I recently saw a textbook that attempted to explain John’s baptism in terms of what “water” represented. This won’t work. John didn’t baptize with “water” in general; he baptized with the water of the Jordan.

The Jordan River was the official Eastern boundary of the Promised Land. Even though the Israelites were permitted to take territory on the east side, the Jordan River was understood to mark the east side of the official promise to Abraham. Joshuah led the people of Israel into the Promised Land through a miraculous crossing in which the waters piled up so that they walked on dry ground. At that point they also resumed circumcision, which they had not practiced for a generation.

So coming out to the wilderness and being baptized by John was significant. Among other things, it helps explains why John is identified with Elijah. As I wrote many years ago:

we are explicitly told that John the Baptist is not literally Elijah (John 1:21), but that he fulfills the prophecy that Elijah will precede the Messiah (Mal 4:4-6; Matt 11:14; 17:10-13; Mark 9:11-13; Luke 1:17). But why Elijah and not some other prophet? Why is Elijah singled out as John’s primary prototype? Vos gives some account for this, saying that Elijah is tied to repentance, but this, in my opinion, does not go far enough. Something makes Elijah unique among prophets to be the type of John the Baptist and to foreshadow his role in preparing the way for Jesus.John the Baptist as the Final Moses

Let’s start with some seemingly random observations about John the Baptist. Notice that John confronts a king (Matt 14:3; Mark 6:17; Luke 3:19) and stays in the region of the Jordan (Matt 3:5; Luke 3:3) in the wilderness (Mark 1:4) across from the Promised Land (John 1:28; 10:40).

Now a few of these details do remind us of Elijah. He too confronted an evil king (1 Kin 17:1; 21:17-19) and spent a lot of time outside of Israel proper (1 Kin 17:3, 9). But he also did more. He called down plagues on the Land (1 Kin 17:1), called down fire on his sacrifice (1 Kin 18:38), was fed by angels in the wilderness (1 Kin 19:4-7), and met God at Mt. Sinai (1 Kin 19:8-14).

I don’t think it is too hard for people who know their Bibles at all to begin thinking about Moses when they notice these things. Moses confronted Pharaoh and called down plagues on Egypt. Also, he’s the first person in the Bible to call down fire from Heaven onto an altar (Lev 9:24).

So far, this has been pretty sparse, but I do think that Elijah stands out among Old Testament prophets as a new Moses. No one else I know of was met by God at Mt. Sinai. It is a unique marker in the Bible. Incidentally, both Moses and Elijah end their careers by ascending-Moses up a mountain to die and Elijah in a fiery chariot. In both cases, this happened across the Jordan from Jericho (Deut 34:1; 2 Kin 2:4-8).

There is more to the connection between Moses and Elijah and John, however, when we consider their successors.

Jesus the Greater Joshua

Elisha accompanied Elijah when he crossed the Jordan from Jericho (2 Kin 2:4-8; 15). When he ascended into Heaven, Elisha was granted a “double portion” of his spirit (2 Kin 2:9-11). Elisha then walked through the Jordan on dry ground (2 Kin 2:14)

Centuries earlier Joshua walked through the Jordan on dry ground, leading the Israelites into the promised land to conquer Jericho (Josh 3:14-17; 6). Just as Elisha was Elijah’s successor, Joshua was Moses’ successor. Furthermore, before Moses had ascended to his death, he laid his hands on Joshua so that he “was filled with the spirit of wisdom” (Deut 34:9; Num 27:18-23). Moses also prophetically gave Joshua his new name, which had originally been Hoshea (Num 13:16).

The similarities between Elisha and Joshua also show interesting redemptive-historical contrasts. Elisha, too, marched through parted waters to Jericho. But he miraculously healed the water there so it was fit to drink (2 Kin 2:19-22).

Now in the Gospels, Jesus goes to the Jordan to be baptized by John, and there the Spirit comes upon Him visibly (Matt 3:13-17). Like Moses and Elijah before him, John says that he must become lesser as Jesus becomes greater (John 3:26-30). Just as Joshua entered the Promised Land, leaving Moses behind, and just as Elisha re-entered the Promised Land with a double-portion of the Spirit, so Jesus as the true successor to Moses and all the prophets begins His ministry after being baptized by John (see Matt 11:7-15). Jesus is the true Joshua, going into Israel conquering and to conquer–though here we see an even greater transition from wrath to grace since Jesus conquests were over demons and disease by His word and Spirit, not over people by fire and sword as was done by the first Joshua.

