GETTING TURNED AROUND
Sermontelling Luke 3:1-22 (NL 321)
BIBLETELLING
Below is the Narrative Lectionary passage for the coming week. It is followed by Bruce’s notes on the text which aim at a general understanding of the text and some notes on the structures and techniques used by the Biblical storytellers.
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar—when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, Herod tetrarch of Galilee, his brother Philip tetrarch of Iturea and Traconitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene1— during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas2, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the country around the Jordan, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.3 As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet:
“A voice of one calling in the wilderness,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
make straight paths for him.
Every valley shall be filled in,
every mountain and hill made low.
The crooked roads shall become straight,
the rough ways smooth.
And all people will see God’s salvation.’”4John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.”5
“What should we do then?” the crowd asked.6
John answered, “Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.”
Even tax collectors came to be baptized. “Teacher,” they asked, “what should we do?”
“Don’t collect any more than you are required to,” he told them.
Then some soldiers asked him, “And what should we do?”
He replied, “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely—be content with your pay.”7
The people were waiting expectantly and were all wondering in their hearts if John might possibly be the Messiah. John answered them all, “I baptize you with water. But one who is more powerful than I will come, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.8 His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” And with many other words John exhorted the people and proclaimed the good news to them.
But when John rebuked Herod the tetrarch because of his marriage to Herodias, his brother’s wife9, and all the other evil things he had done, Herod added this to them all: He locked John up in prison.
When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying10, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”11
Luke 3:1-22
THREE STORIES
The following three stories pair well with the Narrative Lectionary passage for the coming week. They are followed by Danny’s sermontelling footnotes which explore the stories’ theological connection to the passage as well as insights into craft and performance. Our advice is to read the story first before digging into the footnotes.
The Antique GPS
Once a man vacationing in the Caribbean was on the beach with a metal detector looking for treasure. All morning long he found nothing but bottle caps and tin cans until around noon, his metal detector went crazy over a certain spot. The man dug and dug until he hit a tiny chest. He opened the chest and found an antique GPS.12
The man marveled at the GPS. It was made of bronze and had parchment instead of a screen. The man was excited. He knew this GPS was from the days of Spanish exploration and had probably been used by pirates.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. How did a GPS device work before satellites and electricity? Magnets, of course.13
The man wound up the GPS using the turnkey on the back. It took a second for the gears and springs to lock into place, and for the magnets to find the poles and for the sun dial and astrolabe to calibrate, but once they did, the GPS came alive. The parchment lit up and little ink brushes began drawing a map of where the man was standing. Then a deep mechanical voice from the bellows of the box asked, “Where goest thou?”14
So the man decided to take the antique GPS for a spin. He placed it on the dash of his car. Again it asked, “Where goest thou?”
The man thought for a moment about where he wanted to go. He knew there was a private beach somewhere on the island where one could lay in a hammock and drink rum while being serenaded by a steel drum band. So he turned the dials and spelled out: ‘Pleasure Beach.’15
The voice replied, “Let us hie to Pleasure Beach!” and the parchment began filling up with directions.
So the man took off in his car, hieing this way and that as the voice commanded. But the man began to be concerned that all the roads they were taking were old and crumbling and they seemed to be leading further and further away from the ocean. After an hour of this, he seemed no closer to Pleasure Beach.
When the man approached a fork in the road, no one was behind him, so he stopped. The GPS was saying, “Turn thee right!”
But the man looked to his right and saw an unpaved road leading to a swampy area. The left turn would take him to the main highway. It was then that it hit him. This old GPS’ software probably hadn’t been updated since the 17th century. It must only know old roads that were once travelled by foot or on horseback. It had nothing useful to say to a modern world of highways and cars. The old GPS probably had its place once, but now it was hopelessly irrelevant.16
So the man went left towards the highway. And as he went, the GPS called out, “Repent! Repent!”
Once the man was on the highway, the GPS said, “Recalculating… Hie two miles to yon exit and repent!”17
Repent? The man thought to himself. He had assumed that this was a cool pirate GPS, but now it was dawning on him that this must be a religious GPS. It had probably been brought to the island by missionaries. The GPS must have had no intention of taking him to Pleasure Beach. It was probably going to lead him to some old Spanish Church or something back in the swamp. But the man hadn’t come to the Caribbean to pray and confess his sins; he’d come to relax and have a good time. The GPS just didn’t seem to understand that.
