Beginning with Who We Are -- Matthew 3:13-17 (1st Sunday After Epiphany)

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In this morning’s Scripture, Jesus makes his first appearance in the Gospel of Matthew.^[1] Now, we are well into chapter 3, so I had to double-check that. Jesus’ birth is announced in chapter 2, and then he’s carried as an infant into Egypt by his parents. But in terms of being a full adult character in his own story, Jesus makes his first appearance in this morning’s Scripture, standing in the waters of baptism. Up until this point – other adults have been moving the action forward, bringing Jesus (and us) to this moment.

So I was intrigued by one writer’s invitation – before we enter into this story – to think for a moment of all the people who got Jesus here.^[2] The Gospel of Matthew begins with a genealogy – a list of begats. Abraham begat Isaac; Isaac begat Jacob (not to mention Sarah, Rebekkah, and Leah). It’s a listing of Jesus’ ancestors, generation by generation – Judah, Rahab, Ruth, Boaz, King David, Bathsheba, some other kings, all the way down to Joseph.

You read the list, and you realize it’s not just a list of these individuals, it’s the history of a people.  It is a people who begin life as refugees, settling in a strange land; it is a people taken into slavery, and brought out into freedom; it’s a people trying to live a faithful life, getting it wrong as often as not, corrected again and again by the prophets; it’s a people taken into exile, and in the next generation, brought back home.

All of them, everyone, all of this has brought Jesus to this moment.

And there are Jospeh and Mary – Joseph, gracious enough to see and embody a righteousness “exceedingly good and exceedingly generous.”^[3] Mary, courageous enough to envision bringing down the powers and lifting up the lowly.

There are the Magi – we travelled with them last week – strangers from a strange land, who are smart enough to outfox a petty tyrant. They help save the child from Herod’s murderous rage.

And then just before this morning’s Scripture, there’s John the Baptist. He’s there before Jesus comes on the scene – this wild prophet, preaching and baptizing in the wilderness – calling the powers and the people to repent – proclaiming the reign of God – saying “there is one coming who is more powerful than I.”

All of this, brings Jesus to this moment.

And there Jesus is – the culmination of all this humanity – standing there in the fullness of humanity.

(Have you ever thought of all the people who have brought you to this moment? Who envisioned a life and a future... for you?)

So here we are, in chapter 3. It’s a simple scene. Jesus and John standing knee-deep in the waters of baptism. Another gospel says that they may be cousins, but in Matthew, this may be John’s first experience of Jesus.^[4] In the moments that unfold, I wonder what we might learn along with John.

(STOP)

That’s as far as I had gotten in the sermon Friday afternoon. I had written the homily for our celebration of Roger Poore’s life, and now, I was writing away on the sermon. I hit save, took a breath, got up to make some tea. I picked up my phone, and I saw that another video had been released of the ICE killing of Renee Nicole Good. And I watched it. And then I watched it again.

What I saw was a young woman sitting in her car, saying “That’s fine, dude, I’m not mad at you.” It looked like she was sitting there in her car, with other cars. We know now that this video was taken by the ICE agent who killed her, and there was a bigger conversation going on. Her wife was giving the ICE agent a piece of her mind. Renee Nicole Good backs up, turns the wheel, and starts to pull away, and the ICE agent fires three shots into the car and kills her. And after he has shot her, calls her a F-ing B. Her car accelerates and crashes into several other cars. And her wife screams. I know what I saw.

I watched the video again, mainly to hear again what Renee Nicole Good had said... “... Dude, I’m not mad at you” – just before she was shot, it appears, saying that, to the man who would kill her.

I put down my phone. And came back to my laptop, because I have a job that requires me to preach a sermon most every Sunday – and to try and make sense of what is often incomprehensible.

When sat back down, I picked up this Scripture again, and with a new look, here’s what I saw. (You know, we read these Scriptures – bits and pieces at a time – we read any one story knowing the whole story, knowing the trajectory, knowing what happens next.) In this morning’s text, here are these two young men, John the Baptist and Jesus standing knee-deep in the waters of baptism. And it dawned on me.

Their world is full of violence too. Both of them – both these young men – have survived a genocide. Herod sent out his security forces to kill male infants born in a two-year range. Joseph and Mary took Jesus to another country; someone must have protected John.

And, even so, after this moment,

John the Baptist will be beheaded by another Herod.

And, Jesus will be crucified.

This is what Herods do. This is what the powers do. This is what our Black friends have been telling us that our nation does. Michael Brown. George Floyd. Breonna Taylor. So many more.

And it occurred to me: The Gospel of Matthew begins with a genocide; has a beheading in the middle; and its penultimate scene is a crucifixion.

In this Scripture, the world of Herod is raging all around.

But something different is coming to life in these waters of baptism.

And so I want us to enter into this story, not just as folks sitting in our pews on a quiet Sunday morning, but as folks standing on the shore until now, who kick off our shoes, roll up our pants legs, wade into those waters to get a closer look – to see what is happening here, as if lives depend upon it.

There they are – these two young men – standing knee-deep in the waters of baptism. Jesus says to John: “I want you to baptize me.”

John balks. John, the wild prophet, knows that Jesus is “one more powerful than I.” John knows what it is to live in a world of hierarchy. The one with lesser power would never baptize the one with more. That’s how their world works. Scripture says, “and John would have prevented him”... imagine that.. John would have prevented Jesus from being baptized.  

