Baptism of our Lord C: Forgiveness… and So Much More!

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

Dear Partner in Preaching,

You may remember from a New Testament class in seminary that Jesus’ baptism – which we typically take for granted as part of the biblical story and, for that matter, the church year – was actually quite scandalous. You can appreciate the logic. If baptism is for the remission of sin… and we confess Jesus was sinless… then why was Jesus baptized? Or, worse, are we contradicting ourselves: is baptism not about forgiveness, or was Jesus not sinless?

That ambivalence, combined with a similar ambivalence about the character of John the Baptist (he also had disciples and was a revered teacher, but he can’t/mustn’t/won’t be seen as having authority over Jesus even though he’s the one doing the baptizing), leads to some interesting variations in the baptismal stories. All the Gospels report John declaring Jesus’ superiority, for instance, and make clear that John is more or less the facilitator of the baptism while the Holy Spirit is the true agent. John – the Fourth Evangelist, that is – goes even further and doesn’t even record John (the Baptist) as baptizing Jesus (or even acknowledging directly that Jesus was baptized) but rather as only having witnessed the Spirit descending upon Jesus. Luke, in today’s passage, take a middle road. John is baptizing and Jesus is baptized, but it all feels rather passive: “Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying,….” Moreover, narratively, Luke has interspersed John’s active baptizing and Jesus’ more passive baptism with the report of John’s imprisonment by Herod, dislocating John from the scene further.

So, yeah, you get the sense that the early church, including the Evangelists, weren’t quite sure what to make of baptism and found what we call “the Baptism of our Lord” at the very least uncomfortable, perhaps confusing, and possibly quite scandalous.

But I wonder if they – and by extension we – have it all a bit backwards. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I think this whole thing is rather scandalous, too. But what strikes is that rather than be shocked that Jesus is baptized like we are, maybe we should be surprised, shocked, scandalized, and even stunned by the fact that we are baptized like Jesus is!

A lot of the issue, I think, revolves around forgiveness and its connection to baptism. Baptism is about forgiveness. Forgiveness is something we need. So we need Baptism. This much seems clear. But – and back to the original question – if Jesus doesn’t need forgiveness then he doesn’t need to be baptized, and so why is Jesus baptized?

But maybe we’ve misunderstood forgiveness a bit… and therefore the relationship between forgiveness and baptism… and therefore baptism itself. Confused yet? 🙂 Let me see if I can break this down a bit.

Yes, baptism is about forgiveness. But it’s also about relationship, about being named and claimed as children of God. And I think we often tend to think of forgiveness as a mechanism rather than a result, by-product or, most importantly, gift. That is, we can easily slip into thinking that God forgives us in order that we can be named, claimed, and called God’s children. But I don’t think that’s accurate at all. God forgives us not to make us God’s children but because we already are God’s children. Forgiveness is a result of God’s love for us, not a condition of that love. Forgiveness, to say it one more way, is the gift of a loving God and by-product of that love, not a mechanism by which to achieve it.

This confusion isn’t linked only to forgiveness and baptism. We often make the same mistake when it comes to the law. God gives Israel (and by extension us) the Commandments – and the law more generally – in order that Israel/we can improve their/our behavior and, thereby, become God’s people. But read the story carefully. God makes the promise of covenant and Israel enthusiastically accepts this promise in chapter 19 of Exodus, and then the Commandments are given in chapter 20. God doesn’t give Israel/us the law in order for us to become God’s children, that is, but because we already are. The Commandments are gift, not mechanism.

And it doesn’t end here. The most flagrant instance of this confusion of gift and mechanism occurs with how we regard and interpret the cross. The dominant understanding of the cross in the Western church for nearly the last millennium is often referred to as the “substitutionary” (or penal) theory of atonement. The logic, again, is unmistakable: We are sinners. Sinners deserve punishment. Jesus, who is sinless and therefore doesn’t deserve punishment, suffers it in our place on the cross. Jesus is our substitute. Therefore, Jesus’ death on the cross is necessary for God to forgive us. Crystal clear, right?

But there are so many contradiction in this crystal-clear explanation that it’s downright painful. I mean, if the cross is a necessary condition of forgiveness, then why does Jesus – and by extension God – forgive people throughout his ministry (and before he dies on the cross)? Moreover, is forgiveness really forgiveness if someone else suffers in your place? (I mean, if I default on my mortgage and you pay it for me, the bank hasn’t forgiven me, it just found someone else to pay.) And do we really believe that God, as creator and sustainer of the universe, can’t forgive absent violence and bloodshed and punishment? (Something, by the way, that we mere mortals seems to manage from time to time.)

All of which pushes me to confess that the cross isn’t what makes it possible for God to love and forgive us, but rather that the cross is what happens because already God loves and forgives us. God in Jesus comes to offer us forgiveness out of love and we’d rather kill him than admit that we need forgiveness and love.

Okay, back to the Baptism of our Lord. Yes, Baptism is about forgiveness. But forgiveness is not a mechanism but rather is a gift. We aren’t forgiven in Baptism in order that God can call us God’s children, but rather we are forgiven because we already are God’s children. So, yes, baptism is about forgiveness. But it’s also about so much more! It’s about love, identify, affirmation, commitment, promise, and still more. In fact, I’d argue that Baptism is first about all these other things and then, as by-product and gift, about forgiveness. That is, in Baptism God proclaims God’s great love for us; calls, names, and claims us as God’s beloved children; gives us the gift of the Holy Spirit;…and then, because of God’s love for us, God also promises to forgive, renew, and restore us at all times.

Which is why I think that what ought to surprise us, Dear Partner, is not that Jesus is baptized like we are, but rather that we get to be baptized – and therefore named as beloved child – just like Jesus is.

This is a lot, and I appreciate your willingness to wade through it all with me. And maybe – make that, probably 🙂 – you don’t need to go into all this in your sermon. Maybe it’s enough simply to note that at his Baptism, Jesus hears God say these unbelievably important words of love, affirmation and identity: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And the incredible, shocking, unexpected, and even scandalous thing is that in our Baptism, we hear the same thing: “You are my child, my beloved, and with you I am well pleased.”

Athanasius, my favorite theologian of the early church, put it this way: Jesus became one of us – scandalous! – so that we might become like him – even more scandalous yet!

Thank you, Dear Partner, for proclaiming not simply the scandal of Jesus’ baptism, but the real scandal of ours. Because those words – “you are my beloved child” – still have the power to change lives. Blessings on your proclamation this Sunday and always, Dear Partner, Preacher, and Beloved Child of God!

Yours in Christ,

David

PS: I know I get a little carried away when it comes to offering a different interpretation of the cross because I think how we view the cross very much reveals how we think about God. If you’re interested in more, I try to work all this out in more detail in the Making Sense of the Cross (Augsburg Fortress: 2011), which is written as a conversation and has study materials to use in the congregation.