The Glory of Solidarity
An Epiphany Meditation on Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
This is the second article/chapter of an Epiphany series called Hidden Glory. I am making this article/chapter freely available to everyone as well. The rest of the series will only be available to paid subscribers.
FINDING OUR PEOPLE
It only took a few minutes of being in the room for me to realise that I had found, in at least one sense, ‘my’ people. For a short time, I was invited to work with Ekklesia, a theological think tank at Stellenbosch University in South Africa’s Western Cape. Apart from when I did my undergraduate studies, I had never spent much time in academic circles. I have always loved research and writing, but I was not attracted to academia as a career. The opportunity to work with academics to create practical theological resources and training, though, excited me. It was when I arrived at a planning meeting for an upcoming conference, and participated in conversation and debate with the scholars in attendance, that I realised my sense of belonging in that environment. The few years that I was part of that team were among the most stimulating, creative, and fun in my life.
In spite of the growing individualism in much of the western world, we need connection. We all want to be seen, known, and loved for who we are, and we all want to belong with others who welcome and include us in networks of mutual care. Even though we may prefer solitude over socialisation, we all need at least a few friends with whom we experience resonance and connection. As C.S Lewis wrote:
Friendship arises out of mere Companionship when two or more of the companions discover that they have in common some insight or interest or even taste which the others do not share and which, till that moment, each believed to be his own unique treasure (or burden). The typical expression of opening Friendship would be something like, “What? You too? I thought I was the only one.1
In recent times, two great challenges have emerged, among others, in global society. The one is the sense of increasing fragmentation and polarisation in our political, religious, and social environments, and the second is what has been labelled an “epidemic of loneliness”2 in our personal lives. When we feel isolated or alienated from other people, our mental health is severely harmed. There is a reason that solitary confinement is recognised as an inhumane and dehumanising punishment. Whether we like it or not, we need one another. We need those who will be witnesses to our lives. We need those who will stand with us in our grief, pain, joy, and celebration. In times of oppression, injustice, and social upheaval, we need to stand in solidarity with one another. Without knowing that we are seen and loved as we are, and without the support and protection of those who stand with us in our conflicts, confrontations, and convictions, it is extremely difficult to live fully and freely. This is why our tendency to judge and exclude those who are different from us is so devastating, not just to the individuals involved, but to our society. There is immense power, healing, and glory in knowing that we truly belong personally and in experiencing solidarity collectively.
JESUS IN THE CROWD
When Jesus joined the throngs of people seeking baptism at the hand of John, he was unknown. He had not yet done anything of significance and there was no reason why anyone would have questioned his presence there. But as the Gospel writers looked back on this moment, they saw profound meaning in Jesus’ choice to be baptised.3 John had arrived on the scene as an apocalyptic prophet calling the Israelites back to God’s ways of kindness, fairness, and mutual care. But he denied any suggestions that he might be the messiah. There was one to come, he declared, who would baptise people in the Holy Spirit and fire. In Luke’s narrative, the dove and divine voice confirmed that Jesus was the expected one (see verse 15) — and this scenario is meant to define for us the kind of messiah Jesus was to be.
When he entered the water, Jesus had not yet experienced the dove, the divine affirmation, or being filled with the Spirit. He was just one of many Jewish people who came in response to John’s declaration that a new order was coming into the world — with one significant difference: he was to be the one through whom this new order would be established. As Ronald J. Allen writes, the baptism of John, and the new way of being that Jesus would teach and demonstrate, were communal.4 Who Jesus was, what he did, and what his baptism means for us all have social and relational importance. And it is in this detail that we begin to see the nature of Jesus’ messiahship.
