You, too, Are My Child, the Beloved Isaiah 42:1-9, Acts 10:34-38, Mark 1:7-11 January 12, 2003, Year B, 1 Epiphany The Rev. William V. Livingston, Rector Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi Based on how each Gospel begins, we determine much about the author's understanding of Jesus' earthly ministry. Luke, who understood Jesus as bringing the good news to all - especially the poor and suffering - begins the story tracing Jesus' heritage back to Adam and emphasizes the humbleness of his birth in a manger. Matthew, who understood Jesus as the fulfillment of Scripture, begins by tracing his heritage to Abraham and, like the Israelites 12 centuries earlier, tells of the Holy Family's flight to and return from Egypt. John's prologue emphasized Jesus' incarnation, describing him as the Word become flesh. Understanding Jesus' bringing the good news through his ministry, Mark begins with no birth story, but with Jesus' baptism. Immediately after the baptism Jesus sees a sudden rent in the dome of the heavens arching over his head - as though a melon had been sliced open with a knife. And through this rent, like a bird fluttering to earth, comes the Spirit of God. And like a bird alighting on its nest, the Spirit lights on Jesus. There is nothing in our own experience to help us understand what this was like. In Jesus' vision the dove was an outward sign of an invisible occurrence: Henceforth Jesus would be the Spirit-filled man. In, with, and under the human spirit by which he was moved would be the Spirit of God. From this same torn heaven came a voice: a voice he would know as well as his own voice, a voice he could distinguish from the murmurings of his internal voices that, being human, would be bombarded from all the voices of the world. "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." This voice bestowed no new powers upon Jesus, but certified who he was, that in all he did, he fully represented God. For those of you with professional licenses or advanced degrees, your license, your diploma bestow no powers on you, but serve as an outward sign you are who you say you are. So, the voice certifies Jesus. To put this in another way: in everything that Jesus says and does, God is at work, showing us how closely and intimately God relates to human beings who experience suffering and who recognize their sin and need to repent and turn again. Jesus stands in the Jordan River, just as he lay in the stable as a baby, just as he will hang on the Cross of his death, because God is in Christ, identifying himself with us in every aspect of our births, lives and deaths, and in solidarity with us. This Jesus is, we say, "Emmanuel," - God-with-us, God for us - most especially in the depths of our sin, especially when we feel most estranged from God. By beginning the story with Jesus gathered with all those who had come to the Jordan to have John free them of their guilt and suffering, the author of Mark shows Jesus doing what God in Christ always does: stands by us, stands with us, stands for us in our great need to experience God's presence. Today is one the days our Church recommends for the celebration of Holy Baptism. Today we will baptize Rivers and Sky Roberson. As we do, I hope we will have an understanding of the implications of Jesus' baptism for their and our baptisms. As a priest, I periodically get calls that go something like this: "I think it's time for my baby to be done." "Done what? Has she been in the oven?" "You know; it's time to have her sprinkled, christened, baptized, or whatever it's called." Compared to today's Gospel scene, we have made the baptism ritual antiseptic and sterile...a scene of talcum powdered babies, dressed in white, cute and pleasant, a good excuse to throw another lavish party. But, like the author of Mark, we need to understand that baptism, being Christian, means following Jesus into the mess, the chaos of life, and coming back up out of it with a little more order, a little more beauty than was at first thought possible. It is this kind of immersion that causes peace to descend and brings from on high the voice of favor to our ears. If we fully understand what we do in the service of Holy Baptism, if we fully understand what occurred at our baptisms, we would place the anniversary of our baptism, our participation in new creation, right up there along with our birthday and wedding anniversary as significant days of our lives. Just as the voice certified who Jesus was and is, just a your licenses or diplomas certify who you are, so it is with each of us with our baptism. As I prepared this sermon, I considered the diplomas and ordination certificates I have hanging on my wall. However, I realize that over the years, because neither I nor my parents realized its importance, I have lost the most significant certificate that authorizes me to stand before you: my baptismal certificate. Although Diane was ordained a Deacon last Saturday, it was not then that she was marked as God's child to serve in God's name. Elizabeth and I as priests and Diane as Deacon have been authorized for certain types of ministries by the Episcopal Church through our ordinations. However, it was, for you at your baptism and Elizabeth, Diane and me at our baptisms, that each of us was certified as a child of God. It was then that the indwelling of the Holy Spirit in you and me was signified. Yes, on that day, our new life was bound to those who prepared us for faith, and through them to the history of the church, to the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, to the affirmations and promises of the "First Testament" and to God's kindness in creating the universe. Our baptism sealed our astonishing relationship to a gracious God. It is the beginning of the good news that we are part of God's new creation, that the God who makes all things new made us new, bringing us as new creatures into an ongoing saving history and sending us out into the world as part of that saving history. The moment of baptism calls for awe and delight; the point of baptism is to give us our most fundamental identity. Our baptism, as was Jesus', was about entering into the stuff of life, the kind of stuff that Isaiah spoke of in today's first reading. It means entering into the brokenness of humanity. Have you had any moments of clarity about your relationship with God? Moments in which you became acutely aware of God's grace or presence? How have these moments changed you? How did those moments affirm your baptism and your life as a Christian? While such moments of focus come in a private manner, our moment of revelation, baptism, is public. While it may not have been an overwhelming experience (indeed, most of us may not even remember it), baptism does loom over us as a turning point. God offered us the same relationship God had and has with Jesus. He gave us (and continues to give us) a choice for the Spirit and for divine childhood. The baptism of Jesus is our template. There is nothing about Jesus' baptism to distinguish it from yours and mine, except that apparently he was immersed in the Jordan River, while many of us had water poured upon us from a baptismal font. Our baptism, just as Jesus' signifies God is behind us encouraging us, side by side with us when we fall short, and in front of us waiting for us offering forgiveness, even before we know we have erred. But this ordinary event is the signal for extraordinary events to follow; the baptism is not the explosion, but rather the fuse because like Jesus, it signifies we, too, have been sent into the suffering of the world offering the same Spirit we have received. It is unfortunate that we too often miss the significance of our sacraments. We muddle through the Eucharist, not realizing we receive Christ, to sustain us through another week of living. We place more importance on the wedding reception than on the covenant of marriage. We let selecting the coffin overshadow the burial service's celebration of the resurrection. We fail to hear the voice of God at baptisms. Yet, whether we have the ears to hear it or not, today as Elizabeth pours water over Rivers and Sky, the heavens will tear apart, and, once again, as it did at Jesus' baptism and at your baptism and my baptism, a voice from heaven will say, "You are my Child, my Beloved; with you I am well pleased.