Gospel: Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
On the surface today’s Gospel reading is a simple, short passage: three verses showing us John as he delivers one more proclamation of the coming of the Messiah, and two summarizing the brief but beautifully powerful baptism of Jesus.
But there’s something else important about the image we have here. It’s the image of the crowd of people, a gathering perhaps made up of believers and seekers and the merely curious, lined up to hear and see what’s going on … and perhaps even be baptized in the process. It’s the thought of this line of people that has a particular hold on me … the image of standing with others, waiting for something.
Think about how much of our lives we spend in line. We wait with carts of groceries in the supermarket checkout. We wait for gas pumps to free up so we can fill our tanks. Depending on how hungry we are, we patiently wait our turn to order food at the drive-through window. We endure lines for movie tickets and entrance into concert halls or sporting events. On typical Sundays, we join the line moving toward the altar to share in the Eucharistic meal.
Regardless of the place or the length of the line, however, we can usually anticipate (or at least hope for) what comes at the end. There’s something we fully expect to be the result of our time and effort: groceries; gas in the tank; a chance to cheer on the home team or hear a concert. And yes, most especially, the body and blood of Christ.
For those standing in that very particular line on that day more than 2,000 years ago, however, there was no certainty … no firm expectation … about what they were getting. In looking at the way this Gospel is written, we don’t even know who baptized Jesus. If you look at one of the in-between verses in this passage excluded by the lectionary writers, verse 20, Herod has already put John in prison.
I can’t help but imagine that some of the folks in that line had second and maybe even third thoughts about what they were doing there. Put yourselves in their position. How hard would it be for you to be walking along and then get into a line, not knowing where it led? How many of you would even take that sort of gamble? Despite all the unknowns about this, however, one thing is certain: this line was a line to community. Listen again to this fragment of verse 21: “Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus had also been baptized…” Christ’s baptism was not carried out in isolation. This man from Nazareth joined with others for this moment, for the unknown of what was next.
This man whose life would change the world, who received the blessing of the Holy Spirit and heard the voice of God proclaiming love for his Son, lined up with everyone else. He stood with the rich and the poor, the mighty and the oppressed, the laborers and the unemployed. He didn’t fight to get to the front. He was only baptized after everyone else had received their blessing.
He went last so that others could go first.
But on the flip side of this image of a line to community, of sacrificing a spot for others, I’m bothered. I think about the tragic ways lines have been used throughout human history to separate: lines of classification; lines of segregation; lines of division. Lines where one person or group has been shoved aside for the benefit of another. Lines in which at the end some received something and others went with nothing. Lines that led to survival, and lines that led to death. Even today, despite all humanity has overcome in its history, lines still exist … divisions between siblings in the family of God, despite every one of them being a child of the creator living together on what the Book of Common Prayer eloquently terms in Eucharistic Prayer C “this fragile earth, our island home.”
How has the world arrived at this time of widening gulfs and deepening chasms? What has caused many to move away from a single line of community toward one that splits like a fork in the road? How do we get back to the single line on that baptism day 2,000 years ago, siblings lined up together with a common objective?
I can’t possibly answer that question for everyone. But I can offer this: we look to the Gospel. We look to the example of Jesus. People ask, “What would Jesus do?” … bracelets with WWJD emblazoned on them. I think that’s wrong. The bracelets should say WDJD … “What did Jesus do?”… because Jesus has already done it and did it repeatedly throughout his life.
He prayed. He listened for the voice of God. He awaited the coming of the Spirit. He invited others into the line. This scene in Luke was about him, yes; it’s the moment marking the beginning of his ministry. But more than that, it’s about everyone there with him … and it’s about all of us.
It’s about our own covenant, a pledge that we renew at every service of baptism. It’s the three-fold promise we have made to God, to each other, and to the world … a promise we will again offer as a community in just a few minutes.
To proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ.
To seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves.
To strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being.
Live out your baptismal covenant, always and everywhere. Invite others into the line with you; in fact, give them your place in the line. Be last so that others may be first. Make what we get at the end of our line that moment when divisions may cease and all may once again be one, and all may again be walking in the same direction as a family to the hope, joy and redemption of God.
Amen.