When we bring all of these details together, Jesus’ baptism speaks into our polarisation, fragmentation, and loneliness. Jesus joined the crowds not to be over them or apart from them, but to be one of them. It was only after his baptism that the divine encounter happened in Luke’s Gospel, which indicates that the divine favour was a response to how Jesus, in his baptism, identified with and stood in solidarity with the people. John’s baptism called the crowds away from defining their identity, spirituality, and righteousness by their Jewish ancestry — which meant nothing in the new order God was bringing into being.5 Rather, he was inviting them to experience a new, all-embracing sense of belonging and to participate in spreading this new order throughout their world. In his baptism, Jesus embodied the value and practice of solidarity that characterised this new order.
WHERE’S THE GLORY?
In the season after the Epiphany, we are invited to recognise the glory of God that is revealed in Christ. When we turn to the baptism story, it is tempting to point to the Spirit, dove, and voice as the signs of God’s glory. But that does not seem to be Luke’s intention. In Luke’s narrative, the baptism is a tiny moment described in just two simple verses.6 What is far more significant is where Luke’s narrative goes after the baptism: into the wilderness (where Jesus refuses to gratify his human tendency to self-protection, self-aggrandisement, and selfishness), and into the synagogue where he claims Isaiah’s Jubilee prophesies as his own. For Luke, the power of Jesus’ baptism — and his whole life and ministry — is in the way he stands in solidarity with poor, marginalised, oppressed, and suffering people.
The glory of God, in Luke’s Gospel, is not seen in the water. It is not seen in the dove, or the divine voice, or the Spirit. These things are there to show us that Jesus did not need to be baptised. They show us that Jesus embodied the divine person and purpose. And they are there to leave us no doubt that God’s glory is found when we stand together, when we offer belonging to one another, and when we learn to appreciate our interconnectedness and celebrate our differences as strengths and gifts.
The glory of solidarity is not dramatic. It doesn’t wait for the cameras to arrive so that all can see our magnanimity. It is not about grand gestures. It is about simple ordinary moments of connection. It is about recognising the divine Spirit in one another, even when we struggle with our differences. It is hearing the voice of God express love and pleasure for every one of us. It is to see that Jesus was not baptised for his own sake, but so that we could know our belovedness and belonging.
PARTICIPATING IN DIVINE GLORY
We participate in divine solidarity whenever we share a smile with a stranger, or a game of peekaboo with a child. We follow Christ’s example of identifying with others when we support one another in our families, friendships, neighbourhoods, and societies. We share in the divine glory whenever we look at one another and see, not just God’s image reflected, but a mirror of our own humanity.
We will never know true glory by dividing ourselves up and fighting for dominance. We will never enter into the glorious experience of God’s reign if we idolise our individuality, self-sufficiency, and separateness from those who are different from us. But when we can look at another person, as Jesus did, and stand with them in whatever baptisms they may be facing, that’s where God’s glory will be revealed. The Spirit, the dove, and the voice were not gifts to empower Jesus to fulfil his mission of solidarity with all of humanity. They were signs that Jesus, in this one simple act of baptismal solidarity, had already fulfilled the unifying, healing, reconciling, and restoring mission of God’s reign.
C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves. I have long since lost my copy of this book, but it was originally published by Harcourt Brace in 1960. This quote appears in the chapter entitled ‘Friendship’.
See Elizabeth M. Ross, What is Causing Our Epidemic of Loneliness and How Can We Fix It?
Researchers share what Americans have to say about social disconnection and potential solutions, on the Harvard Graduate School of Education website, October 25, 2024, https://www.gse.harvard.edu/ideas/usable-knowledge/24/10/what-causing-our-epidemic-loneliness-and-how-can-we-fix-it, (Accessed 20 December 2024)
The baptism of Christ is one of the few events recorded in all four Gospels.
Ronald J. Allen, Commentary on Luke 3:15–17, 21–22, on Working Preacher, January 10, 2016, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/baptism-of-our-lord-3/commentary-on-luke-315-17-21-22-3 (Accessed 19 December 2024)
See Luke 3:8
The actual baptism is only described in one sentence. It is unclear whether the prayer, dove, Spirit, and voice happened as part of the baptism experience or later.
Beautiful and insightful. Thank you, John!