At this point, he’d already passed yon exit, and the GPS was once again recalculating and calling the man to repentance. But the man was finally seeing signs for Pleasure Beach, so he ignored the voice.
He followed the signs up a mountain. Must be a shortcut, he thought. Now the voice was loud and urgent. “Repent or meet thy doom! Repent or meet thy doom!”
Was the GPS threatening him? The man really didn’t appreciate the GPS’s judgmental tone. As he headed up the mountain, the GPS only grew louder. “Repent or meet thy doom!”
The man felt around for an off switch. There was none. He was tempted to throw it out the window, but who knew how much a rare old GPS was worth? So the man blared his radio to drown out the voice. But even as he sang at the top of his lungs, he could still hear it: “Repent or meet thy doom! The time is nigh!”
When the man saw the sign at the top of the mountain pointing right toward Pleasure Beach, he turned sharply with indignation. His tires squealed, and he hit the gas. The GPS called out once more, “Prepare to meet thy doom!”
But it was too late.
The car went flying off the side of the cliff and it landed in the sea with a crash!
To this day, when locals come off the dirt paths of the nearby swamplands,18 to visit Pleasure Beach, they have no idea that, just offshore, there is a car at the bottom of the sea. But sometimes, as they lie in their hammocks drinking rum, when the steel drums stop for a moment, some of them could swear they hear the faint sound of a distant voice saying, “Thou hast arrived at thine destination.”
~ my own parable
The Samurai
At the top of a snowy mountain, there was a small monastery where Buddhist19 monks spent time in silent contemplation. Among these monks was a Zen master who was known throughout the world for his wisdom. Often, those who were seeking spiritual answers would make the steep climb up the mountain to seek the master’s guidance.
One such seeker was a samurai. The samurai had engaged in many glorious battles and won great honor and fame, but he began to fear for his soul. So, the samurai journeyed to the foot of the mountain and then made the steep climb up to the monastery. When he reached the top, he asked a monk to bring him to the master.
He was led to a temple where the master sat on the floor in deep contemplation. The samurai waited patiently for what seemed like an hour for the master to take notice of him. Finally, he looked up at the samurai and asked, “Why have you come?”
The samurai unburdened himself of the question he had carried all these miles. “Wise one, I have begun to think about the fate of my soul. I wonder if you could tell me about heaven and hell.”
The master, still seated, looked up at the samurai and sneered. “You might as well ask me to explain musical composition to a pig! For that is what you are: an ignorant, brutish beast! Tell me: how many women and children have you slain with that sword of yours? You come here with the blood of a thousand innocent victims on your hands and dare to ask me to explain the mysteries to you? Here: I will give you an answer you understand, pig!”20
Then the master began to snort and squeal.
The samurai’s blood was boiling. Who did this old man think he was to talk to him with such contempt? Then, when the master, still seated, laughed and told him to return to his sty, the samurai lost control of himself. He unsheathed his sword,21 and raised it to strike the master.
“This,” said the master, “is Hell.”
The samurai looked down at the master who sat motionless with a serene expression on his face. Ashamed of how he had acted, the samurai dropped his sword, and it clattered on the floor. Then the samurai fell to his knees and wept as he begged the old man for forgiveness.
“This,” said the master, “is Heaven.”
