Baptized for Justice

The First United Presbyterian Church

“Baptized for Justice”

Rev. Amy Morgan

January 12, 2020

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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.

 2 He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street;

 3 a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.

 4 He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his teaching.

 5 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:

 6 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,

 7 to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.

 8 I am the LORD, that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to idols.

 9 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

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him.

 14 John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?"

 15 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.

 16 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.

 17 And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

Amnesty International. Charity : Water. UNICEF. Doctors Without Borders. All these organizations work for justice. And none of these organizations are affiliated with a particular faith tradition. None of them were created to help followers of any religion fulfill their calling.

These organizations work alongside non-profits such as Habitat for Humanity, the Salvation Army, Compassion International, Lifewater International, and our own Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and Presbyterian Mission Agency. All these non-profits, along with more than 84,000 others listed on the charity database Guidestar, are Christian-based non-profits. They exist because people of Christian faith, followers of Jesus Christ, felt compelled to work for justice in the world because of their religious convictions.

But in the end, what’s the difference? Does the person accessing clean water or being liberated from modern-day slavery or obtaining housing or medical care really care if the people helping them are Christian or not? Does the quality of the service differ in any noticeable way? Are the people who volunteer or give money any more compassionate, caring, or kind because they are Christian? Are the people who run Christian organizations any more committed to their cause than those operating secular non-profits?

While many Christian non-profits have a component of evangelism included in their outreach and service, the actual services delivered are more or less the same. People are fed, prisoners are freed. Aid is delivered and poverty battled. All these organizations, secular or Christian, work for justice in the world.

The Church no longer has the corner market on justice that we once did. In the book, Not Your Parents’ Offering Plate, J. Cliff Christopher writes that “In America today, there are over 1.1 million nonprofit organizations, and almost all are 501(c)(3)s. There are about 370,000 churches. Just twenty years ago, in 1995, there were 500,000 active 501(c)(3)s and about 370,000 churches. What these numbers show is that in twenty years the competition has nearly doubled. Each year finds the number of nonprofits in America growing.” In the 5 years since this book was published, the non-profit sector has continued to grow at a rate of about 20% while church growth has been stagnant by the most optimistic assessments.

What this adds up to is that religion, and specifically Christianity, is increasingly irrelevant to the pursuit of justice in the world. And so, many people wonder, and reasonably so, what would happen if you just took God out of the equation? Does it really matter if your motivation for healing the sick, visiting the lonely, or liberating the oppressed is that you are a follower of Jesus Christ? And even amongst us Christians, is that really our motivation? Are we all just working for justice because we’re good people, because this is pro-social, because it makes us feel good to help others? Should we just leave the justice work to secular non-profits and focus on churchy stuff like worship and potlucks and committee meetings? Because churches do still have the corner market on those activities.

Once a year, we are reminded of why we can’t do that. Once a year, we remember why we, as Christians, keep working for justice, even if there are many other, bigger, better-funded non-profits doing the exact same thing. Once a year, we restore our conviction that we are compelled, as followers of Jesus Christ, not just to pursue justice, but to do so in a particular and unique way. Once a year, we recognize that we cannot take God out of the justice equation.

Because once, every year, we hear the story of Jesus’ baptism, and we remember our baptism.

Just before Jesus goes into the wilderness for 40 days, just before that formative experience that catapults him into his earthly ministry, Jesus comes to meet his cousin, John, at the Jordan River. The same river Jesus’ ancestors crossed to enter the Promised Land. The same river the prophets Elijah and Elisha crossed at pivotal moments in their lives and ministries. In those crossings, the river was held back so that people could cross over on dry land. But Jesus comes not to repel the water but to give himself into it.

Jesus comes, fully human and fully God, sinless and holy, and submits to immersion in the water that gives life to all creation and brings death to sin. This is what Jesus will continue to do for the rest of his life. Make himself vulnerable to forces that are his to command so that he can bring life to all creation and death to all that separates us from God and from one another. This is not an act of repentance, but an act of righteousness, of restoring right relationship.

