Perhaps the one thing everyone knows about an iceberg is that most of the ice is under the water. I looked this up to see quite how much ice we’re talking and according to the U.S. Geological Survey it’s about 90% of the iceberg. Nine tenths. So, as any sailor knows (or, since I grew up a hundred miles from the sea, as anyone who’s ever heard of the Titanic knows), the ice above the water merely indicates the presence of something much, much bigger that lies beyond our sight.

Every baptism, indeed every sacrament, is an outward and visible sign of an inward and Spiritual grace. As with the iceberg, the visible sign may seem a small thing, a few words and some water. But to those who have faith, this sign indicates the presence of deep things taking place below the waterline. Nine tenths of a baptism is out of sight.

Epiphany, the season of manifestations, points us to moments in the life of Christ when, so to speak, the sea swells and our heads are caught, just for a moment, below the waterline. We catch a glimpse of things we may not have reckoned on being there and as we return, gasping, to the surface, we see the tip of the iceberg in a new light.

Christ’s baptism, the focus of the first Sunday of Epiphany, is one such moment. It is surprising enough that it happened in the first place. The very last person who needs a baptism of repentance is Jesus, who never committed any sin, who never said an untrue word, who never thought an impure thought. Indeed, Jesus is able to offer the true baptism in the Holy Spirit and cleansing fire of which John’s baptism was the merely symbolic forerunner. It would have done John far more good to be baptised by Jesus than for Jesus to have been baptised by John. So John’s protest is understandable “I need to be baptised by you and do you come to me?”

But the strangeness of the event in itself is quickly eclipsed by what happens when Jesus is baptised. The heavens are torn open, the Holy Spirit visibly descends like a dove and the voice of God himself proclaims ‘This is my son whom I love, with him I am well pleased!” Our over-familiarity blinds us to the staggering nature of this event. It must have been an overwhelming experience. John, who by this stage must have baptised hundreds, or probably thousands of people before, has just been afforded an unexpected glimpse below the waterline. Jesus, the carpenter from Nazareth, is more than meets the eye.

But what exactly are we seeing? God’s speech consists in a tapestry of Scripture references that highlight aspects of Jesus’ identity. In Matthew’s account, ‘this is my son’ is an allusion to Psalm 2, identifying Jesus as the Davidic King, who will be enthroned as King over the rebellious nations. ‘With him I am well pleased’ alludes to the Servant Song of Isaiah 42, identifying Jesus as the one called by God to bring justice to the nations, to be a covenant to the people and a light to the Gentiles, a saviour bringing salvation, freedom and healing to the world. Between them, ‘my beloved’ may be an allusion to the binding of Isaac, Abraham’s only son, whom he loves, thus hinting at Jesus’ calling to die as a sacrificial offering.*

This is an identity which will play out across the Gospel narratives. But even at this stage it is one thick with the theme of the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles. The Psalm 2 King is told ‘ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance’. Being a light to the Gentiles is central to the Servant’s calling. As Israel’s Messiah, Jesus is the one in whom God’s dealings with the nations reaches its full fruition.

Yet even beneath the surface of this Epiphany there is a still more glorious revelation. Drawing back to the widest camera angle, we see in this scene a revelation of the divine Trinity. Father, Son and Holy Spirit are all revealed in a moment. The Father declares his eternal love for the Son. The Son is revealed as the beloved one, the only begotten, the heir of all things, the one who perfectly reflects the light of the Father’s glory. The Spirit proceeds from the Father to the Son as the embodiment of God’s life as love and gift. For a moment in time we glimpse the glory of the divine life and love that exists in all eternity.

Jesus’ baptism has much to teach us about our own. It is no coincidence that Matthew’s account of Jesus’ ministry opens with this Trinity unveiling baptism and closes with Jesus sending out his disciples to baptise the nations in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. The two are intimately linked. As the collect from Common Worship** for Epiphany I reminds us, Jesus’ baptism reveals Jesus’ identity and calling and in so doing, reveals ours also.

Eternal Father,

who at the baptism of Jesus

revealed him to be your Son,

anointing him with the Holy Spirit:

grant to us, who are born again by water and the Spirit,

that we may be faithful to our calling as your adopted children;

through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,

who is alive and reigns with you,

in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and for ever.

Through our union with Christ, we share in the love of the the Triune God. God accepts us as his adopted children, we are his sons and daughters whom he loves, with whom he is well pleased. We too experience the pouring out of his Spirit on us, as the personal embodiment of his love and gift. Through the union with Christ signed and sealed in our baptism, we draw this glorious Epiphany into our deepest identity.

And with it we receive its call. None of us are called to be Jesus, but all of us share in Christ’s call to be a light to the nations***, extending God’s reign to the ends of the earth through our sacrificial service. Sharing in the identity revealed in baptism entails being faithful to the call we receive in baptism.

A glimpse below the waterline reveals the nine tenths of an iceberg that is usually invisible. But any who pass near it would be wise to remember that it is always there. Jesus is not more glorious or divine at his baptism than at any other point. Everything he does reveals God. As one ancient author put it, he does divine things humanly and human things divinely. But these glimpses of Epiphany glory help us to see and to believe in his divine glory in his every action. Jesus, the carpenter from Nazareth, is always more than meets the eye.

*I am grateful to my friend Niv for reminding me of this allusion.

** Though I anticipate spending the vast majority of the year, and certainly of the major fasts and feasts, with the BCP collects, I’ll be using the Common Worship ones for the rest of Epiphany season. This is for several reasons: 1) The liturgical calendar develops over time, so the 21st Century Common Worship makes much more of a thing of Epiphany Season than the 17th Century BCP and its collects are much more geared towards the themes of the season. 2) This is a blog about the Calendar, not the BCP, much though I love it. 3) I don’t want to seem to be curmudgeonly and while there are times when I strongly prefer the BCP, much of Common Worship is actually quite good. 4) I just like them. Apologies to non-Anglican readers for this bit of in-house business.

***Think of the juxtaposition of Jesus’ claim, on the one hand, that he is the light of the world and on the other, that his disciples are (John 8:12, Matt 5:14) or the way Paul and Barnabas apply the servant song’s call to be a light for the Gentiles to themselves (Acts 13:46-48).