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A Sermon Preached at St. Christopher's Episcopal Church, Oak Park, IL
on the First Sunday after the Epiphany: The Baptism of Our Lord Jesus Christ, January 13, 2008 (Year A, RCL)
by the Rev. Paris Coffey

"Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him." - Matthew 3:13

Yesterday marked my tenth year anniversary as rector of St. Christopher's. I was called in October of '97 and preached my first sermon here that Advent, but officially my ministry began Monday, January 12, 1998. A lot has happened since then; a lot of people have come and gone, but this week I've been thinking particularly about Mildred, Edith and Mary Jean. For those of you who don't know, Mildred Perkins, Edith Aldworth and Mary Jean Sanders were part of the bedrock of faith at St. Christopher's for many, many years. Mildred still is, although Edith and Mary Jean have since died. My first week on the job, though, they were all very much alive and so - committed to taking care of their new priest whose family was still in St. Louis - they invited me to dinner.

Mary Jean hosted the four of us, and I can tell you, it was an evening to remember. I'd been warned by Mildred and Edith - in our host's presence I might add - that Mary Jean wasn't much of a cook. The company, though, was wonderful and the atmosphere festive as we visited in Mary Jean's living room where the Christmas tree lights still twinkled. "She leaves it up until Ash Wednesday," said Mildred with a hint of judgment in her voice, to which Mary Jean replied stubbornly, "Well Epiphany's the Orthodox Christmas and Epiphany doesn't end until Lent."

Technically, she's right, although even the Orthodox don't celebrate Christmas for four-plus weeks. Still, I empathize with Mary Jean and am tempted to take my cue from her. After all, I dread the first Sunday after the Epiphany when the trees are gone, the poinsettias are up for grabs and the crèche has been packed away for another year. In fact, I confess that - having succumbed to an artificial tree this year - my own tree is still up and fully decorated. Mary Jean would be proud, although in truth I know that it's time to let go of the infant Jesus to make room for the Jesus we meet in today's Gospel.

This is a Jesus who continues to reveal God to a world beyond that of Mary, Joseph, a handful of shepherds and three wise men. It's a Jesus who, just one week after the visit of the Magi, is seen as a full-grown man discovering more deeply his own identity as prepares to spread abroad the knowledge of God. He prepares to spread it to an ever-widening circle of believers, which I suppose means that it is time to take down the tree and move ahead so that Jesus can grow into all the fullness of God and we can become the people God intends us to be. Indeed, the Baptism of Jesus - not only Matthew's account but that of the other evangelists as well - reveals a great deal about who God is and what God's coming among us in the flesh means for humankind. In fact, in the very first sentence of today's Gospel we discover something important about the Son of God as Matthew writes, "Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan to be baptized by him."

On the surface this sentence seems rather matter-of-fact, and yet it shows intentionality/resolve on the part of Jesus that John the Baptizer finds disconcerting. John, after all, has been preaching baptism for the repentance of sins, and so he's baffled why Jesus, who is without sin, comes to him at the Jordan. "I need to be baptized by you," John protests, "and do you come to me?" He's mortified that a mere mortal should be asked to baptize the Son of God, an attitude that gains even more ground with the later gospel writers. Luke, for example, eliminates John the Baptist from this story so that Jesus appears to baptize himself, while the Fourth Evangelist omits the Baptism altogether, mentioning only that John witnessed the Spirit descend on Jesus like a dove.

Clearly, it's easier to dismiss the Baptism of Jesus than to try and figure out its meaning. And yet if we're to understand the real power of God made human, we must acknowledge that Jesus willingly jumped into the muddy river of life - into the muck and muddle of human sin - and that God was well pleased. God had tried to make this point earlier, or a similar one, when the Son of God/the King of Kings was born in a lowly stable among dirt and cattle dung. This point, though, gets missed beneath the brightness of a star and sound of angels' wings, but there's no missing God's presence in the messiness of human life and sin as Jesus plunges freely into the muddy waters of the Jordan/into the whole of humanity.

It's full emersion, and as a result we enter more fully into the life of Christ/the life of God in our Baptism - a plunge we will recall shortly when we renew our own baptismal vows. We enter God's life more fully as we embrace the necessity of fellowship, of praying for one another and breaking bread together. We discover God's strength more deeply as we persevere in resisting evil when it may be contrary to our nature to do so. We embody God's presence more powerfully as we love our neighbor as ourselves, striving for justice and peace among all people. And we spread abroad Christ's light and love more widely as we respect the dignity of every human being. In short, we become the people God intends us to be - become Christ in the world - not by talking a good game or thinking good thoughts, but by LIVING out our baptismal vows, often without even thinking.

Mildred, Edith and Mary Jean, for example, did this without thinking about it when they invited their new rector to dinner one cold and lonely night. Many of you do it daily without thinking when you greet a homeless person with respect, resist office gossip, or refuse to tolerate a racist joke. All of us are doing it today by sharing in the apostles' teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in the prayers. None of us, though, can do it alone, although together with God's help we can live out our vows with intention, sharing as Matthew puts it, in Jesus' "fulfillment of all righteousness."

What the heck does that mean, though; or perhaps more appropriately, what does Jesus mean when he says to John, who wants to prevent him being baptized, "Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righeousness."? Other translations say to "fulfill the Law," or "to fulfill what God wants you to do." Theologian Richard A. Jensen, though, understands this fulfillment of righteousness to mean "to make the world all right." Writing in his book Preaching the Gospel of Matthew, Jensen tells of the time that Lutheran mentor Joseph Sittler was in Jerusalem and his car broke down. Sittler took the car "to a mechanic to have it fixed," says Jensen and when it was ready, the mechanic started up the engine. Hearing it running perfectly the mechanic announced with pleasure, "Zadik" . . . which is Hebrew for righteousness. "In this context," explains Jensen, "righteousness means, 'It works.'"

To participate, then, in God's fulfillment of righteousness is to make the world work, to run perfectly, to fix or heal it, if you will. Jesus, though, makes the world work not by tuning up its engine or fixing a broken axle - not just by doing something - but by being someone who plunges into the midst of human brokenness, aligning himself with us - warts and all. It's a far cry from our idea of a working world, much less a perfect one, and yet it is this act that pleases God. After all, this is the only act Jesus performs in this passage, an act of love, compassion and understanding -prompting God to announce to those gathered, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

In Bible Encounter on Wednesday our group initially thought these words were announced to Jesus alone as they are in Mark's Gospel. In Mark, though, God says, "You are my Beloved," while in Matthew He or She proclaims, "This is my Son." God is speaking not just to Jesus as he does in Mark, but of Jesus so that all of us might hear. God speaks, aligning God's-self with Jesus so that we might understand God's love, compassion and hope for humankind. We don't have to be perfect. We don't have to be right. We simply have to unite ourselves with the one who unites himself with us - knowing our shortcomings, forgiving our sins, and empowering us to love one another as we have been loved, so that we might, too, might spread Christ light and life to an ever-widening circle of friends.

Amen.