The Story - Chapter 23 - Jesus' Ministry Begins

I can’t begin to tell you how much it pains me to show you this picture…..

 

Ross has always looked more like the Brown side of the family and given that Rhona’s brother Graham’s about six feet tall, there was always a good chance Ross was going to end up taller than me, but seeing the actual photographic evidence for yourself still comes a bit of a kick in the teeth!

 

Kids grow – that’s what they do. And we’ve no reason to suppose that it was any different for the one who was both Mary’s son and God’s son.

 

Artists and iconographers in the middle ages were fond of representing Jesus as other worldly. Even as a pudgy baby, he’s often portrayed as sitting upright in Mary’s arms, hand raised in blessing as though he came out of the womb fully functioning and ready to hold court. And with the best will in the world, some of our Christmas Carols perpetuate that other-wordly image. Little Lord Jesus no crying he makes? Who are you kidding? 

 

I said last week that part of Jesus’ uniqueness was that he was fully divine and fully human at the same time, and for millennia theologians have tried to work out just what that means, resulting in many conversations of the how-many-angels-can-dance-on-the-head-of-a-pin variety.

 

But on this, mainstream theology seems clear: for the incarnation to have been meaningful, Jesus has to have entered into human experience for real: otherwise how could he have identified with us? How could we have identified with him?  If he didn’t have to grow, and learn; if he didn’t skin his knees when he fell; if he didn’t feel love and heartache and joy and frustration at times, would he really have been human?

 

However divinity and humanity came together in Christ, the evidence in the bible suggests that there were no short cuts for Jesus in growing into his own skin. He had to make the same journey of faith and self-discovery that every one of us has to make.

 

Last week’s chapter of the Story ended with the famous incident where the 12 year old Jesus forgets to return home with his family after Passover because he’s having a great time debating with the rabbis who were teaching in the temple courts. And that little section ends with this phrase – “And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and men”.

 

There you have it. Jesus grew. Mentally, physically, and we’ve no reason to doubt, spiritually as well. There are no shortcuts to human maturity – not even for the Son of God. He learned; from experience, from observation, from reading, from prayer, from conversation just as you and I do. In that sense he was every bit as ordinary as we are.

 

And maybe that’s why we hear so little about his life between birth and the age of 30 or so. Because all that was going on – to the best of our knowledge – was the ordinary stuff of life and work, worship and maturing.  He’ll have been growing into a sense of his particular calling during that time, I don’t doubt. Particular passages of Scripture, lessons in the synagogue and sessions in prayer will have impacted on him. But during those same years he was also an oldest son caring for his mother - presumably widowed, because we don’t hear of Joseph again after the birth narratives. Did Jesus keep working to support Mary and the younger ones? Did he keep going until some of his other siblings were able to put bread on the table?

 

Doesn’t sound very spiritual, maybe.  But as a wee aside, isn’t it the case that our family life’s often the place where our faith is most stretched and tried? In the melee of working things out, dealing with disagreements, making plans and keeping hope and love aflame? Here’s a different perspective on your family. Maybe they’re the people God’s put in place around you to help you grow, in Christ? There’s no better school for faith than living cheek by jowl with other people who know you as you really are.

 

Jesus knew those challenges. But at the age of 30, he decided it was time to rise to another challenge – he wasn’t just the son of Mary. He was the son of God, and there was work for him to do.

 

And again, it’s worth pausing to wonder if his work was all mapped out for him right from the start. I’m not sure that it was. Though from quite early on, Jesus seems to have known that his ministry is going to lead to his death, and that somehow – in the economy of God – even that is part of the plan, the working out of that plan often involved him taking the next small step of faith. And todays chapter in the story begins with two of those small steps. His baptism, and his retreat  in the wilderness. These, together, helped set the trajectory for all that was to come.

 

Cousin John is doing a roaring trade down by the Jordan. Institutional religion isn’t working. People want something more; something that connects with their hearts and their emotions rather than empty routine that sacrifice in the temple has become. So they go out to see John in their droves, and confessing their sins, they’re baptised by him in the River Jordan.

