A sermon preached at Calvary Presbyterian Church in San Francisco, CA

Jan 7, 2024

Introduction to Worship

The four gospels tell the story of Jesus in different ways, but they all agree that Jesus was baptized by John and they agree that his baptism inaugurated the beginning of his public ministry.

So, this morning, we’ll consider Jesus’ baptism and we’ll consider our own.

John the baptizer was preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin. And Mark tells us that everyone came. Which seems sort of odd to me. I imagine you could draw everyone to the opening of a restaurant  if George Clooney were going to be there. But I have a hard time imagining everyone coming to repent of their sins. But, there they were. 

And John tells the crowd, “I’m only baptizing you with water. Someone more powerful is coming after me and he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” 

And then that someone more powerful shows up, not to baptize, but to be baptized. And there is nothing in the text to suggest that Jesus went to the First Class check in line either. It appears that Jesus showed up in the midst of everyone else from Judea. And after standing in the long line, he was baptized by John. The text doesn’t even suggest that John recognized Jesus when he saw him, as the person to whom he’d been referring. 

Until the baptism. 

Because after his baptism, the heavens were shredded apart and the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus like a dive bombing pigeon. 

And the voice. 

A voice from heaven says, “You are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Yet another one of those moments I wish I had been there to see for myself. What did everyone else hear when the voice spoke? And did it scare the dickens out of them? 

Somehow, some way, the separation between earth and heaven collapses at the baptism of Jesus. 

“You are my beloved. In you I am well pleased.”

One very radical notion we hold as Christians is that in baptism we are joined with Christ in his baptism.  How many of you (no need to raise your hands) hear those words, “You are my beloved. In you I am well pleased” and believe them?

Because you should.

It is my experience, in the way we treat each other and in the way we treat ourselves, that we don’t always believe it. We have a hard time internalizing this message from God.

Today we will remember our baptism as we think about Jesus’ baptism. And if you’ve never been baptized, that’s okay. God’s voice crying out from the heavens is still crying out beloved. 

Beloved. 

Beloved. 

Beloved is where we begin. 

Scripture

Mark 1:1-20

Sermon

Two Sundays ago, we gathered here in candlelight to read Luke’s account of the beginning of the Good News of Jesus, proclaimed by angels, shepherds, and pondered in Mary’s heart. 

Last week, we were with the magi as they followed the star to the baby Jesus. It feels a little weird, doesn’t it, to jump from a baby in a manger to a grown man being baptized in the Jordan by John and calling his disciples?

I don’t know. I guess sometimes life feels like that. My children are no longer small babies in footie jammies, awake at 5 am to see what Santa brought, but it sometimes feels like it was just 3 days ago when they were. 

And now we are hearing Mark’s account of the beginning of the Good News of Jesus.

We know the 4 gospels begin their stories differently. Matthew has wise men. Luke has shepherds. John—well, John is a whole different thing—with Jesus at the beginning of time. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God. And the Word was God…”

Mark was the first account of Jesus’ life that was written down and in circulation. And we don’t know if he didn’t know of the birth story or if, as I suspect, it just wasn’t pertinent to the story of Jesus he wanted to tell.

Mark’s Gospel, which we will be hearing from in the coming season until Easter, already knows the ending of the story before he starts writing the beginning.  And it is the story of the cross, not the story of the birth, that drives Mark’s gospel in its breakneck pace. Mark’s gospel is told with the destination in mind. 

In Greek, the word “immediately” is used by Mark 11 times in the first chapter of this gospel, and 30 more occasions throughout the next 14 chapters. The people who translate it into English change a few of them into other words to provide variety.

As you hear his story, though, you can feel “immediately” beating like a drumbeat, moving the story forward to the conclusion at the cross. And at the end, the angel’s message at the tomb sends his followers back to Galilee, completing the circle that began with the Beginning of the Good News we just heard today.

For Mark, once you know the ending of the story, you realize it is only the beginning and you want to, you have to, go back to the beginning and pay attention with new eyes, with new understanding, to the beginning of the story. 

The church also finds its place in this circular story. We begin again this story of Jesus, finding new meaning in it each time we hear it, receiving different gifts and insights from the story each time because of where we are in our journey each time we hear it. 

How do you feel about beginnings? 

We’ve just started a new year, and often people pick the beginning of a new year to become new people. Or maybe it is when we think we could become completely different people, if you listen to our resolutions. This is the year I will lose weight. Or get organized. Or exercise every day, even though I didn’t exercise one single day last year. Or start eating vegetables. 

Whatever it is we resolve to do, I hear the hope in our resolutions. I also hear anxiety and perhaps a little bit of self loathing. 

So if you are a resolution setter, I encourage you to begin  knowing you are God’s beloved child. You are always and already loved by God. Beloved is where we begin, not what is waiting for us at the other end of weight loss, sobriety, a marathon, or whatever it is you might be resolving.  

