Homily for the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord

Today we celebrate the Baptism of the Lord and the end of the Christmas season. Over the past three weeks, with the shepherds and the Wise Men, we have found Jesus as a little babe in the crib at Bethlehem.

With them we have marveled at the fact that God is made man, emptying Himself to share our human condition. He is fragile, dependant as all children are. He is poor – born in a stable surrounded by animals and laid in a manger. He is an exile from his homeland and He is sought by ruthless murderers.

Today, we find Jesus an adult, emerging from the hidden years in Nazareth, coming to the Jordan to be baptized by John. But we find Jesus in no more glamorous a setting: He is standing in the muddy waters of the Jordan, standing alongside all the sinners of Israel, who have come to John to repent of their sins and be baptized.

Like the thought of God’s Son being born in a barn, this scene is almost scandalous – and John the Baptist himself recognizes that. He says, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?”

Jesus’ response is crucial for understanding this seeming contradiction: “Allow it for now, for it is fitting to fulfill all righteousness.”


Just as he emptied Himself, and took on flesh, shared in our human condition, Jesus now also stands alongside us in our sinfulness – even though He Himself was completely without sin.

He does all this to fulfill righteousness – to right the world which has been turned upside down by our sins; to make us righteous, and to put us in right relationship with His heavenly Father.

This is the essence of Jesus’ mission – to bring us into a sharing in Jesus’ relationship with the Father. That is why in the opening prayer of this Mass we had the audacity to pray: “may we who share His humanity, come to share His divinity.”

That’s precisely what Jesus has given us: a share in His divinity. And so, the feast of the Baptism of the Lord doesn’t just commemorate Jesus’ Baptism two thousand years ago – it reminds us that on the day of our Baptisms we were incorporated into Christ Jesus – we were made a part of His body, we were given a share in His relationship to the Father – and the Father said to us, as he said to Jesus in today’s Gospel: “You are my beloved child in whom I am well pleased.”

“You are my beloved. It is certainly not easy to hear this voice,” is it? “We live in a world so filled with other voices: ‘You’re no good; you’re too ugly; you’re too fat; you’re worthless.’”

So much of our society and our own psyches can drown out this voice that calls us ‘beloved.’ Indeed, this is one of the “greatest enemies of the spiritual life" because the drowning out of this voice keeps us from hearing the truth and dignity of our identity (Henri Nouwen's "Life of the Beloved.")

So how is it that we can come to hear this voice in our lives and come to know ourselves as God knows us – as His beloved?

The entire life of the Church, every aspect of Christian discipleship is meant to aid us in hearing the Divine voice that calls us ‘beloved.’

The Scriptures are the great love story between God and His beloved – us – and His plan unfolding through time to save us. The Liturgy and Sacraments are manifestations of Christ Himself, and through them He continues to make us God’s beloved. And the lives of the saints are the stories of all those who heard the Divine voice, allowed their lives to be shaped by it, and so came to live the life of Christ, the beloved.

But as we start this new year I want to suggest just one other spiritual practice as a means of hearing this Divine voice: silence. It is only when we silence all the other voices and noises of our hectic world, and listen in silence that we will be able to hear God’s persistent whisper.

I know that we are all extremely busy, and in the midst of family and work and all the various forms of media that fill our lives, it is tremendously difficult to find time to “waste” in silence.

But I don’t think it is an accident that our observance of Christmas begins on a Silent Night and ends with us hearing God’s voice calling us His beloved. If we want to reap the fruit of Christmas throughout the year – if we want to experience the Christ child’s gift of peace – if we long to know in our innermost selves that we are indeed God’s beloved, and live our lives as such – then we must certainly quiet ourselves so that we can hear His voice saying: “You are my beloved child, in whom I am well pleased.”