This next project explores a gospel passage in depth, moving from personal reflection to careful study and finally to thinking about how those insights might shape worship and preaching. It involves choosing a passage, asking honest questions of the text, engaging with commentaries and different perspectives, and then considering what the passage might be saying for today. The work that follows is the result of that process — an example of how exegesis can inform ministry
have chosen Matthew 3:13–4:1 because it is a key passage for me when I think about God’s love and about Jesus fully sharing our humanity. In these verses, Jesus steps into the water to be baptised, identifying himself completely with the people he came to save. John hesitates—he believes he is unworthy to baptise Jesus, knowing or sensing who Jesus truly is—but Jesus insists. For me, this moment captures Jesus’ desire to stand where we stand, to experience life as we experience it, and to fulfil all that God has set before him.
What moves me most is the declaration from heaven: “This is my Son, the Beloved.” God publicly claims Jesus, affirming his identity and his mission before he is led into the wilderness. This passage marks the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, and it is often where my own journey of reflection begins—the moment where love, obedience, and divine affirmation come together.
What ideas and actions seem most important, and what else happens in passing?
The central idea of this passage is Jesus’ willing identification with humanity. His decision to be baptised is an action that speaks of solidarity—he steps into the same waters as everyone else, choosing not to stand apart. Another major theme is obedience: Jesus’ insistence that this is “proper to fulfil all righteousness” shows his commitment to God’s purposes from the very beginning.
The moment of divine affirmation is also crucial. God publicly declares Jesus as “my Son, the Beloved,” marking the beginning of his ministry with assurance and identity. This affirmation is followed immediately by the Spirit’s action—descending like a dove and then leading Jesus into the wilderness—showing that Jesus’ ministry is Spirit-guided from the outset.
In passing, Matthew moves very quickly from baptism to wilderness. There is no pause or celebration; instead, the narrative flows from identity and affirmation straight into testing. This contrast highlights that being beloved does not remove Jesus from struggle; rather, it prepares him for it.
What values or perspective might the writer or narrator be trying to present?
Matthew seems intent on underlining fulfilment as a key value in Jesus’ ministry. The gospel often references prophecy, and here Jesus himself speaks of fulfilling righteousness. Matthew wants his readers to see Jesus not as breaking from Israel’s story but as bringing it to its intended completion.
Another value presented is the authority and identity of Jesus. Through the narrative structure—John’s hesitation, Jesus’ insistence, and the heavenly voice—Matthew builds a layered picture of who Jesus is: humble, obedient, beloved, and divinely commissioned.
Matthew is also presenting a perspective about the nature of God’s calling. The beloved Son moves almost immediately into hardship and testing. This suggests that divine approval does not shield a person from difficulty; instead, it equips them for the journey ahead. The writer’s perspective is that God’s purposes unfold through obedience, humility, and trust.
How do the characters relate to each other, and how do we feel about them?
John and Jesus have a relationship marked by reverence and humility. John recognises something profound about Jesus and feels unworthy to baptise him. His reluctance makes him relatable and sincere—someone who wants to honour God properly. Jesus’ response is gentle but firm. He does not elevate himself above the people or above John; instead, he steps into John’s ministry and affirms it by participating in it.
The relationship between Jesus and God is made explicit through the voice from heaven. God publicly claims and delights in Jesus, which gives the reader a sense of intimacy and divine approval. It is a moment of profound tenderness and affirmation before the hardships to come.
The Spirit’s role is also relational, guiding Jesus into the next stage of his calling. We feel an unfolding sense of purpose—Jesus is not abandoned but led. The interplay between these characters creates a picture of cooperation, humility, and divine direction.
