Origin Story [Baptism of Our Lord A - Matthew 3:13-17]

 The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Matthew 3:13-17

 

Origin Story

 

When my boys were younger, back in the days when bedtime stories were five minutes long, rather 500 pages long, they loved this book of superhero origin stories.  The book was a collection of the earliest tales of famous comic book protagonists such as: Thor, Hulk, Iron Man, and Black Widow.  They were tales of tragedy and triumph, conflict and resolution.  And of course they featured enough radiation to turn every turtle on this planet into a ninja. 

 

What struck me, though, about these stories is that each was no more than a beginning, the first chapter of a much longer story.  Those beginnings mattered, were significant, because of everything that followed.  If Peter Parker’s spider bite healed up nicely and he went on to have a very fulfilling career in the insurance industry, his school field trip to the Hall of Science is nothing more than an amusing anecdote dusted off for a high school reunion.  It is only a story of stunning significance because that spider endowed young Peter with super strength and the ability to stick to walls.

 

But it takes more than just super skills to write an origin story.  Spiderman is in the book, not because he can hang upside down, but because he took seriously Uncle Ben’s advice: “With great power comes great responsibility.”  He used his powers for good.  With those amazing spidey-skills and tingling spidey-senses at his disposal, Peter Parker dedicated his life to helping those in need and fighting for justice.  That is the story, the larger and longer story, that makes a moment, something as quick as a bug bite, into an epic origin story.

 

There are not too many stories that show up in every year of the three-year Sunday lectionary cycle.  And so when one does, we can be sure it is important.  The story of Jesus’ baptism is one of those annual occurrences.  Every January, on the Sunday after the Epiphany, we read the story of Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan – either from Luke, Mark, or, as is the case this year, from Matthew’s Gospel.  We can’t make a trip through the Church year without remembering that important moment in Jesus’ life.

 

You know the basic details: John is standing waste deep in the river, insulting the religious professionals on his shore.  Jesus approaches; asks to be baptized.  John, feeling understandably unworthy, declines.  Jesus insists.  Jesus, as he tends to do, gets his way.  And so John baptizes Jesus in the water.  Jesus comes up saturated in Holy Spirit.  And the voice of God the Father declares, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” 

 

Presumably John the Baptist baptized many, many people in that river.  No one gets the nickname “the Baptist” for dunking one or two.  That’s just not how it works.  But we know only one baptismal candidate by name, and that is, of course, Jesus. 

 

While two of the four Gospels include birth narratives, it is this story, the story of Jesus’ baptism, that really serves as his origin story.  In every Gospel Jesus walks away from the Jordan prepared for his public ministry.  It is the Spirit that visits him in the water that animates his work.  It is the voice from Heaven that grounds his identity.  

 

But it is Jesus’ life that makes us look at water differently.  It is Jesus’ life that draws us to search the water for that same Spirit.  What happened in that holy moment was special; and we know that because of every moment followed.

 

Today yet another little human will go swimming in that enchanted water.  Once again we will find Holy Spirit in our font; the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead will work a miracle in our midst.  As God does each time the sacred water wets a human head, God will declare God’s undying love for that new Christian.  And that voice of heavenly affirmation will ground this child’s identity in ways that he will never fully comprehend but will forever rely on nonetheless. 

 

He will leave that font, as you did, possessed by the same Spirit that alighted on Christ so many centuries ago.  He will walk out our substantial doors, as you do, with a divine mission in this world – blessed with all of the heavenly grace required to complete that mission.  Today this little one will be endowed with great powers, supernatural powers, Holy Spirit powers that will allow him to change this world for the better: that will give him the strength to do justice, to show mercy, to advance the cause of love.

 

But changing the world for the better is a choice.  Using those heavenly powers for good is a choice – a choice we are called to make every day.  A promise that we choose to keep with each breath we take.  “With great power comes great responsibility.”  And that is truer of nothing more than it is of the sacrament of baptism. 

 

Baptism is the primary sacrament; we come to life in the font.  We are raised from the water and set on a new course.  It is our beginning, the first moment of a journey that stretches into eternity. 

 

At the font, you were marked as Christ’s own forever.  God took hold of you and will never let go.  But it is up to you whether your life tells that story or not.  It is your life, the life you live in this world, that decides whether that holy moment becomes your origin story or just a fading photo in some dusty album. 

 

You might not remember your baptism, but you are called to remember your baptism.  And to allow that holy moment to shape your days, your nights, your decisions, your priorities, your values, your relationships, your perspective, your everything.  You are called to live in such a way that your obituary begins at the font because that is the only way to make sense of the good you did in this world.

 

Live a life that tells people you’ve been to the water.  Let them see the water spots on your love.  Live a life that ensures no one you encounter can ever look at water in the same way again.