~ Zen Buddhist Parable
Jesus & Frank
The following are two stories from a sermon entitled “Attending a Baptism” by the great preacher and storyteller, Fred Craddock.22
Jesus
Of all people, the one who should be exempt from baptism is Jesus.23 Why should he not stand high on the bank and watch the others? Why should he not let all the others come for baptism, those who need a second chance, those who messed it up, those who have waded out so deep into trouble that going across and going back is all the same? Let the people who have drifted so far from mother’s prayers and father’s instruction that nobody can help them, let them come. Let the people whose lives are just a tangle of bad relationships, who have messed everything up and out of ambition and greed think they are going everywhere when they are actually just circling the parking lot going nowhere, the people who are rich in things and poor in soul, let them come. But Jesus? Why is Jesus here presenting himself for baptism?24
He is thirty years old. Why is he coming now? We can speculate. In Israel, anyone entering into public life did so at age thirty. Maybe that’s reason enough, I do not know. Maybe in the synagogue, listening to the rabbi read the scripture while others are dozing off, something strikes him and says, “That’s it—now!” Maybe in the afternoons after work in the carpenter shop, Jesus goes for long walks and communes with God and there is this stirring within him. Maybe he remembers something he saw when he was a teenager south of Nazareth. The Romans came in and gathered up some of the men of the town and strung them up on poles just to warn the people that they did not want any trouble, and there is this burning desire for justice and fairness.25 Maybe that is it. I do not know. Maybe it was his mother’s prayers. Or maybe he still remembers when he was twelve years old in the Temple saying, “I have to be in my Father’s house.”
Why now?26
All I know is this: One day Jesus folded his carpenter’s apron, having shaken the shavings from it, put it on the bench, left the shop, and went to the house and told his mother and brothers and sisters goodbye. He made his way through the grain fields of Ezdralon, down through the dark valley of the gap of Jezreel, and presented himself to John for baptism.27 This was God’s will.
On that occasion, we learned a great deal about Jesus. A voice said, “This is my son.” No question about it. This is my son. What does that mean? The line is a quotation from Psalm 2. It was spoken on the occasion of the crowning of the king of Israel, and now it is is quoted at Jesus’ baptism. He is now king. What does it mean that he is God’s Son? Does he go around now in a chariot with silk cushions and wear a crown and say kingly things and elevate himself above the common folk, saying “Don’t touch me—I am the Son of God. I am the king and I say kingly things and make pronouncements. Now I am going to the palace and have a nap and a banquet”?
The last part of the quotation—”My Son, my beloved, in whom my soul takes pleasure”—do you know what that is? It is a phrase from Isaiah 42. It is a line from the description of the suffering servant of God, the one who gives his life.28 It means touching, loving, going, doing, caring for people. Here is my Son, the servant. And so it was. Still wet from his baptism, Jesus left the Jordan and went about God’s business. Every crying person, every brokenhearted person, every hungry person, every diseased person, every alienated person, every suffering person was his business. I am the king? I am the Son of God? Oh, no, no, no, no. What this means is, God’s business is my business. And what is God’s business? To serve the needs of every human being. He is a servant. Did you know that? Well, of course you knew. He actually knelt down and washed people’s feet. The Son of God washed feet.
Frank
In southwest Oklahoma, near the Washita Creek where Black Kettle and most of the women and children of his little tribe were massacred by General Custer’s army when they swept down in the early morning hours on those poor people, a little community is named for the general: Custer City.29 My wife, Nettie, and I ministered there for three years. The population was about 450 on a good day. There were four churches: a Methodist church, a Baptist church, a Nazarene church, and a Christian church. Each had its share of the population, and on Wednesday nights and Sundays, each church had a small collection of young people. The attendance rose and fell according to the weather and whether it was time to harvest the wheat.
The best and most consistent attendance in town, however, was at the little cafe where all the pickup trucks were parked and all the men were inside discussing the weather and the cattle and the wheat bugs and the hail and the wind and whether we were going to have a crop, while their wives and sons and daughters were in one of those four churches. The churches had good attendance and poor attendance, but that cafe had consistently good attendance. Better attendance than some of the churches. Men were always there.
Once in a while they would lose a member there at the cafe because his wife finally got to him, or maybe his kids did. So you would see him go off sheepishly to one of the churches. But the men at the cafe still felt that they were the biggest and strongest group in town, and so they met on Wednesdays and Sundays and every other day to discuss the weather and such. They were not bad men. Indeed, they were good men, family men, hardworking men. The patron saint of the group at the cafe was Frank.30 Frank was seventy-seven years old when I met him. He was a good man, a strong man, a pioneer, a rancher, a farmer, and a cattleman. He had been born in a sod house, and he had prospered. He had his credentials, and all the men there at the cafe considered him their patron saint. “Ha ha,” they said. “Old Frank will never go to church.”
