[Editor’s note: this essay is based on notes that were intended for this past weekend’s homily, but I forgot about the guest speaker for Catholic Charities!] All of this past Sunday’s readings have the flavor of the past season(s)—Isaiah 40 reminds us of Advent; Titus was the reading for Midnight Mass on Christmas; Luke is a throwback to John the Baptist (Advent) and the actual celebration of the Baptism of the Lord. This is not redundance: it is a summing up of the season(s). It offers us promise and fulfillment.
What were the implications of the event of the baptism for Jesus? What we get is an external narrator’s description of an internal prayer experience, an experience of deep communion between Father and Son and Spirit. But it raises a question: did Jesus need a voice (internal or otherwise) to tell Him He was the “Beloved Son”?
I think that, from the point of view of His full humanity, the answer is potentially a YES. Think, for example, of His cry from the cross— “…why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34; Matthew 27:46). The bottom line was His ultimate and utter trust, in agony, of the One who called Him “the Beloved Son.” Beyond that, whether or not Jesus needed the voice, we all know it’s true that sometimes it’s nice just to be reminded. Is there anyone who thinks that “I love you” from someone you love can be heard and taken in too many times?
So in a way, if you like, the event at the Jordan River was less about Jesus’ “baptism” and more about His “confirmation”…
We need to ask about the implications of baptism for ourselves, as well. We know what happens (externally) at a baptism, or we can with a little bit of study. There are the Scripture passages, the anointings, the questions, the water… But what happened internally, for us, at our baptism? For some of us, it took place within weeks or months of our birth. For others, it took place as adults (perhaps at an Easter Vigil). Either way, there is power and presence in the sacrament. What are we doing to keep it alive?
I often use an analogy when talking about “Gifts of the Holy Spirit”—let’s say I know something you really want to treasure, and as a gesture of love I buy it for you. It’s beautifully wrapped, I give it to you, you say thanks, and put it, unopened, in a closet. I gave you a gift, but it was never able to become a present (something that makes me present to you) because it was never opened. Yes, you received it, but…
So if Jesus prayed in the middle of the Jordan River, experiencing the presence of the Spirit and the voice of the Father, how do we reflect and pray? Who dwells in my innermost self, and how do I acknowledge Him? Whom do I encounter in the Eucharist, and how do I acknowledge Him there? How do I allow Him to lead and guide and change me? Or do I?
These are questions worth praying over—and over, and over…