1 Epiphany.C.25 (Baptism of Jesus)
Isaiah 43:1-7, Luke 3:15-17, 21-22)
The Rev. Melanie McCarley

There are a good many paintings of the baptism of Jesus. Most of them (including the picture on today’s program) depict Jesus and John in calm, still water. Many of them have Jesus and John standing ankle deep in the river—John’s coat of camel hair retaining a dry, if not fluffy appearance, and Jesus, for his own part, appearing unruffled as well. Quite frequently John is pouring a gentle stream of water onto the Savior’s head from a scallop shell. More often than not we see a dove, descending from fluffy white clouds in blue skies and what we have, in essence, is a peaceful picture of a calm and serene moment in time.

All of which causes me to recollect the moment I almost drowned Billy Hewitt. Billy was sixteen and had yet to be baptized. As of 1979, the rubrics of baptism in the Episcopal Church assume that this sacrament (outside of times of ill health and impending death) will now be done on Sunday mornings in view of the full assembly. Billy, being in good health at the time, wanted none of this. I told him there was a way out. I told him I’d baptize him on a Saturday evening in the immersion tank at the Baptist Church. I thought this would encourage Billy to opt for a baptism on a Sunday morning. It seems I underestimated Billy’s desire to remain, as far as possible, out of the public eye. He told me he was all for the immersion tank. And so, I picked up the phone and called The Rev. Dr. Wyman Hall at the First Baptist Church in Charles Town, West Virginia.

Dr. Hall, being of an ecumenical spirit, told me he was happy to assist. Billy and I donned our white albs, towels at the ready—me, I was hoping the water wouldn’t be too cold (it was not). My understanding was that a person had to be dunked three times, This being my first baptism by immersion (and only…thus far) I forgot to advise Billy to hold his nose as I bent him backwards into the water—not once….not twice…but three times. He came up sputtering the first time—coughing on the second, but the third time, if I’m honest, he was gasping a bit and thrashing as well. I was quite pleased with the baptism. Dr. Hall, for his own part, declared he had never seen anything like it. He remarked “I just dunk them once—and I let them hold their nose.” Billy declared that I was trying to kill him. I responded that the point of baptism was to die to sin and death and be raised to new life in Christ, and it appeared to me that Billy was now thoroughly cleansed from sin from the inside out. There was no doubt he was well and truly baptized. This is my way of saying—if any of you would like to be baptized by immersion, I now know what I’m doing—and, while I don’t know of any immersion tanks around Dedham, there is always the Charles River.

Not all baptisms are calm and peaceful. Apparently, I screamed through my own. Being a few months old at the time, I don’t have any memory of this—but my mother assures me this was indeed the case. Some baptisms involve infants thrashing in water, people wading in rivers—and slipping down the bank. Not all baptisms are picture perfect. And I find myself wondering if perhaps the messy ones aren’t, in fact, the most accurate of all. Because, let’s face it, life can be messy, if not downright harrowing. I know whereof I speak, not even your baptism is promised to be safe.

In the reading from the Book of Isaiah, God promises: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”

Judging from the paintings we find of Jesus’ baptism, it’s difficult to imagine that God would need to promise to be with anyone as they stand in ankle-deep water. But the path through those waters of baptism led to the cross. Maybe Jesus’ baptism was just as the artists depict—but even so, Jesus’s baptism leads from those waters to a life filled with challenge and sacrifice. And that, in many ways, is not so different than our own.

For we each, in our own ways, and in our own times, encounter moments when the waters of life are far from calm and placid, but rage around us with the power of a flood. There are rivers to cross and fire to walk through as we make our way through this life. Sometimes those rivers we must cross are literal, as it was with the pioneers of years past, traveling by covered wagon and on foot to the western regions of North America; and it is certainly true of the people of southern California this past week who have fled, and continue to flee fire in neighborhoods most all of us would have considered safe from such a scourge until now. Other times the fire and water we go through are figurative. Surely, we may feel as though we are traveling through flood or flame at the loss of a job, the end of a marriage, the death of a loved one, the uncertainty that comes with a health challenge, or the failure of an important goal. There are countless times when life is filled with danger and loss—yet through it all, God tells us not to be afraid. In words from the Book of Isaiah: “for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

How might this relate to the baptism of Christ? Consider that Luke isn’t telling us this story in a vacuum. He’s relating it because it not only tells us something about Jesus—it also tells us something about ourselves.

Baptism, first and foremost, is about identity. Baptism teaches us who we are—and, along with this whose we are. In an era when so many of the traditional elements of identity are fading away and hometowns are no longer permanent. We change jobs frequently, many people move often and can count multiple residences throughout their lives rather than having grown up in a single community. That mark of a cross on your forehead is a reminder to you that you belong to Christ. If we live our lives well, we discover that we learn who we are best in relationship to God. It is God who cleanses us from sin; God who gifts us with the Holy Spirit, God who promises to be with us through whatever type of water we must wade through in order to get to the other side. God gifts us with the waters of baptism, and as we travel this life, living into the promises of our baptismal covenant, we discover that indeed, the words of God are living and true: “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; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel….Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…”
In Jesus’ name. Amen.