“The Water Will Hold You”

Baptism of OUr Lord/RIC Celebration

January 12, 2025

Child floating on his back.

Galatians 3:23-29

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

Remember the first time your swimming teacher tried to convince you that you’d be okay floating on your back? The panic. The flailing. The insistence that they not remove their hand that seemed to be holding you up. And the teacher continues to remind you that the water will hold you. Just relax. The water will hold you.

Luke tells us that John gathered people of all types at the Jordan, baptizing them and teaching them how to live lives worthy of the love God has for them. The word ‘baptize’ means ‘immerse.’ He immersed them in water—Jews, tax collectors, even Roman soldiers. But he reminded them that he wasn’t the one everyone was waiting for. That one was still coming. He would immerse them in holy breath and holy fire.

It was in the midst of all of this that Jesus was also baptized at the Jordan. Immersed in the water. And as he was lifted up out of the water, holy breath came to him and a voice claimed him as God’s Own, God’s Beloved, God’s Favored. These would be words necessary for him as he would leave immediately for the wilderness—for fasting and temptation. He would need to be reminded that no matter what, the water would hold him.

There are scholars and theologians who will spend their lives arguing about why Jesus was baptized. If it’s a baptism to assure forgiveness of sins, then does that presume he sinned? Which seems heretical. But I think it was how God chose to lead the way for the rest of us. Until the moment of Jesus’ baptism, everyone was being washed by water. Like a mikveh—the ritual pools in which Jews were required to enter after a period of being unclean.

But with Jesus, the holy breath and holy fire became present. A ritual cleansing happens over and over again. You can’t get through life without becoming ritually unclean. That’s why mikvehs exist. But the baptism that Jesus leads us into is different. Once is enough. With holy breath and holy fire, we are assured that the water will hold us. No matter what happens next, the water will hold us.

Some will hear the words of John—the winnowing fork and the wheat and chaff, the unquenchable fire—and imagine the hell of Dante’s creation. People writhing in eternal pain and suffering because they either weren’t baptized or didn’t believe or committed some other atrocious sin. But remember, the grain of wheat and the chaff—the outer grain covering and stalk and leaves—are all part of the same plant. The threshing floor isn’t about separating righteous people from unrighteous. It’s about redemption of the whole person. It isn’t a punishment. It’s a cleansing—a purification.

It’s the process precious metals go through as they are refined. Until they are refined, they are unable to serve the purpose of the maker. But through fire, they are melted down. The dross—the chaff—is burnt away. And what is left is pure. Being immersed in holy breath and holy fire prepares us for our purpose. Prepares us for the temptations we face ahead. Prepares us to be held by the water—without fear, without condemnation, without flailing. But not without struggle.

At baptism, we use oil to mark the forehead, saying, “Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” That mark isn’t a talisman that keeps difficulties at bay. It doesn’t ward off the devil. It serves to remind us that we are God’s own, God’s beloved. And that nobody can remove that from us. Nobody has a right to call us evil. Nobody has a right to call us an abomination. Nobody has a right to question the love God has bestowed on us. And it means that we are treat everyone else that same way.

Jesus’ baptism meant that he stands with the most vulnerable in our midst. He stands with the reviled. He stands with those called unholy by the empire. He stands with those who find themselves locked away—apart from society. He stands with all who are told the water isn’t for them—who question whether the water will hold them.

So, for all who doubt, question, or have a hard time believing, it’s okay. The water will hold you. For those who have been reviled and chastised for who you are, who you love, how you look, or which bathroom you use—the water will hold you. For those who have been abused by the Church, by society, or by the empire—the water will hold you. For those who have been able to rely on your faith and your way of life without much trouble—the water holds you, too. Because it isn’t really the water that does the work. God’s hand has never and will never leave you.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE