At Bethlehem, the promise is revealed, but it is still just a promise: just a little child, a polished arrow which was, as yet, hidden in the quiver of God (Isaiah 49:2). We join Mary and Joseph in wondering at the little boy who “must be about his Father's business” (St. Luke 2:49), but in truth, his Hour had not yet come.
At Jordan's stream, the reality begins to take shape: “The Kingdom of God is at hand,” as Jesus would soon preach. The serious work of life in the Kingdom must now begin, for us as well as for the one we follow. It is a path which leads directly to Golgotha. St. Mark's Gospel, especially, makes this clear; it can be read as a straight and unwavering progression from the Baptism to the Cross, and beyond to the Resurrection. For there is a sense in which Jesus of Nazareth embraced death in his Baptism, as we do as well in the spiritual reality of the sacrament. We must, day by day, die with Christ in the waters of baptism, and rise with him to newness of life (Romans 6:4).
This Sunday's organ voluntaries for me are the two settings of Christ unser Herr zum Jordan kam, from the Clavierübung (BWV 684 and 685). Here is a performance of the larger setting (BWV 684) on a Silbermann organ similar to the instruments that Bach would have played.
Bach gets it, as did Martin Luther before him with the underlying chorale text and tune (number 139 in the Hymnal 1982). The counterpoint is intense and unstoppable, depicting (it seems to me) the Savior who “set his face like a flint" toward Jerusalem (Isaiah 50:7, St. Luke 9:51).
It is for music like this that I revere Bach above all other composers. He enters into the spiritual heart of the great chorale tunes, and not just the tunes but the texts, and the Scriptural truths that they interpret. And he writes music that takes the listener and performers into a deeper understanding of the mighty acts of God. The Clavierübung is a companion to the Greater and Lesser Catechisms of Martin Luther, and Bach's music in these chorale settings always has catechism behind it. In this music, Bach is teaching us what the Baptism of Christ means.
I cannot let the day pass without mention of that blessed saint and martyr, William Laud, who went to the scaffold on this day, January 10, in the year 1645. He is one who understood how serious a thing it is to follow Christ. Almost his entire public life as bishop and Archbishop of Canterbury was lived in bitter controversy. The Puritans sought to destroy the true and Catholic faith and practice of the Church. They had stopped their ears to the reasoned arguments of Richard Hooker. They refused all attempts at compromise. Laud, alongside King Charles the Martyr, were among the few who withstood them. The two of them sought to maintain the church's order, vigorously enforcing the laws of the land without respect of persons.
According to James Kiefer's excellent sketch of Laud, the “without respect of persons” part of it was what cost Laud his life. Kiefer writes:
Under English Law, it was part of Laud's office as Archbishop to maintain order and to punish offences against the peace of the Church. He made it his practice to proceed not only against poor and obscure offenders, but also, perhaps especially, against rich and powerful ones. It is well that men should be equal before the law, but his integrity on this point ultimately cost Laud his life.
Laud was also the prosecutor of record in the trials of those who published seditious or violent and abusive attacks on the doctrine and discipline of the Church, and the Puritans produced an abundance of scurrilous attacks on those who disagreed with them, which were duly punished, with Laud taking the responsibility.
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