 

I love that wee line about confessing their sins. You’d easily miss it. It makes me wonder how they confessed and to whom. Knowing what we know of John, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a whisper or two in his ear in some confessional corner. If I were a betting man I’d guess he got them to own up to their sins out loud before he dunked them under the water. A real, public repentance, ending with a real, public demonstration of God’s forgiveness as they were washed clean in the waters of baptism. Powerful stuff.

 

And into this maelstrom comes Jesus, asking John to baptise him also.

 

How well did they know one another, I wonder? Had they played together as cousins when they were little? Did John’s mother, Elizabeth, tell him about the time that Mary came to see her with Jesus already growing inside her, and John had leapt in her womb at the sound of Mary’s voice, as if he already knew whom she were carrying?

 

John certainly knows enough to understand that he’s not the focus in all of this – he’s just preparing the way. And here, before him, is the one he’s been preparing for, asking to be baptised like everyone else.

 

Small wonder John’s confused .Why would the Son of God need to undergo a baptism for the forgiveness of sins?

 

The Scriptures are clear that Jesus was tempted in every way we are—yet was without sin. So why would he need baptism?

 

Well, for two reasons.

 

To set an example. In submitting to baptism, Jesus was giving his ‘yes’ to what John was trying to do. He was saying ‘This matters. This is good. It’s good to get serious with God’.

 

But he was also doing something more profound than setting an example for us to follow. He was standing alongside us, and identifying with us in our sins.

 

Israel had learned that holiness keeps its distance from the sinful for fear of contamination. Christ brought a new message – that holiness draws alongside the sinful so that God’s goodness might make them new.

 

And that’s a pattern we see again and again in Jesus life. “Why does your master hang around with drunks and prostitutes” the Pharisees asked the disciples. “Why does he like the company of tax collectors and sinners so much?”

 

And at the end of his life, the same men would gather round the cross and say ‘why don’t you come down? You saved others, why not save yourself?’

 

The answer? Jesus stayed there because the cross was his ultimate act of identification with humanity, and he earned our salvation though the great transaction that took place there.

 

As Paul was to put it thirty years later – “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

 

“I need to be baptised by you” said John. “And do you come to me?”

“Let it be so now” said Jesus. “it’s proper for us to do this to fulfil all righteousness.”

 

And so John consents. And as Jesus went up out of the water, the Spirit descends on him and a voice is heard saying “This is my Son, whom I love, with him I am well pleased.”

 

And with scarcely a pause for breath, this beloved son is sent out into the desert to fast and to be tempted by the devil. Don’t ever kid yourself that God’s favour is the ticket to a trouble free life.

 

Now here’s the thing – last week I tried to highlight how in the story of Jesus birth there were parallels with the story of creation. John deliberately echoes Genesis 1 when he starts his gospel – “In the beginning was the word”.

 

Here, in the Lenten wilderness, there’s another Genesis echo. When was the last time we read a narrative of someone being tempted by the devil? In Genesis. How did things go? Not very well.

 

The tempter proved to be a master at sowing doubt in the minds of Adam and Eve, twisting words, making false promises. And nothing’s changed since Eden.. But this time he’s meeting a stronger adversary.  A new Adam, sent to make good the mistakes of the old one.

 

And it’s 40 days in, when Jesus’ human resources were at their lowest ebb, that the tempter draws alongside and begins whispering in his ear.

 

“If you are God’s son, order these stones to become bread” he says.

 

It’s the classic tactics. Sow doubt; question God’s intentions; suggest attractive alternatives.

 

It’s as though he’s saying “Why should you be hungry? Your hunger isn’t sinful or wrong. It’s a natural appetite. You have these powers, don’t you? Why don’t you use them?”

 

And the answer, of course, is that Jesus is fasting for a reason. To practice the discipline of submitting his will to God’s will. He’s committed himself to fast. Will he now break that commitment simply because he’s hungry? If he falls at this hurdle, how on earth will he cope with what lies ahead?

