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Homily:
The Baptism of the Lord – Cycle B
On January 8th, 1978, a baby boy was baptized at
Saint Mary Nativity Catholic Church.
Little did his parents and godparents know at the time that this boy
would be destined to stand one day right where I am standing and preach to you,
the good people of this parish, the Good News of Jesus Christ. No, they could not know this as the mysterious
plans of God would take this boy far and wide until that day that he would come
here, carrying this most important news.
“Who is this boy?” you might be asking.
“Who is this boy destined to bring us Good News?” Well, my friends, it’s… me. It’s just me.
You know, I remembered my baptism anniversary this past
week and I realized that the whole thing was rather… undramatic. So I thought I’d try to infuse a little drama
into it here in my homily. My guess is
that, for just about everyone here, the same is true. So true that I’m willing to bet that there
aren’t five people in this church who know when their baptism anniversary
is. Am I right? Raise your hands if you know the date of your
baptism. Almost all of us here do not
remember the date of our baptism. And
why? Well, probably because they were
all pretty undramatic, I suppose.
Nonetheless, hidden below the surface, incredibly dramatic things
happened.
Jesus’ baptism, on the surface, wasn’t very dramatic
either. In fact, Mark’s Gospel barely
gives it a sentence. He wrote: “It
happened in those days that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was
baptized in the Jordan by John.” That’s
it. No drama. Just another dip in the water like the
multitudes of others that had been coming to John for his “baptism of
repentance”. Under the surface, however,
this was incredibly dramatic.
Imagine for a moment that you are standing in line for
confession; and imagine that this is a “regular” confession for you: one in
which you don’t feel the anxiety of anything major to confess, but nonetheless
have acknowledged that there are some things in your life that need the grace
of God’s forgiveness. Look up and down
the line. You’ll see some folks you
recognize and others you do not. Now imagine
that one of those folks is Jesus. Which
one? Who knows? But this is the situation in which Jesus
comes to be baptized by John. Jesus, a
guy who looks like anyone else, comes to receive John’s baptism of
repentance. He waits his turn, enters
the river, and allows John to baptize him.
No drama (at least not in Mark’s account, which is universally regarded
as the first written account). Hidden
below the surface, however, something incredibly dramatic happened: something
mostly obscured by what happened after.
What happened after was this great theophany—the
manifestation of the Holy Trinity—as the skies were torn open and the Holy
Spirit descended upon him and the voice of God the Father was heard declaring
to him that he is his “beloved Son”.
This was pretty dramatic, to be sure.
Mark doesn’t make it clear whether or not this was a private revelation
to Jesus or if other of the bystanders saw it, too; but the fact that in John’s
Gospel the Baptist says that he “saw the Spirit come down from heaven as a dove
and remain on him” would seem to indicate that at least John, if not others,
were privy to this revelation. Rightly
so, then, this public manifestation of Jesus’ identity steals the stage from
the drama that happened in the water.
The hidden drama in the water, however, was no less significant.
When you and I were baptized, I’ll bet that the most
dramatic thing that happened outwardly was that the priest poured too much
water and got some in your eyes or your godfather dropped your lit candle on
the carpet. Nonetheless a great drama
happened, unseen to any of us: we were cleansed of sin, the Spirit of God
descended upon us, and we were permanently sealed by God, marking us as his
beloved children. Incredible! Something permanent and infinitely
irrevocable happened to us with what looked like nothing more than a splash of
water. This hidden drama of our baptism,
though, wouldn’t have been possible without the hidden drama of Jesus’.
You see, what happened at Jesus’ baptism was not God’s
adoption of him (as some ancient writers had proposed—as if he hadn’t always
been God’s Son and as if he just happened to be, like, the
“one-millionth-customer”; thus winning the grand prize of becoming God’s
son). Rather, what happened at his
baptism was the sanctification of water as the means of new life. Jesus did not need John’s baptism: he had no
need of repentance. Yet he shows us the
depths of his humility by submitting to John’s baptism anyway. In doing so he purified the waters of
baptism and made them powerful: able to effect the hidden drama that happens at
every baptism that we celebrate today and to be the sign of new life that it
inaugurates.
The public manifestation that Jesus is the Son of God was
the outward expression of new life that his baptism brought. From that moment, Jesus’ hidden life in
Nazareth was over and his life of public ministry was inaugurated. So, too, for us. Once the hidden drama of baptism unfolded, a
new life in faith was inaugurated for each of us. We were incorporated into Christ and, thus,
we can now no longer live a hidden life.
Rather, our lives must consist in being manifestations of the truths
that have been revealed to us throughout this Christmas season: that Jesus is
the divine person in human flesh—the Son of God—and that he has come to save
us.
My brothers and sisters, none of us needs screenwriters to
make our baptisms seem more dramatic.
There is a depth of drama already built in, hidden under the surface. What we need,
however, is to let the ensuing drama—the drama of the manifestation of Jesus to
the world—play out in our lives by proclaiming this Good News (with our
mouths!), by living upright and holy lives (for the Apostle John tells us that
“the love of God is this, that we keep his commandments”), and by serving those
in need, no matter where we are.
My brothers and sisters, God has called each of us to be a
manifestation of his presence to the world.
As we enter into Ordinary Time let us resolve to respond to that call,
so that the drama of each of our lives might lead to the greater glory of him:
the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, who lives and reigns forever and ever… AMEN!
Given at All Saints Parish:
Logansport, IN – January 11th, 2015
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