Paper: Brought Safely Through Water: Baptism and the Covenant Story of Israel
Overview: This paper develops a theology of baptism, arguing that the New Testament consistently ties baptism back to our union with Christ and our participation in the covenant story of forgiveness and restoration and blessing that he has fulfilled. It suggests that our teaching about and practice of baptism should emphasize the theological narrative of union with Christ and participation in the reconstituted people of God that is symbolized by this sacred act.
Thesis: Theologically, baptism functions for the church as a fundamental sign of her participation in the covenant story of Israel as it is taken up by and ultimately fulfilled by God’s act in, through and as Jesus the Messiah.
Seminary Flotsam (IV): Brought Safely Through Water
On Pirate Tatoos and Christian Maturity, a baptism homily
Of course one of the things that always happens, or a least, it should happen when we witness a baptism, is that it reminds us of our own baptism. Myself, I was 12 years old when I was baptised. And, it’s interesting, even though that was 29 years ago now, I still have a number of very vivid memories that stand out in my mind from that day.
I remember, for instance, that that a kindly old guy in our church wanted to give me a gift—it was a little Bible and some candy—to say congratulations after the service. And that would have been nice, but he accidentally gave it to my brother instead of me.
There were three Harris boys, and we all sort of looked the same to him. He came right up to us, while we were all standing together, and he gave Shane the gift, and said some really kind things about how proud he was of him for taking this step of obedience and so on, and gave him a big hand shake. And neither Shane nor myself had the guts to tell him, that, actually, it was me, who got baptized.
As I recall, Shane split the gift with me later on. I got the Bible and he got the candy. Well—I’m not sure if that’s how that part went, for sure.
But I am sure of this memory: because my most distinct memory of the day was that, earlier on, at school that day, someone had drawn a skull-and-cross-bones pirate tattoo on my shoulder. In permanent ink. We were just goofing off at school and he thought it would be a funny gag. And I didn’t think about it afterwards—when I was trying vainly to scrub said pirate tattoo off—that I would have to stand up in front of the whole church in a tee-shirt. And everyone would see my pirate tattoo. And like—what if they think I’m actually a pirate or something. Or what if the pastor decides to call the whole thing off because—well—I never—this kid thinks he can be baptized with that drawn on his arm?
Seriously: that was my big anxiety of the day. What if someone sees my phoney pirate tattoo and thinks maybe I’m not baptizable, because of it.
Now: I’ve told this story before, I realize. It’s actually one of my best baptism stories, to be honest. And I’m telling it again today, because, well, because I think it actually illustrates one of the points that the author of the Book of Hebrews is trying to make here today—the point is: listen: we all of us, always, have to mature into our baptism.
That’s the point I want to make today, anyway: we all of us, always have to mature into our baptism.
You see: as a twelve year old kid, someone might have looked at my twelve year old concerns that day—my worries over a childish skull and cross bones tattoo, and sort of rolled their eyes, you know, given the profound, spiritual thing that was happening that day, as I stood in the water and followed Jesus in his own baptism—united with him, is how the Bible says it—buried with him in baptism and raised to the new life of a Christian. I mean, really: given the weight, and the depth and the significance of that event, I was worried about a little ink on my arm, of all things?
But here’s the thing: I mean: sure, at 12 I didn’t get the full significance of what was happening in that moment, but really at 41, now, I’m not sure I get it yet, either, the full significance of what a baptism is. I am still learning what it means to be united with Christ by faith, and how baptism not only symbolizes my union with him, but also, in some mysterious way, it also participates in it. And I’m still discovering aspects to what exactly it was that God was doing in me and through me and to me that day when his Spirit prompted something in my spirit and said, do this thing. Receive this sign. Repent and be baptized.
Do you follow? I mean: I have matured a lot since my 12-year-old pirate days, but even so, I am still maturing into the meaning of my baptism. We all of us, always, need to.
I’m saying that partly because, whether or not it was true for me, it was certainly true for the followers of Jesus that the writer of the Book of Hebrews is writing to here. How does he say it: “Let us leave aside the basic, elementary teachings about Christ, and go on to maturity, not laying again the foundation of repentance ... and of faith in God ... and instructions about baptisms and the laying on of hands.”
Now: this is a complicated passage, and this is a baptism devotional, not a full on sermon, so I’m not going to have time to unpack the whole thing here, but for our purposes today, let me just say this.
