The Beloved
Matthew 3:13-17
Imposter syndrome. Imposter syndrome is when someone attains a status for which they don’t feel qualified. The freshman undergrad in their first semester at Harvard. The A-list actor whose paycheck far exceeds that of their costars. The pastor who doesn’t feel worthy of the trust that the congregation has placed in him. Imposter syndrome appears in many forms, but the underlying fear is always the same—being found out as a fraud. What if people find out that I don’t really belong? That I’m not qualified? That I don’t deserve to be here?
For many first-year students at Princeton Theological Seminary, imposter syndrome is as common as the common cold. It’s felt most keenly in the Intro to Old Testament course, which is a requirement for every student in the fall semester of their first year. Intro to OT is Princeton’s version of boot camp. The professors (it’s always co-taught) aim to break you down intellectually and then rebuild you in Princeton’s image.
For example, virtually every student receives the same grade on their first paper—not A, B, or C but the dreaded “R,” as in, “Rewrite.” A rewrite means that a paper was below satisfactory. A rewrite is Princeton’s way of saying, “Welcome to graduate school! The standards are higher here.” And in a way, a rewrite is an act of mercy. At least you’re given a second chance. Then again, the highest grade you can receive on a rewrite is a B. And for a bunch of high achievers, which describes pretty much everyone at Princeton, a B is akin to failure.
After the shock of the rewrite comes the midterm exam, which only ups the pressure. For students already questioning whether they belong in seminary after receiving a grade of rewrite, the midterm exam feels like life or death. To prepare for the exam, students form study groups and pass around copies of exams from prior years. They try to memorize outlines of entire books of the Old Testament. The morning of the exam the Black student group even holds a prayer breakfast because, why not? It couldn’t hurt.
I distinctly remember sitting at my desk in the moments before the exam, poring over my notes, trying to cram into my head one last bit of information (Elijah vs Elisha, Zechariah vs Zephaniah, 1 Kings vs 2 Kings). I had some imposter syndrome myself. After all, I was 39 years old. I hadn’t taken an exam in 17 years. What was I doing in this classroom? I didn’t belong with all these bright kids who had just graduated college, many of whom attended Bible colleges and knew from the time they were in grade school that they were on the road to seminary. By contrast, I had taken the scenic route. Two months earlier I had been writing advertising copy.
With just a minute or two before the exam was to begin, as students were sill taking their seats, I noticed a woman who was not in the class—I recognized her as a second-year student—walk up to the blackboard. Without drawing attention to herself, she proceeded to write on the board the following: “Remember who and whose you are.” Then she left just as quietly as she had entered.
The message was a bit of pastoral care from a student who was not yet a pastor to a bunch of future pastors. It was her way of telling us, “It’s just an exam. Whatever grade we would receive would not define us—not for better and not for worse. Regardless of our score, we were God’s children. We belonged to the God who called us “Beloved.”
“This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” These are the words spoken by the voice of the Lord to Jesus at his baptism. The interesting thing is that up to this point, Jesus hasn’t done anything of note. He is not yet a public figure. His ministry has yet to begin. He hasn’t called any disciples. He hasn’t told any parables. He hasn’t healed anyone. He hasn’t made any enemies of the religious leaders. What he has done is traveled by foot from his home region of Galilee down to the Jordan River to be baptized by John. That’s it! What’s so great about that?
The baptism of Jesus is told in all four Gospels. There aren’t many events about which that can be said. Even the birth of Jesus, as we’ve discussed the past few weeks, is found only in Luke and Matthew. Events that are told in all four gospels include the calling of the disciples, the cleansing of the temple, the Last Supper, the crucifixion, the resurrection…and the baptism of Jesus. That in itself is interesting. Among the handful of milestones in the life and ministry of Jesus that all four Gospel writers saw fit to include is Jesus’ baptism. They all understood it to be important enough to record.
But why? What makes this ritual purification with water so significant? And why is this the event that marks the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry?
Let’s tackle these questions by starting with the one doing the baptizing—John. John is this wild figure who emerges from the wilderness one day wearing clothing made of coarse camel’s hair and eating a diet that could have appeared on an episode of the TV show Fear Factor…locusts and wild honey. Mmm mmm!
John was old school, preaching like a prophet from the Old Testament, calling the people to repent and return to God. Yet he was also an innovator. Prior to John, there is no mention of baptism in the Bible. There were ritual washings of the hands or feet, especially for priests, but the Old Testament does not contain one mention of the word “baptism.” From the perspective of the Bible, baptism begins with John.
Matthew tells us that people were coming out in droves to the wilderness to be baptized by John. There’s a regular revival taking place. But even as John baptizes the masses, he knows that his ministry of baptism is merely a placeholder until one greater than he comes along. “I baptize you with water for repentance,” he says, “but the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals” (Matt. 3:11).
When Jesus arrives along the bank of the Jordan River, John recognizes Jesus as the one. I wish we had their full exchange, but Matthew condenses their interaction to just three verses. I would love to know whether John knows in that very moment, or does he come to the realization more gradually? The implication from their brief exchange is that Jesus has a presence and a holiness about him that lead John to conclude right that instant that Jesus is the one. It’s that same charisma that Jesus will show when he calls the brothers James and John to be his disciples and they instantly follow him while leaving their father behind in the boat without so much as a goodbye.
When Jesus steps into the waters of the Jordan River he takes his first step on the road that will eventually lead him to the cross.
As Matthew tells it, perhaps sensing a holiness in the man from Galilee who stands before him, John tries to prevent Jesus from being baptized. “I need to be baptized by you,” he says, “and do you come to me?” (Matt. 3:14).
It’s a fair point. John baptizes for the forgiveness of sins. If Jesus is without sin, which all Christians would avow, then why does he want to submit to a baptism that symbolizes repentance for sins? Why would Jesus need to repent?
The answer, of course, is that Jesus has no need to repent, but we do. Therefore his willingness to plunge into the waters of the Jordan is not for his sake but for ours, for in submitting to a baptism of repentance, Jesus identifies with a hurting and hurtful world, with a world of wounded people who can’t help but inflict their pain onto others.
When Jesus steps into the waters of the Jordan River he takes his first step on the road that will eventually lead him to the cross. Just as he is crucified for the sins of the world—for our sins—so he is baptized to identify fully with sinners. John had called on everyone to repent of their sins, and in Jesus, who offers to be baptized even though he is without sin, the world responds. His obedience is our obedience. His faithfulness is our faithfulness. His righteousness is our righteousness. And his belovedness is our belovedness.
As Jesus emerges from the water, a voice from the heavens declares, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:17). The Beloved. The voice of the Lord proclaims Jesus “the Beloved” even though he has yet to do anything for which he will become known. Before he calls the disciples. Before he preaches the Sermon on the Mount. Before he turns water into wine. Before he gives sight to the man born blind. Before he goes to the cross in obedience to the Father’s will, he is and always has been the Beloved.
This is what we must realize; Jesus is not beloved because he does any of those things; he does those things because he is beloved. He is beloved not for what he does but for who he is. He is the Beloved of the Father because he is the Son. Again, the word of the Lord spoken over him is, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Full stop. God doesn’t rattle off a list of Jesus’ accomplishments like a proud parent. God simply celebrates the relationship that the Father has with the Son.
And God celebrates over you, not because of anything that you’ve done but simply out of joy for the fact that you exist, that you are. The words spoken over Jesus at his baptism you must hear as true for you: “This is my son, my daughter, my child, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”