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May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
Our text for this morning is the Gospel lesson and these two verses immediately following. As the people were in expectation, all were questioning in their hearts concerning John whether he might be the Christ. John answered them all, saying, “I baptize you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” This is our text. You may be seated.
Santa and reindeer. A green Grinch with a Santa hat. Snowmen. A snowman with a shotgun. Snowflakes. Elves. A pile of presents. Christmas ornaments hung from trees. These are just a few of the holiday scenes that I’ve seen around my neighborhood. Some are wooden cutouts. Some are made out of lights. Most of them are inflatables. In your own home, perhaps, you have set up your nativity scene, complete with the Holy Family, an angel or two, some shepherds and sheep, lowing cattle, maybe wise men bearing gifts. These are the images we would expect to see this time of year. They’re the images that come to mind when we’re preparing for Christmas. Maybe not the snowman with the shotgun.
But today… Into our sentimentality, into our holiday merrymaking, into our quiet reflection on the birth of our Savior, bursts John the Baptist. No cookies and hot chocolate, but locusts and honey. No snow-capped rooftops, but a wilderness near the Jordan. No jolly old Saint Nick, but a wild-looking prophet. And from the lips of this bug-eating baptizer, no salutation of season’s greetings, or Merry Christmas, or Happy Holidays. But instead, that most festive of holiday greetings, “You brood of vipers, who told you to flee from the wrath to come.”
It’s a jarring scene. It really doesn’t feel like Christmas, does it? But I think John’s words and his actions serve as a necessary corrective. A corrective first for our opinion of ourselves, and second as to what Christ’s coming really means and entails. For you see, it turns out it doesn’t matter how ready we are for Christmas, how many Christmas cards are written, how many gifts are wrapped, how many parties we’ve RSVP’d for, how many inflatables are in our yard; none of us is truly ready to receive Christ on our own.
To prepare, to really prepare, well that requires straightening out what is crooked, leveling the rough places. For Christ to enter, it would seem all must be right with us. No holy God would make his way into our crooked hearts, would he? The way must be prepared. We must be straightened out. We must repent. The voice of one crying in the wilderness is “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall become straight, and the rough places shall become level ways, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
And so here he is, the voice, the one crying in the wilderness, John the baptizer. He is not the one for whom we wait, but we wait for the one who is to come, the one who is greater than even John. John, the last of the Old Testament prophets, pointing people to the one who will save them from their sins. He is the preparer, the road straightener, the mountain flattener, the valley filler. But his message is accompanied by something else. Something else is happening out there in the wilderness.
Baptism. A baptism of repentance that, as John says, would later be superseded by a baptism of the Holy Spirit. The baptism that you and I received. It’s not too surprising, I suppose, that John would be doing something different, something new. After all, God was about to do something new. After all these years of speaking to his people through the prophets, he was now about to speak to us through his Son. That is very different. That is very new.
The Christ was coming into the world, born to Mary and Joseph, the birth for which we prepare, growing into manhood, and now John is preparing the people to hear the words direct from God himself, the words of God in the flesh. God made man, preparing them to see the salvation of God. That’s quite a scene.
What about for us? What does our own baptism have to do with any of this? With Christ’s coming, with Christ’s coming at Christmas, with Christ’s coming into our lives, with Christ’s coming again in glory? Well, that very Christ, God incarnate, he actually came into a world that, turns out, wasn’t all straightened out. He came to rough places that weren’t level, and he came to you. He came to you, and he plowed through the wilderness of your sin to dwell in you.
When? Now. That’s your baptism. We do not see baptism as a mere symbol. It’s not simply a rite of passage. It’s not the initiation into the church club. It’s a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. It’s a baptism of the Holy Spirit. It’s God’s baptism of water and word. It’s a washing of regeneration and renewal by the Holy Spirit.
How can water do such great things? It is certainly not the water that does such things, but God’s Word, which is in and with the water, and faith, which trusts the Word of God in the water. For without God’s Word, the water is just plain water and no baptism. But with this Word, it is baptism, a gracious water of life, a washing of rebirth by the Holy Spirit.
Perhaps you were baptized in a church. Perhaps this one. Perhaps you were baptized in a hospital. Maybe as an infant, maybe as a young child, maybe as an adult. Regardless, the promise that God makes to you in your baptism is the same. Baptism is very much about Advent, because it’s in your baptism that Jesus came to you. It’s in Jesus’ name, the babe of Bethlehem, the crucified, the risen one, that you were baptized. God came to you then. He called you by name. He made you His. He clothed you with Christ’s righteousness.
St. Peter says, “Baptism now saves you.” In baptism, you were united with the death of Christ so that you will be united with him and his resurrection. Your baptism isn’t just a past event. It defines who you are now. That is why when ridden by guilt, Luther would tell Satan not, “I was baptized,” but “I am baptized.” And when you die, in death, the promise of your baptism is fully realized. There in the presence of God, you will stand for eternity in Christ’s white robe of righteousness. There, sin will no longer cling to you. Everything rough will be made plain. Everything crooked will be straight. And even as you see the salvation of God now in his body and blood, then you will see with your eyes.
And when you are raised from the dead, you will stand before God, and in your flesh you shall see him. Baptism has prepared us. It stands now against the accusations of Satan, and it causes you to stand for eternity in the presence of your God.
And so the lives that we now live, perhaps you, like the people in our text, ask, “What do we do?” Share with the one who doesn’t have enough? Go about your daily tasks in service to others, fulfilling all the vocations God has given you? Be content with what God has given you. Help others to see that God seeks to enter into their lives as well. At Christmas, in baptism, forever.
So this Advent, as you’re setting up your nativity scene, as you see things while you’re driving around, think about this scene in the wilderness. Think about John the Baptist baptizing and truly preparing the people for the coming of the Savior. And then consider your own baptism. When Christ came to you. And during those times when maybe you’re not feeling the Christmas spirit, when the cares of this life or the busyness of the season have you frazzled and maybe even dejected, remember that Christ’s coming into the world that first Christmas was for you. And his advent into your life has already happened at your baptism.
And declare boldly, “I am baptized in the name of Jesus.” Amen.
And the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