Hebrews was written to a bunch of Jewish Christians in the early church who were being persecuted for their faith. The non-Christian Jews in their day, in particular, were coming after them because they had abandoned their Jewish traditions and were claiming Jesus as their Messiah.
And things were hard for these Christians, back then. Really hard. And many of them were thinking of abandoning Christianity and going back to their old religion. Some of them actually had abandoned Christianity.
And the author of this Book is just trying to say: listen, if you want to stand firm, and hang on to your faith when the going gets tough ... if you want to make it through this or that trial... well ... the way to do that is to mature into the meaning of the life you embraced when you were baptised.
Leave aside the basic elementary teachings about Christ, not laying again the foundation ... that’s his way of saying, look: don’t stay there, stuck with the Sunday-School pat answers and the Veggie Tales music videos or what have you—move on from those elementary teachings and into maturity. Mature into the meaning of (what does he say?) the meaning of your repentance, mature into the meaning of your faith in God.
Mature into the meaning of your baptism.
And let’s remember: He’s not talking to 12 year-old pirates about to be baptised there. He’s talking to grown up Christians who have been baptised. Maybe years and years ago. And he’s telling them: listen: you need to move on from the basics of the faith and mature into the meaning of your baptism.
If it feels like I’m flogging this horse to death today, it’s only because, well: it’s partly because sometimes I get asked, especially by parents, whether or not someone—especially a child, let’s say—whether or not they are “ready” for baptism. And usually when I’m asked this the idea is: does the candidate fully grasp the meaning of what’s happening? Do they “get it”? Are they “ready” in that sense?
And I guess, if I’m reading Hebrews right here today, I guess the answer to that question is: well: none of us ever fully grasp the meaning of baptism, no matter how much we might think we know when it happens to us. You weren’t ready, really for your baptism when it happened, and all of us, actually, have to mature into the meaning of this symbol.
But the other reason I’m flogging the horse, if it feels like I’m flogging a horse, is because, well, not to put too fine a point on it, but: I think it’s very easy for Christians not to mature into the meaning of their baptism.
I think sometimes we see baptism as a point of arrival rather than a point of departure, if you follow me ... the end point of a journey rather than the starting point of a journey. There is this tendency among Christians that I’ve noticed, where we sort of look at baptism as this thing that’s either separate from our growing in Jesus, or else it’s something that finishes off our growing in Jesus. Like, you know, after I’ve been baptized, as a Christian, then I’ve arrived.
And I guess, the thing is: that’s not how the writers of the New Testament saw it. They saw it as the start of journey, not the completion of the journey. It was something you matured into, spiritually speaking, not something that showed how spiritually mature you were.
You with me? Well, if not, or maybe as a way of illustrating this, let me put it like this: how many of you were baptised as part of your journey with Jesus. If you were ever baptised, maybe stand up for a moment.
And stay standing, and let me—well—first let me say that it was sort of a trick question—because none of you were baptised. At least, that’s not the best way to say it: because to say I was baptised is to put the emphasis on a past event, isn’t it? Something that happened in the past but doesn’t, necessarily impact the present in any meaningful way.
You say: what do you mean Pastor Dale?
And I’d say: well: what if, instead of saying I was baptised. You said: I am baptised? My baptism is not something that happened at some point in past and has no impact on my day to day present—but it is, actually, a present reality?
What would change for you, if you said that instead? I am baptised?
And when spiritual trials come along that threaten to derail your faith—because spiritual trials will come along, and they will threaten to derail your faith—what if you said: I am baptised—united Christ in his death on the cross?
And when old habits were hard to break and old ways of thinking were hard to unlearn—because some habits will be hard to break and some thought patterns will be hard to learn—what if you said: I am baptised—raised with him to live a new life?
And when God calls you to try new things for him and they’re risky and they’re uncertain and they take sacrifice—because some of the things he asks you to do will be risky and the will take sacrifice—what if you said: I am baptised—dead to the old and alive to the new, clothed with Christ and a child of God through faith in him.
Well: I don't know if those trials or challenges or sacrifices or risks will be easier, necessarily, but I do know this: if you allowed the meaning of your baptism to impact your present reality, today-- whatever else happened as you did, I think you'd be doing what the author of Hebrews is asking us to do: you'd be maturing into the meaning of this beautiful, mysterious symbol.
And God permitting, let's all do just that. Amen.
"The Baptism with which I am Baptized"
The other day I came across this stunning example of an ancient baptistry from the Negev (Early Byzantine). Amazing. I've preached four baptism sermons (I am, remember, a realatively green preacher), but this one photograph says a thousand words more than all of them combined, I think.
