Today is the day in the church liturgical calendar called the Feast of the Baptism of our Lord. It’s a day when the Church pauses to remember Jesus’ baptism and the baptisms of all Christians. It’s a traditional day to get baptized, although we don’t have any baptisms here today (not yet anyway). Before I go further, I want to say that I’m imagining that not everyone here is baptized, and that is just fine with us. I want everyone here to feel completely welcome. So I want to tell you that when I think of baptism, I think not of special privileges conferred, but special obligations taken on (or bestowed on) the baptized. For me it’s not about privileges, it’s about obligations (which I think are a joy to have). And when I speak of remembering baptism, it’s not the usual way of remembering – because none of us (not even Matthew the Gospel writer) was around when Jesus was baptized. Just to be clear, there wasn’t someone named Matthew standing there who heard the voice of God and said, “Wait, let me get a pen and write this down!”

It’s also not the usual way of remembering our own baptisms because my guess is that many people in this room who were baptized, were baptized when we were too young to know what was going on!  It’s a different kind of remembering. It is remembering as a way of putting the pieces together again. We remember baptism by telling the story again, and we remember every time we renew our baptismal promises – like we did two weeks ago in the Lindsey Chapel. And, most importantly, we remember baptism whenever we live out our baptismal promises.

In the early church, the Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord was much more important a celebration than the Feast of the Birth of Our Lord (which we know as Christmas). The ancient church celebrated three feasts of light: Epiphany, which was the story of people wise enough to seek after and find Jesus, The Baptism of Our Lord by the incredulous John at the River Jordan, and the Wedding Feast at Cana where the story goes that Jesus changed water into some really good wine. Even though neither Matthew, Mark, or Luke mention the wedding feast at Cana at all, it became known in Church tradition as Jesus’ first miracle – the first manifestation of the power of God in Jesus. These feasts of light were understood to illuminate God’s nature, they were manifestations or revelations initiated by God and noticed by people. These three feasts demonstrated to early Christians not only what God is like but alsoWho (God) wishes us to be in community – in relationship to one another.
So I want you to remember baptism today – not just the story of Jesus’ baptism. The pieces that I want you to put back together – to re-member today about your baptism (or the story of your baptism), for those of you who were baptized, is not what you wore or who was there (if that is even possible for you to know). I want you to remember some words from your baptism that may never have been spoken out loud, but they were the most important message of all. They are more important than the creed and the baptismal vows – in fact, the creed and baptismal vows don’t matter at all – they don’t matter one bit -- if the message of these words is not remembered.

The words are part of the story of Jesus’ baptism that gets re-membered in Matthew’s gospel account -- the voice of God that Jesus heard. Matthew was putting the pieces back together and he wanted the hearers of his Gospel to pay attention. You know, there’s a word in Matthew that means “pay attention” that he used more than 60 times: idou. It’s almost like a verbal tic because Matthew uses it so much. The translators render it either ‘behold’ or ‘hark’ or, sometimes, as in this case, they ignore it completely. (Very ironic that the word for “pay attention” is omitted by translators!) Matthew is putting the pieces of Jesus’ baptism together and he says, “pay attention the heavens were opened to him as he came up from the water and he saw the spirit of God step down as if a dove and come on to him and pay attention he heard a heavenly voice say this is my son the beloved in whom I am glad, in whom I am delighted, in whom I am well pleased.”

The way Matthew puts the pieces together, Jesus was the only one who heard God’s voice at his baptism. Matthew says [pay attention] Jesus saw God’s spirit like a dove and heard a heavenly voice. [pay attention] The heavenly voice did not come out of the sky, it was like it came from the sky. According to Matthew, those who were right next to Jesus didn’t hear the voice at all.  It’s a surprisingly quiet scene. It’s an inside–out voice, not an outside–in voice.  An inside-out voice. Matthew was writing a Gospel about and for people steeped in Hebrew tradition. He was putting the pieces together: that voice that Jesus heard, in Hebrew tradition, was the bat-kol.

