In a former congregation of mine, a Sunday school teacher told me of an incident that happened there some years ago. Two of the young girls in her class — both about nine years old — came to her and said they wanted to be baptized. She was understandably pleased at their desire and told them to go home and talk to their parents about it, then appropriate arrangements could be made. A week later, the girls came back with the sad news that the parents thought they should wait until they were older and could understand more of what they were doing. They were disappointed. Sometime later, the teacher talked with the girls about baptism again, and shared with them how she knew they were looking forward to it, someday. But the girls said they had already taken care of it — the two of them had gone down to Buffaloe Creek and baptized each other.
Sounds very much like an old episode of All in the Family. Archie Bunker thought his new grandson ought to be baptized and he told his daughter and son-in-law so. Gloria and Meathead said, "No," because they don't believe in it. So Archie surreptitiously took his grandson down to the church, met with the minister, and said he wanted the boy "done." The minister tried to explain that baptism is not something just "done," but rather a rite of initiation into the church, and appropriate only when the parents wanted to make that commitment. The program ended with Archie alone in the darkened church sanctuary except for the infant grandson he was holding carefully. He reached into the waters of the baptismal font, brought his hand back to Joey's head and reverently said, "I baptize thee...."
Yes, the ecclesiastical purists will heartily object to both of those scenes, but I wonder. I wonder. True, the theological niceties were lacking, but there was an affirmation of faith there, an unnamed understanding of something powerful at work that is more to be experienced than explained.
Do you remember the movie, The Apostle? Robert Duvall, in a masterful performance, played a pentecostal preacher from Texas named Eulis "Sonny" Dewey. He is living what he thinks is a happy life with his beautiful wife, Jessie (played by Farrah Fawcett) when suddenly his world crumbles — Jessie is having an affair with the young youth minister, Horace. Sonny gets enraged and hits Horace with a baseball bat, putting him into a coma. Sonny leaves town quickly. He heads to Louisiana and begins a new life. What would be in store for him? In his own unique way, Sonny wants to start things right. He makes his way into a river, stands waist-deep in the water, lifts his eyes and hands to heaven and prays,
With great humility, I ask permission to be accepted as an apostle of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ of Nazareth, and with your gracious permission I wish to be baptized as an apostle of our Lord. Therefore, without witnesses, I baptize myself in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ... and in the name of Jesus.[1]
That brings us back to the scene at the River Jordan. Not just a solitary figure this time, but a throng of people from all walks of life are there. They have made a mini-pilgrimage into the countryside. They have come to see an itinerant preacher who is more than strange — a coarse camel's hair tunic with a leather belt around his waist, the uniform of a prophet since the days of Elijah. It was longing and anticipation that brought this mass of people out — there was a sense that something was missing in their walk with God, so they were ready to listen to a new voice.
This is a powerful voice: "You pack of snakes! Who warned you to run from the anger of God that is coming on you? Clean up your act! And do not presume to rely on that fact that you are Israelites — God's chosen people — to save you. Get right and do right." The crowds asked what to do. He responded, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." Tax collectors were told, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." Soldiers were instructed, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages" (Luke 3:7-14). It was a message that affirmed what they already knew: If they would be right with God, they had to be right with, not only God, but God's children as well.
Time to make a commitment. As a sign of their resolve to repent and make a change, they came down into the river, allowed John to "bury" their old ways under the water in baptism, then raise them again to a better life — neat ceremony — wonderful symbolism — Sonny Dewey understood.
And in the hands of a dynamic personality, too ... so forceful and impressive that some were led to think that John was the promised Messiah finally come. He debunked that notion out of hand: "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."
Then one day it happened ... Jesus came with his request for baptism. There was John's initial reluctance, then acquiescence. Finally, the dramatic climax. As our lesson has it, "And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart ..." not just "opened," the Greek schizomai means "split," "ripped," "sundered" ... and the Spirit descended on him like a dove. The voice sounded from heaven, "You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased" (Mark 1:11). What an image! It is as if God the Father is confined to heaven at this fantastic moment and in euphoric frustration rips and tears the very fabric of the universe to lay claim upon Jesus, the Son. It is a cosmic "Yes," arms raised high and feet dancing. It is love spilling out, the cup overflowing. Not celebrating the conclusion of a work-well-done, but before anything was done, and now about to embark on his ministry.
This changed everything! Jesus' baptism ushered in a new baptism. Christian baptism became not just a washing away of sin, as John's baptism was, but the baptism that brings the power of the Holy Spirit and a special relationship with God.[2] Why? For no reason other than God chooses to do it.
Part of the message of Jesus' baptism and our own is that we are loved. Most folks understand that, and that is why they get all warm and fuzzy when it comes to presenting their little ones for the sacrament. But there is more: We have work to do. Remember, this happened at the start of Jesus' work. This was his commissioning service. Now, almost twenty centuries later, when someone is baptized in the church, whether infants or adults, it is no different. We still have work. We are receiving our commission.
If that scares you a bit, there is one more piece of good news I have for you about your baptism. Remember that picture at the Jordan — there is the crowd, John, Jesus, and the dove. The Holy Spirit. Do not forget the dove. Clearly, Mark wants us to understand that from this moment on, Jesus and his ministry are empowered by the living presence of the Holy Spirit.
Yes, there is something powerful in baptism. This is why Sonny Dewey could baptize himself, come out of the water with a new name — the Apostle E. F., he called himself — and begin to preach again — first on a local radio station, then on the streets, and finally in a renovated ramshackle church that he founded called "The One Way Road to Heaven Holiness Temple." And preach he did — he called himself, "a genuine, Holy Ghost, Jesus-filled preachin' machine." Baptism equals power!
There is no question there are magnitudes of things to get us down. The message of Jesus' baptism, and yours and mine as well, is we have the power. We have the power to both be different and make a difference ... in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit! Remember with a sense of holy awe. Remember ... power!
1. The Apostle, ©1997 Butchers Run Films. Produced, written, and directed by Robert Duvall.
2. Brian Stoffregen, via Ecunet, "Gospel Notes for Next Sunday," #2764, 1/5/97. http>//www.ecunet.org/topic/GOSPEL_NOTES_FOR_THE_NEXT_SUNDAY.