The Baptism of Our Lord, January 10, 2021, The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz.

O God, manifest in us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

What a week. I’ve been reflecting more than usual on the history of Emmanuel Church, organized by a group of religious progressives, abolitionists whose wealth had come largely from the economics of enslaving people, though they were not slaveholders themselves. They formed Emmanuel in the spring of 1860, just eight months before states seceded from the United States, one year before the Civil War began. Our cornerstone was laid at the same time as the Battle of Bull Run in July 1861. Many in the North thought the conflict would be resolved quickly. They were so wrong; yet, their hope for the future represented by their church planting has produced so much good fruit, and it’s still producing today.

This past Wednesday, the Feast of the Epiphany, I felt thrilled at the news that the people of Georgia had just elected their first African-American and first Jewish U.S. senators. Senator-elect Raphael Warnock was the youngest person to be called to serve as Senior Pastor at Ebenezer Baptist Church, where Martin Luther King, Jr. once served as Senior Pastor. Senator-elect Jon Osoff is the first U.S. senator born in the 1980’s and, at 33, will be the youngest in the Senate Chamber. So much cause for joy! Jesus would be so proud, as one of my friends from the South loves to say.

Later the same day, the outgoing President of the United States presided over a rally (not an impromptu gathering by any means) and incited insurrection to disrupt the Electoral College’s vote-count ceremony. When the mob entered the Capitol Building (which was built by enslaved people), I felt angered and disgusted; though, sadly, I was not shocked. The image from the riot at the Capitol Building that I found most telling was the raising of the Confederate flag inside the building for the first time in U.S. history. I briefly considered changing our plans for this service to begin with The Great Litany. We customarily pray The Great Litany at the beginning of the service on the First Sunday in Lent, but our Book of Common Prayer commends it to our use “especially in times of war, national anxiety, or disaster.” When I thought about our parish ancestors, I decided to stick with the original plan of renewing our baptismal promises because, yes, we need to be fervent in prayer, but we also need to be inspired and encouraged to be repairers of the breach and restorers of the streets to live in. We need to be inspired and encouraged to build up the beloved community and to be a blessing to others. We need to be inspired and encouraged to become good ancestors. [1]

This morning, we have a treasure trove of scripture readings about our heritage, about our good ancestors and good beginnings, starting with Genesis. I wonder if you noticed that this creation account is not a story about before there was anything at all. There was darkness, water, and wind. (It could have been Boston.) There was something for the wind or breath or spirit of God to be blowing over. The earth was there, but it was, in biblical Hebrew, all tohu wabohu, nonsense syllables like topsy-turvy. The Jewish Publication Society translates the first word as, “When God began to create.” Divine shaping or creating, according to our Bible, is ongoing and incomplete. When the earth was topsy-turvy, God began to get things in order, making meaning, making sense of nonsense. I wonder if you noticed that this story doesn’t tell of God eliminating chaos, night, or the frightening abyss of the sea; God began creating some order, some distinctions, setting some limits.[1] God’s creative work was and is ongoing and all good.

All good, not according to a scientific or historical or even logical account of the beginning of time; this is a mystical account. Light, evening, and morning are being created before the sun or other stars exist. This is a story about Divine morality and spirituality, about goodness and blessing in creating, in shaping the world. This is an attempt to convey some wisdom about the Holy-One-Who-Dwells-in-This-World  making coherence out of chaos, seeing good in what is otherwise just a mess. [2] It is set in contrast to Babylonian creation stories, which featured gods who caused chaos, and it says: “Our God doesn’t cause chaos but creates what is good and what is meaningful in the midst of chaos.”

This creation story is one of the newest stories of the ancient biblical texts, written late and inserted as prologue or introduction. This story is the answer to Pharaoh’s question to Moses: “Who is the Lord God that I should obey his voice and let the people go free?” (Answer: The creator Who delights in the goodness of creation.) Our Second Testament parallel is the Gospel of John, written very late compared with other Second Testament books in the answer to the question, “Who is the Lord Jesus?” (Answer: The very Word of the Author made flesh.)

A Trinitarian might guess our reading from Acts of the Apostles is part of the answer to “Who is the Holy Spirit?” In context, however, it’s more about answering the question, “Who is Paul?” If you read ahead a few verses to Verse 11, Acts says, “And God, through Paul’s hands, performed extraordinary deeds of power.” This story is just so funny to me. Paul finds some disciples (oh “about twelve of them”) in Ephesus and asks, “Did you receive a holy spirit when you became believers (or more literally, when you came to trust in Jesus)?” What made him ask that; did he detect a lack of inspiration or enthusiasm for the work of discipleship; was their zeal flagging; did they seem overwhelmed with despair? Earlier in Acts, new followers are described as having “only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus,” until Peter and John laid hands on them to deliver a holy spirit. Reception of a holy spirit and baptism in the name of John, or of Jesus, happened in a variety of ways, not usually simultaneously and not in any particular order according to our Second Testament. (I like the theological elbow room that offers.) Here the people Paul was talking to replied, “No, we have not even heard that there is a holy spirit.” The translation choices of capitalizing the words holy and spirit usually get my back up, but in this case they add to the comedy when the disciples say: “Nobody told us that there is a Holy Spirit.” Clearly messaging and organization were significant challenges even in the earliest days of the church.

