In the Stardust

Baptism of Jesus (and a bit of Epiphany) 2023 RCL A

We are stardust. Beloved amazing flawed stardust, but we are stardust. Water came to the raw rocky primordial earth In the same form that the Magi likely follow: comets and asteroids. Not soaking wet like water balloons, but through the compounds in the rocks. It is a wonder, is it not, that this earth, our island home Is covered in 366 trillion gallons of water. And that our rocks could hold 18x more H20 than that, while our nearest astral bodies: the moon, Venus, Mars, have much much less. What a wonder of cosmic holy timing it was that we have so much water. It doesn’t really go away. Some does evaporate into space, but most of it that was, is here. The same molecules that gushed from a rock in the desert, the same molecules that carried Paul to places we can no longer find on a map, the same molecules that rushed past Jesus’ hands and feet and head are still here. They could be in the clouds, or frozen on a Ukranian hillside, or in your neighbors koi pond. Does that make you shiver, utter a kind of holy whoa?

The riverside today, whether we imagine it riotous or placid: is complicated. It is surrounded by human polarities of how to live, how to love God, what does God’s love look and feel like? Is it carefully bounded and distributed, does its cleanliness and purity matter more than its endless adaptation and universality? There are arguments that are from the heart; and from the senses; and those that are from the desire to hold onto power; and those that are the thrill of extremes and arguments and intensities. John is here in the river because the intensity of the ins and outs, the glasses half full vs half empty teams, block out the new thing of God. The time and talent and resources consumed by these harsh arguments, is perhaps a sin in itself, even if the philosophy has guessed the answer correctly. John is in the river offering free reconciliation, as free as the water that covers the earth and flows past their bodies. No gold required, but only the cost of stepping outside the lines, the cost of hearing the good news and living into it for real, as real as getting drenched in your clothes in the middle of the river.

The tradition has volumes of questions about why Jesus is baptized, and this telling is the only one that voices it. Why is the embodiment of God’s love and grace and freedom and the rejection of evil seeking the outward sign of God’s love and grace and freedom from evil and sin? Jesus comes to us is born for us, lives, dies, rises – for us. This river, this creek, this flowing stardust, is the environment in which we live and harm and weep and rise. We are on a planet that is 71% water. Our bodies are similarly proportioned. Jesus comes to us, shows us the way, gets in the water with us – right in the middle. Shapes and educates us with his whole life. Jesus comes to the river, comes to the quiet center. Not to mediocrity or blandness but to the paradox of risk and harmony, a drenching in the vulnerability of life on earth.

Today we celebrate just a hint of the holy curiosity and daring in the journey of the Magi. Epiphany was Friday, it is always on January 6 that we remember that the incarnation of God in Jesus of Nazareth is not just a blip of a victory in an out of the way place, way back when. It is for the all the world, it is timeless, it is from beyond us just as water is from beyond us. We wrap up the season of Christmas with a Wise Ones reminder of the whoa, of the value of study and imagination, paying attention, and the sinful manipulations that seek to trounce the Good News Every single day.

More vividly today we recall the baptism of Jesus and we celebrate the sacrament of baptism with two young people. Baptism is the drenching mark of full Christianness. It is not an end, it is not even the start, but it is a signpost, an experience of collective effervesence through words and material, sights and sounds and smells. Baptism is jumping in with Jesus, letting the way of love fill our senses. The virtues and actions promised in the one baptism are for always, renewed again and again in the sacrament of communion. We come to the river with a multiplicity of needs and concerns. We come on a lark, a dare, responding to the nag of family and tradition, hearing a voice beyond reason. The cliff notes reference for how this way of Love in Christ brings peace and hope is in the baptismal liturgy. The one minute reel of who we are, and what we are about is this Baptismal Covenant. If I had my way we would swap it with the Nicene Creed as the regular statement of faith. Because how differently would we be shaped and inspired by regularly repeating the active promises and praying that we will do this with God’s help? Would it steep you with purpose, direction, memory? Would such a change be the good news you need?

This way of Jesus, is just this. One of effervesent humility and free flowing curiosity. This way of God – humility and prayer and lifelong learning – it is roots and belonging and community and revelation and sharing. It is work and it is wonder and it is a better gift than gold. The most important part of the lesson isn’t really the water or the question John poses. It is the divine voice breaking through declaring this is my beloved. You are one with Christ, you are God’s beloved. The magi are beloved. Whether our degrees and pockets and intelects are plentiful, or if we are just cobling life together day by day, we are loved loved loved and invited to the river. The same molecules that rained on the dinosaurs, are the ones that bathed the child Jesus, the ones that signify freedom as they splash in the font today: hear the startling voice say: You are loved, go and let us be love, always.

Link for first paragraph water science : https://youtu.be/AUAEBjlROWQ