The Baptism of our Lord
Isaiah 42.1-9
Psalm 29
Acts 10.34-43
Matthew 3.13-17
Sunday 11 January 2026
©Suzanne Grimmett
If this well-known story should teach us anything, it should be to stay awake, keep watch and be ready. You never know when God may turn up amongst a bunch of ordinary sinners and the heavens might open.
These moments are what I described on New Year’s Eve as kairos moments- different from the chronological creep of time where there is a predictability in the way the world runs and the power and money that determine its course. This moment by the Jordan is one of these moments where the impossible happens and the heavens are aligned with earth. This time there was no star to shine upon the coming of Christ as he approached the river, but there was a man whose gift was to alert the world to the appearance of divinity and call on humanity to respond. John the Baptist, the one about whom Jesus would say, ‘there has arisen none born of woman who are greater’ (Matt 11:11), is defined by this moment of recognition at the Jordan. The wild man in the desert had amassed his own following, but this moment begins the great vocation of his life to point the way to another. And he does not miss it. Whether it was his life of simplicity and devotion to prayer, or his familiarity with Jesus himself, when the request comes to baptise, John recognises that he has before him the holy one of God. For him to be baptising Jesus with a baptism of repentance seemed all wrong. (This situation of roles feeling the wrong way around reminds me of St Peter refusing to have his feet washed by Jesus.) Perhaps this is truly a sign of John’s greatness that he humbly accepts Jesus’ statement that it is necessary ‘to fulfil all righteousness’.
This term righteousness can be a slippery one, often equated with ‘following the rules’ and here used as if baptism was some kind of requirement for Jesus. But Matthew’s Gospel uses the term a lot, and the other appearances of the word can give us a sense of its meaning. As Andrew McGowan notes, in just a few chapters on we will hear from Jesus that those who ‘hunger and thirst for righteousness’ will be blessed… but earlier in Matthew’s Gospel we hear Joseph described as ‘a righteous man’ for planning to dismiss Mary quietly when she was found to be pregnant![1] This may help us to a deeper understanding of righteousness, for Joseph’s subsequent disobedience to the law was what enabled the Holy Family to be formed. A deeper righteousness, it seems, may sometimes be found in disobeying the rules and attending to the possibilities of God’s saving mercy when it appears to unravel everything we expected and disrupt our lives. What matters, it seems, is what we do when such grace appears.
Kairos events are described by Paul Tillich as those moments when ‘the eternal judges and transforms the temporal’[2] The kairos event of Jesus beginning his public ministry certainly meets that criteria, with the way having to prepared by John crying out in the wilderness, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” John’s discomforting words and his free spirit that rejects all attempts to own or influence him makes enemies everywhere, particularly amongst the powerful. It is this uncompromising commitment to the truth which lands him in prison and then executed- a victim of Herod’s violent reign. It is yet another reminder of the costliness of discipleship, and of the reality that sometimes evil seems to be winning.
The light cannot enter the world without revealing what had formerly been hidden in darkness. Jesus’ presence appearing in human history judges evil at the same time as bringing saving grace. The inbreaking of God, whenever it happens, always demands of us a response or life-changing decision or fresh alignment with the transforming work of the Spirit. This story, like all the Christmas and Epiphany narratives for that matter, is a reminder that God’s appearance can be found in the unlikeliest of places. Matthew’s Gospel tells us that ‘the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him (John the Baptist), and all along the Jordan, and they were baptised by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.’ (Matthew 3: 5,6) It is an image of people coming from everywhere, seeking the prophet and a new beginning, through John’s ministry finding the great liberation of being honest with themselves and with God. Jesus arrives not as a spectacular guest, foreshadowed by John with trumpet fanfare and red carpets, but one of this line of messy humanity. We might even imagine Jesus walking side by side with others down to the river or, perhaps even standing in a queue?[3] What would Jesus do? I think Jesus would queue…
Reminding ourselves of the way this event emerged unexpectedly from a common scene at the Jordan River, surrounded by lots of ordinary people, might help us retain the shock of the incarnation. It is a scandal that God might just turn up in a line of hopeful or sorrowing humanity. To see God here amongst the river crowd like this means that we can also find God in other queues of desperate or oppressed peoples, from refugee lines to border control checkpoints, waiting for a number to be called at Centrelink, asking for a food hamper or on hold to a counselling hotline. When Jesus tells us to be alert and stay awake, ready for the inbreaking of kairos moments in time, it might remind us to be watchful for Christ in the real lives of everyday people, present with all those walking through heartache and suffering. More than being watchful, we are called upon to be ready to respond.
Sometimes, though, it can feel like we are powerless to respond. Sometimes it can feel like powers that rule through domination and greed and war-mongering cannot be resisted. There is a heaviness to entering a new year with so many long military conflicts continuing and new wars threatening. In the first century John raised his prophetic voice against oppressive powers, calling on people to repent and be ready. The waiting can be excruciating, but the witness of John is a reminder that such forces have no power to control the inbreaking of God and its disruptive capacity for life and goodness.
We may be called to watch and to wait. But waiting need not be passive. Sometimes to be alert and watchful is to be part of a movement of resistance.
Where we hear of war across the globe, one way we can be part of the resistance is by being peacemakers in our families and communities. When we hear of authoritarian regimes disregarding law and taking the lives of civilians, we can call our leaders to strive for peace, justice and to honour the humanity of all.
Where we see the divisive and often dishonest power of media monopolies to shape public opinion, building acceptance for blatantly evil action, we can resist. Joining this resistance might mean practicing discernment in what watch and read, speaking directly and truthfully, stopping the doomscrolling and staying open and curious about what we do not know.
Where we can see the gap widening between rich and poor we can join the resistance by choosing to live more simply and leaning into local community action, caring for those in need.
When online rhetoric or our social group makes us suspicious of others, we can join the resistance by getting to know our actual neighbours, particularly those whose culture or life experience is different from our own.
To do such things is to resist forces which will dehumanise us. Such active waiting makes us ready for those kairos moments when Christ appears. Living with such attention keeps us awake to the possibility that Jesus might be found queuing amongst the hopeful or downtrodden and in the hearts of anyone who knows their need.
A final word.
John the Baptist’s prophetic demands and searing judgement prepared the way of repentance, but can feel harsh and uncompromising. The righteousness of Jesus, however, expects not just obeying the law but its fulfilment, embracing God’s saving mercy. Such a high calling demands our all but also receives and blesses our all, moving amongst our hurt, our failures and our pain. Christ breaks into time and space as the suffering servant of Isaiah who will not break a bruised reed or snuff out a dimly burning wick. Justice, with mercy, dawns upon a merciless world.
May we wait in active resistance and eager expectation for that day.
+Amen
[1] Andrew McGowan https://abmcg.substack.com/p/fulfilling-all-righteousness-the
[2] Paul Tillich, The Protestant Era, (University of Chicago Press, 1948), 38, 45.
[3] Indebted to Ian Mosby for the thought of Jesus joining a queue