When I was in college there was this band from Los Angeles that I loved and saw a handful of times in concert. They were called Ozomatli (named for the Aztec astrological symbol which is the god of dance, fire, the new harvest and music). They are a 7-piece band, and the first time I saw them, I was amazed by their diversity: 2 African Americans, 3 Latinos, an Asian guy and a white guy. Not a whole lot of bands like that. (A picture of Los Angeles up on a stage.) And their music reflects that diversity -- with a wide range of salsa, merengue, jazz, funk, rock, rap and hip-hop usually in various combinations within the same song. They even have a track or two where a sitar can be heard! And they’re fun!
(I used to imagine that God probably smiles down on this band, with all their cross-pollinating of sounds and rhythms...like when two people you always hoped would meet each other finally meet. You sit back and say, “Ah, I’ve been waiting for you to get together! I knew you’d get along famously!”)
I actually saw Ozomatli for the first time on my 21st birthday. And like you do, we had arrived to see the opening band. Then there’s an intermission while everyone excitedly waits for the main act. Suddenly the doors to the lobby, behind us, open up and I hear a faint chant and a bass drum beat. Then I see these guys in a procession line, drums, maracas, no microphones, just making their way through the crowd as they chant a recognizable cheer that’s easy to join in with. I’ve been to a lot of concerts, but I’d never seen a band come in through the same doors as we did, weaving their through the people, and then finally up onto the stage. The concert had begun among us. It built this momentum and excitement and energy, we felt part of the show. They were high-fiving audience members, everyone’s joining into their signature chant...and I later learned that this is how they would start every concert -- down with the people.
While I don’t imagine Jesus’ entrance in our Gospel story and our lives as quite as raucous a scene, sisters and brothers in Christ, the concert has begun among us. Jesus too gets down with the people; is baptized into our waters by John; enters our world the same way we do; but then blazes the trail of righteousness, leading us into the very realm of God -- inviting us to join in with him. Join in with something exciting and new, something diverse and barrier-shattering, join the path of the righteous. The inauguration of Jesus‘ earthly ministry begins here in Matthew’s Gospel, with his baptism in the Jordan river.
Theologian and scholar Dale Bruner puts it like this: “The first thing Jesus does for the human race is go down with it into the deep waters of repentance and baptism.”
Jesus is the reason that our simple baptismal waters become holy and life-altering. Jesus sanctifies our earthly waters. Jesus is the reason that I can fill our font with faucet water, and yet proclaim from that place the entire forgiveness of all our sins. And Jesus is the reason that when you get a few drops of baptismal water on you, you are reminded of God’s very claim on you and God’s new name for you too: Beloved. “Delight of God’s life” -- is how our reading today translates that word “beloved”. You are the “delight of God’s life”!
I wanted to tell you the story of Ozomatli entering through the crowd, getting down with the people this morning, but I did think about doing a one-line sermon today. I thought about what would be the impact if I got up here and just repeated for about 10 minutes. Over and over the same line: “You are God’s beloved child. You are God’s beloved child.” Just to let that sink in. Can you imagine? Maybe you’d get annoyed with me if I did that? Maybe you’d wonder why I hadn’t spent more time on my sermon...but it’s not about me. Jesus‘ baptism is about you, and God’s claim on you through Jesus Christ. And because of that you belong to God.
And in these waters there is repentance and forgiveness. John called for repentance...
This is the time of year for starting over -- the gyms are filled up, new healthier foods on our shelves at home. And usually people are pretty cynical about their efforts. “It won’t last,” they say. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying. That’s what our confession and forgiveness is all about week after week. God I’ve fallen short. Help me to live better, help me to live to your glory, we say from the font each Sunday.
Come with a repentant heart, John says. Jesus invites. Come confessing. If we don’t confess our brokenness, the error of our ways -- and sometimes pride can lead us down that. “I haven’t done anything wrong, or at least I’m not as bad as that other guy,” the Pharisees say. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us, but if we we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just will forgive our sins” and put us on the track of righteousness. God who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and join us to the band, to march, to the rhythm and the chant of the holy One, Jesus Christ -- who enters through the lobby (the same way we did). Who moves among us, who sings with us and encourages us and invites us to join in. Who forgives our sin, calls us a “delight”, and invites us to walk anew this day...this new year of life.
The concert has begun among us. AMEN.
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