Baptism as ReEntry

The association between John and Moses, Jesus and Joshua will help us understand the meaning of John’s baptism. The Israelites originally entered the land by a baptism in the Jordan and into Joshua (Josh 3:14-17; compare 1 Cor 10:2 & note Josh 5:1-12). The significance of John’s choice of the Jordan River as a place to baptize should not be minimized. It was not a convenient place from which to reach people. The journey to the Jordan-border of the Holy Land must have had some sort of meaning. Why else was John a desert dweller?

People coming to be baptized by John in the Jordan were re-entering Israel. Confessing that they had failed as covenant-keepers, they were getting a second chance before the Day of the Lord.

Once we understand the implications of being baptized in the Jordan, we can extrapolate for Christian baptism that does, indeed, use water in general without reference to a particular river. Once we see the implications of John’s baptism we see that Christian baptism is a boundary marker. It delineates that a person has been officially transferred into the Kingdom of Christ. Inside the Church, we find new life and salvation and reconciliation. For outside the visible Church, there is ordinarily no possibility of salvation. Excommunication, for example, is treated as a handing of a person back to the accuser–Satan–in the hopes that he might repent and return. As Paul writes to the Corinthians:

For though absent in body, I am present in spirit; and as if present, I have already pronounced judgment on the one who did such a thing. When you are assembled in the name of the Lord Jesus and my spirit is present, with the power of our Lord Jesus, you are to deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord.

Outside the Church is the domain of darkness but inside the Church is the Kingdom of light under Christ. Since God has established an actual society to be the new city of  God, it only makes sense that he has established a means for officially ushering those who seek refuge in him across the border from the world to the church.

Take again the doctrine of justification by faith. It is not expressed in the Creed. This of itself makes nothing against it; for the Creed does not pretend to set forth all Christian doctrines; it is an outline simply of what Christianity is in its primary, fundamental facts; leaving room for much to follow in the way of confessional superstructure. It is enough, if the doctrine before us be in the symbol by implication. But this at once serves, as we may readily see, to limit and define at the same time its proper conception. To be true at all, the doctrine must be held in union with the general system of the Creed, and not as something independent of it, and bearing to it only an outside relation. To conceive of justification by faith as a thing having no connection whatever with the objective world of grace brought into view by the Creed, a thing pertaining to the general idea of man’s relations to God in the order of nature, instead of being bound in any way to the mysterious organization of the Church—the common error of the Puritanic mind—is to turn the doctrine into a fiction, which contradicts the symbol, and virtually sets aside its authority, bringing in indeed a new scheme of Christianity altogether. There can be no true faith, in the view of the Creed, which does not begin by owning and obeying the mystery of godliness proclaimed in its own articles; no true justification, which does not come from being set thus in real communication with the objective righteousness of Jesus Christ, as the power of a new creation actually present in the Church. No wonder, the theory which makes justification by faith to be a mere abstraction, and that also which resolves it into justification by fancy or feeling, find little or no satisfaction in the old Christian confessions. Their theology here, most assuredly, is not the theology of the Apostles’ Creed.

John Williamson Nevin, “Thoughts on the Church,” Second Article, The Mercersberg Review, vol 10, pp. 394, 395.

What does the Bible say about works? It is tied, necessarily, to the principle of boasting (Rom. 3:27). In other words, had Adam stood by His own works, he had no obligation to say “thank you” to God, for “thank you” presupposes a gift, and a gift is grace. The Bible contrasts works with election (Rom. 9:11). The Bible treats works as a paycheck in principle (Rom. 6:23; 11:6). If grace is excluded from the Garden, then so is gratitude.

And Eve said, “Adam, let us give thanks to God for our great deliverance!”

“No need for that, honey. I withstood the serpent all by myself. It was my own intrinsic righteousness at work here.”

“But still, Adam, shouldn’t we acknowledge that our obedience was a gift from God?”

“Woman, you clearly don’t understand the deeper issues of theology. No wonder that serpent had you going for a bit.”

“Yes, but only for a bit. God gave me insight to the nature of his lies. I am so grateful, and I think we should thank Him together.”

“But, dear, you are being grateful to the wrong person. We must of course thank God for the Garden, and for the fruit, and for one another. But who should be thanked for this particular act of obedience? Me. Me.”

“Well, I do thank you. But can’t we thank God too? Doesn’t He ordain all things? Shouldn’t we see this obedience of ours as His grace to us?”

“Trust me, Eve. I do know there are subtleties involved. But the only way to preserve a true God-centeredness for all our children in the ages to come is for us to acknowledge that God did not do this. I did it. Me.”

“But I feel so empty not thanking God for this grace.”

“I understand that feeling, at least in part. Maybe we can compromise. When the Lord comes walking in the cool of the day this evening, we can make a point of thanking Him.”

“Adam, that’s wonderful! What shall we thank Him for?”

“Thanks for nothing. But we needn’t put it that way of course.”

Read the whole post by Doug Wilson here.