The Baptism of Jesus
When I first started thinking about this reflection, I searched “baptism of Jesus,” to see what came up. There were several things, but the one that struck me as most interesting was that baptism by immersion in the Jordan River was a symbolic reenactment of the crossing of the Jordan by the Israelites. Before they entered the Promised Land, Moses gave the people the Law. By the time of John the Baptist and Jesus, a lot of people had gone astray. By immersing them in the Jordan, John was offering them a chance to start over. Repent, that is, change.
What does baptism mean in our time? Unlike many of you, I was baptized as a middle aged adult. I remember the event and also the process of deciding to be baptized. Who else here remembers their baptism?
I wasn’t baptized as a child because my parents weren’t religious, but I did go to Sunday school for a while. At some point I was moved from the Episcopal church to the Methodist church. Many years later, when I asked my mother why, she said it was because the priest wanted to baptize me.
When I wandered into St. Alban’s, at the age of 50, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for. I realized very quickly that whatever it was, I was finding it here. And every Sunday, I would hear that communion was open to all Baptized Christians, so I stayed in my pew. I began to resent my parents for putting me in this awkward position of having to make a conscious decision and then stand up here in front of a lot of people that I really didn’t know very well at that point and go through this ritual. I questioned whether I really “believed enough” to do this. I read books – Kathleen Norris, C.S. Lewis, Madeleine L’Engle. I listened to people. And I came to realize that baptism wasn’t some sort of reward for getting it right, it was a commitment to walk on the path. I felt ready for that.
A few weeks ago, we heard John preaching angrily to the people who had come to be baptized. He called them a brood of vipers and warned them of the wrath to come. But when they asked him what they should do, he told them to share their food and clothing with those who had none. He told the tax collectors to collect only what was prescribed, and the soldiers not to extort money. If you’re committed to making a positive change in your life, these really aren’t impossible demands.
So many things changed for me after I joined St. Alban’s. I made new friends, friends who didn’t think it was stupid to tell the cashier she’d given me too much change, or admit I’d made a mistake about something. I learned how to forgive myself for my worst mistakes. And I found so many opportunities to do meaningful work, from feeding hungry people to standing up for social justice.
Recently, a friend of mine was saying that most of her friends weren’t religious. I laughed and said I was the outlier. With, I’m sure, the best of intentions, she said, “oh, no, if it makes you feel good to go to church…”
I found that just a tiny bit patronizing. I tried to explain, without sounding too defensive, that I feel that my church community supports my best intentions.
We all know that institutions are problematic, and Church with a capital C is certainly an institution. But church as a community of people trying their best to follow Jesus, which is how I see this church, is a force for good. Together, we can feed people and clothe people and show up for people. We can write letters and give money to support organizations that are taking on tasks that are beyond our abilities. These things make a difference. As Christine said recently, we shine our light where we can, and there’s a little less darkness around us.
I don’t think that my conversion and baptism story is particularly dramatic. It’s not as if I had been, say, a slave trader who suddenly saw God. But it did change the direction of my life. I think being baptized was an important step. It signified a commitment to keep coming back, to see where this path was leading me. And I’m still here.
Does anyone else want to add anything about baptism or being baptized?