topleft05.jpg (18208 bytes)HOMILY
Baptism of the Lord (A)
13 January 02


 

For many people, the single, most significant phrase they long to hear is "I love you." Whether it be from a parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle, a child, grandchild, or even one’s friend, the phrase "I love you" fills a void that is part of human existence. Imagine what it would be like to live an existence where no one ever said "I love you" or, if the phrase is uttered, it is done so in such a trite and insincere way that it is utterly meaningless. That’s a pretty harsh and sad reality even to conceive, isn’t it?

In today’s gospel, it strikes me that the phrase emanating from heaven was not "I love you." No, after John baptized Jesus in the Jordan River, the voice of God coming from the heavens said, "This is my beloved, Upon whom my favor rests."

In contrast to the human phrase, "I love you," the divine phrase "This is my beloved" may be the most powerful and deeply meaningful phrase any person can utter. And, when the person uttering the phrase acts upon it by treating others as beloved, the phrase possesses the power to alter the course of human existence. In reality, it is much easier to say "I love you" than to say "This is my beloved" and, then, to back up one’s words with one’s actions.

Think about the power this phrase possesses by reflecting upon the people you interact with daily, whether they are your spouse, kids, or siblings at home, people at work, or friends and acquaintances in the neighborhood or parish. Think about how differently all of us would act toward these people were we to adopt the phrase, "This is my beloved," as our way of looking at them and treating them in daily life.

I don’t know about you, but there are a lot of people who drive me crazy and, when they do, the furthest thing from my mind is "This is my beloved." You know, the person who doesn’t replace the paper towels in the dispenser or the toilet paper on the roller. Or, how about the people who leave their shopping cart smack dab in the middle of the parking space? Then there are those people who insist on changing lanes constantly during rush hour so that they can get nowhere real fast. And, what about the child who doesn’t complete the chores assigned four days ago?

All of these things can make it difficult, but not impossible, to utter the phrase "This is my beloved, Upon whom my favor rests."

The human phrase "I love you" is a phrase of endearment. Feelings of love come and go, despite all of our protestations to the contrary. But, the divine phrase uttered in today's gospel, "This is my beloved," bespeaks a personal responsibility and a personal commitment on God's part. Because "This is my beloved," God freely chose to be responsible for and vigilant on His beloved’s behalf. Because "This is my beloved," God is personally committed to care for His beloved and not to flag in His efforts. In sum, the phrase "This is my beloved" identifies a concrete reality, namely, what God will be for His beloved and what God will do for His beloved, despite how His beloved might think about God or act in response to His initiative.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s me, a priest, who utters this phrase, or whether it’s you, whatever your station in life may be. Whenever any one of us utters the divine phrase "This is my beloved," we---like God---promise our beloved unflagging encouragement, support, hope, and strength. This is precisely what God promised us at our baptism when He called each of us His "beloved, Upon whom my favor rests."

The fact is, however---and perhaps more than we’d like others to know---we don’t deserve to be called "beloved." More often than not, we put ourselves and what we want first and place others and what they need in second place. It’s so very easy to say "This is my beloved" and, then, to act contrary to what this divine phrase requires in terms of personal responsibility and commitment.

In light of this reluctance to look upon others as God’s beloved and to act that way, the sacrament of Baptism that we recall in today's remembrance of Jesus' baptism in the Jordan River addresses two significant two mysteries.  The first is the mystery of human sinfulness and why we freely choose to embrace a way of life that leads us away from God and into a place where, as the Psalmist writes, "death encompasses me from all about." The second mystery is that of forgiveness.

There really is no "answer" to the mystery of why people sin, only the act of conversion whenever anyone realizes that even though I am a sinner I remain God’s "beloved." Hardened sinners cannot comprehend such graciousness, that is, how God can call sinners His beloved, look upon them as His beloved, and act toward them as His beloved. Part of the reason is that hardened sinners can’t forgive themselves for the wrongs they’ve committed and they suspect God feels the same way. And so, wallowing in shame and guilt, people hardened by sin feel death encompassing them from all about and do not allow the chains binding them to be broken by the simple recognition that they are God’s beloved and, then, full of terror and awe at this gift, to return to Him. That’s one of the lessons contained in the parable of the Prodigal Son. Sin so grips the minds of hardened sinners that they will not allow themselves to believe in and to accept their status as God’s beloved. Instead, they’re satisfied to eat with the swineherd as God offers His beloved a sumptuous banquet.

The sacrament of Baptism addresses a second mystery, namely, forgiveness.

We all know how really hard it is to forgive people for the wrongs that they’ve inflicted upon us and, I suspect, because of this, hardened sinners believe that it’s just as difficult for God to forgive their sins. Forgiveness is a mystery because it is based upon not upon what justice demands but what love requires. Forgiveness is not based upon sinners fulfilling our demands that they make amends for each and every one of the evils they’ve perpetrated against us. Instead, forgiveness is the divine response to seeing one’s beloved turn from sinful ways and become a grace-filled person and, out of one's heart, to cancel the debt owed. Love requires that.

At the same time, forgiveness isn’t just a mystery. No, more importantly, forgiveness is also a miracle. It’s a miracle because, despite all of the reasons we have not to forgive others, it still is possible for us to forgive them. That is, unless we deceive ourselves into believing that sin has the power to drive even the love of God from our hearts. From this perspective, I suspect that it is easier for a hardened sinner to move a mountain than it is for a hardened sinner to allow God’s love to move his stone cold heart to forgiveness. Yet, forgiveness is the one miracle that every one of us---even a hardened sinner---can effect. All it takes is looking not at what justice demands but what love requires first of God in His relationship with His beloved and, then, what love requires of us in our relationships with our beloved.

After we were baptized, God did not say "I love you." Instead, God said, "This is my beloved, Upon whom my favor rests." Freed from the propensity to sin, the challenge that God's words put before us is to look upon one another and treat one another as God’s beloved, just as Jesus did. St. Paul expressed this challenge so well in today’s epistle. Each of the baptized is God’s beloved upon whom His favor rests and we witness to this belief, St. Paul writes, by "doing good works and healing those in the grip of evil, for God is with us."

The vitally important question for you and me is: Do I really believe that I am God’s beloved, upon whom His favor rests? As Jesus’ disciples, our response is not a simple "yes" or a "no." Instead, it is a way of life by which we do good works and heal those in the grip of evil, especially people whom we might otherwise look upon as "unbeloved" and "unworthy of our favor."

 

 

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