 

We might well wonder whether he’d have been able to face the trials of Gethsemane if he’d fallen at this point.

 

But he stands firm. “People can’t live on bread alone, but need every word that God speaks”. In other words, I didn’t come here to eat. I came here to listen for God’s voice through my hunger.

 

And here’s the lesson for you and me. The tempter can take a quite legitimate need and with some subtle slight of hand make it something that leads us off the path of wisdom.

 

The tired man on a business trip; at his weakest after a long day of travel and meetings. How attractive that woman in the bar seems; how magnetic the pull towards the pay to view video channels.

 

The tired wife; frustrated with the endless rounds of work and children and domesticity. How attractive the man who seems to notice her as a woman again; who pays her compliments and notices when she changes her hairstyle or wear new clothes.

 

The lonely person, needing company and conversation, but tempted, with certain people, to join in with the gossip

 

The person struggling to make a business work, who could so easily line his or her pockets with a little bit of shady dealing.

 

Legitimate needs, all of them. The problems arise when we try to meet those needs in the wrong way. That’s when we stray into sin.

 

But the enemy doesn’t just prey on our needs when he’s trying to lead us astray. He can make good use of our strengths too.

 

Whether in reality or in a vision, the tempter takes Jesus to the highest point of the temple and suggests – using Scripture as his backing – that Jesus throw himself off and allow God to rescue him.

 

Use your status! He’s saying. Amaze them! Wow these people into believing! You’ve got all this power, why not use it?

 

Jesus answer? No. Whatever powers I have access to aren’t mine to use as I please. I’m called to serve God’s purposes, not my own.

 

Once again, there’s something for us in that. How often we’re tempted to rely on our strengths and use them in wrong ways, forgetting that they’re given to us for the benefit of all and not just ourselves.

 

The beautiful woman or attractive man who uses their allure to manipulate others into giving them what they want.

 

The capable person who sees that things get done, but gets irritable and controlling if others don’t do things their way.

 

The powerful person who’s more worried about how to get to the next rung of the ladder than who they stand on on the way up.

 

The temptation to make an idol of our strengths is something that many of us need to beware.

 

But if we manage to resist that temptation, the enemy has one last arrow in his quiver.

 

What Jesus faces in his last temptation is an outright assault on his senses. All pretence is gone. None of this ‘If you are the son of God’ stuff – the devil knows fine well who he is and his other strategies haven’t worked. So he takes him to a mountain from which, figuratively, he can see all the kingdoms of the world.

 

“This is what you want. says the devil. This is what you came here for. I can give it to you. All of this can be yours. All you have to do is bow down and worship me and I can give you your heart’s desire”

 

When all else fails, the tempter goes for the jugular. He promises to give us all that we desire, but only if we compromise.

 

How disastrous for Christ if he had agreed to that. It would have been like Churchill calling Hitler on the phone and agreeing terms of surrender. A superficial peace could have been achieved for our islands, and Lord knows after years of war the people were longing for a resolution. But at what cost would that peace have been gained? The enemy would have won.

 

How many folk in our community are unknowingly going about the work of selling their souls in order to get what they want? They sell them to the companies they work for; they trade time at home for time in the office; they shackle themselves to a huge mortgage they have to work themselves into the ground to repay.

 

And what for? The bigger house, the flashier car, the more exotic holidays? But at what cost? No time for family. No time for community. No time for God.

 

What does it profit a man, Jesus asks, if he gains the whole world, but loses his soul?

 

Christ knows that the answer to that question is ‘nothing’, It profits him nothing.

 

And so he says “Get away from me, Satan. The scripture says “Worship the Lord your God and serve him only”.

 

And with that, the devil leaves him ‘til an opportune time; realising this second Adam won’t be the pushover that the first one was.

 

Years of prayer and practice have helped Mary’s boy grow into the man he was destined to become - strong, resolute, wise. Ready for all the challenges that lie ahead.

 

May our times, spent in God’s company, do the same for us.