Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Well, I didn't plan it this way, but here I am earlier than expected. My timetable, as you know, has shifted a couple of times, due to developments over which I had little control. As Joseph says, in reflecting upon his brothers' intended act of abuse that eventually became the occasion for the nation of Israel to be blessed, "God meant it for good."

Indeed, I believe that in this entire very difficult process, God has intended good for me, for Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, and for St. Thomas Lutheran Church. All things, we are reminded in scripture, work together for good for those who love the Lord.

My sense of God's intentionality in this call became even more palpable when only a couple of weeks ago, Kaye and I discussed my beginning today instead of next Sunday; and then I looked at the readings selected for this day on which we commemorate the Baptism of our Lord.

This word from the gospel seems eminently appropriate as we begin ministry together. For this story in Luke's gospel carries the significance of an inauguration. The verse that immediately follows our reading states "Now Jesus himself was about thirty years old when he began his ministry."

Jesus started his mission and ministry in this world by going down to the Jordan River and wading in. He commenced by getting his feet wet.

That seems to me pretty much what we're doing together today. I'm getting my feet wet among you. I'm wading in, getting the lay of the land, looking for signs of God's presence.

You too are, no doubt, testing the waters. Attendance is usually a bit inflated in the early days of a pastorate. Even those who may have felt on the margins come to check out the new guy (or woman, as the case may be). There is a time of hesitancy, of getting accustomed to the temperature of the waters, of building readiness and trust. There may even be an expectation that the heavens will open and that the Holy Spirit will descend among us like a dove, bringing a new spirit-a new lease on life. Or not.

Jesus is getting his feet wet, and so are we. We're stepping up to one another, stepping in to this unfamiliar territory, and hoping we don't drown. Well, at least, I am.

But, on the other hand, I hope we do all drown.

Perhaps you see where I'm going?

Of course you do. Because we will all drown.

Jesus, as an example for us, enters into the waters of the Jordan. Yes, he begins with a foot, but then he enters fully into the river, symbolizing the death that we all die to sin as we are baptized. He enters for us, drowning himself in sin, so that we may enter behind him and drown, and yet live. In baptism, we die to sin and rise to newness of life.

I believe that God's intention in having me start today rather than next Sunday is that we need to hear this particular word as we make our new beginning together. God wants us to know that while we came thinking that we might just get a toe a bit cold in this unfamiliar and threatening river of newly defined congregational life, God would have us go much further than a toe or a foot. God wants us to plunge right in!

As we get started, I'm convinced that God wants us to hear this clearly. The water may seem cold. It may seem foreboding. It is certainly uncharted. And yet, God wants us to take the leap, make the dive, practiced or not, comfortable or not.

Because God wants us to drown together. And that's okay. God is assuring us this morning that God is there, lifting us up, granting us forgiveness, giving us new life, giving us a new start. Every week at holy communion. Every day of our lives. And without the plunge, there is no emerging. Without the death, there is no resurrection. Without our full participation in the life that Jesus offers us here through the Holy Spirit, St. Thomas will stay at the edge of the river, ever testing the possibilities, ever fearing to step in.

Baptizatus est. "I am baptized!" It is the cry of Martin Luther when plagued by the devil. It is our cry as we dip our toes into the waters, then submerge our spirits and our lives in the Word of God, and arise therefrom rejoicing.

Did you pay close attention to my letter accepting your call to serve as pastor of St. Thomas? Here's the part I want you to consider in the context of today's Word from God:

As you have called me, so now I extend a call to you. Work and celebrate with me in partnership. Maintain, along with me, a sense of humor and perspective. Be filled with God (the meaning of "enthused"). Be constant in prayer.

I truly look forward to being a partner with you in your portion of God's vineyard, and I know that the Holy Spirit will bless us richly in years to come.

Our marking today the inauguration of Jesus' ministry long ago and the beginning of my time with you is also an occasion for you to embark upon what may be for you a new way of thinking about how you engage in ministry here.

You have extended a call to me. But you too are called. You too experience a vocation at St. Thomas. God is beckoning also to you this day.

Jesus' baptism, recorded for us by Luke, involves a calling:

And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased. (v. 23b)

That same voice speaks to you as it speaks to me. This water-testing is not only an exercise in courage. It is also an experience of call, of vocation. Today we hear God say directly to us "You are my daughter," "You are my son." "With you I am well pleased."

The concept of vocation was one of Martin Luther's big ideas, and Luke's story invites us to consider its meaning. It isn't simply about a job or career; it is much more than that.

"The notion that it is God who calls seems a commonplace piety when we are talking about 'church vocations,' calls to 'ministry' or 'the religious life,' but it sounds more like an afterthought or theological overlay in regard to ordinary life. Vocations are the way we make our livings, and avocations-the things we don't have to do-provide our recreation.

"Of course, some of us have been so schooled in a doctrine of vocation that we know better and would hasten to include any and all virtuous jobs in his world under the heading of God's potential callings. The work of the waitress and the plumber is as precious to God as the labor of any preacher, physician or scholar. Although this teaching itself isn't bad, it can sound unconvinced and patronizing. Class condescensions and resentments lurk here; this theology can too easily obscure issues and excuse offenses.

"The language of vocation is problematic.... We do not have just one vocation, and we struggle to balance different responsibilities and relationships. Anointing one of our vocations as holier than another may be a dangerous thing. Is my ministry more a vocation than my marriage, or my responsibility as a citizen less than my relationship to my children? The claims of others call out to us, often by name, and often out of genuine need.

"And what if vocations seem to change in the course of life? What one once felt called to do or be no longer seems right. What then? Sometimes, of course, the covenants of the past must hold us in faithfulness. But sometimes new callings come and lives are remade in response. What of those who are adrift, unsure of any calling? Our lovely imagery of vocation then seems naive, better suited for the supposed stability and limited choices of an earlier age.

"But consider this: the calling of Jesus is not about a job or a career. It is not a word of mission, sending him into the future. Not at the outset. The word of baptism is first of all about the delight of God in this beloved, this chosen, this child called by name. Not a call to do, but a calling that names....

"As for Jesus, so for us. Our first calling, the baptismal call, is the one that simply loves and names: You are my child. I delight in you. The words embrace us and promise to hold us. This is where it begins, and this is also, we dare claim, the last word, the one that holds our future. Yet in between that beginning and that end, this baptismal call will often become a call to action. It will mean mission and ministry and all kinds of tasks. Anointing is a sign of blessing, but it is also a commissioning. As for Jesus, so for us.

"Not many years after my welcoming into the world, I learned to heed my mother's voice calling me home from play to meals, homework and chores. If love is unconditional at its root, it entails the desire and expectation of life true to its vision, living up to the good that was seen. My parents and teachers and scores of others called me and sent me to the vocations of my life. These vocations have come through human voices and relationships, institutions and communities; they call to me as a husband, father, son, pastor, citizen, colleague, friend. The calls are many, but their beginning is one.

"...The tasks and duties matter, but what abides-our identity, our belonging, our hope-is heard here by the waters. You are my child, beloved, delight". (John Stendahl. "The Outset," Christian Century, Dec. 24-31, 1997, p. 1219)

Today, we get our feet wet in the waters of new ministry together. We are reminded that this day is an extension of baptism and the vocation that flows from that sacrament. We hear again God's delighted and naming embrace of us. We look forward to getting wet, living the wonderful life of the Spirit.

So. Let's take the plunge! And may God be with us whatever challenges and opportunities God offers. Amen.

May the peace which passes all understanding keep our hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus our Lord, unto eternal life. Amen.