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CHAPTER III Baptism
The next day John stood waist-deep in the waters of the Jordan river.
His camel-hair tunic lay in a heap on the riverbank, his hairy chest heaving in cadence to his words as he preached to the people congregated on the shore. Unexpectedly, in mid-sentence, his exhortations ceased. In the eerie, echoing silence that followed, one could hear the gentle ripple of water. Hands arrested in mid-gesture lowered to his side. His eyes followed a figure moving in the crowd.
Jesus stepped from the assembly to the water's edge, a smile on his lips. Removing his tunic, he tossed it beside John's. "Greetings, cousin." he said quietly.
It took a moment for John to find his tongue. When he did, he spoke not to Jesus, but to his listeners, "See now for yourselves!" voice trembling just above a whisper. Gesturing toward Jesus his voice straining, "Here standing before us is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!" Indistinguishable murmuring softly fluttered among the crowd.
For John it all began to come back. He recalled the countless nights when his mother had told him the story of his aunt Mary and the birth of this cousin. Told him of what God had done. Told him of his own special birth to them in their old age. How many times had his father told him of how he was special to God? He had only seen Jesus a few times as they both grew up. They lived too far apart and even when the family came for Passover, the sheer number of people made it difficult for family reunion to take place. But he knew Jesus well enough to recognize him easily. He knew enough to sense and seize the exigency of the moment. He knew that Jesus had come to be baptized, yet . . .
Incredibly, he thought of that moment in the olive grove. He thought of the shame. Why has he come to me? It was a question of honest inquiry. I am the one in need of change. Not him! Incredulous John. "I--I can't do this," he stammered.
"John, please. This is your hour, and mine. This is the way for us to fulfill all righteousness. It is what the Father wants. You will see in a moment."
They stood together in the river. John lifted his arm to embrace the broad carpenter shoulders of his cousin. Turning again to the crowd standing by he said, "This is he of whom I spoke, 'After me comes a Man who has a higher rank than I, for He existed before me.'" (An odd remark, since John was conceived before Jesus. Was this grizzled prophet somehow aware of Jesus' true origins?) "I did not recognize him at first. But I knew he was coming, and I knew that I was sent to prepare the way for him. Now, therefore, in order that he might be manifest to all men, I baptize him in this water today." Then Jesus knelt in the water and John laid him beneath the eddies.
After being baptized, Jesus enthusiastically embraced John and waded out of the water, his body dripping puddles around him. Abruptly, the overcast above parted to allow shafts of sunlight. A dove, wings white with the sun, descended in slow arcs, coming to rest on Jesus' shoulder. There came a distant rumbling in the air like thunder escalating louder and louder until it stopped. And in the silence that followed, a clear voice was heard by all, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." Jesus stood there, the dove perched on his shoulder, both bathed in sunlight. John exulted, "Did you see that!? I told you this was going to happen! I've been telling you for years. Did you see the Spirit of the living God? Out of the heavens He came . . . as a dove! . . . sitting upon his shoulder! I knew this was going to happen! I knew it because God once said to me, 'He upon whom you see the Spirit descend, this is the one who baptizes in the Holy Spirit.' "Now I see with my own eyes, so see you all! I know, and I tell you that this man--is the Son of God!"
The journey shaped in the development of one's faith is marked by events terribly significant to its formation. So it was for me when the form of Jesus disappeared beneath the currents of the Jordan. I had heard John speak and preach of Jesus countless times. His reality, though, seemed almost like a ghostly celebrity, a tale of fiction related as if it were true. To actually see that Jesus was real evoked scattered feelings of the ordinary mixed with awe. I was not prepared for the dove nor for the voice from the lowering sky. The nature, tenor and tone of the voice made it clear that no one standing by could have uttered it. Unlike many miraculous events in life, this one left no doubt as to its supernatural character. It wasn't, however, the deific features of this event that so shaped my intent to pursue this man until my last breath. It was Jesus himself. He certainly had sought no recognition of himself other than that which he had through this act with his cousin, he had publicly committed his life to the worship and service of God. I wish I could tell you what it was that so compelled me, that so made me want to be with him. He was a young man, yet his demeanor spoke of wisdom and depth beyond his years. When his eyes met mine, it seemed that he knew me, yet he had never met me. It was as if he had said, "Hello, Justus, my old friend." Yet beyond his smile, he spoke nothing. As I write these words now, I try in retrospect to understand my compulsive attraction to him. I cannot, these many years later, I cannot understand. As I write, I know that the bond that occurred between his soul and mine on the day of his baptism is more tightly bound today than ever. I know that we are inseparable--one, together, forever. How I long to see you again, my Jesus, my friend, my dearest friend!
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