Isaiah 43:1-7 Acts 8:14-17 Luke 3:15-17, 21-22 Psalm 29
A voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’
[Luke 3:22]
Jesus, the Son, has been baptized and is praying; we hear the voice of the Father, and we experience the bodily presence of the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are present as Jesus is baptized. Now, the mission begins in earnest.
We know very little about Jesus from the time of his birth, described by the writers of Matthew and Luke. We learn of a tidbit of Jesus’ preteen years from Luke’s account of Jesus teaching in the Temple at the age of twelve. But, in terms of Jesus’ earthly life and ministry, the story begins here at the Jordan as Jesus comes to be baptized along with all the others who are gathered there that day. We know nothing of Jesus’ ministry before this time. There are no biblical accounts of his adult years prior to the baptism.
And, yet, here at the very beginning, before any account of Jesus’ good works, God the Father is pleased with this beloved Son. God the Father affirms the Son and makes known his everlasting presence with him through the Holy Spirit. From this point on, Jesus will visibly and intentionally pursue the mission to which he has been called. As we well know, it will not be easy; Jesus’ earthly life will be filled with turmoil and it will end in an excruciatingly grueling and painful death prior to his Resurrection on the third day.
As we come to be baptized, we too are beloved. God calls us by name and marks us as his own. Spiritually and symbolically we go down to death with Christ and are raised with him into new life.
We have not and cannot earn God’s love; we have not earned the privilege of being baptized; we are offered that gift through the grace of our Lord who ransomed his life that we might be redeemed from the evil of sin and death. We are offered the gift of baptism to mark our place in the Body of Christ. Our baptism is the outward sign of the inward and spiritual grace of our life and ministry on behalf of Jesus Christ. As it was for Jesus, our baptism does not promise us an easy life; in fact, Jesus is very clear that our discipleship is costly. We are not guaranteed freedom from physical illness or danger or evil. But, we are promised that God will never abandon us – that God will be forever present through the storms of our lives.
Roland and I traveled on Thursday to Raleigh, towing a U-Haul trailer packed to the gills (Jed Clampett style) with furniture and family heirlooms to be delivered to our children who now have more space than we do. As we motored westward on the interstate, I caught sight of two dogs – perhaps bulldogs or boxers – who were stranded in the median. One, quite anxiously, was standing guard over the other who perhaps was hurt and lying on the ground. Of course, there was little we could do for them, and knowing the public concern for animal safety, I was comforted by the thought that soon someone would come along with desire and means to help the stranded pair. I glimpsed collars on the dogs as a hopeful sign that their owners were searching for them.
Even so, I’ve been haunted by thoughts of the two there on that narrow strip of median between heavily traveled lanes of fast-moving traffic. How afraid they must be, separated by fearsome barriers from those they loved – lost, separated, and alone amidst chaos, confusion, and physical pain. Would help come soon enough to spare them from greater peril? The pain and fear of separation are unbearable and haunting.
In these last few months, our parish family has suffered the pain and fear of separation from those we love. We continue to grieve the death of a long-term vital member; we remain distraught over the grave diagnosis and prognosis of another; and we are troubled by the physical and emotional pain of life-changing major surgery for another. Our lengthy parish prayer list is a mere slice of the physical suffering of those beloved to us. Each of us could add our stories of sadness and hardship being endured by those we love.
And, there are those who would say God has abandoned us in these times of inexplicable grief. Particularly for the closest family members for the seriously or terminally ill, there is the feeling of being separated from life as they knew it, lost and abandoned on a tiny strip of median bounded by heavy fast-moving traffic – busy, unconcerned passersby; busy, unconcerned God.
But, even when we are stranded in the midst of peril, God does not abandon us. We are his beloved. This is the gift of God as we are baptized by water and the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever. Even Jesus, the only truly good man, did not earn his place among God’s beloved. God is the giver of love; we, the Body of Christ, are the beloved.
And, as God’s beloved, though not promised physical healing, we are promised the gift of peace in our hearts, serenity in our grief, and the ever-presence of God who is with us even when stranded on busy highway medians.
Through the prophetic voice of the prophet Isaiah, God says:
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
What a blessing to us is the privilege of baptism. As this young family comes to be baptized, listen for the voice of God who is saying: “You are my beloved, in whom I am well-pleased. I will never abandon you.”
