Sermon Archive

(Inspiration and material drawn from Howard Thurman, Deep River and the Negro Spiritual Speaks of Life and Death [Richmond, Indiana: Friends United Press, reprint 1990], pp. 63-76)

Physically, the Lower Jordan river, where Jesus was baptized, is a rather shallow and torturous stream. Along much of its route through the rock-desert valley that stretches some sixty-five miles from the Sea of Galilee in the north to the Dead Sea in the south, all of it far below sea-level—along much of its route, this river meanders placidly in wide, serpentine arcs; yet, at some 20 or more places, the Jordan passes through boat-gashing rapids. Yes, physically, it is a shallow and torturous stream.

But metaphysically, the Lower Jordan has come to stand, in the minds and hearts of many of us, as a truly “deep” and “saving” river—first, because it was where Joshua and Israel crossed over into the Promised Land following their escape from slavery in Egypt; and second, because, more than a thousand years later, it was where Jesus waded into the water and was baptized and filled with the Holy Spirit, as he prepared to embark on the course of his ministry. Yes, metaphysically, the Jordan is a “deep” and “saving” river.

One of the great flowerings of American literature took place between around 1920 and 1935, during what has become known as “the Harlem Renaissance.” And one of the great literary figures in that movement was Langston Hughes. In 1921, when Hughes was just 19 years old and still a high-school senior in Cleveland, Ohio, he submitted for publication his poem “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” (published in The Crisis: Magazine of the NAACP [editor W.E.B. Du Bois, literary editor Jessie Fauset] June, 1921). And this poem came to have great emblematic significance for the Harlem Renaissance.

Hughes’s poem begins:

“I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older
than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.…”

And Hughes’s poem concludes:

“I’ve known rivers:
Ancient dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”

And in between that beginning and ending, in his central section, Hughes lifts up four rivers of particular consequence for African Americans: the Euphrates, the Congo, the Nile, and the Mississippi.

Now, I would be so bold as to seek to add to Hughes’s list of “ancient dusky rivers” the Jordan, which has proven, time and time again, in the lives of millions of African Americans and millions upon millions of other folk around the world, to be, metaphysically, one of the world’s most soul-deepening streams.

For instance, hear again some words from this ever-so-powerful African-American spiritual:

“Deep River, my home is over Jordan.…
Deep River, I want to cross over into camp ground.”

Now, on the physical level, the river “Jordan” sung of in this spiritual was a code-name for “the Ohio,” or for any other river that formed the boundary between a border state and the North—a code-name for any river across which a slave could flee to freedom.

Yet on the metaphysical level, the river “Jordan” sung of in this spiritual was a code-word for “life in this world,” the life which has to be gone through if one is to reach the heaven that lies at its end.

You see, the physical Jordan, like any river, begins at its source, which is water, and ends at its destination, which is also water. That out of which a river comes is that into which a river goes. And, in between its beginning and end, a river like the Jordan is propelled along its meandering course, with its intermittent threatening rapids, by its current.

In much the same way, the metaphysical Jordan, namely “life in this world,” begins at its source—which is God, our Creator—ends at its destination—which is also God, our welcoming Savior. That out of which life comes is that into which life goes. And, in between this beginning and end, a human life, like the river Jordan, is propelled along “its meandering course, with its intermittent threatening rapids,” by its “current,” that is, in the case of life, by none other than the Holy Spirit.

Yes, life is like a river, for its “current,” which is God the Holy Spirit is that which moves life along its course from its source, in God the Creator, to its destination, in God the Savior.

And where does baptism fit into this “stream” that is life? Well, for all of us—as it was for Jesus—baptism is that point in life’s journey where God the Holy Spirit comes in power to imbue us with the divine energy that can direct the course of our life in positive directions, as we journey from God to God.

For you see, just as the goal of a river is to become fully one with the sea, so the goal of life is to become fully one with Christ. And it is the Holy Spirit given to us in the sacrament of baptism who propels us along our life’s course toward full union with Christ in the “camp ground” that lies “over Jordan,” that is, in the “heaven” that lies at the end of “life in this world.”

Now, in the course of a river’s journey from its source to its destination, dams may be erected that block its flowing to the sea, or earthquakes may redirect its course into a different channel. Yet, through the indomitable force of its current, that river will, nevertheless, reach the sea. As the great mid-20th-century preacher Howard Thurman has described it, “[The river] may twist and turn, fall back on itself and start again, stumble over an infinite series of hindering rocks, but at last the river must answer the call of the sea. It is restless till it finds its rest in the sea.” (Deep River, p. 73)

Likewise, the human life that is empowered by the gift of the Holy Spirit received in the sacrament of baptism—that life may twist and turn, may fall back on itself and start again, may stumble over an infinite series of hindering rocks, but at last that human life must answer the call of God. For it is restless till it finds its rest in union with the fullness of Christ.

So it is the Holy Spirit given to us in the sacrament of baptism who propels us through life’s threatening rapids toward full union with Christ in the “camp ground” that lies “over Jordan.”

And so this morning, I invite you to join with me and others here in renewing your baptismal vows, so that together we may all experience afresh the strength and the power of the Holy Spirit, the One who is carrying us from our source in God to our destination in God along the river of life.

Let us pray: