The Doveنموونە

Creation at the Jordan

In these historically significant waters, John baptised Jesus in an act that foreshadowed his death: he went down into the depths and rose again. And as he lifted Jesus up, miraculously, the heavens opened before them. Theologians describe it as an unveiling between heaven and earth; for a brief moment, the veil between these two overlapping realities was lifted, and something of heaven broke into earth.

Then, out of this miraculous unveiling came a voice, audibly affirming Jesus: This is my son, whom I love, ‘with him, I am well pleased’. What a wonder to see, what a sound to hear. This unveiling and voice, however, were not alone.

Visibly before them was – wait for it – a dove.

A dove flies out of this heavenly opening and alights – perches – on Jesus. God makes no mistakes, and this avian surprise was not random.

Imagine the crowds: speechless, lost in awe and wonder, because here were a people longing, desperately waiting and hoping, and they likely immediately understood what we have had to do a little contextual work for: they saw a dove and recalled a fluttering in Genesis and a work of creation; they recalled Noah and a work of un-creation beneath the ark; they saw it perch on Jesus and saw evidence of new life.

They understood that there were implications when over the waters there was a fluttering, when above the waves there was a hovering: before them was a picture of God’s (re)creation.

This is what they had all been waiting for. At last, God would act.

From here, Jesus began his mission: he entered the wilderness and emerged into his ministry, gathering disciples, preaching and healing, and setting his face, ultimately, towards Calvary.

Jesus later told them, ‘I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit’.

In him, and him alone, we find life out of the chaos of sin, and, as the dove found perch with Noah, evidencing re-creation, so too it found perch on Jesus, the true vine, the Creator who would bring new life. In him and him alone we can be made alive, and live the fruitful lives we are called to.

Can you remember the day you put your faith in Jesus? When did you recognise that he was your hope: the way, the truth and the life? Can you see how your life has borne fruit since then?

But the careful reader might have noticed, if this is an act of re-creation (and how welcome and lovely it is), where is the un-creation bit? Where is the judgement, the dealing with sin and evil as we saw in the days of Noah? God was getting to that.