If you begin with beloved, does it change what you resolve? Eating more vegetables because God loves me and wants me to live well is a lot more fun than eating vegetables because I think that love or acceptance is only on the other side of a year of salads. 

If I do resolutions, I try to remember belovedness. One year I resolved to eat more avocado. Another year I was intentional about writing actual letters to friends. One year I read more poetry. Those were good resolutions.  

Sometimes at the beginning of a new story, we are just ready to say goodbye to our old story. Remember how cathartic it felt to say goodbye to 2020? Even though covid is still with us 4 years later, we had all experienced so much loss, so much death, so much division, so much anxiety, and so much grief in that year, it was a relief to welcome in a new year. 

Of course 2020 also had gifts in it. It’s when I moved here to be with you, after all. A gift for which I am still thankful every day. And that is how life is too. Blessing and challenge all wrapped up together. 

Mark’s gospel begins with the beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ. It doesn’t begin with the Ending of the Bad News.  Or the final completion of all that is good. 

It’s a beginning.  

In Mark’s account, we begin with John the Baptist, gathering large crowds and baptizing a baptism of repentance. Jesus, too, is baptized by John, with the heavens parting, and the Divine voice proclaiming “you are my son, the beloved. With you I am well pleased”. 

I’m not sure we can ever hear that voice enough.

And maybe, especially, right after the holidays, we need that reminder that we are God’s beloveds, and with us, God is well pleased. Isn’t that the lesson of Christmas? God chose to become one of us, to be one with us. God didn’t do that because God hated us. God became one of us because God so loved the world. 

The Christmas story in Mark’s gospel is telling us that God is telling a new story, and the work of Christmas needs to begin.

Immediately.

So Jesus calls his disciples. Immediately. And immediately they leave their nets and their lives and their families and they follow.

Howard Thurman was an African American pastor, born in the segregated South at the dawn of the 20th century, and was a mentor to Martin Luther King, jr and other leaders of the Civil Rights movement. Here is something he said that speaks to the call of the disciples in light of Christmas:

“When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among people,
To make music in the heart.”

The disciples encountered Jesus, not as a baby in a manger as the shepherds and magi had, but as a grown man calling them to join in the work of Christmas, announcing the beginning of the Good News.

We sit here, a week into a new year and we hear the call of Jesus to get busy with the work of Christmas.

Answering that call can seem daunting. But I offer the disciples as a point of encouragement.

Because what did Jesus really know of their qualifications for ministry when he picked them? They were not-very-well-educated fishermen from Galilee. Jesus hadn’t seen their Theology test scores. He didn’t know anything about their public speaking skills or ask if any of them could fix a computer or play praise songs on a guitar.

He just called them.

It appears their best qualification to join in with the work of Christmas happened to be that they answered the call when God walked by. 

The birth of God in Bethlehem is a reminder that God is inviting us to join a new story. One where people are called beloved, and called to repent, to return to what God is dreaming for them. 

Are you willing to answer if he walks past you while you’re in the midst of the work your life?

If you are certain that you don’t have what it takes to answer this call from Jesus, it’s okay. Remember we are first called beloved and then called to be disciples. We don’t become disciples in search of being loved. We are already and always loved by God. 

And God will give you what you need, but not before you need it. The disciples left behind their nets, their boats, the tools with which they surrounded themselves, and began the work of Christmas. And God provided. As we listen to the stories in the coming weeks, pay attention to how this random band of people become the Disciples of the Lord. Imagine what their friends and families thought when they walked away from fishing and took to preaching and healing. 

As you consider the beginning of the good news, remember it begins with beloved. And remember that you are God’s beloveds. With you, God is well pleased.
Amen

Benediction:

Some preachers in other traditions will tell you that if you follow Jesus, your life will only have good things in it and the road will be easy and the prosperity will roll in. 

I’m not one of those preachers. In this story we heard today, as soon as God calls out beloved from the heavens, Jesus is sent to the wilderness, where he faces trials and temptation. 

So I will leave us this day with the reminder that we are both beloved and also sometimes in the wilderness. And here’s a blessing for us from Jan Richardson. 

BELOVED IS WHERE WE BEGIN 

Jan Richardson, from Circle of Grace

 If you would enter
into the wilderness,
do not begin
without a blessing. 

Do not leave
without hearing
who you are:

Beloved,

named by the One
who has traveled this path
before you.

Do not go
without letting it echo
in your ears,
and if you find
it is hard
to let it into your heart,
do not despair.

That is what
this journey is for.

I cannot promise
this blessing will free you
from danger,
from fear,
from hunger
or thirst,
from the scorching
of sun
or the fall
of the night. 

But I can tell you
that on this path
there will be help.

I can tell you
that on this way
there will be rest.

I can tell you
that you will know
the strange graces
that come to our aid
only on a road
such as this,

that fly to meet us
bearing comfort
and strength,
that come alongside us
for no other cause
than to lean themselves
toward our ear
and with their
curious insistence
whisper our name:

Beloved.

Beloved.

Beloved.