With what solemnity would we read Romans 6:4-6 ("Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin.") if on the day of our baptism the baptistry looked like this?
It also helps me understand what Jesus must have meant in Mark 10:39, when he asked James and John if they could be baptised with the baptism with which he was to be baptised (meaning the pending agony of the cross). When they claimed they were up to the challenge, he replied: "You will be baptised with the baptism I am baptised with" (meaning, presumably, our union with Christ through baptism and the cross-shaped life we are called to live as his baptized followers).
On the Temptation of Christ (V)
Okay: I know I said I was done with Matthew 4:1-11 last time, but I also remembered this excerpt from a paper I wrote a while ago that discusses Jesus' temptation in terms of his role as the one who fulfills Israel's covenant story. I post it here with full apologies for its technical density, in hopes that it might shed inspire further meditation on this multi-layered text.
Though each of the Evangelists deals in their own way with Jesus’ identity as the “true Israel” in whom God fulfills the covenant, a close reading of Matthew’s account of Jesus’ baptism makes it especially clear. We note first the significant contribution Matthew makes to the baptism tradition by describing Jesus’ insistence that John must baptize him in order “to fulfill” (πληρῶσαι) all righteousness (Matt 3:15). Of course Matthew uses the theme of “fulfillment” elsewhere to indicate the fulfillment of Israel’s covenant history in Jesus’ own story: the flight to Egypt “fulfills” Hosea’s vision of the Exodus wherein Israel is the beloved and called out son of Yahweh (Matt 2:15 ἵνα πληρωθῇ; cf. Hos 11:1); the massacre of the innocents “fulfills” Jeremiah’s vision of Rachel, the archetypal mother of Israel, weeping over her exiled children and receiving the promise that they will return from the land of the enemy (Matt 2:17 τότε ἐπληρώθη, cf. Jer 31:15-16), and so on (cf. also 2:23, 4:14, 8:17, 21:4, etc.).
In the theophanic revelation of Jesus as the Son of God after his baptism (Matt 3:16-17) we see specifically how “all righteousness,” and with it Israel’s vocation as God’s covenant people, is indeed being fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ. Though it is difficult to align Matthew 3:16-17 with a precise OT passage, it is likely that texts like Psalm 2:7 (cf. Act 13:33, Heb 1:5) and especially—given the Isaianic context of John’s ministry—Isaiah 42:1 form the OT context for God’s declaration that Jesus is his “beloved Son”. And when we turn to Isaiah 42:1 with Jesus’ baptism in mind, we see Yahweh choosing his servant, declaring his delight in him, and putting his Spirit upon him, in a passage that finds striking parallels to the theophany of Matt 3:16-17. Notably, Matthew will specifically apply Isaiah 42:1 to Jesus later as a sign of his Messianic identity (12:17-18, no par.), but will render בְּחִירִי (“my elect/chosen one”) as ὁ αγαπητός μου (“my beloved”). This translation is the more intriguing when we consider that the LXX translatesבְּחִירִי in 42:1 with ὁ ἐκλεκτός μου (“my elect”), which suggests that Matthew is working with an independent tradition, one that understands the “chosen one” of Isaiah 42:1 and the “beloved Son” revealed at Jesus’ baptism to be one and the same. Though a full discussion of the Christological issues at play here is beyond the scope of this study, we must also pause to consider how the “servant” who is introduced in Isaiah 42:1 is envisioned throughout Second Isaiah as a personification of the nation of Israel (cf. Isa 44:21, 45:4, 49:3, etc.). That Isaiah 42:1 was indeed understood in Jesus’ day as a picture of Israel personified is reinforced when we consider how the LXX translates this reference to עַבְדִּי (“my servant”) as Ιακωβ ὁ παῖς μου (“Jacob my servant/ child”) and Ισραηλ ὁ ἑκλεκτός μου (“Israel my chosen one”).
