The Rev. Ann R. Lougee
January 13, 2008
Gold and circumstance and mud
Isaiah 42:1-9; Matthew 3:13-17

As a preacher, I follow the Revised Common Lectionary cycle of scripture readings that most UCC churches follow, as do many Methodist, Lutheran, American Baptist, and Episcopalian churches. Some people seem to have had the idea that the lectionary just gives the preacher a bunch of sermons. I'd like to clarify that this cycle merely prescribes scripture to be read, and is not a collection of sermons -- I do write my own sermons, based on those prescribed scriptures.

There are times, of course, when I don't use the readings for a certain Sunday, but, for the most part I find it a helpful discipline. It gives a rhythm to the church year, leading us to focus on different aspects of the Christian story at appropriate times. It keeps preachers from simply dealing with the texts that they like, forcing us to grapple with the whole range of biblical thought. It also means that other churches are dealing with the same readings at the same time, so if you happen to be traveling and visit another UCC church you'll probably be hearing about the same things that we're thinking about back here at home.

In year A of the three-year lectionary cycle, the gospel for the year is Matthew, in year B it's Mark, and in year C it's Luke, and then it starts over again. The current lectionary year, which began on the first Sunday in Advent, is year A, so the gospel from which we'll be hearing all this year is Matthew.

On the second Sunday of the Epiphany season every year, the lectionary presents us with the story of Jesus' baptism. So today we've heard Matthew's version of the story. Here at Pilgrim UCC in Redding, you'll never see a baptism such as Matthew describes: the baptizer wore clothing made of camel's hair held together with a leather thong tied around his waist. The one to be baptized was stripped down to his skivvies, and the site was the muddy River Jordan. This was not a sprinkling of water, with everyone dressed in their Sunday best. It was a full immersion, where everyone got not only wet but also muddy.

The only person I've ever known who was baptized in the Jordan River was our late, beloved member, Dorothy Wiles. Dottie had not been baptized earlier in life, and when she took a trip to the Holy Land, well into her adult years, she was baptized there. A swimmer into her 90's, Dottie loved being in water, but even she had to say that the Jordan River water was pretty muddy.

Thomas H. Troeger, a UCC clergyman and writer, looked at a picture of the muddy Jordan River and put his imagination to work on what it was like for Jesus to be baptized in it, resulting in the hymn, "What Ruler Wades through Murky Streams," number 169 in the New Century Hymnal. Because it's unfamiliar, we're not going to sing it, but here are some of the words:

What ruler wades through murky streams and bows beneath the wave, Ignoring how the world esteems the powerful and the brave? Christ gleams with water brown with clay from land the prophets trod.

All of this reminds me again of a story I've told before about a little girl whose Sunday School had so few children that in their staging of the Christmas pageant she was to represent all the Magi, bringing gold and frankincense and myrrh. Approaching the manger she announced, "I am the Magi. I come bringing gold and circumstance and mud."

Isn't that a wonderful description of the human condition? Gold, circumstance and mud? The gold of our good times, the varying circumstances of our lives, and the mud, the messiness of human life. So the idea of Jesus getting down and dirty in the mud with the rest of his countrymen just underscores to me how human he was.

It was after his baptism, as he was praying, that the gospels say a remarkable thing happened. Wiping the water from his eyes and shaking it from his ears, he seemed to see the skies open with a shaft of light and something like a bird, something straight from the heart of God, seemed to settle on him. Then also he seemed to hear a voice, that maybe only he heard, telling what it all meant: "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

What had Jesus done that was so pleasing? He hadn't yet begun his public ministry of healing and forgiving of sins and assuring others of God's love. All he had done so far was to say yes to the idea of it. It was sort of like when we've made our New Year's resolutions but haven't been tested in them yet. But he'd said yes to the idea of it.

That and joining those other sorry specimens of humanity in the Jordan. He did that, too. He joined the rest of us in the mud of the human condition, and a heavenly voice declared, "you are my beloved son and I am very pleased with you."


That's a direct quote, you've probably noticed, from this morning's Old Testament lesson from Isaiah, in which God talks about his suffering servant, his chosen one, who will redeem the world by humbly giving himself. When Isaiah wrote those words, he probably was referring to the whole people of Israel which he saw as chosen to save humanity by teaching them to know God.

But we can see why those words were applied to Jesus by the gospel writers to describe who he was, his relationship with God, what he did, and what his life and ministry were about. Jesus, the humble, suffering servant, the one whom the gospel writer says that God upholds and in whom God delights, has the very Spirit of God within himself.

What's more, Jesus teaches others that they can find that same Spirit in themselves also. Jesus is beloved of God, and so are we. What are we to do with that love but share it, out of gratitude, with one another and with those others who need most to know it?

All of this reminds us that how we live, how we order our lives and our world, matters. God's own faithfulness and care can work through us. Emulating Jesus can transform the gold, circumstance and mud of our world into beauty and grace, healing and justice. May it be so. Amen.