Prophets and Baptisms, Pharisees and Sadducees; our gospel
story for today is chock full of a dizzying array of terms and events. Indeed, the more you look at this text the
more confusing it seems to become. While
the story of John the Baptist has become so well read and so well loved by
Christians that we may no longer notice it, the reality is Matthew is
describing some genuinely strange things.
Why is this man John wandering the Judean wilderness, putting his life in
danger from both the elements and robbers?
Why is he baptizing people in the Jordan River? Religious immersion was hardly foreign for
the Jews, but usually they did that in baths.
Why drag everybody out into the desert for something everybody could do
at home? And then the Pharisees get
added to the mix. Why are the Pharisees heading
way out into the wilderness chasing after this man? And why would they think that being a child
of Abraham would exempt them from repentance?
It doesn’t make a lot of sense. I
mean, last time I checked the children of Abraham literally wrote the book on
their screw ups so if somebody was holding a repentance tent revival out in the
desert you would think they would be first in line. And then there’s the matter of Prophecy, we
are Christians seeing the fulfillment of Isaiah in this, and is some guy
shouting in the wilderness really that tremendous of a prediction? Indeed, Matthew has been well critiqued over
the years for his use of the Hebrew
Scriptures and the fulfillment of his people’s
prophecy, wrongfully so in my opinion.
But how do we make sense of it all? How do we make sense of all the strange and
wonderful things going on in our text today?
We can do what Christians normally do, what the Church as a whole has
gotten in the habit of doing. We can
gloss over the text, ignoring all the questions and it’s strangeness. We can just
talk about the need to repent because that’s the word that appears twice. It’s nice, it’s safe. It’s shallow, but I guess it’ll do. But the reality while we might emerge with a
nice, very forgettable lesson, it wouldn’t be all that helpful to other people
would it? Indeed, when those outside the
church look at what we do with our Scriptures, when they see us ignore the
questions and be content with a shallow gospel, it doesn’t paint a very pretty
picture of Christianity does it? It
reinforces the image that a Christian is no different than any other religious
person, someone who seeks to solve life’s anxieties by mere obedience to any
old book. When they see us unwilling to
ask good questions, unwilling to prod too deep for fear we might at last pierce
the illusion, well that sends a message.
It tells people that yes we believe, but only so far. Yes, we obey, but it is out convenience and
familiarity that we do so, not out of knowledge and faith. I have been with you for over a year now and
I am proud to say that I don’t think you have ever settled to be that kind of
Christian, and so I will not do you the injustice of preaching that kind of
sermon.
But how DO we make sense of it all? How do we honestly
wrestle with what is going on here? Why did Matthew put this account into his
story, and how might this message apply to us today? In an America where Christianity has become almost irrelevant to people’s lives, these are all questions the Church can no
longer afford to avoid.
While I would absolutely agree that repentance is indeed a
substantial piece of our gospel lesson, the reality is it’s not the only piece,
nor, I would argue is it the most important one. Repentance is of course essential to the
Christian Life, or indeed just moral living in general. None of us gets it right the first time
through, so repenting of one’s mistakes in this life is a given. However, there is a deeper theme in our gospel
lesson, one that is very easy to miss – not only because we are not first
century Jews but also because that theme is an attribute that doesn’t really
come naturally to most human beings.
Now to illustrate this theme, however, we have to switch
gears a bit. It’s going to be difficult
to see without a more modern day example.
Before graduating Seminary, young pastors-to-be have to find a place to
intern. The Church I had found for that
purpose was a very liberal UCC church in St. Louis Park. As a student of an Evangelical Seminary
raised in Lutheranism, I wouldn’t say I was exactly welcomed with open arms by
everybody there. Indeed, as I would find
out rather quickly Liberal Christianity could be just as cold and
self-righteous as any other; I think it took me two years to finally convince
everyone I was in fact not some sort of right wing spy and saboteur. After all that was said and done there,
however, I did learn a very valuable lesson.
I learned the problem is never the politics; people on every side or no
side of every philosophy, ism, or party can and do have valuable and respectful
dialogues and even friendships. No, the
problem is never the ugly politics, it’s the ugly people. And while I could go
on and on about my experiences there, there was one incident in particular that
I think is most relevant to our gospel lesson.
As the seminary intern I was placed in charge of a program
called Theology on Tap. It was
essentially a Bible Study at a bar, and to be honest it was actually a really wonderful
experience. Many people who go to drink
the night away don’t do so because they that believe God loves them. Indeed, many of the regulars there feel
abandoned, that God somehow hates them and wants nothing to do with them. Being able to bring the gospel into their
midst, the good news of God’s love and acceptance was life changing for a lot
of people, myself included. One
particular session, however, we managed to attract a student from United
Theological Seminary, an institution for very, very liberal Christians. And no, he wasn’t a regular there, he came
because of the Theology not the Tap.