Use Bible Commentaries
The NIV Compact Bible Commentary treats Matthew 3:13–4:1 as the second introduction of Jesus—this time not as the infant of earlier chapters but as the adult Messiah, ready to begin the work God has given him to do. Although the commentary devotes only a small amount of space to this section, it identifies this moment as the point where Matthew’s Gospel truly begins to gather momentum in its presentation of Jesus’ ministry. Jesus’ baptism is shown as an act of obedience undertaken “to fulfil all righteousness,” with John’s initial hesitation highlighting Jesus’ greater authority and purity. The descent of the Spirit and the Father’s proclamation—“my beloved Son”—publicly affirm Jesus’ identity and commission. Immediately afterward, the Spirit leads him into the wilderness, emphasising that the path of divine calling includes both affirmation and testing. This discussion appears on page 438 of the commentary which is written by John H. Sailhammer.
William Hendriksen’s 1989 edition of Exposition of the Gospel According to Matthew offers a far fuller and more detailed treatment of Matthew 3:13–17 than concise commentaries such as the NIV Compact. His commentary on this passage spans pages 211–218 of a volume that devotes more than a thousand pages to Matthew as a whole. Hendriksen emphasises that this moment marks Jesus’ first public appearance as an adult, leaving the quiet years in Galilee and arriving at the Jordan with the deliberate intention of being baptised. He notes that Matthew carefully records the circumstances of this event and places it historically around A.D. 26 or 27, locating it within the active period of John’s ministry.
A major focus for Hendriksen is John’s shock and reluctance. John attempts to prevent Jesus from being baptised because he sees a clear reversal of roles: he considers himself unworthy and believes it is he who should be baptised by Jesus. Hendriksen suggests that this reaction is entirely understandable. Even if the two had never previously met in adulthood — due to their different places of upbringing and John’s long period in the wilderness — John would nonetheless have known something of Jesus’ identity, perhaps through what Elisabeth had told him about Mary and her child.
Hendriksen also addresses John’s later comment, “I did not know him,” and explores its nuance. He proposes that this does not necessarily mean John was unaware of Jesus personally, but that John had not yet received divine confirmation that Jesus was the Christ. John knew to look for the one on whom the Spirit would descend and remain — and it was this sign, rather than family knowledge, that would disclose the Messiah with certainty.
When Jesus asks John to “yield” or permit the baptism, Hendriksen sees this as Jesus overcoming John’s scruples with a gentle but authoritative insistence. Jesus’ words about “fulfilling all righteousness” indicate that, although a full explanation is not given, this baptism is a necessary and appropriate act at this precise moment in salvation history. Hendriksen infers that Jesus is effectively saying: in this particular circumstance, contrary to what might otherwise be expected, this is what God requires now as I begin my ministry. Through baptism, Jesus publicly reaffirms his commitment to the Father’s will.
Finally, Hendriksen addresses the question of sin. Jesus’ baptism cannot signify repentance from personal wrongdoing, since Jesus is sinless. Yet Hendriksen insists that Jesus does, in a real sense, carry sin — not his own, but ours. In accepting baptism, Jesus identifies fully with the people he has come to redeem, stepping into the waters not as a sinner, but as the One who will bear the world’s sin. This moment becomes, for Hendriksen, the true beginning of the ministry in which Jesus takes upon himself the burden and mission that will lead all the way to the cross.
Hendriksen highlights the baptism scene as a vivid self‑disclosure of the Triune God at the threshold of Jesus’ public ministry. Jesus asks to be baptised—an act of obedient identification with God’s people; the Spirit descends and remains upon him—publicly equipping and qualifying him for the “tremendous and sublime task” that lies ahead; and the Father’s voice declares divine delight: “This is my Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Taken together, these signs reveal the three‑in‑one acting in concert at a single moment of commissioning. Hendriksen further ruminates that the heavenly declaration is likely for Jesus to hear (as assurance at the outset of his ministry) and for John to know—a confirming sign that this truly is the One he has been waiting for, the bearer of the Spirit who will baptise with the Holy Spirit. He notes the pastoral comfort woven through the paragraph: assurance for Jesus as he steps into testing, confirmation for John in his forerunner role, and enduring consolation for all God’s children, who see in this scene both God’s delight in the Son and God’s faithfulness to his saving purpose.
