ACT THREE
Matthew 3: 13-17
by Dr. David Rogne

The audience has been gathering for a long time--for more than a thousand years in fact. They have been frequently restless; lacking understanding of what was going on, wanting their money back when they haven't liked the show. They have already seen two acts of the play. There have been numerous scenes and frequent changes of character. The storyline is harder to keep track of than in a daytime soap opera. Many who looked like promising leading characters have played their parts, suffered some convenient accident on stage or off, and disappeared from the list of characters.

The long-running play has been called "Salvation Drama", but the major character has yet to appear. Adam, the first character introduced looked pretty good, flitting across the stage in his altogether. But when he got involved with that woman and the snake, it was evident that his days were numbered. Noah offered some possibilities, but when he started making wine and sampling too frequently, it was apparent that they would have to carry him from the stage. Moses was quite popular with the audience. The audience loved it when the ground opened up and swallowed his detractors. But even his Charlton Heston demeanor diminished after spending a hundred twenty years in the same part. King David won the hearts of everyone. He was a hometown boy who made good. Mighty in battle, too. But that business with Bathsheba indicated a tragic flaw. Isaiah was appealing as a prophet. He seemed to be of noble blood and to be in tune with God's expectations, but somebody put him inside a tree and dispatched him with a saw. There was Jeremiah, but he was such a sob-sister that nobody was sorry to see him disappear into Egypt. There had been that dark time in exile in Babylon when the audience really expected the hero of the story to be revealed, but no one of heroic proportions emerged.

Now that the curtain is about to go up on act three, the audience has all kinds of images of what the main character should be like. A kingly warrior like David; a sharp politician like Solomon; someone who could stand up to kings like Elijah; perhaps a Russell Crowe-type with the strength of Samson, smiting a thousand of the enemy with the jawbone of an ass.

When the curtain finally goes up, there is John the Baptizer, looking for all the world like some eccentric hippie, eating health food, wearing an animal skin, hair uncut and poorly groomed. At first the audience boos and hisses and tries to gulp away its disappointment; Clint Eastwood he is not. But when John opens his mouth, they realize that he has something to say, and while he scares them silly with his blistering tirades, he offers some escape through repentance and baptism. Even people from the audience flock from their seats to do as he says. He is not what they expected, some say, but he has such a compelling voice and such a convincing message, that as they get closer, they ask him, "Are you the One we have been expecting, the one who's going to make things right?"

 "No", says the Baptizer, "I'm just preparing the way. There is somebody coming after me who is so far above me that I can't even touch his shoe laces." The man in the camel skin doesn't notice it, but a lot of people give a sigh of relief when they hear that the Baptizer is not the expected one. He's a nice guy and all that, but he is a little bit heavy on the doomsday stuff and he doesn't seem to care much above having any fun. "I baptize with water," says the Baptizer, "But when the real hero comes, he will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire." It is stunning imagery and those who have been waiting for so long shudder with excitement at the prospect of what will happen to the unrighteous in that baptism of fire. It will be more important than ever to be numbered among the good guys when that day comes, they reason, so thousands of people flock into the river for baptism, there to demonstrate their repentance and their desire to be saved from the wrath to come.


The audience is now at fever pitch. Many of those who have been baptized quickly return to their seats, still squeezing the water from their soggy garments. This part of the play is like an old fashioned revival meeting. The audience can get in on the act. Finally, the long-awaited one is about to arrive and they want to have the stage clear in order to get a good view of him, so they scurry back to their seats.

As they wait, a rather average-looking man steps into the river and wades up to the Baptizer. "Hey, get out of the way," some shout, "We are waiting for the Messiah and you're in the way." Some who are sitting close can tell from his accent that this one speaking to John is from Galilee. He says he wants to be baptized by John. John seems to be disturbed by that. "It is I who should be baptized by you", John says. Those sitting close can see that the Galilean is that young preacher, Jesus, from Nazareth, the fellow who was a carpenter until recently. While John protests, the Galilean says, "Let it be so for now. It is fitting to fulfill all the expectations of righteousness." It seems like the whole country has been swept up into John's revival, and Jesus apparently wants to add his approval, to say that this is a step in the right direction for everyone. It's a sign of wanting to get close to God.

As the water is poured over the Galilean, John shouts to the audience, "Hey, you people, listen up. This is the one I was telling you about. This is the Messiah, the Deliverer, the one who will save us." "Baloney", says the crowd. "He isn't even as likely a candidate as you are," someone says to John, and the crowd laughs. "At least give us James Bond." they say. "We need somebody who not only can take care of himself, but who can take care of us' too." "This one is just like the rest of us." "He's not even a star. He's an unknown." "We've never seen his name in lights before." "This is salvation drama?" they say. "What poor type-casting." "Some of the earlier heroes have had more potential than this one. How is he going to save anyone?" Even John, who was now making the introduction was eventually to wonder whether he had made a mistake.