One day I met Frank on the street, and he knew I was a preacher. It has never been my custom to accost people in the name of Jesus, so I just shook hands and visited with Frank. Then he took the offensive. He said, “I work hard and I take care of my family and I mind my own business.”31 He said that as far as he was concerned, everything else is fluff. He was telling me, “Leave me alone; I’m not a prospect.”
So I did not bother Frank. That is why I was surprised, indeed the church was surprised and the whole town was surprised and the men at the cafe church were absolutely bumfuzzled, when old Frank, seventy-seven years old,32 presented himself before me one Sunday morning for baptism.33 I baptized Frank. Some in the community said that Frank must be sick, said he must be scared to meet his maker. Some said, “He’s got heart trouble, going up to be baptized. I never thought old Frank would do that, but I guess when you get scared ...”
There were all kinds of stories.
But this is the way Frank told it to me. We were talking the day after his baptism and I said, “Frank, do you remember that little saying you used to give me so much? ‘I work hard, I take care of my family, and I mind my own business’?”
He said, “Yeah, I remember. I said that a lot.”
“Do you still say that?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Then what’s the difference?”
He said, “I didn’t know then what my business was.”
Frank discovered what his business was. It was to serve human need. So I baptized Frank. I raised my hand and said in the presence of those who gathered, “Upon your confession of faith in Jesus Christ and in obedience to his command, I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”34
~ From "THE CHERRY LOG SERMONS" by Fred B. Craddock.
SERMONTELLING NOTES:
As was the case in the opening lines of Luke 2, the storyteller gives us a picture of the political situation as the setting for his story. If Luke’s primary goal was to fix the actual date of the event, only the the reference to the fifteenth year of Tiberius would have been necessary. Instead, Luke describes the chaotic situation that followed the death of Herod the great. We get a picture of a fractured power structure composed of competing factions.
The office of high priest was nominally held by a single person, in this case, Caiaphas. Annas, was Caiaphas’ father-in-law and the previous high priest, who still exerted considerable influence. During this period, the high priest was selected by Rome, often in response to financial considerations. As with the secular leadership discussed above, listing both men here elicits a picture of a chaotic power structure.
Baptism was practiced widely among the Jews during this period, but usually in relationship to ritual purity. The idea seems to have been to cleanse oneself of the uncleanness contracted by coming into contact with pagans. The forgiveness of Israel’s sins was something only God could do, and would be considered a sign of God’s eminent return as foretold by Isaiah (for example, Isaiah 40:1-2)
Luke here quotes Isaiah 40 in relation to John’s ministry. Mark and Matthew also quote a shorter snippet of this passage in the same context. Luke (who probably wrote his gospel a little later than these other authors) extends the quote to include Luke 3:6, which foreshadows the inclusion of the gentiles in the Jesus movement.
Biblical storytellers and the early rabbis often quote a short passage from familiar scriptures as a way of calling the full passage to mind. Luke assumes that his early readers will be familiar with Isaiah 40 as a word promising the return of God himself to set right and rule over his people in Israel. The fact that the gospel writers use this passage to speak of John’s message about the “one who will come after” speaks volumes about who the storytellers believe Jesus to be.
Matthew also tells us about this speech warning of God’s impending judgement. The image of felled trees being tossed into the fire provides a context for John’s later words about Jesus…
The teaching from John that follows from this question is unique to Luke’s telling of the story. The question lets listeners know that those who heard John speak understood the warning he has given them as a call to concrete action
John addresses three groups: the people at large, a group of tax collectors, and a group of soldiers. In each case, he invites those with wealth or status to use these things in a way that benefits their fellow community members at their own expense.
Fire stands as a symbol of divine judgement, as the storyteller has reminded us in 3:9 and will remind us again in 3:18.
Herod divorced his wife, an Idumean princess, to take his brother’s wife as his own. Outside of our scriptures, Josephus also records this teaching of John.
Only Luke mentions Jesus’ prayer in this moment. Placing this phrase here seems to suggest that the Holy Spirit descends in response to prayer.
Luke records these words from heaven as a personal affirmation directed towards Jesus.
