Baptism of the Lord
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
John,
seeing Jesus standing in line to be baptized, must've been shocked.
No, not shocked. Thoroughly confused. Maybe even a little
intimidated. Here he is a simple prophet, carrying out his mission to
baptize repentant sinners in water, and up walks the fulfillment of
every messianic prophecy ever uttered in ancient scripture. As far as
we know, this is the first time Jesus and John have met since they
were both in their mothers' wombs—when John leaped with joy in the
presence of his savior. They know one another not by acquaintance nor
friendship but by the complementary gifts given them by the Father.
One goes before; the other comes after. One baptizes with water for
the remission of sins; the other baptizes with blood and fire for the
salvation of the world. At first, John hesitates to baptize his Lord,
saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to
me?” In his shock, confusion, and fear John reveals the fundamental
movement of grace, the primitive motion of the Father's love for His
creatures: Christ comes to us. Before anything else happens in our
lives as followers of the Christ, Christ comes to us.
How
does Christ come to you, to me? Given our all-too-human tendency to
think that all things divine must be overwhelmingly dramatic, we
might expect that Christ comes to us in dazzling technicolor visions,
or from the midst of a great conflagration, or in a booming voice
while visiting a church. But notice how Isaiah describes the coming
Christ: “. . .he shall bring forth justice to the nations, not
crying out, not shouting, not making his voice heard in the street.”
No parades, no wailing over the Emergency Broadcast System, no
magical appearance at a Saints' game. He brings forth justice in a
whisper. He doesn't break a bruised reed when he walks nor does he
quench a smoldering wick when he breathes. So quiet, so gentle is his
coming to me and to you that we wait—like the coast lands—for his
teaching. The primitive motion of the Father's love for us is His
choice, His move towards us. Isaiah reports: “I, the Lord, have
called you for the victory of justice, I have grasped you by the
hand; I formed you. . .” I called you. I grasped your hand. I
formed you. Says the Lord. For the victory of justice—the victory
we share with Christ—is the Father's victory in Christ. He won for
us. And He sent His Son as a sign of His victory. Christ comes to
you, to me as a delicate triumph, as a small, singular success that
manages nonetheless to “open the eyes of the blind” and set
prisoners free.
The
Son of God is no prisoner to sin. So, when he approaches John for
baptism, John squawks, “But but but, you should be baptizing me!
And yet, you come to me?” Jesus—I always imagine that he
smiles—says, “Allow it now, for thus it is fitting for us to
fulfill all righteousness.” To fulfill all righteousness. Not a
phrase we hear everyday. What does Jesus mean? First, he means that
since he is the fulfillment of scripture's messianic prophecies, he
must do all that those prophecies require. Second, he means that
though he has no sin to repent, he still needs to show us the
necessity of repentance and baptism. And finally, he knows that his
baptism is to be followed by a revelation, a word spoken from heaven
confirming his identity and mission: “. . .he came up from the
water and behold, . . .a voice came from the heavens, saying, 'This
is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.'” All
righteousness is fulfilled by this revelation. All is right with the
world b/c God's beloved Son is among us, sent to us for our
salvation. The long-wounded relationship btw creation and its Creator
is healed. You and I are approached by Christ and offered. .
.everything. Everything we need to live freely, to think truthfully,
to act justly, and to speak his Word of mercy to sinners.
Last
week, we celebrated the Epiphany of the Lord, the occasion of the
magi searching for and finding the newly born Jewish king. That these
Gentiles found him and offered him their homage tells us that the
king of the Jews is also the king of the Gentiles. Today we celebrate
the Lord's baptism and the final revelation of his identity and
mission: Christ is King and Christ is the Son of God. He rules heaven
and earth. And he rules not with fear or power or wealth but with his
teaching, his preaching, and his love for the poor in spirit. Peter
reminds his brothers and sisters in Acts that after he was baptized
by John and anointed by the Father “[Christ] went about doing good
and healing all those oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.”
Christ rule is liberation from power, fear, and the spiritual
oppression of things. We are approached and offered freedom.
Approached and offered healing. He will not rule a heart that is not
first given to him freely. He will not rule a mind that is not first
turned toward him. He brings forth justice with a whisper. He doesn't
break a bruised reed when he walks nor does he quench a smoldering
wick when he breathes.
This
can be both good and bad news for us. Good news b/c who wants to be
coerced into being free? Bad news b/c we must be attentive enough to
hear his approach and offer. This bad news, however, really isn't all
that bad. Part of my job as a preacher is to make sure that you know
that there's an offer on the table. And make sure that you understand
the offer and the consequences of accepting that offer. So, here
goes. There's an offer from Christ in front of you. He's approached
you—each one of us—and laid before us a simple proposition: we
repent of our sins, get baptized, and follow him, and eternal life
awaits us when this life is done. Unlike the magi, we don't have to
go searching for him. Unlike John, we aren't surprised that he's come
to us. We don't owe him anything. We don't have to put up any
collateral or sign away an organ or a child to follow. Repent. Get
baptized. Follow him. He's not going to shout or jump or promise us
great wealth or a better looking spouse. In fact, and here's the hard
part of my job, following him in this world is a promise of conflict,
persecution, trial, and near-constant opposition. When we pick up his
offer and follow him, we become an irritant to the world. This isn't
surprising. Christ himself is the Cosmic Irritant, and the world
convulses to dig him out. Why would you or I be spared?
With
all the conflict, trial, and persecution, you might rightly wonder
how a follower of Christ is supposed to accomplish his/her mission to
speak the Word of God's mercy to sinners. Isaiah prophesied in the
desert and on the street corner. John baptized in a local river.
Jesus preached on hills, from a boat, and in the market. The world
tells you to be quiet. The world fears your good deeds. The world
wants you to be embarrassed by the cross. It's the world that tells
us that our faith is a “private matter.” It's the world that
tells us that we believe in fairy-tales and tribal myths. And what
does the world offer instead? Power, influence, wealth, celebrity.
Corrupting power, compromising influence, dirty wealth, and fleeting
celebrity. All to weigh down your soul and keep you enslaved. . .to
what? Nothing eternal, nothing permanent. A lust for more? More
corruption? More compromise? Our God has called us, grasped us by the
hand, and formed us to be “a light for the nations, to open the
eyes of the blind,” to live and breath His victory of justice. Take
His offer and He will say on the last day, “These are my beloved
children, with whom I am well pleased.”
Follow HancAquam or Subscribe ----->