Abstract
An epiphany has been described as a moment when you see something in a new or a very clear way.
During a recent Holy Week a busy minister had one such moment. Holy Week is never an easy journey. But for various reasons this minister was finding it particularly hard. On the Thursday she was sitting on the bus heading off to the hospital to make a couple of difficult visits. A phone call earlier had told of a sudden death. Various other pastoral issues and a piece of work for the wider church were demanding a lot of her time and attention and energy. Pictures from the news that morning of distraught families of teenagers lost in a ferry disaster in Korea kept returning to her mind. And underlying all of that was the usual minister’s concern – “What am I going to say on Easter Sunday morning that hasn’t already been said!”
The minister was so preoccupied that she did not notice a mother and child get onto the bus and slip into a seat a couple of rows behind her. That is, she didn’t notice them until the mother began to sing. It was a simple child’s song. And soon the little girl joined in. It was not possible to make out what they were singing – it was in a foreign language (perhaps that does not come as a surprise – the average Scot does not burst into song on the bus! – at least not in Edinburgh!) Neither mother, nor daughter were particularly good singers. Yet with that song something changed.
The minister’s eyes were opened. She saw the girl sitting opposite her with Downs Syndrome begin to beam. A fractious toddler a few rows in front who had been giving her mother quite a bit of grief settled down. An older lady bent forward and spoke gently and kindly to that young Mum. A young gentleman wearing a hoodie stood up and held the folding seat down for an old man who had just got onto the bus. As that song, sung gently by a mother and child touched the ears of the travellers, the bus ceased to be simply a means of getting from A to B. It became however briefly a community who were on a journey together. And a Minister rediscovered the peace and presence of Christ that had been eluding her all week and knew what she had to say on Sunday to another community on a journey – a community with its own song to sing – an Easter song of life and faith, of hope and love!
Epiphany moments happen to each of us from time to time on faith’s journey. Some are more dramatic than others. But they all have something in common – they help us to see things in a new light. In these moments our eyes are opened to understand more about who God is and who we are. We are given a glimpse of the presence and activity of God in the world. It is as if God has said “Let there be light”.
In today’s Gospel reading we find such a moment. Mark introduces his readers to Jesus for the first time. And he does so in a dramatic way with his account of Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan by John the Baptist. The heavens are torn apart, the Spirit descends like a dove, the voice comes from heaven – all these indicate that this is one of those special moments which lead us into a new and deeper awareness of God’s presence and purpose.
For centuries to come, great minds will ponder the significance of Jesus baptism. They will reflect in minute detail on the differences in the Gospel accounts and the reasons for them. They will wrestle with the upside down nature of Jesus being baptised by John. They will debate the difference between baptism with water and baptism with the Holy Spirit. They will appreciate the way in which Jesus, through his baptism, identifies with all those who search for God. They will draw comfort from God’s affirmation of Jesus as his Beloved Son. They will find here a sign that Jesus shares our human life and a promise that we will share his risen life. But all this is yet to come.
For the Gospel writer the dilemma is much simpler – how will he, for the benefit of his readers and hearers, shed light on the story he has to tell? Mark has already stated that the purpose of the book he is writing is to set out the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God (Mark1:1). But how will he introduce us to the one who is the centre of this story? How will he bring Jesus to the centre of the stage? How will he share with his readers the light that he himself has seen?
The Gospels of Matthew and Luke respond to this dilemma in birth narratives and genealogies that point us to the identity of Jesus, that tell us who Jesus is. In John’s Gospel we find a theological reflection on Jesus, the Word, who participates in God’s work of creation, now becoming flesh and dwelling amongst us. Mark sets the scene in his own way with that pivotal encounter between John the Baptist and Jesus.
First of all Mark introduces us to John the Baptist, the messenger appearing in the wilderness who fulfils Old Testament prophecy. The wilderness always held a special place in the thinking of the Jewish people. It was a reminder of the Exodus, and their origins as a people of God. It is by and through God’s initiative, that the people are led out of slavery in Egypt, through the wilderness, to freedom and faith. By beginning his story in the wilderness Mark is priming his listeners to expect a story about the next new thing that God is doing.
Only then does he introduce Jesus himself. Jesus, he tells us, came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptised by John in the Jordan. But it is not the baptism itself that is central to the passage but Jesus’s vision. Mark tells of Jesus seeing the heavens being torn apart, the Spirit descending like a dove. Then comes the voice from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well-pleased”. This is what is crucial to Mark’s understanding of the story that follows - this unique relationship that Jesus has with God. Jesus is none other than the Son of God.
It is only in light of this truth that we too can begin to understand the story that Mark has to tell. That story will include healings and miracles, amazement and confusion, tears and laughter, ambition and jealousy, grief and fear, suffering and death. Throughout it all, people will struggle to understand who Jesus is, until a Roman centurion stands at the foot of a cross, beside the broken body of Jesus and utters those words “Truly this man was God’s Son”.
But surely that story with all its ups and downs, its struggle for understanding, is also our story. It is the story of human life. Mark shows us God, in Jesus, embracing that human life and transforming it. And so we can know that our story is part of God’s much greater story. And seeing things in that light makes all the difference to our own lives and to the way we see the world around us.
Let me close some words of a hymn by the late Leith Fisher Christ is our love! Baptised that we may know The love of God among us swooping low Christ be our love, bring us to turn our face And see you in the light of heaven’s embrace!
Coming Next Month
Next month, Bruce Gordon continues our reformers series with a look at the life and work of Huldrych Zwingli. Jason Meston presents some thoughts on Acts 1:6.