Jesus is not like John

Text: Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
Other texts: Isaiah 43:1-7

If you look on page 935 in the Bible in the pews, you’ll see in the right column a heading that says “The Baptism of Jesus.” There are headings like this all over the Bible. But those headings are not actually in the Bible. They are put in there by the editor of this particular edition of the Bible. They are editorial notes that are to guide you. But they are sometimes unreliable guides and misleading. They reflect a certain agenda.

The agenda today is to highlight the baptism of Jesus. The baptism of Jesus has been a theological big deal for many centuries. That’s because people don’t agree on its meaning. If baptism is about washing away sins, for example, why did Jesus, who has been considered sinless, need a washing? So today in the church year is called the “Baptism of our Lord,” as you can see from the cover of the bulletin.

In the Gospel of Matthew, much is made of the baptism story (it is on page 879 if you are interested in looking at it). But in Luke, whom we just heard, the baptism itself is pretty much described in passing. It says: Jesus, having been baptized and while praying, the heavens opened up. That’s it for the baptism part. And when they opened a dove-like body and a voice from heaven spoke. Now the dove and the voice (and what the voice said, which I’ll talk about in a minute), that was significant and powerful. But the baptism: not so much. So to call this story the baptism of Jesus is like taking the Red Line to see the Tall Ships or the Circ du Soleil and calling the story: “My trip on the MBTA.” It is true, but it is not the main thing.

There is always a tension between John and Jesus in the Bible. Maybe that is because they were competitors of sorts, competing for crowds and for disciples. In the stories of Jesus, John the baptizer has an important but short-lived role. In the Gospel of Luke—today’s reading—John disappears as soon as Jesus appears. In fact, in Luke, as soon as Jesus starts his ministry, John is put into prison. Those verses (18, 19, and 20) are skipped in the assigned lectionary reading. Luke can’t ignore John, but it seems he doesn’t really want John in the story. That may be because John and Jesus have very different messages. John likes to talk about the winnowing fire. Jesus likes to talk about something else.

Lutherans are fond of dyads. Things in twos that both support and fight with one another. Like John and Jesus, I guess. Saints and sinners, infinite in the finite, things like that. One of the dyads is the law and the gospel. The law tells you what God wants you to do. The gospel tells you God loves you anyway. The two are related, of course. God loves you and so tells you what to do so that you do not wander aimlessly. And one of the things God wants you to do is not worry about whether God loves you. But the law and the gospel have very different flavors. They are opposite ends of what I once called the crab/joy scale. The law is a little crabby and the gospel pretty joyous.

John is on the law, the crabby, side of things. “You brood of vipers, who warned you of the wrath to come?” he asked the crowd before Jesus arrived. Pretty crabby. He is big on repentance, which means changing direction. People are doing the wrong thing. They had better do the right thing, or else. In Luke, and in Luke only, John lists some of the things they must do: share with others who have less than you, don’t be greedy or corrupt, don’t extort things by threats. John likes the notion of a winnowing fork and the unquenchable burning of the chaff. It is not that John wants people to burn. He wants them to live. But the way to life for John is through some repentant action on the part of the sinners, the vipers.

Jesus, as you can guess, is the on the gospel, the joy side of things. The so-called story of the baptism of Jesus is a story of God (or we assume God, since it only says a voice from heaven), a story of God declaring God’s love for Jesus. You are my beloved son, the voice says. I am very pleased with you. The word that God uses means the merciful love of one creature for another. It is the word Jesus uses when he talks about loving both neighbor and enemy. It is not affectionate love, though it doesn’t hurt to hear affection in the voice from heaven. It is the love of unconditional acceptance. God declares that Jesus is loved. And that God is pleased with Jesus. This declaration has nothing to do with the actions of Jesus. It is an announcement, not a reward for righteous behavior. Or even not encouragement for good behavior in the future. While John likes burning chaff, Jesus likes the notion of the saved grain. Like John, Jesus wants people to live, too. But the way of life is through the love of God independent of the actions on the part of sinners, who are God’s children.

Both the law and the gospel serve to rescue people. Which is what we call redemption. Redemption is the main story of the Bible. The oldest story (it is a song) in the Bible is a tale of God’s freeing the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. Rescuing them. Redeeming them. And later, God brings home the people of Israel from their captivity in Babylon, their exile from their homeland. One interpretation—the crabby interpretation—of the Babylonian exile is that Israel had messed up big time, and that as a consequence lost their land and their God. But the joyous interpretation is that God never gave up on God’s people. Over and over God tells the people that while they may have broken the covenant, God will not. In the portion of Isaiah which we just heard—which is from the time of the exile—God says, “do not fear.” God says, “I have redeemed you.” God says, “You are precious in my sight.” “I will be with you.” “I love you.” Jesus is part of this story.

Sometimes we secretly think John is right. We feel viper-ish (like vipers). We are sinners. We do stuff that we never should do. We hurt people and ourselves. We are cowardly. We don’t do stuff we wished we had. Didn’t speak up, didn’t help, didn’t love. We get into horrible jams. We fall short. It would be helpful if there were something we could by our own efforts do to fix all this. And there are things we can do better by trying.

But we cannot totally rescue ourselves. Even if we keep a stiff upper lip, throw our shoulders back, pick ourselves up by our bootstraps, and step forward with new resolve. If we think we can depend on ourselves or on others, we will be disappointed and sad and life will not be in us.

We need light in our deep darkness. We need guidance in our deep confusion. We need courage in our deep fears. We need love in our deep alone-ness.

Jesus knows this. What Jesus promises is a way out of the tangles. What we sometimes call sin. The repentance that John preaches says: You messed up, but it is OK. You messed up, but you are doing better. Good for you. The gospel that Jesus teaches says: You are in a messed up place. But I will free you. I will get you out of there. I will bring you home.

Where John preaches repentance, Jesus preaches unearned love. Where John preaches fire, Jesus preaches forgiveness. Where John harasses, Jesus heals.

There is a lot of John the baptizer in our theology. Perhaps it suits us to think we are at least sort-of masters of our fate. Perhaps it suits us to think of ourselves as unworthy vipers sometimes. But this is not what Jesus, the one we follow, calls us. Jesus tells us what the voice from heaven told him. You are beloved. I am pleased with you. And what God said to God’s people. I call you by name. You are mine. I love you.