That Water Burns!

Luke 3:7-18
Advent 3
December 12, 2021
William G. Carter

John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” And the crowds asked him, “What then should we do?” In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.


The southern end of the Sea of Galilee empties into the Jordan River. There is a place there, visited by pilgrims from around the world. The buses park outside. After an admission fee is paid, you enter the site through the gift shop. (That’s one of the realities of the Holy Land: there are thousands of gift shops.) After weaving through the aisles, passing up olive wood creche sets, Dead Sea bath salts, and forty kinds of incense, you pass through the glass doors – and there is the Jordan River.

It's an impressive location. Beautifully landscaped. Clean. Not a palm frond in the river. And the tour guide never bothers to tell you that you are seventy miles north of the spot where John the Baptist did his work. It’s way south, near Jericho, not far from the Dead Sea. But they don’t tell you this, and the tourists come, step into the river, take their photographs. And when the visit is done, they leave through the gift shop. Back and forth, past the olive wood crosses, the postcards, and the t-shirts that read, “I was baptized in the Jordan River.”

I saw this water bottle and decided to purchase it. There’s a picture of John the Baptist on the front. I asked the salesclerk, “Is this water from the Jordan River?” “Oh yes,” he replied, “from the Jordan River. It’s holy water.” So I packed it in my suitcase and brought it home. It remains on the top shelf of the bookcase, near the Bible dictionary, and the samples of frankincense and myrrh.

One day, I got to try out the spritzer nozzle. One of our outspoken church folks had paid me a visit. He was a man well known for his opinions, often shared generously. I won’t say anything more than his name was Ed. He stopped in to make a speech about something or other. Taking a breath, he looked up from his chair, saw the bottle, and asked what it was. So I went over, picked it up, and told him the story. “Does it work?” he said. What? “The spritzer with the holy water. Does it work?” So I aimed it at him and went psst, psst.

“Wow,” he said, “it’s going to burn.” We both broke out in laughter. I always thought I should make a sermon out of the story. Today’s the day. Holy Water, from the Jordan River, with John the Baptist – and that water burns.

It’s not the heat, of course, but the impact. All the accounts of John the Baptist tell us about the crowds who made their way to the Jordan River. It was a national event. Everybody was affected. They came in the expectation of the Messiah, the long-imagined deliverer who would lift them from oppression and turn around the fortunes of the nation. 

John dressed like one of the prophets who announced him. He lived simply in the desert, in austerity, not luxury. He embodied the closing words of the last book in our Old Testament, where the prophet Malachi declared, “Behold, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord” (4:5).

And the people came. God was breaking in from the desert. God was present in the fire of the word that John preached. He called his listeners a bunch of snakes. He called them out for avoiding the fiery judgment of the Lord. He took them off at the knees if they thought they could stand on their prominence or good breeding. And he called them into the water to invite God to wash their sins away.

What sticks out in this account is that baptism is merely the beginning. It’s not the end. It’s not the goal. It’s the first sign – the wet sign – of everything that must follow. In the church, we practice a Jesus baptism – that is, a Trinity baptism, not a John the Baptist baptism. The difference is we believe the Messiah has come. In covenantal obedience we offer ourselves and our children to the new Dominion of God where John was pointing.

Yet there is an identity to be claimed. A life to be lived. A faithfulness congruent with the calling of God for all of us.

John Burgess wrote a book about this, which he titled After Baptism. John teaches at our Presbyterian seminary in Pittsburgh. He knows all too well our tendency to sentimentalize our baptisms. As he notes,

The pastor sprinkles a few drops of water on the baby’s head and parades her up and down the aisle. Those in the pews smile approvingly, as the organist finds the register with tinkling bells and plays, ‘Jesus Loves Me.’ But baptism is not simply a gentle anointing that makes everything about that baby innocent and clean. Baptism is also a drowning and dying. We have every reason to be terrified by it… (so) it is not inappropriate that a cute little baby dressed in a white linen dress should now holler and scream as she comes to new birth in God’s kingdom. None of us takes on a new identity without some kicking and screaming.[1]

You might say the water burns.

A couple of months ago, a pastor of a nearby church was awakened at four in the morning. Somebody was pounding at the door. That was strange, since he and his wife live out in the hills. Peeking through the window, he recognized the man. But he didn’t like the tone of his voice. And he didn’t know yet the man had just attacked his own father after waking him from sleep. All he knew is this man was pounding at the door, getting louder. Then it sounded like he was trying to break in.

