The Doveنموونە

The Creator at the Jordan

For those of us who are not ancient Jews, we need all of that Old Testament context fresh in our minds to understand what happens the day Jesus rocks up at the river Jordan.

Imagine being a first-century Jew, living under Roman occupation. They live in a world that is vicious and vindictive, cruel and callous. Their world is frightening, and their ‘Promised Land’ belongs to a Pagan Tyrant. They are desperate for Yahweh to move, for God to act, for Elohim to pronounce judgement on the evil they daily live at the mercy of. They feel the need for a flood of God’s judgement to fall again. Surely, it’s as bad as in the days of Noah? Surely, this warrants an intervention?

And so they’ve gathered at the Jordan on this auspicious day. Oh, they don’t know about Jesus; they don’t know they’re about to witness history in the making. But they know about John, and they know about his preaching.

The Prophets had always been a bit strange. Isaiah walked around naked; Ezekiel cooked food over dung; Jeremiah wept. A lot. And John – he fit right in. Donning his camel hair, eating locusts and honey, he was strange, alright. But his preaching — his preaching was something else.

They could feel something in the atmosphere, a stirring, a longing: that dangerous and deadly thing they called hope. But they couldn’t stay away. It was too profound, too powerful, as he pronounced the impending Messiah. He was preparing the way for one he claimed would be more powerful than he; John the Baptiser baptised in water, but the Messiah would baptise in the Spirit with fire. With a winnowing fork in hand, he would clear the threshing-floor, and gather his wheat into the barn and burn up the chaff with fire. He would be one who would distinguish and differentiate, bring freedom and liberate. ‘You’re impressed with me?’ you can almost hear him say, ‘Just wait until you meet him.’

And then, one day, John’s cousin comes forward, Jesus of Nazareth, and asks to be baptised. John can scarcely imagine it – he’s hardly worthy! And besides, this is a very humble, gentle, ordinary sort of image; it’s hardly fire and power.

Little did he know that the fire would come, but first, Jesus must go through the waters as he affirmed this covenantal sign, this sacrament we perpetually hold dear.