What Shall We Call Today?

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

Today, as you can see, is called the Baptism of Our Lord. But perhaps we should call it something else.

There is a lot of ink in the scholarly press about the baptism of Jesus. There is a lot of theological theorizing and worrying about it. Preachers are advised to preach today about the meaning of baptism, and of the relationship between baptism and the sinful life.

But in the Gospel of Luke, at least, baptism is not the main point. In fact, it is hardly a point at all. “Now when all the people were baptized,” it says, “and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened.” There is a lot more going on here than the baptism of Jesus, which is mentioned only in passing.

To focus on this baptism in the life of Jesus is to miss an important part of Luke’s story of Jesus. Jesus is a person of the people. Throughout Luke, Jesus is allied with the poor and the oppressed. Jesus is poor. It is easy to imagine—and people do—to imagine Jesus standing in line with all the other people waiting for his turn. (Though it does not say so in the Bible, and who knows whether there were any lines). To emphasize unduly the moment of baptism is to spiritualize Jesus in a way that Luke would not have admired or intended.

It is hard to say how far we should take this thinking. Jesus was not the only one baptized. Was he the only one to hear the voice from heaven, which we assume to be God’s voice? You are my son, whom I love, God says. But does not God love all God’s sons and daughters? Does God love Jesus especially? Maybe God murmurs in the ears of all the newly baptized: I love you. You who were baptized as adults, how was it in the moment? Did you hear such a whisper?

No matter how or whether we answer these questions, it is clear that this particular event in the life of Jesus is a kind of inauguration. Plus a transfer of power. This event—and not only in Luke’s Gospel—marks the beginning of the ministry of Jesus. From this day forward he is Jesus whom the people follow, all in hope, some even to their deaths. And John fades to the background (in the verses we skipped, Herod puts him in jail).

How then, should we call this day?

Maybe we should call it the Call of Our Lord Sunday. We could compare the voice of God to Jesus embodied in the dove-like thing with the voice of God to Moses embodied in the burning bush. Luke often relates Jesus to Moses. Perhaps God’s message to Jesus was his call to ministry, as it was to Moses. The message to Jesus would then have been a loving invitation. An invitation coupled perhaps with a little arm twisting.

If this is a call to Jesus, was Jesus surprised? We think not, since we know the rest of the story, plus we have in our minds 2000 years of interpretation. But that is not how it unfolds in Luke. We just do not know. And if he was surprised, was it a pleasant surprise? How does Jesus, human Jesus, see his short, miraculous, homeless, and violence-touched life ahead of him? Is he eager or suspicious or reluctant though willing? Being called by God is a mixed bag more often than not. Ask any prophet.

Or maybe we should call it the Announcement to Our Lord Sunday. In Matthew and Mark, who also in other years have a thing to say about this event, this interchange with Jesus is more public. For them, it is a confirmation that Jesus, this particular man, has been singled out and everyone had better know it. In those Gospels, Jesus strangely has not much to do with it, other than to be an object of God’s remark.

But in Luke, it seems that only Jesus hears this particular communication. It is addressed directly to Jesus. Is this a secret between the two of them, father and son? Perhaps God here is preparing Jesus for the journey ahead. Or as God did Elijah, encouraging Jesus not to despair of hardship and the upcoming temptations which follow almost immediately. Or simply reminding Jesus who he is, a child of God, not alone.

Or maybe we should call it God Says I Love You Sunday. There are lots of ways to translate what God says to Jesus, and each Bible does it differently. We have our Bible: You are my son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased. Or the similar: you are my beloved son. Or the slightly more direct: My beloved son, in you I am well pleased. I like this one: In you I have found delight. Or this one, which is from the paraphrase Bible called the Message: You are my son, pride of my life. But I like best this one from the fairly rigorous translation of the NIV: You are my son, whom I love. Which is, after all, the point.

What is happening here is sheer grace. God is declaring God’s love for his child, Jesus. This is not a statement of approval or reward for past actions. It is not a statement laying out future conditions or expectations. It has nothing to do with anything that Jesus did or will do. It is a free offering of love of Jesus from God.

It is especially powerful after the off-putting hopes for unquenchable fire that we just heard from John. It echoes the first reading from Isaiah, in which God so beautifully says to Israel:

I have called you by name, you are mine. … I will be with you. … you are precious in my sight, … and I love you.

Today is a special day of celebration for this church. Today the four communities of faith that worship here in this building gather again to share a meal together. To give thanks together for all that God has provided us in this place. And to prepare for its future together.

One of the things we learn from the Bible is how God works. In the world and in our lives. There is no doubt that we all and each have been called here. The evidence surrounds you. No doubt some of us find that surprising and others are hardly surprised at all.

God has reminded us that we are God’s church, as all churches are, but not any less. God has issued us a loving invitation. We are inclined to accept.

We go forward now, remembering what we have always known: We are God’s children, precious in God’s sight, loved by God.