Isaiah 42:1-9
Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my spirit upon him;
he will bring forth justice to the nations.
He will not cry or lift up his voice,
or make it heard in the street;
a bruised reed he will not break,
and a dimly burning wick he will not quench;
he will faithfully bring forth justice.
He will not grow faint or be crushed
until he has established justice in the earth;
and the coastlands wait for his teaching.
Thus says God, the Lord,
who created the heavens and stretched them out,
who spread out the earth and what comes from it,
who gives breath to the people upon it
and spirit to those who walk in it:
I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness,
I have taken you by the hand and kept you;
I have given you as a covenant to the people,
a light to the nations,
to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.
I am the Lord, that is my name;
my glory I give to no other,
nor my praise to idols.
See, the former things have come to pass,
and new things I now declare;
before they spring forth,
I tell you of them.
Matthew 3:13-17
Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
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We all know the saying, “first things first.”
Today, I want to talk about “second things second.”
Because the story of Jesus’s baptism, and of John in the wilderness before him, is a story not of “first things” but of “second things.” It is a story for anyone who has ever found themselves in second place, and a story for anyone who has ever had to take a second look to really see what is going on, and a story for anyone who has ever rejected their first instincts or let go of their first impressions.
This is a story of second things.
Jesus comes out to the wilderness, like so many others, to be baptized by John in the Jordan.
And right away, it is a story of seconds.
In their first meeting, Jesus takes second position to John, not demanding to do the baptizing, but offering himself to be baptized.
In this way, putting John ahead of himself, Jesus begins this story by affirming everything John has been doing in the wilderness thus far; everything the prophets have been doing for generations.
This is a big deal. Jesus, the Messiah, the one for whom we have been waiting, finally shows up. And his first move is not to claim supremacy for himself, or to scrap the hopes and the dreams of the faithful who have been clinging to and and living by God’s covenant and promises.
Jesus shows up, and he puts the faith of others and the calling of others ahead of himself. He puts himself in second place, from the very start, to affirm John’s calling, and to affirm the hope and calling of all who kept the faith before him, and to affirm the hope and faith of all who will come after him.
This is a story of second things.
And then this whole business of Jesus being baptized at all! Another story of seconds.
Because Jesus already has all the first things: He already bears the fullness of God. He is already empowered to do divine things. He is already equipped with everything he needs to build God’s kingdom on earth.
There’s nothing that he needs from those waters of baptism. Righteousness and forgiveness and salvation already belong to him.
But Jesus can’t do anything with all of these first things until he takes the second step: to say yes to his calling. Jesus has all the power of God coursing through his veins, the potential to do great and miraculous things. But he has to make the second move, to consent to the path that is set before him.
And so he steps into the waters. He makes the second move. He gets into the river to say, “yes” to the ministry that is set before him, just as he said “yes” to the ministry set before John. And God says “yes” back to him, in the form of a dove and a voice saying words like “beloved” and “well pleased.”
This is a story of second things.
Jesus’s baptism marks the beginning of his public ministry, the start of his work on earth, the Messiah among us, bringing to birth the kingdom of God.
John has been proclaiming this Messiah for a while. He has been a prophet like Elijah, eating wild honey in the wilderness. He has been a prophet like Amos, speaking judgment to the powerful. He has been a prophet like Isaiah, driven and motivated by a hope that has teeth. John has been living and preaching a faith in a God who promises justice for the poor, return for the exiles, a day of the Lord when all the world will be made right.
John gets a lot right out there in the wilderness. Except for one thing.
HIs first instinct is to preach a Messiah who will show up with fire in his eyes, sweeping away evil like an angry God destroying the earth all over again. John assumes that the Messiah’s power will come from might.
But Isaiah says of God’s chosen one that he will not do the first or easiest thing. He won’t break the already bruised reed. He won’t quench the already-weak flame. He will, however, bring justice to the earth, faithfully, not by shouting, but by entering the sorrows of the prisoners sitting in the dark, and the blind who are waiting for sight.
Jesus’s ministry will be filled not with first instincts but with second things. Jesus will take a second look at those whom the world has given a first glance and then passed by. Jesus will always do the less obvious thing. The harder thing. The deeper work of second chances and healing and looking out for those who are in second or third or last place. Jesus’s ministry will not be about first-rate displays of power but instead about movements of compassion for what the world actually needs.
This ministry will look so different from John’s first instincts about what a Messiah should be that later, John will ask out loud, “Are you the Messiah, or should we wait for another?”
This is a story of second things.
When we talk about baptism, and the way we understand it, we talk about how the water connects us to the life of Jesus, and the way that the water initiates us into a life of faith, and the way that the water is filled with promises.
When we talk about baptism, what we are really doing is talking about second things.
The first move in baptism is God’s move. God promises to love us, to claim us, to call us “beloved,” to give us all of hope and power to live as God’s children in the world.
The second move in baptism is our move, just like it was Jesus’s move. To say “yes” to the calling that God sets before us in faith:
- to be in fellowship with all of God’s people
- to praise God and share in prayer for ourselves and the world
- to serve all people, seeking not our self-interest, but the good of others
- to share the good news of our faith out loud, that God cares about and saves the hurting and the despairing and the underdogs and the second-bests
- and to strive, to struggle, to work with every fiber of our being, to bring God’s justice and peace to the earth.
These are all second things.
Our first instinct is to pass by the stranger on the side of the road.
Our first instinct is to assume that somebody else can help out.
Our first instinct is to take advantage of an opponent’s weakness to swoop in for victory.
Our first instinct is to react with anger and violence.
Our first instinct is to see ourselves or to save face.
But Jesus calls us to follow his example. To take a breath. To step back. To be mindful of God’s hopes and our faith.
And then, to do the second thing instead.
This week, we have walked to the brink of war and looked over the edge. Maybe our first instinct is play king of the hill, to say “might-makes-right.” Maybe our first instinct is to say, “it didn’t escalate like it could have, so everything is fine.”
But Jesus says “love your enemies,” and “bless those who curse you,” and “blessed are the peacemakers.”
What might doing the second thing look like instead?
This week, we have watched our world tremble and flood and burn. Maybe our first instinct is despair. Or maybe our first instinct is to write off the destruction climate change as inevitable and unstoppable.
But the Psalmist says, “God is our refuge and strength, therefore we will not fear, though the earth be changed, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea,” and Jesus says, “consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air and God’s great care for them, and for us, and for all creation.”
What might doing the second things look like instead?
Like Jesus, we are called in our baptisms to devote our lives to second things: to faithfully rebel and resist tools of violence and fear and oppression, and to remember that Christ’s power does not look like this world’s power. We are called to take a second look the power of hope, healing, compassion, kindness, and gracel; and never underestimate the ability of these things to change the world, to bend it closer and closer to a vision of God’s kingdom for which we wait.
So this is a story today for all of us who have ever played second fiddle. All of us who need to take a second look at our lives and our world. All of us who are tired of striving for first place and who instead are ready to strive for the kingdom of God.
Because God has already done the first thing. He has claimed you and blessed you and said “yes” to you and given you gifts and a calling in this world. He has already set before you pathways of love and justice.
The second move is yours.