Lots of people came
to these meeting: Conservatives, progressives, agnostics, atheists, even a
modern pagan or two. Everybody was
welcome there. And at this particular
meeting we had this soon to be ordained very Liberal young man from a very
Liberal educational institution and a conservative evangelical marine. And you know what they did? They talked.
They respectfully conversed, asking questions making points, and they
walked away loving each other. Not only
that, where God was in that moment was when I saw all the presuppositions of
that young pastor-in-training completely melt away. Everything that his professor’s taught him
about the opposite side he saw fell terribly short. He was ready for an unlistening monster,
stubborn and arrogant, but what he got was loving and kindly thought. I do believe God was in that moment for him
as he realized that talking about the other side in fact was no substitute for talking
to the other side. It was a baptism of
the spirit, what went in was afraid and confused, but what emerged was humble
and at peace. Humility, ladies and gentlemen,
that is the deepest theme that is woven into our gospel story.
St. Matthew, Jesus’ disciple, was of course a Palestinian
Jew, indeed a former tax collector according to the earliest traditions, and
his gospel is to other Palestinian Jews.
Now, as an American, I don’t need to explain to anyone here what 9/11
is, I won’t confuse anywhere here when I say the words, “Just do it” or “Git
‘er dun.” These things are very well
known in our culture and they are understood implicitly. The same is true for Matthew. Matthew doesn’t need to explain to his fellow
Jews why John the Baptist is out there, he doesn’t need to waste words
explaining why Pharisees would follow him out into the middle of nowhere, they
already know. They’ve lived it. You see, Baptism in the Jordan was a common
practice in first century Judea – for gentiles.
Judaism had garnered the interest of many Gentiles in the first century,
they were called God fearers or Theophilus, friends of God. Well, as a Gentile you could also take this a
step further and become a fully Jewish.
You could convert entirely to Judaism and be given all the rights and
responsibilities of a native born Israelite.
As part of that process you were Baptidzomai, immersed in the Jordan just like Naaman the
Syrian from the book of Kings. Just as
Naaman went in as a leper, Just as he went in full of uncleanness but emerged
on the banks of the river cleansed and believing in the power of the Jewish
God, so would this new gentile convert.
But John’s isn’t baptizing gentiles, is he?
John the Baptist is very controversial in the first
century. Not only is he deliberately
dressing like the prophet Elijah, not only is he wandering the desert and
eating locusts and wild honey just like Elijah, but he is offering repentance,
indeed offering atonement, reconciliation to God apart from Animal Sacrifice,
Apart from Temple, Apart from Jewish Scripture.
Do you see why a legalistic Pharisee would chase this guy out into the
middle of nowhere, now, why he’d say he didn’t need to be baptized because he
was a child of Abraham? Starting to make
Sense?
Now to be clear, I don’t think John’s ministry was about
being disobedient. There is nothing
written about him that says he taught to avoid the temple, not to sacrifice or
observe holidays; neither do we possess anything that says he taught
disobedience to Scripture. John’s
ministry was not about that. John’s
ministry was about radical humility, radical repentance and conviction of sin. John’s message was abundantly clear, that if you
as a Jew cannot come before your God publicly and shout that I am no better
than the unclean people I look down on, then all the sacrifices, all the
Temples and all Scripture verses you can muster are going to mean exactly
diddly squat. A jew going to the Jordan
to be baptized by John is no different than a Nazi undergoing a Barmitzvah or a
Klan Member being baptized in a black church.
It is a heart-wrenching admission of guilt and an act of brazen,
selfless humility.
Ladies and gentlemen, John the Baptist is not some idle
curiosity within the Christian faith. Of
all the factions and ministries that existed from within the Judaism of that
time, when God became Incarnate this is the one He backed. Jesus was Baptized into this ministry, and indeed,
without the message of John the Baptist Christianity would have been very, very different. John’s ministry is as
vibrant, relevant, and necessary as it was two thousand years ago. If we are not right with God here in our hearts,
that if we can’t walk with our God humbly, repenting of our pride
then no amount of sacrament or correct theology is going to save us. People come up and tell me, “Keven, I can’t
find God, He is missing from my life. I
can’t feel him.” Well, if God cannot be
found where you are comfortable, than the only answer is you’ll to go where you
are uncomfortable to find Him. If God
cannot be found in the city then the reality is He must be somewhere in the
wilderness. If you have not felt God, if
you aren’t experiencing God, the answer is not to stay where you are, to keep
comfortable and feel secure, but to find that voice calling in the desert and be
humble enough to follow it before it’s too late.
Christ is coming, ladies and gentlemen, both as the babe of
Bethlehem and as the Conquering Hero of Creation, and we have been called to
prepare the way of the Lord in our own lives, and to make straight the paths of crooked
hearts. Let us not be so prideful as to meet
him with our work unfinished. Amen.
