The
night that James was born was by far the scariest night of my life.
We
had already spent about twenty-two hours in the delivery room, and Jess’ water
had broken about four hours before that. Now, I don’t know how much y’all know
about pregnancy—though I am assuming most of the women here know it on a much
more intimate level than I ever could—but when the mom-to-be’s water breaks,
there is only supposed to be a twenty-four hour window for the baby to born.
With the absence of the protective water sac, the risk of infection for the
baby grows immensely.
And
after 26 hours of labor, Jess was not progressing. We both already knew why the
mid-wife was coming in to talk to us, but that did little to truly prepare
either of us for what she had to say.
The
baby had to come out, and he had to come out now. It was time for a caesarean
section.
I
was stunned, and did not know what to say or do. I have to give Jess a lot of
credit, though, because even in the midst of this revelation, she stayed
focused and stayed strong. The doctor came in and told us what would happen,
and then they began preparations. I was given a set of paper scrubs to wear,
and I was so nervous that I actually tore the shirt and one of the shoe-covers
trying to get it on. It was basically a t-shirt and a sock for my shoe, but I
was so freaked out that I couldn’t remember how to put either on.
Finally,
it was time to go into the operating room. In what was easily the brightest and
whitest room I have ever seen, the doctors and nurses were gathering around
Jess. A partition had been set up at her neck, and I was moved to a stool next
to her head. As the final preparations were being made, I talked to my wife and
tried to comfort her. The surgeon began his work, and in what seemed both like
mere moments and also an eternity, a cry erupted from behind the curtain. One
of the nurses lowered the partition enough for the doctor to show us our son.
He was crying as loud as his little lungs would allow him, and he was filthy
with afterbirth, and he had the angriest look I’ve ever seen on that tiny
little face.
And
he was beautiful.
The
nurses took him over, cleaned him up, and then brought him over to me. I held
him close and just looked at him. After all of the stress and fright from the
past 27 hours—not to mention the past nine months—he was here. I can honestly
say I had never loved anyone as much as I did in that moment, and I have never
been happier in my entire life.
Now,
James did nothing to earn my love, and he did nothing to elicit those emotions
from me. He did absolutely no work in the birthing process; all of that credit
goes to Jessica and the medical staff. But when I looked at him that night,
there in the OR, I knew that I would always love him, and that he would always
be a source of joy in my life.
He
didn’t have to earn it. He is my son, and it is his birthright to be loved by
his father.
We
heard earlier the story of John baptizing Jesus in the Jordan. John, son of
Zechariah and cousin of Jesus, was evangelizing to the people of Judea, telling
them of the coming Messiah and urging them to prepare for Christ’s coming by
repenting and turning back to God. He worked out in the wilderness, and people
came from all around to see him and to hear his words. He was not afraid to call
out those who were in need to correction, and he spoke in such a way that moved
a great many people to action.
His
message was simple: The Lord is coming, so let’s be ready for him.
And
among those in the crowd is Jesus himself. You know, we a church often forget
or at least overlook that Jesus was not the only one baptized that day by John.
The Gospel of Luke, which includes the largest of the two birth stories, spends
a total of two verses on the baptism of Jesus. Yet even here, the message could
not be clearer: “When everyone was being baptized,
Jesus also was baptized.”
One Christian writer puts it this way: “Jesus presented himself
for baptism as an act of solidarity with a nation and world of sinners. Jesus
simply got in line with everyone who had been broken by the war and tear of
this selfish world and had all but given up on themselves and their God. When
the line of downtrodden and sin-sick people formed in hopes of new beginnings
through a return to God, Jesus joined them. At his baptism, he identified with
the damaged and broken people who needed God.” (Robert M. Brearly)
Jesus, the one whose birth was hailed by the angelic hosts and
whose star lit up the sky, stood with those who were broken. Jesus, the one of
whom the prophets of old spoke and the one destined to save the world, waited
in line with those who had nothing to lose because everything was lost to them.
Jesus, the Messiah, was baptized alongside sinners. As the multitude
participated in this act of repentance and hope, the Son of God stood among
them in solidarity.
