And So It Begins
As I sat with our text this week, I was taken in by shifts of perspective.
Let me unpack that a little.
If our gospel writer were directing a documentary film about the life of Jesus, I imagine a series of camera shots here in Luke’s third chapter that zoom wide and explore a big picture moment and then that zoom in dramatically to explore some small but vital detail, a detail which is somehow juxtaposed against the prior view.
We enter today’s text zoomed out to a wide angle, high level image - with an historical time marker – a list of political figures who represent a structure of power influenced by (or at the disposal of…) Roman control. The named historical figures give us a sense of calendar time – we can estimate that this is approximately 29 CE. That means that we are a long way from the infant and child Jesus of the Christmas and Epiphany stories. John and Jesus who we met in utero are now men, fully grown, in fact middle aged by standards of the first century.
And from that historical time marker, we hear about the word of God coming to John, son of Zechariah. This is written in a style which would traditionally announce a prophet. The camera suddenly zooms in on a tight shot of John in “the wilderness.” While we don’t have a specific place name other than “all the region around the Jordan,” my own imagination places John just north of the Dead Sea, where the Jordan runs shallow, wide and muddy, not far from the harsh landscape of Qumran, where Essenes, a sect of Jews who took purity laws very seriously, had established themselves apart from the big cities and towns of the region.
John, in his first words, is quoting the prophet Isaiah, who was originally speaking to Israel in anticipation of their Babylonian exile coming to an end at last. The passage describes preparing “the way” of the Lord – the path or road for God to traverse in order to be with God’s people once again. But the language of “the Way” set against that earlier political historical marker would also cue readers to think about the Roman roads that were being built throughout the Middle East to simplify trade and military endeavors.
John goes on to admonish the gathered, urging them to repent. We talked about this portion of the text just four weeks ago during Advent. The unspecified crowd, the tax collectors, and the soldiers each ask in turn what they should do in order live repentant lives, and John advises each group, in a specific way, to live with enough, to live without creating scarcity or hardship for others.
And the people, amazed and taken in by John’s words, amazed by the promise of seeing the salvation of God, ask if John might be the Messiah.
And here I see the camera zoom way out again to some computer generated image of something like a superhero – as John describes the one who is coming: one who is more powerful,
one whose baptism will not be with muddy water from the Jordan
but with fire and the Holy Spirit,
one whose winnowing fork is already in hand as he prepares to separate the wheat from the chafe – chafe that will be burnt with “unquenchable fire.”
And once again, the camera cuts back to a close shot John in the wilderness, preaching and exhorting and baptizing…while we hear some details about how he is eventually imprisoned because he dared to tell Herod that he was living an immoral life.
But then, maybe we see John fade as the image of another man comes into focus by the river – a man praying after his baptism, wet, dripping and deeply focused. As we watch John’s cousin Jesus in prayer, the sky opens and something like a white dove comes down onto him as a deep disembodied voice speaks the words, “you are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
I want us to feel a big contrast here – John described a Messiah who would wield fire and the Holy Spirit, who was coming to separate the wheat from the chafe.
But what we see is a man in prayer, touched by the Holy Spirit in the form of a gentle dove, claimed as the beloved by God’s own voice.
Can you see all of that in your mind’s eye?
We are going to be learning about Jesus through the lens of Luke’s gospel from now through Easter. And from there, we will focus on the Book of Acts. Both Luke and Acts are written by the same author – Acts is a continuation of the story of Jesus’ followers from the resurrection forward.
So through the same author’s eyes, we’ll watch Jesus’ ministry unfold. We’ll watch his disciples begin to share his work as the crowds grow larger. We’ll watch Jesus enter into Jerusalem and then be crucified. We’ll wait as the empty tomb is discovered, and then we’ll see the disciples scatter and regroup to take Jesus' teachings forward, out from Jerusalem and eventually into all of the world.