After Jesus had begun his ministry, and John was brooding in jail, he said, "Now wait a minute. Maybe we have the wrong man. Maybe we should keep on looking. Do you think you've got what it takes, cousin? Are you really Messiah material?" But for now Jesus is at center stage, John has pointed him out, and the crowd is wondering how he got the part.
At that moment there is a voice from the wings that says, "This is my beloved Son." A knowing look passes from eye to eye in the audience. "So that's it. The Producer's son. No wonder he got the part!" "We might have known." "And do you recognize the lines of the introduction?" they say. "Borrowed straight out of the second Psalm. Words which any of us would recognize as addressed to the Messiah." The one at center stage recognizes the words, too. Standing there, with water dripping from his hair, he recognizes the words used at the coronations of kings. What looks like the waters of baptism, a simple religious ceremony identifying him with the religious aspirations of his people, becomes a crowning moment, announcing to the world that he is somehow fit to rule.

Three years later someone will ask him if he is a king, and he will have to answer, "My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would fight, that I might not be handed over..." (John 18:36) and no one will fight.

Here is the one who 18 years before had acknowledged that he had to be about his Father's business. For 18 years he has been keeping his peace in Nazareth, busy about the work of his earthly father while he ripened, matured, thought about the work of his heavenly Father and what it would require of him. Now, with the ministry of the Baptizer and his calling of the nation to repentance, the time seemed to be right to embark on his own mission in behalf of God's Kingdom. So there he stands now, at center stage, with nothing but his humanity, eager to bring people under the kingship of his Father, but with no army, no weapons, no organization, and hardly anybody who takes him seriously.
It is then that further words came from the wings, "This is my son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased " (Matthew 3:17) The audience knows where those words came from, too: written in the 42nd chapter of Isaiah, they refer to one who would be the servant of the Lord. The Producer is announcing


his pleasure with the one he has chosen to play the part, but the audience is up in arms. All these years they have been waiting for a hero, and what they get is the announcement of a servant! Servants don't have power! Servants aren't heroes! How can you make a satisfying story out of this?

Those same words of Isaiah say that the Lord's servant will not cry out or lift up his voice. He will be so gentle that he will not break a bruised reed. He will be so mild that he won't blow out a sputtering candle. The audience has been expecting Arnold Schwarzenegger, but they are getting Mr. Peepers! What about all those centuries of build-up? "A star shall come forth from Jacob and a scepter rise up from Israel." (Numbers 24:17) What about, "His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Might God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." (Isaiah 9:6) Was that just media hype? "Away with ‘servant'. We've had our fill of servants. We want a general," they say.

The words from off stage have not been lost on the subject at center stage either. He, too, knows the scriptural sources of these words. The Son and the servant are to be one and the same person, he discovers. True sonship means obedient service. He has been designated as the Son, not for power and glory, but to be a servant in the Kingdom of the Father. And there is more: that servant idea from Isaiah culminates with the passage about one who suffers: "He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities, upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed." (Isaiah 53:5) The ideas of Messiah and Suffering Servant, coalesce in the young preacher's mind. He is aware that this starring role will not pay, it will cost.

As he is about to step out of the river a strange thing happens. A dove, a bird of gentleness and peace alights upon him. To the audience it is inadequate. An eagle they could understand. Even a duck with a $100 bill would have been a better omen. But a dove? The Galilean, however, is aware of much more. The Spirit of God has touched him. He is empowered, not with might, but with conviction, with fortitude, with resolve.
He must still give it more thought, but even as he leaves center stage and makes his way up the bank of the river, there are ominous signs. The skies darken and there are drum rolls in the distance. The place called Calvary is there too. At the moment, it is not even known to the audience, but its name already appears in the script. And backstage, far behind the backdrops for upcoming scenes, the more alert in the audience can just barely distinguish the unmistakable form of a cross, waiting in the wings.

As the curtain closes on this scene, many in the audience make their way to the refreshment stands. "It'll never rate a Golden Globe," says one standing in the popcorn line. "I don't know," says a young woman whose hair is still wet," I got so engrossed in the baptism scene I went forward myself. I guess I'm just emotional. It spoke to me." "I appreciated the sense of foreboding created by the closing drum roll," says another. "But did you catch a glimpse of that cross in the wings? I can't imagine what part that will play." "I can't either," says another, "I'm not much good at symbols. I don't get the point. I mean, why would anybody who knew he was a child of God consent to be a suffering servant? To me it just doesn't make sense."

How about you? Does this ongoing drama mean anything to you? If so, the Producer has a part for you to play as well.