“The tree beside running water is fresher and gives more fruit”

Sermon for The First Sunday after the Epiphany

Saint Peter's | Arlington, VA

Acts 8:14-17; Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

Moments after Jesus is submerged in the River Jordan, with the waters of baptism surely still falling from his face, Jesus prays. This morning I find myself wondering: just what words are lifted up in this moment? What does Jesus pray?

There isn’t anything particularly abnormal about this—at least not from the surface, anyway. Because Jesus consistently seems to pause and pray during the most critical and demanding situations. Whenever the dial on life’s demands gets turned up a few notches, he seems to almost turn away from the situation—to retreat and direct his attention toward something beyond present circumstances.

Now, if I’m honest, I wish I could say this was my initial impulse. But for as much as I practice and strive to be prayerful throughout my days, when moments of stress or worry present themselves, it comes all-too-naturally to instead try and white knuckle my way through them... 

So, again, I wonder with you: what does Jesus pray?

As the crowd gathers along the river banks, a palpable expectation fills the air. For several hundred years now, as the people wait for a promised Messiah who will lead them into liberation, it would seem God has been totally silent. ...But then a prophet begins making these big, bold proclamations out in the wilderness—and the people can’t help but feel something stirring in their hearts. Maybe, just maybe, John is the promised one?

So, as word spreads and larger and larger masses come to respond to this call for repentance, they are greeted with an especially warm welcome...of unquenchable fire and brimstone: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance.” I can nearly taste the sulfur even now…

We might hold John’s foreboding words alongside those of God spoken to Israel:

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”

John is concerned with the coming reign of God. It is the very same kind of hope-filled longing as the people. For him, ensuring the conditions are right is of utmost import. But for as absolutely clear as he is on the role he has to play, to prepare the way and make straights the paths for the Messiah, I’m not so sure John really knew what kind of Messiah to expect... And at times I think he might have even been a bit disappointed by the one presented.

All of this is swirling around, though. And John’s warnings are taken seriously. Sinners of all shapes and sizes line up to get right with the Lord—including the so-called respectable alongside the morally reprehensible and the most despised of society. Now, just imagine the scene for a moment: how it must have felt, how it sounded, how it smelled...

And Jesus takes his place in that line. Surrounded by all of those outcasts and sinners. He stands in solidarity with the people. This is his place—and he claims it that the day of the Lord indeed might come. 

After waiting for his turn in the line, he’s then baptized. And then in the middle of this scene he begins to pray... Again, I wonder, what does Jesus pray?

We can only imagine what’s rumbling around within him—what feelings or desires or divine petitions. The gospel doesn’t tell us. But for Luke, this moment is the pinnacle. It’s the focal point of the story. And it’s what changes everything. 

Because as Jesus prays, the Holy Spirit descends from an opening in heaven in the form of a dove. And as it rests on Jesus a voice says, “You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” 

Whatever it is Jesus prays, this would seem to be the response to that prayer.

The words he hears are both a private moment of intimacy between Jesus and God the Father and a public revelation of identity that is exchanged between Jesus and the people. 

It’s a moment of Epiphany. For our siblings in the Eastern Orthodox tradition, this is the central story of Epiphany—because through it God becomes visible. The Son of God is made manifest and reveals to us the purposes of God.

Jesus is equipped—here at the outset of his ministry—with everything he needs to face all that lies ahead. 

Everything from this point on will return again and again to what is revealed and affirmed in the waters of the Jordan that day. The Messiah who comes to deliver the people—whether or not John or any of us fully get how or really understand the implications—this Messiah will bring to us a salvation that is shaped by a steadfast identity rooted in belovedness.

This morning, together we as a community, have the joy and immense privilege of baptizing seven new disciples! 

In just a few moments, this font will be filled, and with these words Jenifer will give thanks for the water of baptism: 

“In it we are buried with Christ in his death.   By it we share in his resurrection.   Through it we are reborn by the Holy Spirit.” 

These words summarize well our own journey through baptism and our ministry as the baptized. 

Baptism begins with the invitation to “Bear fruit worthy of repentance.”

It is good to repent. Because repentance allows us to relinquish those things that do not serve us: like white knuckle self-reliance or anything that chokes life from us and inhibits our ability to know the fullness of life God desires for us.

But repentance is merely a beginning of a life-long journey of rebirth, though.

St. Teresa of Avila shares this wisdom, “The tree that is beside the running water is fresher and gives more fruit.” In the same way Jesus knows the value of pausing and returning to prayer again and again, we return to our baptismal vows and these prayers over and over again—that we might inhabit them more fully and to be strengthened anew.

What is most consequential is this good news: our baptism is enveloped in the baptism of Christ. So, those words spoken to Christ, the name given to him, is the same by which you are known, by which each one of us is known: Beloved.

The fruit of this identity is what we are made to know. All we have to do is accept it. As James Baldwin puts it, “Our crown has already been bought and paid for. All we have to do is wear it.”

So, Beloveds, as we gather to receive the waters of baptism this morning, whether it be for the first time or are returning here again, I wonder: what is your prayer? 

Perhaps, that prayer might be as simple as embodying belovedness. Allowing it to saturate your soul. And as you embark or continue on this journey of living out our baptism: know that no matter what the road may bring or where it has brought you thus far God speaks these words to you: 

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.” 

Amen