With this, the pastor and his wife ran into the bedroom and locked the door. Just in time – the intruder smashed through the door, screaming and bellowing, calling out for the pastor. Well, he and his wife grabbed their phones, dialed the state police, and escaped to a neighbor’s house. The state police arrived quickly, and after some resistance from him, arrested the intruder.

Now, that’s a frightening event. It sounds totally random – except for this: the pastor’s wife told the newspaper that the man had been baptized by her husband that morning.[2] Baptized! Do you suppose it’s possible that some time passes before a baptism will take hold?

I’ve wondered about this. In the early church, one of the leaders advised those who were newly baptized. He said, “You were taught to put away your former way of life, your old self, corrupt and deluded. And you were taught to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4:22-24).

To put it another way, it’s not enough to simply get wet. True baptismal water has the power to burn, to singe away the bad habits, the selfish assumptions, and the destructive actions. There is a holy life to be lived after we climb out of the water. There is a righteousness that reveals the transformation that God is stirring in our lives. Yes, God loves us as we are – but never calls us to stay that way.

The Messiah is at hand. What does that mean? In the days of John the Baptist, it meant, “Turn away from your sin, change your heart, step into the water, and then keep moving toward God’s light.” The righteous life is not static. It’s far from finished. “The Holy One is coming,” John announced, going on to say, “Prepare yourselves for the Messiah to rule over all things.” Live a life that is congruent with your baptism.

Then, as now, it’s worth asking, “So what should we do?” And the Baptizer offered three specific examples:

•  To the affluent: share your coats and food with those who have none
•  To the tax collectors: don’t take more money that amount prescribed
•  To the soldiers: be content with your wages and don’t extort money through threats or intimidation

Did you notice? All three requirements have to do with money and possessions. Sounds like Jesus, the Coming Messiah. When he found his voice, he warned constantly against greed, selfishness, and deprivation of the neighbor. According to Jesus, according to the Gospel of Luke, the kingdom of God is a matter of economics. In God’s kingdom, there will be no hoarding of coats and food, no grabbing what isn’t yours, no cheating of those less powerful. Instead, if you are baptized, you are called to give generously, to share willingly, to love honestly. This is how God treats us; this is how those who are baptized shall treat others.

If you feel challenged by this, it’s because the baptismal water burns. John says, “The One who is coming will baptize all of you with Holy Spirit and fire.” Every selfish inclination will be burned away. Every evil intent will be incinerated. And the Gospel of Luke says, “This is Good News.”

So what should we do? I suppose we could share what we have in our closets, which is something that cuts both ways. On the one hand, there are many who need the very coats and sweaters that we moth-balling. On the other hand, it’s good training for the soul to learn how to live with less. The same goes for food.

And for the tax collectors among us? Well, we only have a few, and they’ve never struck me as particularly greedy. So the Word from John expands to confront all the waste that is manufactured for the holidays. It’s the same thing Lucy has been saying to Charlie Brown for the past 56 years: “We all know that Christmas is a big commercial racket. It’s run by an eastern syndicate, you know.” Conspiracy theories aside, abundant life is rooted in the joy of giving, not the greed of grabbing.

So let’s consider the invitation from our Mission and Justice committee this month, to share Christmas with a stranger, to show love to those whom we have not met yet. Our Narthex is filled with invitations to make abundant life abundant for all.

And then for all those Roman centurions who can hear John speak: be a good steward of your power. Use it to lift up others, rather than to keep them down. Learn contentment, as a kingdom alternative to the hunger for acquisition. God is the giver of every good and perfect gift; we do not have license to steal candy canes from children. Or rent money from those working two jobs. We are only given permission to help them.

And let me tell you one thing more, a bit of personal confession. Remember that day when I squirted old Ed with the holy water? Well, I don’t remember the specifics of the conversation that day, but I will tell you old Ed was one of the many people who called me to a life of integrity and generosity. I miss him, but I still hear his voice.

I hear him speak whenever one of you speaks up for those who are overlooked,
whenever one of you punctures the illusions of suburban well-being,
whenever one of you says, “Can’t we stop thinking so much about ourselves
and do something to empower the hungry, the lonely, and the left-out?

That’s when I hear Ed speak,
That’s when I hear John the Baptist speak,
That’s when I hear Jesus say, “Whatever you have done for the least of these, you have done it for me.”

And in those moments, if you’re listening,
you will hear that baptismal water sizzle and burn...to the glory of God.
And that’s good news.

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(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.

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[1] John P. Burgess, After Baptism: Shaping the Christian Life (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005) p. 3

[2] “Newton Twp man charged in assault of father, break-in at neighbor’s house,” The Scranton Times-Tribune, 16 September 2021.