I have been away on a leave of absence, during which I found myself asking: Who am I? What is it I am supposed to be doing – with my life? within my work? Which are great questions to ask…when one is in their 20s. It’s significantly more disconcerting to (still) be asking those questions as I see 64 around the corner.
How is it I can still be asking those questions?? Well, for one, I have learned that “life is a series of phases”. I remember saying that — to my mother decades ago when she was trying to dissuade me from making a particular purchase, which she thought frivolous, by saying “You don’t need that…You’re just going through a phase!” And it is still true.
Phases. Like the moon. Like the seasons. Life is about letting go of one phase and moving into the next. That constant sense of change, and the grief that often comes with it, keeps most of us feeling we are on shifting ground. Do I have to change…AGAIN?
Yes.
Because as living beings, we need to change, or we stagnate and die. The change can be exhiliarating and it can be scary; those are not opposites. The change can make us apprehensive; do we know what the change will bring? How do we endure the fear that inevitably happens when we face a new thing?
We are not alone. Jesus had a similar experience.
In today’s story, Jesus goes to hear John the Baptiser preach, and in response to what he is hearing Jesus accepts baptism. And he has a vision. One that changes him and changes the course of his life.
In Judaism, one is baptised as a symbol of ending one life and starting another.
In Jewish tradition baptism (or trip to the mikveh) has two functions. First immersing in flowing water washes away the accumulated dreck of living. From a symbolic point of view the water washes away what has been. Secondly, as one comes out of the water, one is clean and fresh, a symbol of being birthed into a new life. (a) This ritual of baptism is a public way of saying “what’s past is past, I want to live a new way”. We turn away from what was – we re-pent – and turn towards something new, unencumbered by guilt or dashed dreams. We experience “forgiveness”, a letting go. Once fresh and new, we can be filled with possibilities.
So, if Jesus has come to John to be baptised, I wonder he felt he would need to have washed away? Was he tired moving, as an itinerent worker? Was he bereaved of a family member and needed a new direction? Was he antsy, or frustrated, wondering when G*d was going to break into history and fix the oppression of the Jewish people at the hands of the Roman occupation? We don’t know. But clearly he was looking to leave something behind and to start something new.
As he was under the water, does he have an inkling about what life he is going to be birthed into? Does he have a sense of the possibilities of who he will become?
Mark’s good news about Jesus doesn’t begin with to whom he was born, where or how . The good news Mark shares about Jesus as Christ begins with Jesus’ baptism by John. For Mark’s community, when Jesus begins to become who he is when he comes up out of the water, as he is being re-birthed (or reborn). He has a vision: he sees the Spirit of God coming towards him, as if making a nest on his head, and hears a voice: you are my child, whom I love; with you I am well pleased”.
That’s a key piece to understanding who Jesus is; but what does it mean to be called “child of God”? What does it mean for God to say “with you I am well-pleased”?
Jesus hasn’t done anything yet; he won’t start his public ministry until John gets imprisoned by the local governor. But as Jesus leaves behind what was, as he turns towards the ‘kingdom of heaven’ that John is preaching, he comes to realize that his God, the god of his hopes for a new world dawning, is well pleased with him. Not for doing anything; only for being himself.
The rest of Jesus’ ministry, how he lives, what he teaches and says and does, are all rooted in this affirmation: You are my child, whom I love; with you I am well pleased. He has no idea what that vision means, so he flees into the desert. He has no idea what new life is he bound for, so he goes to a place with few distractions, a place where nothing is tame, on a quest to understand the vision. What does it mean to be called “child of God”? What does it mean that God is well-pleased with me?
This is not an idle question. We are invited into the same journey. What might that mean to you if you were completely rooted in that same experience: the Divine, the Source of all Love, saying to you: You are my child. Whom I love. With you I am well pleased. How might it affect how you see yourself? How might it change what you see in the world around you, and how you respond to that?
David Sparks, a well-known UC minister, prayer-writer and bible commentator, suggest that this story invites us to ask us “what stands between you and doing the will of God?”
That feels like a big leap to me – that G*d would be expecting me to be able to do anything — so I ask that question differently: What stands between me and my abilility to accept this grace that I am beloved, and with me God is well pleased?
Maybe you ask the same question. What stands between me and my abilility to accept this grace that I am beloved, and with me God is well pleased?
Is that not good news?
Mark’s gospel, good news about Jesus as Christ, invites us to believe and trust, that we can ask ourselves “what name does God use to call to my heart?” To allow a life-changing, transformative, moment to happen to us as we hear our name being called.
The rest of Jesus’ ministry is firmly rooted in this affirmation, that he is God’s beloved child and God is well-pleased with his life. Jesus’ sense of connection with the divine is deep.
How might you live if you had a similar deep sense of connection with the Divine? This is also called having a deep spirituality.
What if we, both as individuals and collectively as this United Church, could cultivate that deep spirituality? How might we live differently if we were to allow ourselves to let all the fear and uncertainty we carry be washed away? Fear of not having enough, not being enough, fear that we are insignificant, fear of being called “Holy Rollers”, fear of letting God ‘take the reins’. Imagine that being washed away….
And as we, fresh and clean, come out of that water, emerging into a new life. Imagine who we could be, and what we could do, if rooted in that deep spirituality, in that relationship with the Holy Wholly Beyond Us , we could accept that the Divine is well-pleased with us?
That is what we, as a denomination, are being ask to do in this triennium to 2025…to be a people of deep spirituality, to walk with faith (to trust) that we are the very Offspring of Eternal Holiness and that our God of transformative hope is well pleased with us…even as we travel through the phases of our life.
Image credit: Jesus’ Baptism is by Daniel Bonnell, and is used under license from bonnellart.com
NOte: (a) In modern Judaism, of all variations, going to the mikveh is the penultimate step in the conversion process. One leaves behind whatever religion has carried us to this point and, emerging from the waters of mikveh, is rebirthed a Jew. It is also a practice used by observant Jewish men after sex to wash away “the little death” and begin life anew, and by observant Jewish women after their menses is complete to mark emerging into a new cycle of the potential of bearing new life.