Epiphany 1 Baptism of Christ- Luke 3.15-17, 21-22- Playing our part
When I switch on the tv, (its a rare thing when the kids are focussed on YouTube constantly and dominate the living room tv, but it has been known), so when I switch on the tv, I sometimes find one of the marmite programmes on: the one I’m thinking of is ‘Britains Got Talent.’ You either love it or you hate it. .. I’ll let you guess which side of the marmite jar I fall on that one.
But it struck me how keen people were on that programme to present their acting or singing, their showmanship or their overcoming hardships in order to just be there. They were so keen. And no matter whether they got 4 strikes from the judges or progressed to the next round, the people performing on the show had one thing in common: they had all come into the limelight from the insignificance of their daily lives. Regardless of the result, they had all been lifted up into the story of the show itself.
And I thought for a bit, that in many ways, the gospel story for today, is not too dissimilar. Somewhere, alongside an insignificant river (it’s not one of the great rivers of the world), a wandering prophet and hitherto unknown carpenter from Nazareth along with a nameless crowd came to experience themselves being lifted up into the story of God.
It is often the case that from an insignificant place, with an insignificant background, people of no account were made, by God’s grace, to become pivotal parts of one of the greatest stories on earth.
Unlike Matthew’s version of this moment, we hardly notice the crowd in Luke’s version. The insignificance of them all is played out by the very easy way we don’t even realise they are there. In fact, even Jesus is included in this, as he and the crowd are lumped together in one sentence: ‘now when all the people were baptised and Jesus also had been baptised...’ It’s almost a non-event.
But what happens next is anything but a non-event. We read of heavens opening and words being said. Suddenly the story takes a turn that threads the very fabric of the whole of the Old Testament hopes through this tiny tiny head of a needle of ordinariness, and prepares it to become the beginning of a tapestry of hope in God’s great story. The Holy Spirit descends, the statement declares sonship and parenthood. Suddenly, from insignificance, Jesus is caught up in this unexpected moment of the Trinity of God.
Some versions of the ancient parchments of scripture don’t say ‘You are my Son, with you I am well pleased,’ but record the verse like this: ‘You are my Son, today I have begotten you.’ As if it was from the baptism itself that Jesus’ divinity was begun. I prefer to read it a little like that tv programme, Britain’s Got Talent. It’s as if the voice might have said ‘This one, this one is the talent we have been looking for, the star of the show that is to come.’ All the crowd were given a part on the stage, but this is the one who will carry the story for us.
And so just like that, a meaningless river became famous, a wondering prophet with odd eating habits is remembered for all time, and an unknown carpenter from Nazareth begins the most dramatic public-stage career one could ever imagine.
And the crowd, they were raised up into this moment too. They too had been on stage as it were, put themselves out there to be baptised, to be counted among those willing to make an effort for God. They were on the show. They took part. Out of the insignificance of their life, they had a chance to do their thing and be part of the story.
Today also, the same things go on. We live feeling like we are often insignificant creatures, in a forgotten backwater, nothing the worth for the big stories of the world. But that is the material God always starts with.
For example, that God would choose a peasant girl and put her under the pressure of society’s harsh eyes, make smelly shepherds turn up, and foreigners whose overarching cross-border agenda could only ever be something overwhelming for a young woman such as she. That’s how God chose to start the story of Jesus. Now here we are on a riverbank with unknowns, milling about, wanting this God stuff but not quite knowing how to do it all. Isn’t God special to always do that.
We too, are not going to be left out of the story. If you feel your life is one left in the backwaters, be ready, you are the basis of becoming part the story of God and it is guarantied that you will play a part, even if it is only when you get to look back that you realise when it was.
