Jesus’ Resurrection would have been a significant enough event to have heard it. But there were plenty of even lesser miracles that would have been fitting. When Jesus changed water into wine at Cana, for example. When he raised Lazarus or Jairus’s daughter from the dead. Feeding the Five Thousand. Each of those miraculous events would have served as ideal occasions on which the Father’s booming voice of approval could have echoed from the heavens.
Imagine the guests at Cana, gushing over the best wine ever, now realizing that the special occasion just got a lot more special because God’s voice confirmed they were in the presence of God’s Son! God’s approval would serve as the perfect exclamation point after a dead person just came back to life. The leftover loads of fish and bread that surpassed what they had even started with would have made perfect sense to the disciples if God’s voice had immediately emphasized that it was his Son who was responsible.
But it wasn’t any of those occasions on which the “voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased’” (v.17). No, those words were spoken at Jesus’ baptism. An event which, by the way, seemed entirely unnecessary to some, including the one performing the baptism, John the Baptist himself. If anyone should be an expert in who should or shouldn’t need baptism, it would surely be the one whose very title denotes his experience and expertise in the area of baptism. Yet he was the one who was puzzled enough to second-guess Jesus’ request: “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” (v.14). All of this makes us wonder why this event was the one chosen by God to voice his approval.
If we eavesdrop in on Peter’s sermon from Acts 10, he explained the significance of Jesus’ baptism and the events surrounding it: “You know what has happened throughout the province of Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John preached—how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power” (Acts 10:37-38). The Father’s affirming voice was the stamp of approval acknowledging Jesus’ baptism as his anointing into ministry.
Still today, we have a special service when a pastor is ordained or installed. Other pastors join in laying on hands. But at Jesus’ baptism, instead of hands, the Father laid the Holy Spirit on his Son in the likeness of a dove. His baptism was his anointing, his ordination into ministry.
Jesus also provides us with additional insight as to the significance of his baptism. It wasn’t just his anointing. “Jesus replied, ‘Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then John consented” (v.15). Jesus had to “fulfill all righteousness.”
Righteousness. It’s a big word. It’s an important word. In fact, we’d literally be lost without it.
While it’s a little early in the church year for the festival of the Reformation, whenever the word “righteousness” is discussed, it can be helpful to recall the struggle that Martin Luther had with the term righteous in the earlier stages of his life. He knew that only righteous people could enter heaven, since the Bible teaches that only those who are perfect will enter heaven. But, he also knew that all efforts at achieving righteousness on his own were in vain.
This understanding that holiness is required for whatever is in the afterlife is still pretty commonly held to today in a very general sense: good people go to heaven; bad people don’t. But it’s that general understanding that will leave so many in trouble, because “good” is entirely subjective. When our natural inclination is to compare ourselves to the worst in society, people can feel pretty good about themselves. They hold on to a false confidence that they’re good enough to get into heaven. But there are no good people in heaven; just perfect people.
So, we had better make absolutely certain we know how that perfection, that righteousness, is acquired! That’s where Luther struggled. He took desperate measures to do everything he possibly could to achieve righteousness on his own. Do you know where those desperate measures left him? Desperate. In despair. Because by his own experience, he was absolutely convinced that he could never attain righteousness on his own. Indeed, he was experiencing exactly what the Bible teaches about righteousness: “the people of Israel, who pursued the law as the way of righteousness, have not attained their goal” (Romans 9:31).
It seems logical to conclude that, if God gave the law, then abiding by it – doing what it says to do and avoiding what it says not to do – should be the path to righteousness. But, just like the Israelites, and everyone before or after them, the only realization one can arrive at is this: if the law is the means by which righteousness is attained, then no one will ever attain righteousness, for no one has ever come close to keeping the law!
So if righteousness can’t be achieved by keeping the law, but is still a requirement for us to gain access to heaven, then how do we come by it? “What then shall we say? That the Gentiles, who did not pursue righteousness, have obtained it, a righteousness that is by faith” (Romans 9:30). It is not the law, then, but faith by which a person obtains righteousness. Paul repeats this truth extensively throughout his letter to the Romans. “But now apart from the law the righteousness of God has been made known…This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe” (Romans 3:21-22). “To the one who does not work but trusts God who justifies the ungodly, their faith is credited as righteousness” (Romans 4:5).
But, for righteousness to be credited to us by faith, it first had to be attained so that it could be granted to us. That brings us back to the Jordan River. There, Jesus was not only anointed as the One chosen to secure our righteousness, but also took a major step in carrying that righteousness through his baptism. Had the Savior slipped up and sinned or failed to follow through with even the slightest requirement of the law, then he would not have achieved righteousness. And had he not achieved righteousness, then there would be no righteousness to credit to all who believe.
But he did, and so he can – and does. By faith, the righteousness of Jesus is the righteousness of Abraham, Martin Luther, you and me, and all who believe.
So then, where does your baptism come in? What role does it play? Is it an outward act of obedience that shows God our righteousness? That would only make sense if righteousness could be obtained by the law or by any act of obedience. But since we just established that isn’t the case, then our baptism cannot be merely a display of our obedience or dedication, for that wouldn’t carry any weight before a God who only accepts perfection.
No, our baptism is so much more significant than that. Our baptism is like the floodgate that opens up all of the blessings that flow from the righteousness that Jesus already earned for us.
Buried and raised with him? Check.
Washed and renewed? Check.
Forgiven and saved? Check.
A loving Father who is pleased with us? Check.
Jesus’ righteousness had to come by the law so that our righteousness could come by faith. His baptism had to fulfill all righteousness so that our baptism could make us right with God. His baptism was to keep the law so that your baptism washes you from the curse of the law.
Now, wrapped in the double blessing of a baptism that is backed by the Savior’s baptism, we pursue living in the righteousness that reflects the gift of righteousness we’ve been given. Remember what Peter said in his sermon about Jesus’ baptism – that he was “anointed… with the Holy Spirit and power.” Too easily we forget or simply aren’t aware that the same Holy Spirit and power have been placed on us and are in us through our baptismal faith. We are so comfortable defaulting to Jesus’ perfection and righteousness that we fail to allow those blessings to spur us on to continue to pursue righteous living.
We aren’t desperate. We don’t live fraught with despair that we’re not good enough, but are confident that in Christ’s baptismal righteousness, we are perfect! Our lives reflect that appreciation and confidence by looking the part. We don’t settle for walking and talking like the rest of the world, but are eager to pursue righteous living – because that is genuinely what we are in Christ: righteous.
Grace and forgiveness don’t prompt us to lower the bar in our living, but to raise it, to honor Jesus in every possible way by following in his footsteps. Jesus’ baptism – and by extension yours – doesn’t just change our status before God; it empowers our sanctification before him. When we take the time to remember and appreciate the significance of Jesus’ baptism, we more deeply treasure our own. So we raise the bar of righteous living to thank him who is our righteousness.