In comparing the NIV Compact Bible Commentary (Sailhammer) with Hendriksen’s Exposition of the Gospel According to Matthew, the contrast in depth and purpose becomes very clear. Sailhammer’s compact commentary offers a brief, accessible overview: enough to give the reader the basic outline, key ideas, and the theological centre of the passage with minimal effort. It is excellent for gaining an initial feel for the text and for quickly orienting oneself to the main movements within the narrative. Hendriksen, by contrast, writes on an entirely different scale. With over a thousand pages dedicated to Matthew and more than seven pages given to this short passage alone, his work provides a far richer, more demanding, but ultimately far more rewarding exploration. Hendriksen not only explains what happens, but situates it in historical time, draws out theological nuance, and probes why Jesus’ baptism unfolds as it does. Where Sailhammer skims the surface with clarity, Hendriksen invites the reader into the depths — and while it is not always easy reading, it repays the effort by offering a much fuller and more textured understanding of the text.
Now for the reflection
When we meet Jesus at the Jordan, we meet him at a moment of profound turning. He steps out of the hidden years of Nazareth and into the waters that mark the beginning of his public ministry. Nothing here is accidental: Jesus comes deliberately, purposefully, ready to begin the work God has entrusted to him. And he chooses to begin not with a miracle, not with a sermon, not with acclaim — but by standing in the same water as everyone else, submitting to baptism alongside the crowds who have come in repentance and hope.
It is striking that the first thing we see in this passage is Jesus drawing close to the human story. John recognises the strangeness of this and tries to stop him, feeling unworthy to baptise someone whose sandals he would not dare to carry. But Jesus gently insists. In that moment he shows us something about the heart of God: the way of salvation begins not with distance but with identification. Jesus stands where we stand, not because he needs cleansing from sin, but because he has chosen to take upon himself the burden of our sin and our need.
And then heaven breaks open.
At the Jordan we see the mystery of God’s life revealed in a way almost nowhere else in Scripture. Jesus, the Son, stands in the water. The Spirit descends and rests upon him, equipping, affirming, and commissioning him for the road ahead. And the Father speaks words of unshakeable love: “This is my Son, the one in whom I delight.” It is a moment where the threefold life of God is made visible — Father, Son, and Spirit each active, each present, each drawing us deeper into the mystery of divine love.
This voice from heaven speaks for Jesus — anchoring him in love before he is led into testing. It speaks for John — confirming that the One he has long awaited is truly here. And it speaks for us — offering assurance that the God who sends his Son is a God who delights, who claims, who accompanies.
What follows is immediate and sobering. The same Spirit who descends with blessing now leads Jesus into the wilderness. There is no pause between affirmation and trial. Yet this is not a contradiction — it is a rhythm woven into the life of faith. God does not promise us a path free from struggle; he promises us his presence in the struggle, and a love that precedes every testing.
So what does this passage mean for us now?
It reminds us that faith begins not with our striving, but with God’s initiative: God speaks, God claims, God sends his Spirit, God calls us beloved. It challenges us to let Jesus lead us — not away from the world’s need, but deeper into it, standing where others stand, offering solidarity instead of judgement. It invites us to recognise the pattern of baptism and wilderness in our own journey: moments when we know God’s delight, followed by moments when that very delight strengthens us to face difficulty.
And perhaps most of all, it reassures us that the voice which spoke over Jesus at the Jordan speaks still. We, too, are God’s children. We, too, are held in love before we take a single step into our calling. We, too, are strengthened by the Spirit for the road ahead. The baptism of Jesus is not only the beginning of his ministry — it is the beginning of ours. It is the reminder that whatever lies before us, we do not face it alone: the Father who delights, the Son who stands with us, and the Spirit who empowers us are present still, leading us on with grace.
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