Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
January 13, 2013
The Baptism
of the Lord
Tabula
Rasa. Before I offer the definition of this phrase,
let me first say that I am a bit of a word nerd. Actually, I’m more than just a bit. I love words.
I love language. They don’t just become
part of my vocabulary list, they become intricately associated with the events
in which I learned them. They become a
part of my memories. That’s why I
remember tabula rasa.
I was taking a class on
psychology at St. Thomas Aquinas Junior College, the school I attended for a
couple of years before I transferred to a state university. The class was taught by Father Nolan, who was
one of the dearest, most wonderful persons I’d met at the time. He introduced me to ideas of social witness,
social justice, spiritual formation and tabula
rasa.
Tabula
Rasa
is the idea of, for lack of a better way to phrase it, a blank slate. It is the theory that the mind starts off
originally as a blank slate. It’s also
the idea of something still in a pristine state. Untouched, unmarred by experience, life,
anything.
We were discussing tabula rasa in psychology class because
we were dealing with the concept of nature versus nurture in relation to
personalities and character traits. If
my memory serves, at one time the universally accepted idea was that when we
come into this world we are blank slates.
Our minds are waiting to be written on.
Our personalities are just waiting to be formed. Perhaps in today’s vernacular we should refer
to this as we are born as new Ipads or Android tablets just waiting for apps to
be added.
But as knowledge of the
human brain and development grew, the idea of humans as originally blank slates
lost momentum. Having watched my own two
kids from birth to now, I can tell you they were born with distinct and unique
personalities. They were born with
character traits that remain with them to this day, and probably will for the
rest of their lives. I’m sure my parents
would say the same about my siblings and myself.
But we are also shaped
and formed by what happens to us. Our
experiences, good and bad, help to create who we are. I have been formed by what has
wounded me, and how I’ve learned and healed from those wounds. I’ve been formed by all the good that has
happened to me. And the character traits
I came into the world with, such as my impatience, those have formed me
too.
In other words, my
identity, who I am and how I see myself, has been intimately shaped and created
by the traits that I came into this world with and by the life I’ve lived, the people I’ve met and loved, the
experiences that I’ve had, and the faith journey that I’ve walked. All of us are unique combinations of nature
and nurture. I think that even applies,
and some might be shocked by my saying so, to Jesus.
Luke’s telling of Jesus'
baptism is not completely different from Mark and Matthew’s witnesses. Certainly there are common elements. But it’s not the same either. In Luke, the Holy Spirit descends like a dove
as in other versions, but the voice of God that speaks to Jesus while he is praying
is heard by him alone.
“You are my Son, the
Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
A parent speaking words
of love and tenderness to a child. “You
are my Son, the Beloved.”
One of the questions
that we often have about Jesus’ baptism is why did he have to be baptized in
the first place? Why was this
important? And it must be important,
because every gospel recounts some version of this event in Jesus’ life.
If we baptize as an
expression of salvation and forgiveness of sins, does this mean that Jesus was
sinful and needed baptism? For some
folks that’s really hard to get past.
Jesus could not have needed baptism for the same reasons we need
baptism.
Is it Jesus’ way of
initiating the ritual of believer’s baptism?
If so, what does that say for our tradition which baptizes infants? I realize that many of us in this
congregation, with the strong influence of other traditions, may remember our
own baptisms. Not being raised
Presbyterian, I certainly do. But my
children were baptized as babies. And I
agree with the theological justification for doing that. God’s grace comes to us whether we are aware
of it or not. It doesn’t require our
affirmation to be present in our lives.
Baptism also symbolizes
our dying and rising with Christ. It is about new life and resurrection. We die to the self and are raised into
Christ. In the early church new
believers were baptized on Easter, emphasizing the new life that they now live
into. Again, why would Jesus need to do
that?
Perhaps this is just a
case of Jesus setting an example for us and nothing else. It is something that his followers need to
do, so we need to do it too.
Yet what else does
baptism mean? When we are baptized we
are baptized into a community of faith.
In our tradition, we don’t endorse private baptisms. It’s not something that happens outside of
the faith community, outside of worship.
We are baptized into the body of Christ in the world. We are baptized into the family of faith – in
a particular setting and into the larger faith family. It’s not just the parents or the godparents
or the believer who makes promises at baptism.
It’s all of us. When we
participate in a baptism, we all promise to love and support and nurture the
one who is baptized. We all promise to
help this person grow in their life of faith.
We all promise to encourage this person in this new identity.
There’s that word
again. Identity. I think that perhaps this may be a
fundamental reason for Jesus’ baptism.
It was a moment of identity formation.
Earlier I said that I
believe Jesus was also a unique combination of nature and nurture. I know that sounds strange, but think about
it. We proclaim that Jesus is both divine
and human. I don’t believe that Jesus
was born in a state of tabula rasa. He was not just a blank slate to be written
on. Luke’s story of his birth makes it
very clear that he was born with divine purpose. He was God incarnate. But if we accept that Jesus, God with us, was
also human, doesn’t that suggest that he too learned and grew and was shaped by
the experiences of his life? He was both
by nature the incarnation and in nurture a human being. Luke is the only gospel that gives us any
stories about his childhood. But they
stop at age 12. So in those years he
must have been growing, emotionally and spiritually as well as physically. He must have been learning. He must have been experiencing a variety of
situations and people. It’s often speculated
that he would have had the opportunity to meet a variety of people, because he
would have had access to the traveling merchants and traders on the Silk
Route. Whatever the circumstances of
those years we don’t know about, Jesus must have been about the business of
becoming the man who came to the Jordan to be baptized by John. And in his baptism, he is shaped in his
identity.
I think that Jesus in
his baptism, in the descending of the dove and his hearing God’s affirmation of
him, experiences a moment of profound identity formation. Jesus is God’s Son, the Beloved. His identity as the Messiah is confirmed. And yes, I think Jesus needed that. Not because he might not have been the
Messiah otherwise, but because of what he must now do. After this comes testing in the wilderness,
and then a public ministry that will move from crowds wanting him to heal them
to crowds calling for his death. It will
be a ministry of love and compassion, healing and hope, as well as
confrontation and finally betrayal.
So Jesus needed that
baptism, not because it changed him, but because it confirmed even more
profoundly who he already was. It
further shaped his identity as the Son of God, as the Beloved.
Isn’t that what baptism
does for us? It shapes our identity and
sets us on a path of discipleship. It
isn’t magic. It doesn’t transform us
from one thing into something entirely different. It doesn’t initiate us into an exclusive club
or make us superior to others. It
reminds us that we are connected intimately to God and to one another. Baptism deeply confirms our identity as
children of God. The more we remember
this, the more we can see others and ourselves as God sees us. We are beloved. We are beloved. Let all God’s children say, “Amen.”
Thanks for this! I had to pay attention in morning services at my church (which was a good thing)...except that moment when I forgot I was supposed to give the offertory prayer!
ReplyDeleteIt's good to remember that we are beloved of God.
I felt a little guilty about you not paying attention in church, so I'm glad this didn't prove to be a distraction. How long before you remembered?
DeleteAnd thank you for your comments!
My friend had to nudge me and point at the bulletin while the world sat in silence. Only one person openly mocked me after the service. Sadly...it is the second time I have done that. And...neither time was I reading your sermon!
Delete