Inclusive Waters 1-12-25
Inclusive Waters
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22; Is 43:1-7
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Is 43:1-7
But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you. Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life. Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you; I will say to the north, “Give them up,” and to the south, “Do not withhold; bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth— everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.”
Prayer –
The theme linking the first reading and the Gospel passage for this Sunday is inclusion and chosen-ness. In Luke’s account of Jesus’ baptism, Jesus is the chosen one. After the Holy Spirit rests upon him, a heavenly voice speaks directly to Jesus, calling him “Son” and “Beloved,” one with whom God is pleased. In Isaiah, Judeans living in Babylon are the ones of God’s choosing. Found within a section of the book often called Second Isaiah because the words reflect the fifth-century setting of the Babylonian exile and not the eighth-century setting of Isaiah of Jerusalem, these comforting words assure the community that God knows them and they belong to God.
We must note in Isaiah 43, the verbs of creation in verses 1 and 7 form an ‘inclusio’ that helps the reader focus on the actions of the maker of the universe. Bara (create) and yetzer (form) are words used in Genesis, respectively, to describe phases of God’s creative work. But rather than talking about the universe as a whole or even just the earth, these words are personalized to the people of Israel in Isaiah 43. The God who made all that is, is the same God who made a people for Godself. And yet, this passage hinges on an even more intimate work than creation: redemption.
The notion of the goel, or kinsperson-redeemer is central to the poetry of Isaiah 43. The goel was a relative who was responsible for protecting, defending, avenging and redeeming the members of an extended family. However, the main duties of a goel fell in two categories. The first duty was to provide a credible threat of vengeance that would prevent violence during times of decentralized power. The second duty of the goel was to redeem relatives from economic destitution. If a person became impoverished, such that they had to sell property, or even their own freedom to pay for their debts, the duty of their goel was to pay a ransom so that the person’s property or liberty may be restored to them. It is this last role of redeemer that God speaks of in Isaiah 43.
God insists that Israel should not fear, because God has redeemed (the verb form of goel) them. And then God goes on to claim Israel as God’s own and calls them by name. I understand the calling by name as a marking of familiar intimacy. The person is no longer called “slave” or “Judahite,” but restored to their whole personhood by the use of their name. God is assuring Israel that God has already acted as a kinsperson redeemer to them, and will continue to do so. When they walk through mighty seas, small rivers, great fires or little flames, the God-who-redeems will accompany them and protect them. No matter in what direction they have been spirited away, God will redeem children from their bondage and captivity and restore them to their families. This is the duty of a goel and it is the promise of God: to free family members from bondage and to redeem those who have been taken away.
The anonymous poet of Isaiah 40–54 likely was not addressing those who had been forcibly removed from Jerusalem during the Babylonian conquest in the sixth century but instead their children and even grandchildren—some of whom may have been born in Babylon. Consistently, it attempts to convince this second and third generation of exiles that their true home is Jerusalem and that God can and will facilitate their return to their ancestral lands. Like a grief-stricken mother, Jerusalem is eagerly awaiting their return home.
Beneath the extravagant promises of care and protection expressed in this passage (and elsewhere in Second Isaiah), we can hear the people’s pain. Their sense of abandonment. Their fear. Their doubt in God’s power and care. Indeed, this collection acknowledges that Jerusalem was once abandoned by God and has already paid double for its sins. How can the people trust in God’s care now? A question that has been raised by countless people of faith across time.
While First Isaiah once warned that the enemy was a weapon wielded against Israel by the hand of God, Second Isaiah now celebrates the power of God’s arm to save. God has forgiven Jerusalem, loves the people, and is ready to comfort them. As the creator of all things, God can control geography for their sake. Far superior to the idols of Babylonian religion, God has anointed Cyrus, the ruler of the Persian Empire, to destroy their Babylonian oppressors.
