Fr Marco Lazzaron
hree decades have passed, and the child from Bethlehem that we left in the manger being visited by the Wise Men, now walks, and he is an adult. Probably, for years, He breathed anonymity, and hands marked by work, for many a hidden life. Today, there is the turning point: it is the moment in which He decides to make Himself known (another Epiphany!).
The initial act surprises all expectations: He does not take the center stage, does not claim privileges, but mingles among the last. And when it chooses where to speak for the first time, it avoids temples and pulpits. It prefers the flowing water by the shores of the river Jordan.
Only Matthew tells that Jesus approaches “to receive” that gesture from him. One can almost hear the held breath of the early communities and the prophet’s disbelief: something unheard of is happening. I imagine that John did not expect his friend would one day stand in line with the foul-smelling poor of Galilee. I can see him, speechless, watching with his eyes the Eternal One bowing down.
“You come to me?”, John must have thought, and who could blame him? He had expected the Messiah to reveal Himself in Jerusalem, perhaps setting things in order with strength and decision. Jesus, however, comes along sinners and speaks of tenderness. In short, Jesus chooses a different path.
“Let it be for now,” Jesus pleads. He asks John not to prevent Him from standing with humanity, sharing their fragility, their suffering, their pain. From those waters, filled with the sins of all those who had been baptized, Jesus begins His journey. Dear reader, seek God in the office where you work, in your family, in your elderly parents who don’t give you peace, in that relative who does everything to point out your flaws, in your child who gives you a thousand worries.
While Jesus prays on the banks of the Jordan, the heavens are torn open, finally no longer inaccessible. Jesus has a secret that, over time, will be understood by the whole world. A voice from heaven reveals it: “This is my Son, the beloved: in Him I am well pleased.” John senses he is inside a story, a history of salvation. It’s beautiful to know that these words were also spoken for you on the day of your baptism. On that day, a voice also said to you: “You are my Son, the beloved: in you I am well pleased”. How wonderful to know that God loves us as He loved Jesus,with the same intensity, the same passion. For each of us, there has been the same declaration of love: Son, beloved, my pleasure.
Son. Baptism really and effectively makes us “partakers of the divine nature” (2P 1:4). To God, we are all unique children! He doesn’t love us indiscriminately, like no parent loves their children generically. God loves us individually, one by one, just as each parent loves each child individually. God doesn’t love people in general, God loves you, like no one else. Love never generalizes; each one of us is God’s favourite.
Loved. God loves me insanely, regardless of my actions (after all, isn’t this the nature of a parent’s love for their children?). God loves me before I act, before any merit, whether I realize it or not. His love is undeserved, prevenient. Baptism is God’s declaration of love for me. He will take care of my life, no matter what happens. For us, who are often used to loving with the hope of being loved in return, this is truly good news. Human love, even the greatest, has conditions. God’s love does not. Baptism is the experience of being immersed in a Love that makes life work. Christian life is the endless attempt to let yourself be loved. If we don’t feel loved, everything becomes heavy.
Pleasure. A beautiful term, derived from the verb “to please,” meaning “I like you, you make me happy, it’s beautiful to be with you”. He is pleased with the masterpiece He created with His hands. Every morning, as soon as we wake up, these words should echo in our ears: God loves me for who I am. The consequence is that we are called to love our wife, our husband, our children, our colleagues, our friends, for who they are, not for how we would like them to be.