When John objects to baptizing Jesus, feeling it would be much more appropriate for the sandal to be on the other foot, as it were, Jesus argues that in the particularity of this time and this place this is the way to “fulfill all righteousness.” This will affect right relationship and right living, not just for Jesus personally, not just for the Jewish people from whom he is descended, but this is righteousness on a cosmic, holistic scale.

Many of us would much rather talk about justice than righteousness. Righteousness is something those holier-than-thou Christians talk about, Christians who don’t swear, or have tattoos; Christians who are so focused on their personal purification and perfection that they step over the orphans and widows crying in the streets to get to their mid-week Bible studies. If that’s our picture of righteousness, we don’t want to have much to do with it.

But that is not scripture’s picture of righteousness. In the Hebrew scriptures, righteousness is the precursor and vehicle for justice. It is living in covenant community, right relationship, with God, humanity, and the creation. The commandments and laws of God are all in service, not to personal piety and purity, but to the establishment of God’s justice on earth.

And this all begins, not with our commitment, our will, our goodness, or even our surrender. It begins with God’s claim on our lives. It begins when God says, “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon them; they will bring forth justice to the nations.” It begins when God says, “This is my Son, my Daughter, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased." It begins with God claiming us as God’s own and delighting in us. It begins with our baptism, which our liturgy says, joins us to “Christ’s ministry of love, peace, and justice.”

God’s love and delight is the righteousness, the right relationship, that brings forth justice. When we are loved with exuberant delight, that love overflows our bounds, we cannot contain it. That love compels us to see how each and every person, creature, and creation is loved by God. And that love compels us to see where those bonds of love are broken by injustice. And so our work for justice cannot be separated from God’s love for us.

Out of that identity in Christ, that identity as God’s beloved, we faithfully bring forth justice. The prophet Isaiah describes what this looks like for us: 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… 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.

As he traveled the pilgrim route of the Via Francigena, author Timothy Egan mused on the bloodshed Christians have been responsible for over the centuries. “No sooner had the kingdoms [of Europe] converted to a God known as the Prince of Peace,” he writes, “than they took up nearly nonstop war for a thousand years. Most of the bloodletting was blessed. The biblical Jesus who never lifted a hand in violence was unrecognizable among the armies who murdered thousands while summoning his name.”

This is not the justice for which we were baptized. God’s justice is brought about with humility, tenderness, and care. It is brought about with vulnerability. In our belovedness, we are given as a gift to the world, an example that will provide insight to those who are blind to God’s love for them, which will free those who sit in the darkness of oppressive systems.

This is not accomplished with swords and bombs and all the mechanisms of death humanity has devised. The justice for which we were baptized does not scream and shout, does not break a bruised reed or quench a dimly burning wick. It is not survival of the fittest. It is not dog-eat-dog. It is the opposite of evolutionary. And though it may be difficult to recognize in today’s world or throughout much of our history, there have been many followers of Jesus who have remembered their baptismal vow to “renounce all evil, and powers in the world which defy God’s righteousness and love.”

There is the usual laundry list of saints and martyrs – Francis and King, Romero and Sojourner Truth. But behind these famous examples are thousands upon thousands, millions even, of anonymous faithful who have brought forth justice in a way that reflects their baptismal identity. “Do not be deceived,” writes the Apostle Paul, “God is not mocked, for you reap whatever you sow.”

Without God in the equation, working for justice still adds up to many good things. Goodness and decency. Humanity. The common good. Ethical behavior. Evolutionary progress.

But for Christians, that is not enough.

Our justice work may look the same as anyone else’s. But it is not the same. It should not be the same. The way we work for justice in the world, because of our baptismal identity, should be different.

Because our work begins and ends with the love of God in Jesus Christ. It begins and ends with our baptism into Christ, with being grafted into the covenant community, the Body of Christ, the family of God. And it cannot be otherwise for us. For those of us who have “clothed ourselves with Christ,” God is not a part of the equation. God is the equation. God’s love in Jesus Christ equals God’s love for us equals our love for God, for one another, and for the whole creation. This is the only way it adds up for us.

To God be all glory forever and ever. Amen.