The Gospel of Mark begins the testimony of the good news of Jesus Christ by quoting the prophets Malachi and Isaiah about preparing the way for people to get right with God. “See, I am sending my angel before your face, who will prepare your path; a voice of one crying out: ‘in the wilderness, [4] prepare the Lord’s way, clear paths right away.’” (It will not surprise you to know that I prefer translating the word as “right away” or “immediately” instead of straight.)

This is the Gospel lead-in to our portion for today. What caught my attention this year was the description of the places from which the people were coming to John to be immersed or bathed in what will transform them (which is what baptism means). I have to share this gem of a translation discovery that Emmanuel’s Koine Greek study group found this week in Strong’s Concordance: “This word baptizô should not be confused with baptô. The clearest example that shows the meaning of baptizô is a pickle-making recipe from the Greek poet and physician Nicander, who lived about 200 B.C. This recipe is helpful because it uses both words. Nicander says that in order to make a pickle, the vegetable should first be ‘dipped’ (baptô) into boiling water and then ‘baptised’ (baptizô) in the vinegar solution. Both verbs concern the immersing of vegetables in a solution. But the first is temporary. The second, produces a permanent change.” [5] A cucumber, for example, cannot be unpickled. It’s changed in texture, flavor, and shelf-life. The word has a strong metaphorical meaning that contemporary English-speaking Christians miss.

So, being baptized is being essentially transformed into (not for, or so that) forgiveness of sins (which is to say, cancelling, freeing, loosing relational indebtedness). “Into” indicates more of an ongoing action. People were coming from the Judean countryside, from Jerusalem, and Jesus came from as far away as Nazareth. We don’t know exactly where along the Jordan River John was baptizing, and he may have traveled around. One likely spot is in the territory called Perea east of the Jordan River, under Herod Antipas’ rule, about five miles north of the Dead Sea. From Jerusalem, it’s at least eight solid hours of walking through mountainous terrain. The Judean countryside would be further away. Jesus traveled the furthest, according to Mark. Nazareth is about 30 hours of walking distance. That’s a long way to go to be transformed into the forgiveness of sins. We don’t know why he went, but I wouldn’t rule out a desire for transformation.

Perhaps we can forgive the hyperbole of “all the people of Jerusalem were going out” to John the Baptizer to be baptized and openly acknowledge their sins and make amends. We can imagine that “everyone” means he was drawing significant crowds out of the city and towns into the wilderness over a period of time. People who were experiencing forgiveness were spreading the word to others, “You’ve got to experience this! It’s worth the trip! It’s hard to get there, but the way back is easier when you’re not carrying all the extra weight of your sins!”

Why go so far to be transformed into the forgiveness of sins? Maybe there wasn’t anything closer available to them and they were desperate to shed the weight of the wrongs they had done to themselves, to one another, and to the Holy One. They were desperate to amend their lives. I think they were in urgent need of restoration to right relationship with themselves, with their communities, and with the Divine. I know something about this in my own life – about needing forgiveness and being willing to go to great physical, spiritual, and emotional distances in the hope of experiencing restoration, in the hope of experiencing the hearts’ transformation, which is another way to translate repentance. [6]

It’s true for so many Emmanuelites who come great physical, spiritual, and emotional distances. What I want to tell you is, however far the distance to repentance and forgiveness of your relational debts is, go there. Remember that repentance and forgiveness are a posture, rather than a transaction. Repentance and forgiveness don’t change the past, they change the future. According to Reinhold Niebuhr, “forgiveness is the final form of love.” Seek it, ask for it, offer it to others, and be assured that the Holy One is already giving it.

I invite you – I implore you — to renew your baptismal vows to cooperate in Divine meaning making, to cooperate in creating coherence in the chaos and seeing goodness, of respecting the dignity of every human being. Do not let go of Jesus. Walk beside him to the springs of life. [7] Resolve anew to notice the revelations of Divine goodness in all kinds of surprising places this Epiphany-tide. Resolve anew to realize the power of a holy spirit. Resolve anew to live immersed in the amendment of life that repentance and forgiveness offer in ways that will affect our texture and flavor, and prolong our shelf life.

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