Each week, we look at one of the lectionary passages for the upcoming Sunday. This week we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus and will be looking at both Old Testament passage Genesis 1:1-5 and the Gospel Passage Mark 1:4-11.
A formless void. That is the first image of water in scripture. It is complete chaos. It is frightening. It is powerful. Before God speaks into it, water is anti-life.
I don't normally think about water in those terms. Being a runner, I'm pretty fond of water as a beverage. I love lakes, rivers, and oceans. Their rhythms calm me. It sounds hokey, but bodies of water remind me of my baptism. Water and I are on pretty good terms. Yet the chaos of water is part of my story too. You have to reach back pretty far for the tale; actually beyond what I can remember. But I have heard the story told enough that I can easily tell it.
When I was a toddler, probably not much older than our son Liam is now, my dad was playing with me out in the ocean. Dad always goes deep into water where it comes up to his chest. He loves to float and bob with the waves while chatting with others. That's all he wants to do when he goes to the beach. On this particular day, a large wave caught my dad by surprise. The force of the water wrenched me out of his arms and dragged me under water. In an instinctive panic, Dad plunged beneath the surface hoping to find me. Since I'm telling you this story, you can have probably already assumed that he was successful.
I wonder sometimes what would have happened if my dad hadn't acted so quickly. Would that moment have scarred me for life and made me forever terrified of the sea? Or could it have been even worse? Could I have been lost to that formless void?
It makes me wonder if I should be more afraid of the water. That's what countless authors in the Old Testament seem to suggest. Whenever water pops up, there is almost a flashing neon sign saying, "This is un-creation! This is what it was like before God's voice spoke over that formless void!" You see that chaos taking over during the Great Flood, when the sea comes crashing down on the Egyptians, when Jonah flails about in the water. This anti-life watery chaos comes for those that disobey God and exploit their fellow humans. The waves sweep them away.
Yet water is the symbol for re-birth in the Christian faith. It is baptism. Water is a good thing. There is continuity within this seeming paradox. Baptism represents death and resurrection, but that connection doesn't always sink in (pardon the pun). It didn't for me when I was seven, wearing a white robe, and feeling weird because I was wearing socks in a pool of water. I had a child's understanding of faith and my own sinfulness; an understanding which I believe God honors.
But I had been fortunate enough to not have truly experienced the chaos: the brokenness in this world and within myself that uncreates me. The idea of dying and coming back to life took time. In fact, it's still taking time to fully understand that.
I think that is why it is so important to remember our baptisms. It is this ongoing reminder of what God has done for us. We must remember that God has, is, and will make us new. Remember that God speaks over the watery chaos of our lives and creates a place for light and life. Remember that we are beloved children of God.
I have to think that the author of Mark knew what he was doing when he began his gospel with the voice of God again hovering over the waters. It is not the poetic echo of Genesis 1 that we find in John's Prologue. Like all things in Mark, it is less flashy. After being baptized, Jesus comes out of the water and that voice goes out over the water. It is to evoke new creation. Yet in this new story God not only speaks above the waters, but in Jesus dives down into the watery chaos to rescue us. God plunged to this earth in hopes of finding us.
So I am not sure what I think when I look at the water. On one hand, there is that hope that has always been there. It reminds me of my baptism and the grace God has given to me. It reminds me that where there should be death, God speaks it to life.
But it also scares me because that baptism calls me to follow the one at the center of the new creation. For Jesus, the watery chaos was not just some esoteric spiritual reminder. It was where he lived. It was his mission. People were getting swept away by hatred, selfishness, and needed someone who loved them enough to dive beneath the surface to help. And so if I am to remember my baptism, I have to remember that my baptism calls me to look at that same chaos in this world and plunge right in. That can be terrifying.