We have the opportunity to listen for what is unique in Luke’s storytelling. We have an opportunity to listen for the specific ways Jesus’ teaching is shared…because this particular telling informs the earliest gatherings of Christians in community. This particular telling of the story lays the groundwork for being the church – being the body of Christ in the world.
And so, this style of zooming out and zooming in and zooming back out again that has marked today’s text sets up an important theme in Luke’s writing.
The story, over and over again, sets up the larger context – let’s say the political powers that led to the oppression of communities of Jews and gentiles living throughout first century Palestine – against the intimate moments of Jesus showing up to teach people using farming or rural metaphors, or to teach a story about a Samaritan – who would be seen by those hearing the teaching as an enemy or an outsider, or to share a meal with friends who he deeply loves.
And if you think back on the story of Jesus’ birth – the story begins with another one of those historical-political markers – “In the days of King Herod of Judea…” as the entry point to the revelation that Zechariah receives about Elizabeth being pregnant with John the forerunner. But when the Angel Gabriel comes to tell Mary that she is to conceive, time is measured by Elizabeth’s pregnancy – Elizabeth is in her sixth month of pregnancy.
These juxtapositions set up a prompt for us - they should nudge us to wonder about the nature of these two things – the big picture of history and economy and politics up against the relationships that Jesus has and the lessons that he teaches. We should be nudged to ask what matters most. What warrants our own attention and focus. Jesus doesn’t enter the story marching into the Temple or challenging the powers of the day – not yet. And Jesus doesn’t enter the story brandishing fire and carrying a winnowing fork.
At first, Jesus shows up as a baby born to a teenage mom in a stable.
And then, Jesus shows up to this first moment of his public ministry submitting himself to a baptism in a muddy river in the wilderness. Praying.
These juxtapositions will also lead us, over the course of this gospel, toward the way Jesus centers the humble, the poor, the weak, the mourning. This juxtaposition sets up the DRAMA of who will be declared blessed by God.
I also want to pick up on another detail here and draw the thread through from the very beginning of the story of Jesus that we just heard at Christmas.
The Holy Spirit shows up in bodily form like a dove in this baptism– but this is not the FIRST TIME in Luke’s gospel that the Holy Spirit has shown up.
That same Holy Spirit has come over Mary and caused her conception. Mary is greeted by Elizabeth who is filled with the Holy Spirit as she proclaims Mary as blessed among women. Zechariah is filled with the Holy Spirit as his son John is presented for circumcision and naming. At Jesus’ naming, Simeon is overcome by the Holy Spirit and sees what lies before Jesus, declaring him a light for both gentiles and for Israel.
And if you know the book of Acts, you know the way the Holy Spirit shows up to gather the followers so that they are able to hear and understand one another in new ways. This story of Jesus from Luke’s gospel is infused with the Holy Spirit – and we should pay attention to that because too often we forget how we call on the Holy Spirit to bless bread and wine and the waters of baptism to draw us back into relationship with God.
And in Luke’s gospel, the Holy Spirit is an accessible and tangible presence experienced by many. This story in Luke’s gospel is concerned with material experience - this arrival of the Spirit is NOT some intangible thing – it had form and substance like a dove at Jesus’ baptism. And like wind and flames at Pentecost.
I am so excited about this journey we are taking together – because nothing brings me quite as much joy as a manifestation of the Holy Spirit – as an awareness moment by moment of the Holy Spirit and her power among us. As we remember Jesus’ baptism today, I hope that you will remember your own baptism – and remember that YOU were and are surrounded by the Holy Spirit day in and day out. And if you are someone who has not been baptized, and you are curious, I’d love to have that conversation with you.
Friends, we are headed on “the way” – that is our path through life with Jesus. On that path, “the way” we are accompanied by the Holy Spirit. And it will be an adventure! I look forward to exploring how the timeless story told through Luke and Acts shapes our adventure, our work, our understanding of what it means to watch for and participate in the Kin-dom of God.
May it be so.
Amen.
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