Bat-kol is sometimes translated as “the still small voice”. It’s the voice that Elijah heard when he realized that God was not in the commotion of the wind or the earthquake or the fire. Bat-kol, literally translated, is the voice of a little girl, or the daughter of a voice – an echo. In Jewish tradition it is the divine, the heavenly voice, which comes from deep within – often in dreams, sometimes in prayer or meditation.  It’s hard to hear – because it’s so quiet, so small. It’s subtle – clear, but subtle.

The symbol for the bat-kol, in Jewish tradition, is the dove. And Jewish tradition was extremely important to Matthew the Evangelist. The bat-kol was said to have been heard by the Rabbinic Sages when they had very important decisions to make. And the rabbis taught that when it was ignored, disaster soon followed. Our scripture account doesn’t tell us directly that Jesus had a very important decision to make, but indirectly it does because what we know is that he went to the Jordan River to be baptized. Jesus was hearing a heavenly voice, experiencing God’s spirit like a dove at the Jordan River. Remember it was at the Jordan River that Moses interpreted the Law, the Torah. Remember it was at the Jordan River that Israel entered the promised land. Remember it was at the Jordan River that Elijah’s spirit was received by Elisha. In other words, this is a very big deal! Remember that Jesus went to the Jordan River and heard the bat-kol and that it was after that that he began to proclaim that God was very near – not remote or distant, but very near. And right after that he began recruiting helpers and then things really began to roll! So we can imagine that Jesus, at his baptism, had a very important decision to make. And he heard the bat-kol – the still small voice – saying, “This is my beloved son, in whom I am delighted.” It was a little surge of self-understanding and confidence, the knowledge that he was the apple of God’s eye.

We are really missing something if we think that the bat-kol only speaks to rabbinic sages, or to only to people like Elijah and to Jesus, or only to people who have been baptized, for that matter. The bat-kol speaks to and longs to be heard by you, telling the message that is most important about God’s gladness in you. Pay attention. Listen. Remember. Take time every day to be still enough to remember the bat-kol – the little voice telling you that you are God’s beloved sons and daughters – that God is so delighted in you. I urge you to get quiet enough at least once every day to remember to listen for that voice. I urge you to put the pieces together that you are beloved before you make any important decisions. Remember that voice whenever you renew your baptismal vows. Remember that God is calling to each one of us with the voice of a little girl.
You know, it’s worth noting that this declaration of Jesus’ belovedness is not some kind of report card or an evaluation (1) at the end of his life’s work – it’s the starting point. The whole of Jesus’ ministry begins after he remembers the deep love of God – in response to the remembering. When Christian community is at its best, we help each other to do that remembering. We help each other put the pieces back together. We remind each other of God’s love. We remind each other of God’s gladness in us not so that we can bask in self-satisfaction. It’s not so that we can marvel at our own accomplishments. It’s certainly not so that we can polish up our own piety, but so that we can become more deeply and joyfully committed to fulfilling our obligation of justice-making and peace-making. In fact, if ever we think we are hearing the voice of the Holy One but we are not moved to respond with deeper compassion and greater connectedness with others, I believe we are mistaken. If we ever imagine that we hear the bat-kol, the voice of God, but we are not stirred to respond with greater creativity and inspiration to get into all kinds of mischief to benefit folks who are least and lost and left out, I believe we have misheard. We have misunderstood if we dream that we are paying attention to the bat-kol but we are not compelled to engage in the loving kindness (the hesed 2) needed to repair the world.

If, in Christian community, what we say or do comes from hearing and remembering that still small voice, the bat-kol, then we must understand that we have what it takes – indeed, we have what we need -- to nourish others who are hungry and provide refreshment to those who are thirsty, to bring healing to those who are suffering, to respect the dignity of every other, because we have God’s help and we must take advantage of it and spread it around. Remembering the bat-kol increases our connectedness and shows us that we have all we need to move through life’s most difficult or challenging times as long as we stick together and share what we have.  

The sound of the voice may be small but we are not to play small. The small voice calls us to big action. We are called again and again to put the pieces together about who and Whose we are, and to join with others to be the hands and heart of God in the world. I am convinced that whenever what we say or do comes from remembering that still small voice, God’s heaven comes on earth, and God knows we need that.