The Irreverent Jordan River

In the summer of 2017 I took off the hats of wife, dog owner, and senior seminarian, and flew to the Holy Land to wear the hat of a pilgrim for three weeks. Our days were filled with Mediterranean food, long walks through the old city of Jerusalem and the surrounding countryside, a swim in the dead sea, and holy and mischievous fellowship time with my fellow pilgrims.

On a sunny Wednesday afternoon we drove to the Jordan River. Like many of the holy sites I encountered I had my own expectations and my own images of what these sites were going to look like, many of which took me by surprise. The Jordan River was no exception. We took a left off of the main highway down a gravel road, which dead ended into a dirt parking lot. Trees and wild grasses blocked any view of a river, but if you listened closely you could hear running water in the distance. We began walking down a muddy trail. There were piles of trash and abandoned liquor bottles strewn about. When we got to the bank there was an old abandoned maroon couch just downstream. There were cigarette butts and old fishing lines all along the shoreline and to say that this was not the holy Jordan River experience we were all anticipating is an understatement.

It was all very shall I say, irreverent.

But we dutifully formed a semi-circle on the shore and one of our leaders led us through a renewal of our baptismal vows. He gathered a few small olive wood branches from the shoreline and enthusiastically splashed us from head to toe with river water. Afterwards we were invited to step into the water if we desired. Most, but not all, of us began to remove our socks and shoes, roll up our pant legs and began wading into the muddy water. We splashed around, we felt the mud beneath us squish between our toes, and watched as birds, irritated at our trespassing, squawked their way past us in search of their lunch.

That’s when we heard the strange noises. Distant booms began to be heard. Every few minutes another thunder like sound could be heard across the blue sky. We were just north of the sea of Galilee, near eastern border of the country. What we were hearing were bombs going off in the neighboring country of Syria. Suddenly the river changed for us, or rather we saw it with a new clarity. We all had our own assumptions of what the river Jordan was supposed to look like, we recalled our deeply rooted biblical images of Jesus’ baptism, with a dove swooping down on all but serene and heavenly scene. John the Baptist as a wild man, inviting crowds dressed in white to wade into a crisp clear river, with a 4 part gospel choir singing in the background. But the truth is the Jordan River we encountered last summer, with its debris, abandoned furniture, and muddy water, is much closer to the Jordan River of 1^st century Palestine than any of our preconceived Christian fantasies could have guessed. 

Our scene in Luke opens with a list of characters known for war and violence, many of whom end up having first hand responsibility in the death of either Jesus or John. They represent abusive power and a corrupt political and socioeconomic system. It is situated within this cultural moment that the Word of God comes to John in the wilderness. The wilderness is a desolate, uninhabited place. In the ancient world it was considered one of the few places that God could still be heard clearly without the corruption that comes with urban living. It is here that John receives a message from God just as prophets of old, and John begins preaching throughout the region near the Jordan. He preaches of a baptism of repentance and the forgiveness of sins. He quotes Isaiah, “Prepare the way of the Lord…”

Isaiah was preaching to the people in exile hoping to return to Jerusalem and it would have resonated in John’s time as well. The people are waiting to be redeemed, waiting for the salvation of Jerusalem from the hands of the Romans. As john called people to the river he was calling them to get ready and to be prepared. Things were going to change, God was on the way.

And this God that was coming, is still coming. When we were on the banks of the river we realized how parallel the times are. John was engaging in a counter cultural movement that aimed to lift the lowly and cast the mighty from their thrones. My pilgrimage group gathered in a place full of political tension, only a short distance from a war zone in order to ritualistically remember our baptisms. One might hope that things would be different, that the disenfranchisement of that age would incomparable to how far we have come. That every child would be fed, every person housed, every medical need met. It might be tempting to fall into despair, that there is not enough good or power to overcome the blatant unfairness that envelops the world with regularity. But to do so would be to give up on the Christian Hope. Something new is about to happen John cries, so you better get ready. To be Christian is to break yourself open to the possibilities that might suddenly appear before you, even among a world seemingly lacking in justice and care.

John in the gospel Luke pushes against the status quo of his day by reminding us that earthly rulers will pass away, and that we must prepare our hearts for the reign of God that on its way.

My pilgrimage group pushed against the status quo by promising to continue to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ, even in a world where that expression has been hijacked from its true meaning or forgotten or abandoned by those who have witnessed its hypocrisy.

And you, my siblings in Christ, you too are already a part of this story. For it is not just people who flocked to the river in John’s time, or pilgrims journeying through distant lands that live the prophet’s words. Anytime a group of faithful individuals gather to pray, asking for grace and forgiveness, the status quo is shaken. By your presence here today you are saying no to the shackles of injustice and saying yes to the ethics of equality and peace. By your presence you are acknowledging that God showed up, and that God will do so again.

“Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

God is coming. Get your heart ready.

Amen.

References:

Feasting on the Gospels--luke: A Feasting on the Word Commentary. Westminster John Knox, 2014.