John Thomas, the general minister and president of the UCC, tells a story of his experience traveling the streets of Accra, in Ghana, West Africa. Thomas had traveled there for a meeting of the World Alliance of Reformed Churches, and during his stay, he found himself stuck in the mid-day traffic jam that clogs the streets of the city. Each day, the hot, dusty streets fill with buses, motorbikes, cars and bicycles, as the teeming mass of people moves slowly toward their destinations. Thomas observed as we was sitting in his car a young girl, perhaps twelve years old, moving through the streets with a basket full of small plastic bags of water, and she was wandering between the buses and the cars, selling the bags of water for a few coins to the hot and thirsty travelers that were stuck in the streets. At one point, she moved toward a bus, and reached up to the windows to collect the coins and pass the water to the riders. As she was collecting her money from one of the passengers, the bus began to lurch forward as the traffic moved. She reached out with the bag of water, and strained toward the window. The bus slowed, then lurched forward again. Finally, as she stretched out her arm, the arm coming out of the window met hers, and the passenger took hold of the water, and was refreshed. “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters,” says the prophet Isaiah, “and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which does not satisfy?” Come to the living water, and receive the cleansing presence of God. Come to the waters.

We find ourselves confronted with some powerful images in this Epiphany season: water, spirit, light, dark. These are in many ways the essence of human life, images that evoke for us the heart of our existence. As Jesus descends into the Jordan River and the heavens open above him, we are confronted with perhaps as many questions as answers. This season might not be the one that we think of first, and it certainly doesn’t get as much attention as Christmas and Easter, but in many ways these days of light are among the most profound moments in the story of Christian faith. Jesus appears on the scene as a stranger from a poor backwater, and yet as he descends into the water, the very presence of God among human beings is revealed. And the voice from heaven proclaims that this is the beloved Son, and in him God is well pleased. These are words of comfort, words that echo the voice of the prophet Isaiah, “do not be afraid, for I am with you…I have called you by name, and you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I am with you, and the flame shall not consume you…you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.” Do not fear. Do not be afraid. You are loved by God. Time and again throughout his ministry, Jesus offers these words to us. They are words that we need to hear, even in our age of self-help and self-esteem. We know that most people long to hear these words, long to be comforted and to know that we have a companion on the journey of life…a journey which often takes us into the darkness.

It’s no mystery to most of us that human life is often lived in the darkness. We are all too well aware that death and uncertainty, that pain and confusion, that loss and betrayal are all around us. Human life is dominated by confusion and by fear. Fear is all around us, whether used by governments seeking power and control, or whether used by those closest to us—fear dominates our lives. It doesn’t help that we live in what one theologian calls the “officially optimistic society.” We live in a culture that thrives on denial. I’m ok, you’re ok, the mantra of an earlier generation, is still alive and well today under more sophisticated slogans. We are taught from our earliest memories to trust in progress and the promise of technology. Technology will save us, technology will find ways to overcome everything that might stand in our way. Onward and upward, every day in every way, we’re getting better and better. The GE corporation even advertised itself many years ago through the words of its spokesman, a washed up actor who would later enter politics—“progress is our most important product.” Yes, friends, this is the slogan of our society in many ways. We live in an age of denial. There is nothing that cannot be overcome through our ingenuity and our cleverness. One only has to look at the funeral industry, with all of its euphemisms to realize that we as a society do everything we can to cover up and deny the unpleasant realities of life. But in a post-Auschwitz world, we no longer have the luxury of living as an officially optimistic people. Some people might say that September 11^th was our wake-up call as a society. And perhaps that was true for a few people, but for most of us, life has not really changed that much. Can you remember what we were urged to do in the days immediately following the attacks, what government officials told us to do to help the nation? We were told to go out and spend money, to put money into the economy, to spend and get back to doing what we had done before. The answer to one of the darkest days in our history was to be good consumers, to keep up our conspicuous consumption—in effect, to mask, to deny, to revert to our official optimism. Yes, human life can often be a time of darkness and uncertainty. Despite our best efforts at optimism, the reality of the world will sooner or later break through.

But Jesus offers us a new way to be in the world. Jesus offers us a new hope in the face of our darkness. In the coming of Jesus into the world, we hear again the ancient words of the prophet…”do not fear, I am with you. I have called you by name, you are mine.” This is why the season of Epiphany offers us such good news. This is the season of light, the time when we pray anew that God would lighten our darkness. I am reminded of the words to that old Christmas carol that we had the opportunity to sing recently—“yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light; the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.” Into our dark streets, the light of the ages shines forth, to give us light and hope for our journey. It’s important to emphasize that it is not a light that denies that darkness, it is not a light that seeks to be pretend that the darkness was never there—it is the light that gives us the ability to see, even in the midst of the darkness, with confident faith that the darkness is not eternal. The stars shining above give us hope that a new day will dawn, the day of God’s eternal light. In the meantime, we have our way lightened, and we live in faith—as the great Danish theologian Soren Kierkegaard once said, “faith sees best in the dark.”

And this is the good news of Jesus’ baptism. It marks the moment when Jesus enters his ministry, decisively breaking with every other expectation on his life, and entering a new way of living—willing to go into the darkness, knowing that the light of God would lighten the way. The baptism of Jesus is symbolic of the moment when Jesus enters into the messiness of human life, not denying it or putting on a false front, but entering into the path that would take him ultimately to his death. And it is into that same path that Jesus calls us to follow. For make no mistake, baptism, in spite of all the ways that we have forgotten its real meaning, is an entrance into the way of the cross. Most of the time baptism becomes a moment to beam at how adorable the baby is, and it is often seen as a dedication of a new life. But for all of the overlays that we have given it, it is in reality a sacrament of death. Death to the old ways of life, so that we can live into a new way. When we are baptized, we die with Christ, and are raised with him. We enter the way of the cross, which is not a way of denial and official optimism. It is nothing less than the path of discipleship, the way of the cross—the way that enters fully into the darkness of human life with the confidence of children of God, knowing that we bear the light that brightens the way, that is the hope of a world plunged into darkness and fear. The words of Jesus today are a word of invitation to us—to follow him, to bring his light into a world that desperately needs it. And that light is the hope that can calm our fears and give us a way forward, entering the darkness with confidence that the darkness is not eternal, but the light of God’s new day is coming. Thanks be to God. Amen.