Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord, Cycle C. Today’s readings: Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11; Titus 2:11-14; 3:4-7; Luke 3:15-16, 21-22.
Why would Jesus, the sinless one, wish to receive John’s baptism of repentance? Theologians have dealt with this question deftly, pointing out that it is not Jesus who is in need of the baptismal water, but rather the water that is in need of Jesus! In the fourth century, St Maximus of Turin preached that “Christ is baptised, not to be made holy by the water, but to make the water holy, and by his cleansing to purify the waters which he touched”.
As if to confirm this, all four Gospels relate that upon emerging from the waters of the Jordan, something amazing happened around Jesus: the heavens were opened, the Holy Spirit appeared in the form of a dove, and a voice from above proclaimed: “You are my beloved son; with you I am well pleased.”
We cannot help but see in this awesome event the fulfilment of the prophecy that featured so prominently in our Advent readings and prayers: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down”(Isaiah 64:1). Indeed, God has opened the heavens and come down, and he now stands among his people.
Yet this God always defies expectations. He does not descend as a conquering hero, dazzling us with glory and terrifying us with power. Rather, he stands among a crowd of sinners whose presence at the Jordan, awaiting John’s baptism, proclaims their need of salvation and, therefore, of a saviour.
In his Angelus address of January 13, 2019, Pope Francis noted that the people present at the baptism with Jesus are not merely background scenery, but rather an essential component of what is being revealed in this event: “Before immersing himself in the water, Jesus ‘immerses’ himself in the crowd; he joins it, fully taking on the human condition, sharing everything, except sin. In his divine holiness, full of grace and mercy, the Son of God became flesh precisely to take upon himself and take away the sin of the world: taking on our miseries, our human condition.”
A kind of ‘divine exchange’ is therefore at play here. Christ lowers himself – as it were – in order to raise up sinful humanity. Since the earliest days of Christianity, preachers and writers have described this ‘raising up’ using terms that sound almost blasphemous: words like ‘divinisation’ or ‘deification’. Clearly they do not mean that mere human beings can ever become ‘divine’ in the sense that is proper only to God; they do mean, however, that we can be transformed by supernatural grace to such an extent that we become partakers of the divine nature itself. This is why John the Baptist could tell his listeners that one far greater than himself was coming, one who would baptise them with the Holy Spirit and with fire.
We can be transformed by supernatural grace to such an extent that we become partakers of the divine nature itself
The feast of Christ’s baptism is an invitation to reflect deeply on what our own baptism signifies. Have we banished the Holy Spirit and quenched his fire by turning this sacrament into a mere ritual bereft of any deeper meaning? Have we reduced it to a simple rite of passage, akin to the quċċija that many families still celebrate for their one-year-olds?
Or do we understand that – as he did with Jesus – God the Father also wishes to say to each of us: “You are my beloved child; with you I am well pleased”? In our baptism we were immersed into God’s own life and endowed with divine power, enabling us to “reject godless ways and worldly desires and to live temperately, justly, and devoutly in this age” (today’s second reading). Are we allowing God’s glory to shine in and through us?
bgatt@maltachurchtribunals.org