All of this suggests that when Jesus emerges from the Jordan river, still dripping with that baptism administered by the eschatological “second Elijah” as a sign of the reconstitution of Israel, and the Holy Spirit descends on him, revealing him as the true Son of God in whom the Father delights, his Sonship involves a calling as the “true Israel” who will take up into himself the story and fulfill the vocation of God’s covenant people. Thus, just as the nation of Israel—the son whom Yahweh called out of Egypt (Hos 11:1)—emerged from the waters of the Red Sea as a “new-created people” (cf. Ex 15:17 עַם־זוּ קָנִיתָ), only to be led by the Spirit of God through forty years of testing in the desert, so Jesus emerges from the waters of the Jordan, revealed as the true Son of God, only to be led by the Spirit to be tested in the desert for forty days (Matt 4:1). As suggested by the references to Deuteronomy which Jesus uses to resist the Devil, Jesus’ testing in the wilderness is intricately related to his role in fulfilling the story of Israel: though Israel grumbled for bread in the desert (Deut 8:2-3), Jesus will be satisfied with every word that comes of the mouth of God (Matt 4:4); though the people tested God’s faithfulness at the waters of Massah (Deut 6:16), Jesus will not put the Lord his God to the test (Matt 4:6); and though the people fell into idolatry (Deut 6:12-13), Jesus will bow and worship the Lord alone (Matt 4:10).
Some Words on Baptism
We had a baptism service this Sunday (my second one as a pastor). Fitting perhaps to have a baptism service on the Sunday after Easter, inasmuch as baptism represents our union with Christ in his death and resurrection. Here's the sermon from this Sunday, for anyone interested. Also for anyone interested, here're some thoughts about baptism that I read at the start of the baptism service:
As we prepare our hearts to witness the baptism of these believers, I’d like to invite you to reflect on your own baptism, and what it meant for you to receive this sign of your union with Christ.
See: our God is the covenanting God.
He promised Noah never to flood the earth again—and gave the promise-sign of the rainbow. He promised Abraham to make his people into a blessing for the whole earth—and gave the promise-sign of circumcision. He promised Moses to deliver his people—and gave the promise-sign of Passover.
But in Jesus he promised to fulfill all these promises, and more.
And he gave us the promise-sign of baptism.
Because water baptism is a sign that declares to the world that we belong to this Jesus, and that through our faith in this Jesus, we know are included in all God’s promises to save, and renew and deliver.
Baptized followers of Jesus: that’s what you received when you received the sign of water baptism.
You were buried in waters and raised up again, to show that through faith in Jesus, you are united with Him in his death and resurrection.
You were soaked in water to show that your heart is drenched with his Holy Spirit, who cleanses you from sin and pours new life over you.
You stepped obediently into the waters of baptism to show that by faith in Jesus, you want to follow him in full obedience all your life.
Death of the Old Life. Birth of the New. Hope for eternity. Cleansing from sin. Filling with the Spirit. Belonging. A path now for the journey.
This is what we have in Jesus. And our baptism reminds us of all these things.
I’m going to invite all those who have received the sign of water baptism to stand now with these candidates. Let’s take a moment together to pause and remember the day of our own baptism, and be thankful.
On Baptism and Philadelphia
Among the candidates to be baptized last Sunday were my two oldest children. It was a great privilege to be part of this with them, but there's something I've been thinking about ever since. While I was putting together my notes to introduce the baptism candidates, I wrote out this sentence: "It's a real honour for me to stand with my daughter and baptize her as my sister in the Lord."
And I stopped dead at the keyboard, staring (through an accumulating mist) at those words on the screen: I'm baptizing my daughter and son, as my brother and sister in Jesus.
Often when we use the brother/sister terminology in Church it becomes whimsical, farcical, satirical or just plain empty. So I get why it's fallen out of common usage. But, remembering their baptism today, I'm thinking of Bonhoeffer. He stretched the concept of the Mediation of Christ to its inevitable conclusion, holding that: "within the Christian community there is never, in any way whatsoever, an 'immediate' relationship to one another ... but ... Christ [always] stands between me and another."
And I wonder: Could it really be? Could it be that since Jesus, the God-Man, mediates all human relationships, then before they are my children, my son and daughter are first and foremost my siblings in Christ? And could it be that any claim I might make on them is always secondary to and limited by and transcended by and mediated by the claims of Christ on us, who always stands between us?
And asking, I know the answer. An answer that has the potential to break open and heal and transform all my relationships.
Before she is my mother, she is my sister in Christ.
Before he is my father, he is my brother in Christ.
Before she is my wife, she is my sister in Christ.
There is no relationship I have that Christ hasn't first laid claim to, in a way that both rebukes and purifies any talk about me actually "having" a relationship with another human being who I might call "mine." And to look at them-- mother, father, son, daughter, brother, student, friend, neighbour, wife-- I must always look through the Christ who stands between us. To speak to them--mother, father, son, daughter, brother, student, friend, neighbour, wife--I must always speak through Christ.
