January 8, 2006
Oh, The Places You'll Go
Mark 1:7-11

Sermon by The Rev. Steve Rice, Vicar, St. Michaels, Waynesboro
preached at St. Paul's, Jesup

A parish priest was being honored at a dinner on the twenty-fifth anniversary of his arrival in that parish. A leading local politician, who was a member of the congregation, was chosen to make the presentation and to give a little speech at the dinner, but he was delayed in traffic, so the priest decided to say his own few words while they waited.

"You will understand," he said, "the seal of the confessional can never be broken, however I got my first impressions of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I can only hint vaguely about this, but when I came here 25 years ago I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first chap who entered my confessional told me how he had stolen a television set, and when stopped by the police, had almost murdered the officer! Further, he told me he had embezzled money from his place of business and had an affair with his boss's wife. I was appalled! But as the days went on, I learned that my people were not all like that, and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of understanding and loving people."

Just as the priest finished his talk, the politician arrived full of apologies at being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and give his talk.

"I'll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived in this parish," said the politician. "In fact, I had the honor of being the first one to go to him in confession."

Do you think John heard Jesus’ confession?

Now I know that sounds strange, of course John didn’t hear the confession of Jesus because Jesus didn’t have anything to confess.

But John was baptizing people for the forgiveness of their sins.  People were leaving their homes and their jobs, men put down their tools and women left their chores and they went to the River.  

They went to the River and the cool water washed their feet as they walked out to this sage, this wild man, this man who was strange – but made sense. 

They wanted to confess their sins; they needed to confess their sins.  They wanted to get all the things they had hidden in the deep, dark corners of the hearts out, they wanted it out, and John was standing in the water waiting to listen.

I always had this image of an assembly line in the Jordan River.  I always pictured a long line of people dressed in white walking out to John singing “Let’s Go Down to the River,” and one by one, like clockwork, John would hold their noses and dip them in the water, just like the Baptists do in Georgia.

But instead they probably waded out to John, not wearing white, but whatever dusty, dirty, dingy thing they worked in, and as they came face to face with John, smelly, uncut, locust eating John, I imagine they put their lips to his hear, and poured everything out. 

“I have cheated.  I have stolen.  I have hated.  I have not loved.  I have killed.  I have wanted to kill.  I have hated God.”

And when they were finished, minutes or even hours later, John cleansed them with water and told them to turn to God.

And we know this is true, and we affirm the baptisms of John and in some level, we wish we were there, bringing all of our sins and dirt and grime with us to have it all washed clean; to tell John all the things we have done, said, and thought, things we are honestly just too embarrassed to tell our own priest, John was no priest, he was, he was – he was different.

But I get uncomfortable, and maybe you do too, when we start talking about Jesus in that crowd.  Jesus was standing in line.  Jesus had dirt on his feet, torn clothes like the rest of them, and he was waiting to be baptized by John.

I get uncomfortable, and maybe you do too, when we start wondering what Jesus said to John when he reached the middle of the River.  We get uncomfortable when we wonder if Jesus put his lips to John’s ear, and if he did, what did he say?

In other words, we are wondering why was Jesus baptized?

Don’t you think John the Baptist was thinking the same thing? 

One minute John was telling everybody, everybody who had ears to hear that he was not the Messiah but that the Messiah was coming, a man so great that he was not even worthy to bend down and untie his sandals.  A man that was now standing in the water with everyone watching, waiting to receive John’s baptism: a baptism for the forgiveness of sins.

I grew up in the country of South Carolina.  The country of South Carolina is the same as the country of Georgia, many little boys and girls grow up going hunting with their daddies and mamas.  I remember as a young boy going deer hunting with my father.  I was a teenager before I actually carried my own rifle, but for years I would dress up as a miniature of my father. 

At 4 o’clock in the morning, my father would come in my room, “Steve, come on, let’s get up.”  We would quietly eat our cereal and then dress in our boots, overalls, and coats in the laundry room.

We would quietly get in the truck not wanting to wake the rest of the house and go to whatever place my dad had picked for us to hunt.  When we reached out destination, my father would give me the instructions all over again, and I remember one morning’s instructions very clearly:

            “Now be very quiet, stay right behind me.”

            “But Dad, I can’t see where I’m going, it’s too dark.”

            “Don’t worry son, just step wherever I step.”

I have no idea what Jesus said to John the Baptist in the middle of the Jordan River, but I can imagine:

            “Lord, I cannot baptize you, you should baptize me!”

            “John, all of these people are looking to follow God.  To follow Him, they must step where I step.  Please, take me into the water.”

Maybe that’s it!  Maybe that’s the reason why Jesus was baptized, not because he needed baptism, not because he had any sin that needed forgiven or any acts that needed repentance, but it’s because of us, because of you and me!

Perhaps Jesus was baptized for our sake and not his own.  After all, why are we baptized?  Because Jesus was baptized.  Why do we celebrate the Holy Eucharist every single week?  Because Jesus presided over the first Eucharist and told us to continue every time we come together.  Why do we not fear death?  Because Jesus overcame the grave.

Everything that Jesus did was for us.  Every word that came out of his mouth, every miracle that came from his hands, and every breath he took was for, because, and on behalf of us.

Everything we do in the church involves following Jesus; it involves stepping where he stepped, going where he went, and doing what he did 

Jesus himself told us that going where he went, saying he said, and doing what he did was not always easy; but think of the places he went, think of the things he did, think of the things he said!

I have a 16-month-old daughter that lives in a 2,200 square foot toy box.  The whole house is hers, from the kitchen to the bathroom, and from the garage to the bedroom, she has full reign.  Our job as parents is to pick up after her and feed her, that’s just about it.  On Friday as I was picking up the pile of books she had thrown all over the room, I picked a small book that looked like a Dr. Seuss book I had known as a child, but this one was different.

Dr. Seuss’ widow had written the introduction to a baby version of “Oh the Places You Will Go.”  Flipping through the pages I couldn’t help but think about Jesus’ baptism, and more specifically, our baptism:

            Into the font, feel the water flow,

            Your God has claimed you, don’t you know?

            This is your baptism, oh the places you will go.           

            When through the waters you have broken,

            A new creation in your soul has awoken,

            Follow the footsteps of Jesus, my child, and they will show,

            Oh the places you will go.

Amen.