Sermon Tone Analysis

15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals.

He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.

17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

21 Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, 22 and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.

And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

This second week of Epiphany, we witness John the Baptist proclaiming the true Lord, the true Messiah, Jesus, who is being baptized and claiming his calling.

I love the opening words of this passage — “as the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts...” Do you get a sense for how those people felt?

“Oh goodness, I sure hope this guy out hear preaching in the wilderness is going to show us what I think he is.”

“I’ve got a good feeling about this...” “I wonder, could it be true…is the Messiah really here?

We’ve waited...”

It seems that the people are ready to give their allegiance to John — they’ve been waiting for God’s messenger to come along, a king to lead them out of the oppressive occupation of Rome and the corrupt religious establishment.

They are longing, hoping.

They are willing to commit.

Have you ever seen that kind of political fervor?

I think we can probably begin to sniff it in the wind even these days, as rumors and confirmations circulate about who will run for president in 2020.

Are you ready to throw your support behind someone, hoping they’ll make things all ok?

I’ve been struck by the texts of Epiphany and how they stir this kind of longing in our hearts.

The Hebrew people had been longing for a King, had asked repeatedly, for centuries, for a king to lead them like they saw other kings.

Read the Old Testament — you’ll hear story after story of kings who were hoped for, hope that they would make the world ok.

But we haven’t abandoned this desire ourselves.

I remember the first time I got to vote in a presidential election, it was George W. Bush vs. Al Gore.

I had this sense of how if only the right person were elected, our country would be so well off.

Or how about the energy that many of my generation had rallying around Barack Obama’s candidacy.

I remember walking the streets of Bellingham the night he was elected, feeling the excitement and celebration — we the people had a sense that a good king had been elected.

Regardless of your political persuasion or even your national origin, this is a common feeling.

And I chuckle a bit as I read these Epiphany texts because they speak of something so different, so otherwise — we want a king, a leader, a president, a political party, or maybe a business or financial situation or a good medical prognosis or a good return on investment — we long for these things because if only we had them…everything would be ok.

And we commit our allegiances, our hearts, our longings to them.

I chuckle because the texts show us that it is Christ alone who sets the world to rights.

It is Christ alone that cleanses, purifies, makes right, redeems, restores, forgives, and provides hope.

We look all over, we fly all kinds of other flags, we sniff at the wind for the next big thing.

And yet it’s right in front of us, a call to letting all the rest go and finding our home, our hope, and the hope for all the world, in Christ alone.

To unpack this, I want to talk a bit about baptism, which is featured in our text, and, first, flags.

Sound good?

I have to chuckle a little bit at

Questioning in their hearts concerning John

— Do they give their allegiance to John?

— John, remember, is a prophet of the Old Testament tradition ushering in the new way

The New Leader - Jesus, the Messiah

— Allegiance to him, the one who will clear the brush, burning up chaff

— The full support and blessing of God in heaven.

— Beloved and well pleased.

A Light to the Nations

— Not simply a leader for one country in the Middle East

— A light for the whole world to see

Flying Flags to Name Our Allegiances

— Pirate Flag

— Pride Flag

— Faithlife has a big flag on their building downtown

— Washington State flag

— American flag

— PC(USA) flag

Even the way you fly your flag says something about your allegiances and what you are claiming to belong to.

For instance, when a predominant national figure dies or we experience a tragedy as a community, we fly flags at half-staff.

This is a marker of solidarity with those who have experienced the loss.

We say “we are one, we belong to one another and we stand together in the midst of crisis.”

Flags fly on special holidays, which commemorate and remember the sacrifices of our nations veterans.

We remember their willingness to stand in harm’s way for the good of all in our community, country, and world.

Why am I talking about flags?

Because how and what and where you fly flags tells us about your allegiances.

They are that thing for some of us, like the people gathered around John the Baptizer, that pull upon our hearts and speak to what we claim and belong to.

Flags are one of many important visual symbols we use in culture to make meaning.

Ever heard of a field of study called “semiotics”?

Well, whether you’ve heard of it or studied it or not, you are already familiar with the concept.

Semiotics is the study of symbols that help us make meaning.

The basic idea is that we use symbols (for example, letters build words) to communicate meaning to one another.

Street signs are another simple example of semiotics — a pictorial representation of a person walking on a cross walk reminds us to pay attention to pedestrians.

Flags are a rich cultural symbol that can be studied in semiosis.

They are visual representations which make deep meaning for us, helping us track and articulate allegiances and citizenship, remember our history and geography.

In this moment, with Jesus and John the Baptist, we witness a visual representations of God’s presence and calling being placed upon Jesus, the Messiah.

John is using image metaphors — fire, winnowing forks, and ritual washing — all to help paint a picture for the people of Jesus’ significance and role as the coming political leader.

And then, to compound and solidify this claim, we hear the voice of God from the Heavens, something rich with Hebrew cultural significance as God’s message to the people, affirming and claiming Jesus as God’s one chosen one.

It’s like John, with God’s help, starts flying a flag to claim the land they stand upon as holy and sacred territory for the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.

It is from this moment, this opening up point, that Jesus is on display as the Messiah, the coming and anticipated leader of the people.

But this flag, this marker, this symbol of Jesus’ ministry being inaugurated in his baptism is not something just for those people standing on the riverside or for that particular portion of the Judean countryside.

This symbol and what it represents is for all the world to see.

When we talk about Jesus being a light to the nations, we have to hear this as not only a Jewish man being claimed by his people as their chosen leader, but also as the King of all Nations being launched into his role of Lord of all.

All nations, all peoples, from Judea to Bellingham, from the north to the south, east to the west.

Let’s bring this on home now.

Jesus is Lord, beloved by God and called into his ministry in this moment.

John is launching up symbols of divine regime change — there’s a new program in town.

We, also, are given the opportunity to experience this radical reforming of our lives in this moment — it is in our baptism that are allegiances are also pronounced and claimed in the love of God.

We are no longer merely citizens of this world.

Rather, in our baptism, we claim are allegiance to the Kingdom of God, a kingdom which is ruled by the Light of the Nations, the Christ who is for all to see.

So when we are baptized, the flag we fly changes.

The symbols of our lives tell a new story.

This is a part of the Epiphany invitation — to name our allegiance to Christ alone and claim our citizenship, our solidarity, our sole belonging, in the family of God.

You’ll notice we have a new addition to our narthex, right be the entry doors to the church.

This week, we began flying the Bellingham city flag.

Bellingham has a flag, you say?

Why yes, our city officially adopted that beautiful green and blue flag a couple of years ago.

You’ll see in your bulletin an insert that is a study in semiotics — symbols used to communicate the right history of our city and the way we belong together as a diverse people.

In this past year, our worship committee has been thinking through some of the ways we make visual meaning in our worship space, how we want to help deepen our understanding of our belonging to God and our mission to serve as ambassadors of Christ in our city.

An idea we had was to start flying this Bellingham flag, alongside the American and Presbyterian flags, as a symbol of our belonging in and care for our city.

In closing, I want to link this flag to baptism.

Each time you enter the doors of this church, you are implicitly invited to remember who you belong to, by the people you interact with, the words we speak, and the images that are visible.

We have a baptismal font here on the chancel, which reminds us of our baptism, our being claimed by the Kingdom of God above and before all other kingdoms.

Part of deepening this, we also note that as we walk through the doors, we are marked as citizens.

We are citizens of this country.

We are members of the Presbyterian Church, USA.

And we are inhabitants of the city of Bellingham.