big story; the gospel story – and suddenly we speed ahead by about 30 years. We don’t get a chance to see Jesus playing stickball with his friends in Nazareth. We don’t get to see him learning the woodworking trade from his Dad, Joseph. We don’t get to find out if he has a crush on anybody. With the exception of a brief moment in the Temple at the age of 12, we just lurch ahead and meet up with Jesus again when he’s a grown up. We find him as a face in the crowd of those who have gathered in the desert to be baptized by John.
In many ways, this text that we study today isn’t so much about Jesus as it is about John. Our part of the passage begins at verse 15, but the 14 verses leading up to our portion describes the call of the prophet, John the Baptist, they describe the nature of his ministry – that he proclaimed a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, and they describe the content of his message: a message about justice and fairness and sharing possessions with one another.
The story tells us that John’s ministry had gained the attention of many people – including King Herod – who would eventually have him thrown into prison for saying things that ticked Herod off. And some who heard of John’s ministry would wonder if he was the Messiah.
But John is quick to answer that question:
“I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming;
I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals.
He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”
And then, without any fanfare, and with little of the drama captured by the other gospels on this occasion, Jesus is baptized. The heavens open, the Holy Spirit descends in the form of a dove, the voice of God speaks, and the story moves forward with the words: “Jesus was about thirty years old when he began his work” (Luke 3:23).
The story of the baptism of Jesus is heard in the Church at this time every year. Here at the beginning of the New Year, having made our pilgrimage to the manger and with our New Year’s resolutions behind us, we turn to the story of the Baptism of Our Lord, and as we do we are invited to reflect on our own baptisms as well. Christians all over the world are reading these same texts today – and, if given the opportunity, reaffirming their baptisms on this 1st Sunday after Epiphany.
Baptism is one of only two sacraments observed by the Protestant Church. We observe the sacrament of Baptism because Jesus said, “Go…and make disciples of all nations…” (Matthew 28:19). And we observe the sacrament of Holy Communion because Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me.”
In the sacrament of baptism, we are re-enacting that story in the desert. We immerse or sprinkle children or adults with water and we declare them blessed and beloved by God. Just as Jesus was claimed by God through the waters of baptism, we too are marked forever by those waters. In our tradition, baptism is the entry point into the Christian faith. It is a sign, first, of our belonging to God and then to one another.
So in the waters of baptism we are claimed as belonging to God. And this is a claim that nothing can change. God’s claim upon us, God’s blessing of us, God’s signature that names us “Beloved” is indelible. The world may hurt us, we may make terrible mistakes in our lives, but there is nothing that can change the fact that we belong to God.
But there is another aspect to the sacrament of baptism that speaks with great power for adults, in particular: the part of baptism that signifies the forgiveness of sins; the washing clean that only God can do.
When we see an infant baptized, it’s hard to imagine they have anything they need to repent of. But we are a different matter. We’ve had enough time on the planet to wrack up some real regrets. And every baptism we witness reminds us that we are called to repent, to turn around, to leave the past -- and to use some old fashioned language -- our wicked ways behind us and receive the new life that Christ brings. Baptism is meant to remind us, that when we take upon us the baptism of repentance, we die to our former selves and we put on the garment of Christ in its place. Baptism signifies a complete and total reorientation of our lives. And from time to time, we need to remember our baptisms.
When people met up with John the Baptist in the desert, they thought he might be the Messiah. But he told them that while he baptized them with water, there was one coming who would baptize them with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Both of the scriptures that we read this morning have images of water and fire in them. In Isaiah, God promises to be with us even if we have to walk through fire and flood. But the gospel text promise that there will be fire. In fact, the gospel promises that Jesus, himself, will bring the fire.
Usually when someone speaks about a “baptism by fire” they’re talking about starting a new job and then instantly having to face some major crisis. “Baptism by fire” usually means a significant trial in life. Baptism is God’s signature of love upon us. It means that we are named and claimed as God’s own people. But there are consequences for belonging to God, and some of them are tough ones.
Do you remember how, when John baptized Jesus, the very next thing we hear in the story is: “Jesus was about thirty years old when he began his work” (Luke 3:23).
The work and ministry of Jesus in the world may have been filled with countless blessings, but what we know about it is that it was also just real hard. The truth is, life can be that way – especially if you are trying to live your life in faithfulness to God.
It’s real appealing to stay in the manger. I loved arranging and rearranging those figures in the crèche on my dining room table. Keeping baby Jesus at the center of my meditations these last six weeks has been so peaceful. But our baptisms call us out of the manger and into the world, to love and to serve like the Master.
Now don’t get me wrong: this is not a threat. I’m not saying that if you get baptized you’re gonna’ suffer because that’s what Jesus wants. What I’m saying is that suffering comes. Life is full of it. And a baptism of repentance calls us to be honest with ourselves and honest with God about our part in the suffering of the world. And that kind of honesty hurts like only the flames of God’s purifying fire can.
In a few moments we will be invited to reaffirm our baptismal covenant with God and renew our vows of faithfulness. As we do so, may we be washed in the waters of grace. May we be claimed by the indelible signature of God’s love. May we be comforted by the knowledge that, when the fires of life’s trials lick at our flesh, the abiding presence of God will surround us and sustain us.
Water and fire. The journey with Jesus necessarily involves leaving the comfort of the manger. We must follow him out into the desert, where we will be claimed by God with indelible ink and called to live a life of commitment to God’s way that ain’t always easy. That’s the promise. That’s the good news. That’s the truth. Amen.