19 February 2016

The baptism of Jesus. And adoption. And anointing.

Mark 1.9-11, Matthew 3.13-17, Luke 3.21-22.

Baptism, i.e. ritual washing, was usually for Jews who were ritually unclean: They’d touched an animal they weren’t allowed to eat, anything they found dead, an open wound; they’d expelled bodily fluids of one sort or another; in general they needed to wash themselves and their clothes before they went to temple. Pharisees co-opted the ritual and said you gotta do this before going to synagogue as well.

And John the baptist co-opted the ritual too, and used it on sinners who wanted to repent and get morally clean. Same practice, new idea.

Mark 1.9 KWL
It happens in these days Jesus comes from Nazareth of the Galilee,
and is baptized by John in the Jordan.
Matthew 3.13-15 KWL
13Then Jesus comes from the Galilee to the Jordan,
to John, to be baptized by him.
14John is preventing him, saying,
I need to be baptized by you¹!
And you¹ come to me?”
15In reply Jesus told him, “Just permit it.
It’s appropriate for us to fulfill everything that’s right.”
So John permitted him.

As you see, when Jesus came south from the Galilee, went to the Jordan, and wanted baptism, John rightly objected. I’ll write it again: Rightly objected. John’s baptism was for sinners. Was Jesus a sinner? Nope. Did Jesus need to repent? Nope; never sinned, so nothing to repent of. He 4.15 So what’d he think he was doing? If a man goes through a baptism of repentance, yet he isn’t repentant at all and feels there’s nothing for him to repent of… wouldn’t we call this hypocrisy?

Well we would, but we’d never call Jesus a hypocrite. So we usually look the other way at this, and give Jesus a free pass.

Yet at the same time, continue to teach that Jesus didn’t need repentance, and underwent baptism so he could be a good example for Christians who actually need to repent. In other words, we teach he was totally behaving like something he’s not—that he was acting like a hypocrite.

Should we be teaching such a thing in the first place? If Jesus is no hypocrite, should we be teaching anything at all which could, on closer inspection, easily make Jesus out to be a hypocrite?

I would say no; and also Jesus has a legitimate, non-hypocritical reason for wanting baptism. Let’s get to that.

When to properly do things for show.

This isn’t the only time in the gospels Jesus does something for show. When he prayed in front of Lazarus’s tomb, he said this:

John 11.41-42 CSB
41So they removed the stone. Then Jesus raised his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you heard me. 42I know that you always hear me, but because of the crowd standing here I said this, so that they may believe you sent me.”

Jesus was saying this for show. And honestly admitting, right in front of everyone, he’s saying this for show. And why—so the crowd would believe. It’s a performance, and Jesus isn’t hiding that fact.

A hypocrite would, and that’s the difference between an actor and a con artist, between a mentalist and a psychic. We know an actor is playing a role; nobody’s hiding that fact. We know a mentalist is showing us a trick; the mentalist isn’t pretending otherwise. Whereas a con artist wants to convince everyone they actually are what they claim to be. A psychic pretends they have actual spiritual powers. One is trying to entertain or demonstrate, and the other is trying to defraud.

Jesus’s baptism is meant to demonstrate something all of us oughta do. Jesus doesn’t need baptizing, but we surely do. And of course if Jesus were never baptized, there’d be Christians who insist we don’t need to ever be baptized either; if Jesus didn’t do it, neither should we. I run into anti-Pentecostals from time to time who reject speaking in tongues for this very reason: The gospels never say Jesus did it, so they insist it must therefore not be important. Doesn’t matter if Paul encouraged it. 1Co 14.5

When people really don’t wanna do something, any excuse will do to get ’em off the hook. Jesus’s example looks like a pretty decent argument in their favor. So Jesus didn’t provide them an out: He got baptized too. Even though we know he didn’t need it. Baptism’s so important for our sake, he went through with it anyway.

He didn’t need to die either. But we know how that turned out.

When Jesus got adopted.

When Jesus came out of the water, the Father adopted him. I’m using that word in the ancient Roman sense. Paternity wasn’t established back then by blood or DNA tests. It was established when a man stepped forward and declared the child was his: “This is my beloved son. I approve of him.” If it later turned out this child wasn’t biologically his, it didn’t matter: The biological father had never made any public declaration, so he wasn’t the legal father. The guy who claimed him, was. That’s that.

The Romans called this adoptio, “choosing.” They put it off till the child reached adulthood—age 13, in those days—and put on adult clothing for the first time. Then the father would declare himself their father, the adoptee would acknowledge it, and the father would change the adoptee’s name (sometimes just their nomen/“family name,” sometimes their entire name) to his. Romans could, and did, adopt anyone. Usually for purposes of inheritance. In fact Romans could be adopted by multiple people: Their biological father who raised them, and later some uncle who wanted them to be his heir, and maybe even later a family friend who wanted them to be his heir. Romans could wind up with loads of “fathers.”

Israelis did this at circumcision. The purported father, or his stand-in, named the boy. At Jesus’s circumcision, Joseph named him Jesus. Mt 1.25 Mary called him Jesus’s father Lk 2.48 because he is Jesus’s legal father—in every sense. Not his stepfather, not his foster father; his father. Feel free to correct those Christians who don’t care to acknowledge Joseph’s paternity because they feel it lessens Jesus’s relationship to his biological Father. His biological Father, after all, sent an angel to tell Joseph to adopt him. Mt 1.21

The other thing about Roman adoption: A man could adopt someone at any age. Julius Cæsar adopted his grandnephew Gaius Octavius in his will, when the young man was 19. Jesus was, as Luke reckoned, about 30 Lk 3.23 when the Father publicly declared him his beloved son and, yep, adopted him.