As a general statement, comparing the way the different gospel storytellers tell this of Jesus baptism is a very informative exercise. The stories are very similar (except, of course, for John’s gospel!), but the differences between them slant the story’s meaning in significant ways. As storytellers, comparing these stories helps us understand the importance of the details in our stories in shaping the meaning we are trying to communicate.
We have noted Luke’s mention of prayer in this story as an example of the impact of a very short phrase. We might also take a look at how Matthew quotes the voice from heaven in Matthew 3:17 which differs from Luke’s version by only a couple of seemingly insignificant words, but transforms how we understand the event from a word of personal affirmation to Jesus into a sign intended for those gathered to witness the event
The Antique GPS
I’m sure many of us have used the illustration of a GPS when trying to explain that the word repent means to ‘turn around.’ It’s a good illustration. Who hasn’t passed an exit and been told to make a u-turn. I’ve found that with a little creativity, good illustrations can become great parables. In this parable, the GPS is a stand in for the prophetic call to repentance we find in scriptures such as this week’s NL text.
Now don’t you feel silly.
I hope you can tell that I had great fun imagining what an antique GPS would look and act like. The most important feature though is the archaic KJV-style language. To most people, repent is in that category of old church words that they kind of know what it means but really don’t. When you press a Bible study group on the meaning of the word repentance, you usually get something about ‘being sorry’ or ‘confessing your sins.’ Then someone will say something about ‘changing behavior’ and that’s when you award the prize and tell them that it means to ‘turn around.’
The archaic language allows the hearer of the parable to make that discovery themselves. The GPS is saying repent where we would normally say make a u-turn.
The purpose of ‘Pleasure Beach’ is not that it is some bacchanalian orgy that would doom the man’s mortal soul. I wanted it to sound like one of those relaxing vacation spots that your religious grandmother might not approve of but that most folks in the pews might think, “actually, that sounds kind of nice.”
I call it Pleasure Beach because most of us Christians are conditioned to think of pleasure as being bad, especially when we’re using the word in Church. I want it to be situated right on the line because I want the hearer to think the driver is right. I want them to think that the GPS is trying to take him away from Pleasure Beach because it doesn’t want him to relax and drink a little rum the way many do on vacation.
The driver ignores the GPS’ counsel for three reasons:
He assumes that the GPS’ instructions are outdated and not relevant to modern life and that he knows better.
He thinks the GPS is against him having any kind of fun and just wants him to go to Church.
He thinks the GPS is threatening and judgmental, when it is only trying to keep him alive.
I want each of these to seem plausible in the logic of the story. I also want the heater to think they’re supposed to be on the side of the GPS but really kinda be on the side of the driver.
I toyed with a version of this parable where I started out talking about how now days you can get celebrity voice directions on your GPS. I was going to talk about the Snoop Dogg and Mick Jagger GPS directions that are available and then say, “You can even get John the Baptist…” At that point I would launch into the parable about someone using a John the Baptist GPS.
I just couldn’t quite crack that version, though. The reason I went with the antique GPS was the notion that it would seem outdated and irrelevant. Still, I like the idea of the John the Baptist GPS saying, “Go to the next exit and repent, you brood of vipers!”
This detail is important. The swamp lands would have taken the driver where he wanted to go, just by a safer route. In the end, he didn’t listen to the GPS because he thought he knew better.
The Samurai
This is a Zen Buddhist parable. I have used it for years. I am not bothered by sharing the parables of other religious traditions. I personally look to St. Augustine’s famous dictum, “All truth is God’s truth.” If a parable from another religious traditions points to something that we Christians fundamentally hold to be true (in this case: rage leads to hell and contrition leads to heaven) then we can regard it as God’s truth.
Personally, I have come to believe that in an age of pluralism (here used descriptively, not pejoratively) it is useful to show that there are points of commonality between Christianity and the religions of our neighbors. Especially, when so many young people bristle at exclusive claims to truth. By showing a little humility and admitting that truth is not always a zero sum proposition, we could go a long way to wining over those who describe themselves as spiritual but not religious.
All that said, I don’t want you to get fired. If you are telling this story in a context where the Buddhism thing is going to be a big distraction, make it a knight visiting a hermit in the forest. It’s a tried and true trick. I’m sure folklorist have a technical name for this but it’s how stories jump from culture to culture.
