"In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan (River). And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." Mark 1:9-11 [NRSV]
I admit to writing this late in the evening, which will probably be my weekend practice for this blog since Saturday and Sunday mornings don't offer the same stringent schedule. And so, I was quite excited to hear this morning's Gospel text from Mark - in fact, all I could think about for the rest of the service was "I was there! I've touched, waded, and witnessed this river!"
We had two experiences at the Jordan River while in the Holy Land - one near the source, in the Galilee area early on in the trip; again the day before we came home in Jordan. Both offered different senses of the global church, of what this place means to so many different people.
In the Galilee, we arrived early to avoid major crowds as the site is a popular place for baptisms. In fact, when we got there, we saw a group of high school students from Cincinnati we had run into a couple times before. Many of them were preparing to affirm their baptisms, as well as two students who were to be baptized. But they didn't have a pastor with them. One of the teachers came to our group and asked if a pastor was willing to lead the baptisms. Being a group of seminary soon-to-be pastors as well as already-pastors, dear Pastor Peggy (and LSTC member of the Board of Directors) stepped up.
And so, the forty-four of us plus the twenty or so of the Cincinnati group gathered at the river to share in this experience. We had a host of "river" songs in our packet, and as good Lutherans, sang loud, proud, and in harmony. One by one, the kids and some of their chaperons entered the river for an immersion in the cold, the sacred. Even our professor Esther got celebrated her baptism. Many of us waded, caught in the moment of song, dance, and the sense of being a part of something bigger than us.
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A little more than a week later, we gathered again at the river, this time on the Jordan side of the river. More of a stream, a trickle at this point (we were very south of the Galilee region, very close to the Dead Sea) our side of the river had a small wood stand and platform, with only a couple of stairs leading into the murky water. Joining our side was a small congregation of Russian Orthodox celebrants, engaged in a small, intimate worship. Across from us, an expanse of modernity - stone walls, walkways, entries into the water. And gradually, a mass of people - in the midst, a number of Israeli military soldiers - appeared, faces crowding over the highest platform.
Another Orthodox worship service commenced on the other side of the river. Using a megaphone to project to the masses, this group, which we belief was either Ethiopian Orthodox or Coptic Orthodox, was singing boisterous songs - the beat of drums, hands, and dancing drowning out the priests. It was a beautiful witness to the diversity of religious practice - and yet, there was a bit of sadness for me.
Separated by a small river, separated by walls, government systems, religious systems, human systems - this Holy Land that unites millions in faith and divides millions by belief.
Scripture for Today - Genesis 6:8-17; Psalm 25:1-10; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15
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