Mark 1.10-11 KWL
10Coming straight up out of the water,
Jesus sees the skies split apart,
and the Spirit, like a pigeon,
descending upon him.
11A sound is made, coming from the skies:
“You’re¹ my beloved son.
I approve of you¹.”
Matthew 3.16-17 KWL
16Once baptized, Jesus comes straight up out of the water.
Look: The skies are thrown open.
Jesus sees God’s Spirit descending like a pigeon,
coming upon him.
17Look: A sound from the skies saying,
“This is my beloved son.
I approve of him.”
Luke 3.21-22 KWL
21While baptizing all the people,
as Jesus is baptized and praying,
God happens to throw open the skies,
22to descend the Holy Spirit upon Jesus,
in bodily form like a pigeon,
and to make a sound from the skies:
“You’re¹ my beloved son.
I approve of you¹.”

The John version of the story is uniquely different, so it gets its own article.

Jesus is the Father’s begotten son, but when the Father publicly declared Jesus “my beloved son,” and approved of him, in front of John and everyone else that day, this was a very public adoption as his son. So, Jesus has two adoptive fathers: Joseph of Nazareth, who adopted and raised him; and our heavenly Father, who sent and adopted him. (If you wanna get technical, three fathers, ’cause Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit. Lk 1.35 But let’s put that one aside, and save it for when you wanna blow people’s minds for fun.)

I realize I’m using the word adoption, but I don’t mean adoptionism, the popular heresy that Jesus was just an ordinary man, but the Father loved him so much he turned him into the Son of God, the Messiah, the savior of the world, and all that other jazz. Jesus was the Son already. Jn 1.1, 14 He did become Messiah by being anointed with the Spirit and power; Ac 10.38 he did become our savior by dying for our sins. But the Father didn’t promote him to sonship. Just acknowledged it.

As for the rest of us, we’re not the Father’s biological kids; we’re his creations. He made us, not fathered us. That is, till he adopts us. Then we become his literal children Jn 1.12 —well, in that Roman legal sense. This is the very same sort of adoption Paul regularly wrote about. Ro 8.15, Ep 1.5, etc. It’s similar to Jesus’s, in that Jesus was already the Father’s Son, but we weren’t God’s kids yet. But it’s the same as Jesus’s in that we now inherit God’s kingdom same as Jesus.

In our culture, adoption is very different, which is why we’re not always aware how important adoption is in the New Testament. There are certain people who claim to be Christian, who think one’s adopted children aren’t really their children; who will insist on calling these kids “your adopted kids” instead of “your kids.” They invent some ridiculous stigma to adoption which Romans didn’t have, God doesn’t have, and we ought not have.

Jesus’s “hidden life.”

As I touched upon after Jesus returned to Nazareth from temple, this story is the first we’ve seen of Jesus since age 12. What’s he been up to? Christians call this private bit of his life, the history which is really none of our business, his hidden life.

Gnostics and Historical Jesus fans have tried to fill in these hidden-life years with all sorts of wild guesses: He traveled to foreign lands, met other religious gurus, learned all sorts of magic tricks, developed his psychic powers, picked up some deep and freaky secrets, and used them to teach and do miracles. That’s the stuff we’ll find in apocryphal gospels and gnostic gospels: Legends of Jesus’s childhood, in which he made birds out of clay and brought ’em to life on sabbath, or withered the hands of schoolteachers who dared try to teach him the alphabet. Stories of Jesus’s deepest darkest mysteries.

Goofy stuff. ’Cause the stories in those apocryphal gospels sound like pagan myths. But Jesus’s behavior in the New Testament sounds like the acts of prophets in the Old Testament. Jesus’s teachings in the gospels sound way more like the Hebrew religion than any pagan religion. His healings and exorcisms looked just like other healings and exorcisms the ancient Israelis were familiar with. In order to claim Jesus was a gnostic magician, you have to rewrite his story entirely. As they did.

The reason for the hidden life? There are two. First of all, as I said, it’s none of our business. Jesus and his family were permitted some privacy to live normal, ordinary lives. Jesus got to experience humanity without our crazy scrutiny over every single last one of his actions. We misinterpret him enough as it is with what he intentionally taught. Imagine how much we could get wrong by hyper-analyzing all the stuff he casually did.

Second, it’s irrelevant to the purposes of the gospels. The gospels are about Messiah. And technically Jesus wasn’t Messiah till the baptism stories, when the Holy Spirit came upon him. Designated successors didn’t officially become the successor till they were anointed. Jesus was certainly destined to be Messiah, but wasn’t Messiah till the Spirit made him Messiah.

Before this point, Jesus worked as a craftsman (Greek τέκτων/tékton, usually translated “carpenter”) which was either his career or his day job. He might’ve already been a teacher in synagogue—but then again, maybe not yet. He might’ve concentrated his time on providing for his family. He might even have married and had kids—though because the gospels never mention any such thing, likely not. (The very idea of Jesus as a first-century husband and father bothers some Christians ’cause they think it makes him sound too human. But that comes from an old heresy called docetism—that Jesus only looks human but isn’t really. Having kids wouldn’t mean Jesus isn’t God. But since it didn’t happen, it’s a moot point.)

With Jesus’s anointing, the hidden life ended. Now Jesus would proclaim the kingdom—in word, and with mighty deeds. As he did from then on.