This story is essentially a dialogue. I have given advice in other posts cautioning not to do voices. Voices can be distracting and break the story spell. I’ve been taken out of a story by professional storytellers who render children in high squeaky voices that sound like cartoon mice or use thick southern drawls for their “back woods” characters. This draws attention away from the story and to the storyteller. The other danger is that voices can be offensive. Using an accent that is not indigenous to your culture is never a good idea. So do not try to make this Zen master sound like someone out of a Kung-Fu movie. Please.
Instead of doing voices, I advise to suggest voices by pitching your voice ever so slightly up and down. A great way to get a feel for this is to listen to a good audio book. Because the Zen master is an old man, you could have him talk a little slower and a little higher. And because the samurai is impatient have him talk deeper but a little more quickly. Do this just enough that when going back and forth between the two, there is a noticeable but not distracting difference. Suggesting a voice works well because what you are really doing is distinguishing the voices for the hearer to make it easy for them to image the story. If they are deep in the story spell, they will supply their own voices.
Also, if you imagine the persons face and what they’re feeling as you say their lines, I think you will come to the suggested voice quite naturally. This speech in which the Zen master ridicules the samurai can be quite affecting if you deliver it earnestly without making him sound like an angry fortune cookie.
I have learned never to use props in a story. They are another distracting thing that draws the hearer out of the story they are trying to image. Every time I talk myself into using a prop, I always leave with the feeling that I didn’t quite connect with my audience. I have come to realize that every time, I was working against my own interest.
In all my time storytelling, I have only experienced one exception. I was speaking at a campfire at summer camp and I told this story. I borrowed a friend’s katana blade. It was almost dark and I unsheathed the katana blade. It glowed as it reflected the light of the fire and everyone’s attention was rapt. But even then, I sheathed the blade after showing it to them and before starting the story.
I only brought the blade back out when the story was over and talked to them about putting away their swords.
Jesus & Frank
These two stories are from chapter two of THE CHERRY LOG SERMONS. Fred Craddock was a pioneer of narrative preaching and everything he’s ever written is worth reading. Craddock didn’t just teach that sermons should contain stories but that the sermon itself should be shaped like a story. The sermon shouldn’t just be a series of propositions, it should have tension and movement. It should take the hearer on a journey of discovery.
I chose these two stories from his sermon on Matthew 3:13-17 for a couple reasons. First, they are great stories on their own. Craddock’s telling of Jesus’ Baptism might inform your retelling. There are some great insights into the question of why Jesus was baptized. Likewise, the story of Frank is a great story as well. Though it’s told in the first person, it could easily be turned into a third person story. But the true value of looking at these stories side by side is to see how they work together to share the message of the sermon. These two stories play off of each other in really interesting ways, and by studying them we can learn from the OG sermonteller.
The question that animates Craddock’s telling of the story is the question of why Jesus was baptized at all. It’s a question that comes up in Bible study when reading this passage. Why should Jesus, who is sinless, be baptized?
In kicking up dust about Jesus’ baptism, what Craddock is really asking is why do any of us get baptized? Is Baptism just for people who have made a mess of their lives and need to make a new start? Or is it about something else? Something that includes all of us?
This sentence is one of two edits I made. I did it because Matthew’s Gospel gives us John’s protest and Luke’s does not. The whole exchange, as Craddock wrote it, goes:
Why is Jesus here? That is what John says: “Jesus, you should baptize me. I should not be baptizing you.”
And Jesus replies, “Leave it alone, John. It is appropriate to do God’s will. Let us do it.”
So Jesus presents himself for baptism.
Craddock is referring to a revolt that occurred in Sepphoris after the death of Herod. Josephus reports that the rebellion was the start of the Zealot movement and that it resulted in the city of Sepphoris being burned to the ground and the crucifixions of 2000 rebels. There are reasons for taking Josephus’ account with a grain of salt. First, there is no archeological evidence for a great fire in Sepphoris during the early 1st century. Second, Josephus blames the zealots for the events that led to the Jewish-Roman war (Josephus himself was a Pharisee) so he has ideological reasons to exaggerate their size and importance and to portray their first outing as a dress rehearsal for the Jewish Roman wars. It is most likely that some small rebellion took place and that a band of rebels was crucified as a result. Still, even if this was 20 men and not 2000, the crucifixions would have been a big deal in Galilee and Jesus would have probably seen them as he travelled from Nazareth to work with Joseph in nearby Sepphoris. And they likely would have left an impression on him.