Friends, that is powerful.
And as Jesus comes up out of the water, the heavens open, the
Spirit of God descends like a dove upon him, and the voice of God declares,
“You are my son, whom I dearly love. In you I find happiness.” Now, I want
y’all to pay attention to this because it is huge. Before Jesus begins his
ministry—before he heals the sick, brings sight to the blind, and causes the
lame to walk, before he preaches his Gospel message that the Kingdom of God is
near, before the calling of the disciples, before the feeding of the
multitudes, and long before his death on a cross—before all of this, God speaks
to Jesus, claims him as God’s son, and tells him how much he is loved and how
much happiness he brings. God shares this with Jesus before he did anything to show he
deserved God’s love.
You
see, Jesus didn’t have to earn it. He is God’s son, and it is his birthright to
be loved by his Father.
So on this day, as the Messiah is baptized by John alongside the
multitudes in the Jordan River, God claims Jesus as God’s own. The significance
of this is magnificent. You see, it is not when Jesus is lying in the manger,
nor when the wise men come to present him gifts, nor even when he is twelve and
teaching in the Temple that God speaks this message of love. Instead, it is
while Jesus is surrounded by broken, sinful people—those who have dared to hope
that repentance and turning toward God might bring redemption to their lost
world. It is here that God speaks, here that God declares his love. Here, in
Jesus’ baptism, God claims him.
And it is here, in baptism, that God claims us as well. In baptism, God
washes away the our sins and we are claimed as beloved children of the
Almighty. Baptism is the outward symbol of the old self dying and new self born
anew in Christ. Just as Jesus was baptized in the Jordan River and publicly
claimed as God’s Son, so God publicly claims us at our baptism. You see, when
we are baptized into the family of God, we become more than we once were; we
become brothers and sisters of Christ. And, like Christ, we are claimed by God
as God’s children, those who are dearly loved and those who bring God great
happiness.
Listen
to Paul’s words in his letter to the church in Galatia: “You are all God’s children through faith in Christ Jesus.
All of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.
There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither slave nor free; nor is there
male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. Now if you belong to
Christ, then indeed you are Abraham’s descendants, heirs according to the
promise.”
He takes this message even further in his letter to the church in
Rome: “You didn’t receive a spirit of slavery to lead you back again into fear,
but you received a Spirit that shows you are adopted as his children. With this
Spirit, we cry, “Abba, Father.” The same Spirit agrees with our spirit, that we
are God’s children. But if we are children, we are also heirs. We are God’s
heirs and fellow heirs with Christ, if we really suffer with him so that we can
also be glorified with him.”
In our baptism, we join Christ at the Jordan. In the waters of
baptism, we share with Christ, and we stand together with the Savior of the
world. And in that solidarity, God claims us, calls us beloved, and declares
that in us, God is truly happy.
God looks at us with love greater than we could ever imagine, love
greater, even, than the love I have for my brand new son.
Next week, James will be presented before a cloud of witnesses
comprised of friends and family for baptism. As one of the pastors at my home
congregation baptizes my baby, he will join among this large group of co-heirs
with Christ, beloved by God and one who brings God happiness. This is important
to understand: James isn’t going to do anything to earn this, he is going to
receive it freely as his birthright as a child of God claimed through baptism.
Like me, maybe like you, and like so many throughout history and throughout the
world, James is not choosing this. He can’t. He’s a baby. Instead, he is freely
receiving the unbelievable grace of God. I cannot wait to witness and
participate in this special day, and I am so excited about spending the rest of
my life telling James of the wonderful day when he was claimed by God.
So may we remember that in Jesus’ baptism, the Son of God stands
in solidarity with broken and sinful humanity. May we stand with him in hope.
May we remember that God’s love for Christ was not something Jesus earned or
deserved but instead was simply his birthright. And may we remember that when
we are baptized, we become co-heirs with Christ and that God looks down on us,
claims us as God’s own, and tells us we are truly loved and that we bring God
happiness.
Friends, this is Good News for us today, so let us celebrate it!
Amen.
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