by Danielle Shroyer
Gospel Reading: Mark 1:9-15
For Sunday, Feb. 26, 2012: Year B—Lent 1
Why is Mark always in such a hurry? Sometimes when I’m reading his Gospel I get the sense that he’s rolling his eyes, impatient that we’re asking him to tell the story at all. In a mere six verses he manages to zoom past FOUR major things.
This guy is like the MicroMachines man.
Finally, A Moment to Catch Our Breath...
Because in Mark’s crazy world spending three whole verses on something is noteworthy, let’s first look at the baptism of Jesus. If ever Mark hit the “slow” button, it would be here. After Jesus practically teleports from Nazareth straight into the Jordan River, the camera slows way down so that we can get an intimate snapshot of a sacred moment.
The heavens open, the Spirit descends, and God speaks straight to Jesus (Not to the crowd, notice. And your point, Mark?): “You are my son, my beloved. I am so pleased with you.” You even get the feeling that God took precious time in speaking the words. It’s all very touching.
And it’s this moment where we see Jesus stepping into his own identity, both through his own actions and through the affirming words of the Father. He has arrived. It’s a watershed moment, a massive turning point.
Get Ready for the Sucker Punch
And then, the Spirit we just had envisioned so peacefully flapping her wings and resting gracefully upon Jesus’ shoulders, maybe giving him a little nestling nudge on his neck—that same Spirit flings the still-soaking wet Christ straight out into the wilderness to fend for himself amongst both Evil Incarnate and wild hungry beasts.
So much for the perks of being “beloved.”
What Happens in Baptism...
Because Mark is always shoving us along to the next thing, the next four verses reveal that for this evangelist, the baptism story is as much about Jesus being sent as it is about Jesus being affirmed and claimed. For all Mark’s rapidity, I can’t argue theologically with that one.
What happens in baptism doesn’t stay in baptism. Or, at least, it shouldn’t. Baptism gives us travelin’ shoes.
Then again, there is something that stays in baptism—the indelible mark of beloved-ness. It’s the proclamation that beloved-ness has been given to us...and, dare I say, that the power of this beloved-ness allows us to face Evil Incarnate and wild hungry beasts and come out on the other side telling the good news.
The Hardest Question
This passage poses a whole slew of questions for anyone intent on convincing the unbaptized of their sin rather than that beloved-ness.
If we had enough faith in the power of that beloved-ness, maybe we’d spend a lot more time talking about that to people than we would attempting to convince them of their depravity.
What would happen if we were “immediately drove…out” by beloved-ness rather than sin?
And does the presence of angels waiting on the expended Jesus in the wilderness sufficiently compensate for this post-baptismal Spirit flinging? Or is that a rather meager consolation prize?