I bring this all up to point out that Craddock keeps all of his research under the hood here. He doesn’t allow his message to be sidetracked by an excursus on Josephus and the uprising at Sepphoris. Instead, he states very succinctly the part that matters and leaves the rest on the cutting room floor. This is good storytelling.
Here is the second edit. Craddock here discusses the question of why now before returning to the story of Jesus. He talks about how when kids ask to be baptized they can’t always articulate why they want to be baptized but he says that’s okay because the Spirit is like the wind and you don’t always know where it’s coming from and where it’s going but to feel it is enough. It’s a wonderful section and I heartily recommend you read the whole sermon but I’m focusing here on how Craddock tells the story of Jesus and how that in turn will inform how he tells the story of Frank.
Read those last two sentences again. Notice the vivid imagery. Craddock casts the story spell by giving us a couple short vignettes in rapid succession. This conveys a sense of epic scope.
Much like he did with the Sepphoris revolt, Craddock manages to discuss two very important passages of scripture without getting in the weeds. There is much more to say about Psalm 2 and Isaiah 42. These are extremely important passages to the development of the messianic ideal. Most preachers would feel the need to dig into these passages and explain them in greater detail. But Craddock knows the important takeaway is that Jesus is a child of God who is about the business of God. This is Jesus’ reason for being baptized. And, as we shall see, it is also Frank’s
Just as he did for Jesus, Craddock evokes a history of oppression and unrest.
Fred Craddock, who we have seen, can be ruthlessly efficient in his storytelling, takes a couple of paragraphs to get to Frank. His hearers have been led through some much more drawn out vignettes that give us a real sense of what the social scene in Custer City is like. What Craddock is doing is showing us what the journey from the cafe to the church will take. What Frank will risk. He doesn’t have to walk through the valley of Jezreel to be baptized but it won’t be a simple thing either. He will have to give up his membership at the cafe on Sunday mornings.
I mind my own business is a very important line. It sets up the big realization that will come at the end of the story. But Craddock doesn’t want to draw attention to the line either. He doesn’t want the people listening to know that ‘Frank’s business’ is what the story is about or they’ll jump ahead of him and think to themselves, “I’ll bet old Frank is about to find out what his business really is.” Great storytellers, like magicians, use misdirection. Craddock buries the line in a set of three:
I work hard, I take care of my family, and I mind my own business.
Because the mind my own business shares the spotlight, it appears no more important than the other three. Also, Craddock doesn’t let business have the last word. He quickly buries it with the line: Leave me alone; I am not a prospect.
This way, business is not ringing in the audiences ear when the curtain closes.
The community is asking, why Frank; why now? Which is the same thing that was asked of Jesus in the previous story.
Notice how Craddock is echoing the Jesus story. Frank doesn’t come down during the last song and ask to be baptized. We’re not told of his discussion with the Pastor before being baptized. We’re not even treated to his words or the sight of him with tears running down his face. We’re simply told, as we were of Jesus, that Frank presented himself to be baptized. Craddock never mentions Jesus in the story of Frank but through his use of parallel language, he evokes the previous story. Fred Craddock is a big believer in not spoon feeding the congregation the meaning of the sermon but leaving them with a little something to chew on and figure out.
Frank articulates the message of the sermon: baptism is about being about God’s business. Just as Jesus was baptized so that he could begin to fulfill God’s purpose, so too was Frank. Our Bishop in the Holston Conference, Bishop Wallace-Padgett said something similar to the class of ordinands last year. She said:
“Whenever I visit with churches and introduce myself, people usually ask me to describe when and how I received my call to ministry. I always tell them: I received my call to m ministry at my baptism like every Christian.”
The story of Frank and Jesus are separated in the sermon by a short move pondering the meaning of remembering your baptism. Craddock suggests it means remembering we are God’s children and we are about God’s business. When he reaches the end of Frank’s story, he ends the sermon with a single sentence:
Do you remember that?