According to our passage, God is Israel’s creator and also its redeemer, the One who will protect the returning bands as they embark on their own exodus from captivity; they will pass through the waters as their ancestors once braved the Red Sea. “Do not fear”—the same reassurance that Moses gave to the fearful Hebrews escaping Egypt and that God gave to Hagar, Abraham, Joshua, the shepherds, and a host of biblical characters in peril—appears twice in this short unit.
These promises of defying fire and flood are surely not literal promises of physical protection. Instead, they are words intended to stir the emotions. They are words of the heart, extravagant promises of commitment, care, and love in the face of danger. In bold terms, this poem affirms and comforts those who feel separate from and distrusting of God.
By focusing solely on Jesus’ baptism for this Sunday, preachers sometimes overlook the power of Second Isaiah’s words to speak into hearers’ hearts, especially those whose painful experiences have left them doubtful of their own worth and God’s care. “Do not fear.” “I love you.” “You are precious.” Who in the congregation needs to hear those powerful words yet again? The folk who have been traumatized by violent Christian rhetoric? Those struggling if they have done the right thing, wondering if they are woefully aware of their own failures? The aging who are seeking a sense of purpose and meaning in a society that too often equates people’s value with their productivity? Any person who wonders if they are included in God’s grace, mercy and everlasting peace.
As Presbyterians, we believe that baptism is an outward sign of an inward grace – that is, we are marked and claimed as God’s beloved daughters and sons. We have the ultimate gift of inclusion that is offered in baptismal waters, the gift of redemption. In other words, the gift of inclusion which raises the question for me, does Jesus’ baptism matter more redemptively, than mine or yours? So, could it be that the waters of baptism, Jesus’ baptism, are actually waters of inclusion?
As Presbyterians, we believe that Baptism is the sign and seal of inclusion in God’s grace – that sounds a lot like – chosen as a beloved son and daughter of God’s grace. The Book of Order tells us that ‘Baptism is God’s gift of grace and God’s summons to respond to that grace – which means that in our baptism we are called to live out of that Belovedness.’ Being chosen, included, as one of God’s beloved ones is not about exclusion of others; rather, it is about accepting others in their uniqueness. It is not a competitive choice, but a compassionate choice; perhaps too difficult to wrap our minds around it, but a place that speaks deep into our hearts.
I have to admit that for many of us it is difficult to believe or accept that we are included as God’s Beloved as a core truth for our lives. It seems that we have a way of running around in large or small circles, always looking for someone or something to convince us of our Belovedness. It is as if we continue to refuse to hear the voice that speaks from the baptismal waters and says to us – you are my Beloved. That voice has always been there but it seems that we are more eager to listen to other excluding louder voices that say, “prove that you are worth something; do something relevant, spectacular or powerful.” Meanwhile, the soft, gentle voice that speaks in the silence and solitude of my heart all too often remains unheard, or at least, unconvincing.
Listen to these words from scripture – “I have called you by name, from the very beginning. You are mine and I am yours. You are my Beloved. I have molded you in the depths of the earth and knitted you together in your mother’s womb. I have carved you in the palms of my hands and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace. I look at you with infinite tenderness and care for you with a care more intimate than that of a mother for her child. I have counted every hair on your head and guided you at every step. Wherever you go, I go with you and wherever you rest, I keep watch. I will not hide my face from you. You know me as your own as I know you as my own. You belong to me . . . wherever you are, I will be. Nothing will ever separate us. We are one.” (Life of the Beloved, pp. 25-32) Those are words of inclusion, chosen-ness.
Our passages today are reminders, that the inclusive waters of Jesus’ baptism are forever, have a lasting, even terminal aspect of inclusion that can never be lost. We have all too often easily succumbed to the exclusive tides of our society and culture – thinking that the grace we receive is about a divine scorecard that may in fact exclude some who don’t measure up. God doesn’t keep score. God loves us – Period, Exclamation Point – no question mark whatsoever. So, remember, you are beloved, you are included, you are marked – the inclusive waters of Jesus’ baptism includes you, me, all of us – and that makes the difference – thanks be to God – amen.