I'd written this really profound blog entry, and somehow it disappeared when I was putting it online. I'd written about this great article by Tari Lennon at Process & Faith Lectionary Commentary that included these fascinating words:
One of the marvels of Whiteheadian thought is how everything gets used. Nothing is wasted. All of the past is brought forward and inheres in this moment. To repeat the 29th Psalm is to gather up everyone who has said it before us and to give new voice to the visions and beliefs they brought to the recitation. The same can be said about each of the readings. As we bring all of our ancestors forward, the reading becomes an exercise in hallowing and lends itself to a sense of wonder and gratitude. The moment is not about meanings. It is about shared hope.
Whether we are talking about Peter overcoming his Jewish bias to reach out to Gentiles; or “Matthew” seeing the distance between heaven and earth bridged by the relational humility of John and Jesus; or (II) “Isaiah” consoling an exiled and fragmented people with the promise that their suffering will transform them into beacons of justice for the entire world; or the psalmist’s understanding natural occurrences like thunder, lightning, and wind as expressions of God’s creative power, a power God wants to share with people, we are talking about a long history of shared beliefs that change the very way in which we view life and life’s events.
I'd gone on to write about Matthew 3:13-17 that pointed to these really great sources that spoke about righteousness in vs 15:
Girardian Reflections, Paul Nuechterlein
First Thoughts, William Loader
Exegesis, Richard Donovan
Clippings, Chris Haslam
I'd concluded citing sources with these words from Dylan's Lectionary Blog:
When we say that Jesus is God's son, we're also making claims about God.
That's the point that was scandalous almost to the point of blasphemy for many. "Like father, like son," as they say. When we say that Jesus is God's son, going about the family business, we are saying not only that Jesus is like God; we are saying that God is like Jesus (a point that was well inculcated in me by S. Scott Bartchy, my Ph.D. supervisor). We are saying that what Jesus did -- his feasting indiscriminately with Pharisees and sinners alike, his free association with "loose" (unattached) women and taking them into his inner circle as disciples, his refusal to defend his own honor or his families by retaliating, even to the point of his death on a cross -- was God's business on earth. Indeed, we're saying that the best framework through which we can interpret what God's business on earth looks like is Jesus' behavior.
And then, I'd waxed eloquent about the rhetorical use of "righteousness" by so many, possibly including those at the Jordan that day. (And certainly by those who claim the title, especially when I disagree with them.) I'd written wrote this really thoughtful, descriptive piece about Jesus at the Jordan doing what everyone else was doing - following the rules, doing what was "right" to do (in the eyes of his contemporaries and in the eyes of the early church). And then my computer crashed. So there's the synopsis of what I'd written. :) Going on...
And then, the heavens opened. Now, hearts and minds had probably been opened during this ritual before, whether it was during the time of early church, or during the ritual as practiced by John the Baptist and others. But, this time it was different. The heavens themselves opened, and God's pointed toward JESUS as his son. JESUS is the one to watch to see how God works on earth. Not the political authorites, not the religious authorities, not the "experts", not the Pharisees, not even John the Baptist. JESUS. The prologue fades and the story begins. What do we see that's new, even today, in the way that Jesus "fulfills righteousness" completely differently than anyone else? What do we see that's new in the way that Jesus lives his life as God's Son? What does it mean to put our trust in this God that is incarnate not in the Pharisees or the Sadducees, not in Augustus or Herod, not in the scribes or the lawyers, not even in John the Baptist, but in in the God incarnate in Jesus?
