Insights
Rev Gav
Why was Jesus’ baptism a subversive political act?
Matthew Matthew 3.13-17
Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptised by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptised 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 fulfil all righteousness.” Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptised, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw God’s Spirit descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from the heavens said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."
Reflect
Within most main-stream denominations, baptism is what we call a sacrament — something we do through which God confers or ministers to us grace. In other words, something spiritual is going on! Other sacraments include, for example, communion, marriage, and ordination, and what is considered a sacrament depends on your denomination; however, baptism and communion are the two that most agree are times and places where we participate in a ritual, God shows up, and something spiritual happens.
But… have you considered that baptism (and communion for that matter) are deeply subversive political acts?
As always, with scripture, context matters, and the context for the beginning of Jesus’ ministry was the Cult of Caesar. Allegiance to Caesar in the Roman Empire was pledged through actions such as swearing an oath of loyalty (called a sacramentum) and acknowledging Caesar as ‘Lord’. The symbol of the Roman Empire was an eagle, and the roman emperors Augustus, Tiberius, Nero, and Domitian were all given the title ‘Divi Filius’ (son of a god). You can see where we’re going with this!
Being baptised was a sign of pledging allegiance, not to Caesar but to God, and when you think about it, it makes sense that Jesus came for ceremonial baptism (a religious sacramentum) because he too was standing with the ordinary people — the vulnerable, the marginalised, and the oppressed — and making a bold political statement that God was ‘Lord’ and not Caesar.
Two miraculous things happened at Jesus’ baptism. The first was that the Holy Spirit descended on him like a pigeon. Now, forget all those pictures of pure white doves alighting on Jesus — they look great painted on chapel ceilings and in stained glass windows, but the word used is pigeon or dove, and doves had no special place in the hearts of those in first century Palestine. People didn’t release pure white doves from baskets at wedding ceremonies! No, pigeons were common birds — scavengers, even. If the symbol of the Roman Empire was an eagle, we must comprehend the symbolism of the Holy Spirit descending as a pigeon. God, through Christ, was identifying with ordinary human beings, and it was again, a sign of allegiance in direct contrast and resistance to Caesar.
Note, our Bible translators could have chosen to use the word pigeon or dove, but given our cultural aversion to dirty pigeons and our embracing of the purity of doves, which would you have chosen?
Then there were the words, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Not, “Caesar is my Son” but Jesus. Jesus was bestowed the same title as Caesar — not as ‘son of a god’ but as the ‘son of the God’. In one sentence, God speaks a truth, and one that is politically loaded.
Matthew could not be painting a clearer picture with his depiction of the baptism of Jesus. The ceremonial washing as a pledge of allegiance, the Spirit descending as a pigeon and not an eagle, and the words bestowing the title, ‘Son of God’ all add up to a deeply subversive political act, and at its heart is a God coming to us in person, identifying with us, and inviting us to live a different way, one that is counter-cultural and that leads away from earthy powers.
It seems that for many of us in the west, including my family in the United States (my sister and her family are all US citizens), we are having to choose between pledging our allegiance to political world powers or to God through Jesus Christ.
This week, as we are soon to be travelling to New Zealand for two months we had to apply for our ESTAs (Electronic System for Travel Authorisation) to transit through the United States. As a requirement you have to provide all links to your social media accounts over the past five years, where they may be flagged (presumably by AI) for anything that is anti-American or anti-Trump. Several UK citizens have had their ESTAs denied because they had made public posts that were critical of US policy or its president. What would you do? Leave your posts and comments up (or refuse to add your social media links to your ESTA) thus risking transit through the USA, or remove your comments and compromise your principles?
For others, the confrontation is far more real. At a candlelit vigil for Renee Good, the woman recently killed by an ICE agent, Rob Hirschfield, Bishop of New Hampshire said this,
“I have told the clergy of the episcopal diocese of New Hampshire that we may be entering into that same witness. And I’ve asked them to get their affairs in order, to make sure they have their wills written, because it may be that now is no longer the time for statements, but for us, with our bodies, to stand between the powers of this world and the most vulnerable.”
When you became a Christian, you pledged allegiance not to the powers of this world but to God. The Cult of Caesar is very much alive, and there may come a time when you and I have to make a choice; however, marginalisation and oppression of the vulnerable is not only on a world stage, but can be much closer to home.
The example that comes immediately to mind is the accessibility of our public spaces including our worship venues and church buildings. We tend to cater for the majority and ignore the needs of minorities but the Christian should be mindful that, under God’s sovereignty, the least are called the greatest! For example, is your space accessible to those in wheelchairs — the entrance way, the restrooms, and is there a comfortable (not necessarily right at the front) place for them to sit? Are the words and liturgy accessible to those with visual impairments? Are they using language suitable for those with learning difficulties? And so on.
Standing with and aligning ourselves with the vulnerable, the marginalised, and the dis-abled begins at home. Not all of us can stand up to the power of mega-organisations or dictators, but we can do something for those in our localities or those in the online networks to which we belong. To do so is to be counter-cultural and confront a different kind of power cult and that is the cult of prejudice and exclusion.
Today, as we enter a new week, may we be the people God has called us to be. In the same way that Jesus aligned himself with us, let us allow the Holy Spirit to descend on us, and hear Christ’s voice calling us God’s children.
This day and forever.
Amen.
Pray
Holy God
I pledge my allegiance
to you alone,
and choose to call
your Son, Jesus Christ
my 'Saviour and my Liege'.
Help me to stand
with the most vulnerable,
marginalised, and oppressed,
and to proclaim boldly
and bear witness to
a different way of living.
This day and forever.
and then