But Jesus says, “Let it be so now...” Those words of creation – “Let there be light” –  “Let it be” – let go of that sense of hierarchy and separation. “Let it be so now.”

“It is right and proper for us to do this.” Notice the us. Jesus says to John. Let us to do this together. That world of hierarchy no longer controls. In its place – in this moment, what comes to life is this relationship – of mutuality and solidarity.^[5]

“It is right and proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” Remember what we said about righteousness – we are thinking of righteousness as aligning ourselves with God’s loving will for the world.^[6]

The fullness of humanity – in this moment – aligned with God in mutuality and solidarity.

John baptizes Jesus, and as Jesus comes up out of the water. The heavens open – there is no longer any separation between humanity and God – and this voice says, for anyone who will listen, “This is my Son – my beloved – in whom I am well-pleased.”

This Epiphany, we are talking about how we learn by living. What do we learn here? With John? Well, clearly we learn something about who Jesus is, Son of Humanity, Son of God, Beloved of God. And, we learn something about who we are – as we stand there with John, knee deep in the waters of baptism,

·      We see ourselves connected with all humanity – remember that genealogy – all those who have brought Jesus, John, and us into this moment. We see not only the fullness of humanity, really –  but of all creation – the heavens opening up to the Earth – the fullness of humanity connected with every bit of what God has made and what God loves.

·      In this moment, we see the fullness of that humanity lived out – not in violence and power-over and separation – but in Jesus and John fulfilling all righteousness together in a humanity that embraces mutuality and solidarity – power-with and power-for.

·      We see the fullness of our humanity, filled with God’s own Spirit – filled with and embodying God’s good and gracious and loving will for the world.

·      And then, we hear the word “Beloved” – every bit of humanity “beloved.”

We know how Herod’s world works. Then and now. Herod’s world works to separate us one from another – Roman from Jew, mighty from lowly, rich from poor, nation from nation, citizen from immigrant, government enforcer from young woman sitting in her car. Herod’s world works to separate us one from one another. And Herod’s world uses threats, intimidation, violence, and lies to accomplish that. We know how Herod’s world works. Then and now.

What we see here – standing knee deep in the waters of baptism – is not that. What we learn here is that our humanity in Jesus Christ is more expansive than that, more full of love, and grace, and life.

Jesus says to John – remember, who wants to prevent this moment – Let this be so now. It is right and fitting for us – for you and me together – to fulfill all righteousness – to live out God’s good and gracious will for the world.

When we stand in the midst of the bewildering chaos of Herod’s world and wonder what we can do. We begin by grounding ourselves in our humanity – in the humanity that we have and share in Jesus Christ. We begin by remembering who we are. We see ourselves as connected to each other and all creation. We see each other as beloved children of God. And filled with the Spirit, we then live that out in our humanity – in lives that reflect mutuality, sharing, solidarity, justice, and love – we embody humanity.

So let me say this: When we are living authentically and courageously as the Body of Christ, everything we do is resistance – everything we do is resistance to the world of Herod. The very existence of the Body of Christ is God’s “No!” to the powers and systems that work their violence to harm, and to kill, and to keep us separate and apart. So, when we leave here, some of us will head out to the protests. Some of us will gather for a Sunday seminar on how we use our resources here to support the good work of this Church – knowing that this is an essential part of helping feed the hungry, sheltering those in peril, and living out Christ’s justice and tender mercy. Some of us will head to the hospital to visit someone who has come to depend on our love and care.

Every bit of that is living out the humanity that we find standing knee deep in the waters of baptism.

In this bewildering world, we work so hard to make meaning of that which can feel incomprehensible, and to figure out what we can do. “Doing flows from being.” (I read that this week – that carries a lot of truth.) “Doing flows from being.” As We Learn by Living, we begin by knowing who we are – who we are in Jesus Christ – each and all – interconnected, beloved, together – living out – in the fullness of our humanity – steadily and courageously – God’s good and loving will for this world.

© 2026 Scott Clark

^[1] For general background on this text and the Gospel of Matthew, see M. Eugene Boring, “The Gospel of Matthew,”  New Interpreters’ Bible Commentary, vol. viii (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1995), pp.134-37; Mark Abbott, Commentary in Connections, Year A, vol. 2 (Louisville, KY; Westminster John Knox Press, 2019), pp.175-77; Stanley P. Saunders, Commentary in Connections, Year A, vol. 2 (Louisville, KY; Westminster John Knox Press, 2019), pp.173-75, 157-59; Herman C. Waetjen, Matthew’s Theology of Fulfillment, Its Universality and It’s Ethnicity (London, UK: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2017).

^[2] See Karri Alldredge, Commentary on Working Preacher at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/baptism-of-our-lord/commentary-on-matthew-313-17-7

^[3] See https://www.togetherweserve.org/post/a-longing-for-human-decency-matthew-1-18-25-4th-sunday-of-advent

^[4] See Waetjen, pp.44-45.

^[5] See also Waetjen, p.45 (describing the “us” as Jesus’ self-identification with humanity)

^[6]  See https://www.togetherweserve.org/post/a-longing-for-human-decency-matthew-1-18-25-4th-sunday-of-advent ; cf. Boring, p.160.