To really see them, I must first see the Mediating Christ who names them brother and sister.
And what would community look like if we could do that?
Preparing the Way for the Lord
This Sunday was the second week of Advent; an exciting Sunday in our church, because we had a baptism service to go with it. Especially exciting for me, inasmuch as it was my first baptism service. I've led my share of worship jingles over the years, but I've never felt so like a worship leader as I did Sunday, when I stood in the water with Christ-followers as they received the sign of God's grace and salvation that is water baptism.
Because it was the Second week of Advent, I preached Luke 1:67-81: Zechariah's song at the birth of John. John the Baptist doesn't get a lot of air time in church; I'm not sure why, but the negligence is maybe a shame. By his own admission, John the Baptist's entire reason for being was to point the world inexorably to the Coming Christ. Everything about him was a one-way arrow directing us down the made-straight path to Jesus. (In the best illustrations of John, what stands out most is his long, extended finger pointing the World adamantly to the Lamb of God who takes away Its sin.)
But as I prepared the material for Sunday, at one point it hit me: as with John the Baptist, so too with the sign of Christian Baptism. It should point us inexorably to Jesus. Sometimes I wonder if the language we normally use to describe baptism-- personal testimony, step of obedience, personal declaration of personal faith-- doesn't point us more to the candidate than to the Christ they are declaring. I get the words we use, and believe there really is something beautifully personal about being baptized that should be celebrated; but I also believe that baptism itself should always serve as a long, extended finger pointing the World adamantly to its Savior.
The sermon recording was more than a bit fuzzy this Sunday (technical difficulties), but I thought I'd post it here for anyone interested.
Clean Hands, Dirty Jordan
Apparently by the time the Jordan River reaches the Dead Sea these days--what with the nation of Israel diverting 60% of her flow, and the nation of Jordan allowing septic tanks to seep crap into her water basin, and the nation of Syria maintaining some 40 dams on her major tributary--by then there's little left but a putrid trickle of raw sewage.
Miles up stream, spiritual tourists still come to be baptized gloriously on the same banks where Jesus himself once fulfilled all righteousness; down stream, here, today, you couldn't enter the water without serious health risks.
Not that anyone would want to.
The stench, they say, is nauseating.
I get that this crisis is shrouded with all sorts of political and social issues that defy a quick fix. Like a serious water shortage in the nation of Jordan. Like decades of political strife that have prevented these nations from cooperating on a solution. Like climate change, and economics, and a rapidly collapsing water table across the Middle East.
I get all that. And this morning, to be honest, I had a warmer, longer, more luxurious shower than I needed to. So who am I to blog?
But still, seeing the Jordan river pillaged and polluted like this should pierce us to the heart. Because some two millennia ago, the people of Judea came out to this river when they heard John's voice crying in the wilderness: "The promises of Isaiah 40 are now being fulfilled!" This is where they were drenched with the same water that Israel miraculously crossed when the nation first entered the land under Joshua. Here they enacted the burning cry of their hearts: "We want to be made new as the people of God."
And this is the river where we caught our first glimpse of the one in whom and through whom God would fulfill all the Messianic promises of Isaiah 40. Here we first saw the Beloved Son on whom the Spirit rests, who would provide comfort for the harried exiles, renewal of the covenant people, straight paths for the Creator's reign over his creation.
But if we read Isaiah to the end, we see that when the Messiah reigns in righteousness over his people, it will mean restoration and healing for the hurting creation. The desert will burst into fecund, verdant, joyous life. Isaiah 41-- the same Isaiah 41 that Jesus' baptism was somehow meant to fulfill--Isaiah 41 says it like this: "I will make the rivers flow on barren heights... I will turn the desert into pools of water."
Somewhere, I think, Christians forgot that when we saw Jesus emerge dripping from the Jordan, we were witnessing good news not just for us, but for the whole of the broken creation.
And we need to remember. Because the tragedy of this dying river is being played out all over the planet right now, as our greed, waste, materialism and idolatries continue to pillage the rivers and lakes and wetlands of our world. (After it's quenched Las Vegas' decadent water fountains and California's thirsty vegetable gardens, the Colorado River doesn't even make it to the Gulf of California anymore.)
May the stench of the dirty Jordan teach us to long once again for that promised day when God will restore all things under the reign of his Christ; but may it also convict us that our life together as the baptized people of the Creator can and should translate into healing shalom for his creation today, even as we hope for his future Coming.