Is Jesus mistaken?
Following is the January 11 homily delivered by Archbishop George H. Niederauer at St. Raymond Parish, Menlo Park.
This is the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, the last day of the Christmas season, and the final event in Jesus Christ's life which prepares for the beginning of his public ministry, his announcement of the kingdom of God and his own Messiahship.
The Church begins the readings today with the prophet Isaiah, who described hundreds of years beforehand what the favored one would be like, the Savior whom God would send to his people. Isaiah foresees what God will say: "Here is my servant, whom I uphold, with whom I am pleased, upon whom I have put my Spirit." What will this savior-servant do for the people: "He shall bring justice." How will he do that? Like all those worldly leaders who promise justice and peace, but always seem to bring in wars, bloodshed, divisions, condemnations, suffering?
No! God says, through Isaiah, that his favored servant will be different: "He will not be crying out and shouting, he will not break the bruised reed nor quench the smoldering wick." The "favored one of God" when he comes, will not give up on the smallest, weakest sign of life. He will do God's will and be attentive to the needs of God's people. Speaking finally to this favored servant, God says: "I have called you for the victory of justice, I have grasped you by the hand, I have formed you as a light to open blind eyes, to free prisoners and those who live in darkness."
In the second reading, we move forward to the first days of the Christian Church. The Apostle Peter is teaching this new faith in Jesus to the Roman soldier, Cornelius, and his family and friends. Peter teaches that all God's promises of a savior are now fulfilled in Jesus. He teaches that this fulfillment all began with the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist in the Jordan river. In that moment, Jesus was anointed by God with the Holy Spirit and power, and he began his ministry of good works and healing, gently, never breaking the reed or quenching the wick.
Why has the Church always regarded this feast, this event in the life of Jesus as so very important, right alongside his birth and the visit of the wise men at Epiphany? We hear from Mark's Gospel that, as Jesus came up out of the water, he saw the Spirit descending on him in the form of a dove, and heard a voice from the heavens say: "You are my beloved Son. On you my favor rests." Here is the meaning our faith sees in this event: By his baptism, Jesus showed that he accepted his humanity and that he identified with all his human brothers and sisters, in this very baptism of repentance. He says: "I am a human among humans." He takes everything about our living and dying on himself. And his father in heaven says: "You are my beloved Son."
But our salvation is not a "spectator sport." We are involved; we are called to participate; we need to respond and get involved. In fact, when John baptized Jesus, baptism didn't change Jesus; instead, Jesus changed baptism. Remember what John said earlier in that reading: "One more powerful than I is to come after me. I have baptized you in water; he will baptize you in the Holy Spirit." He is speaking of Jesus.
Water can wash the body, but only the Spirit of God can cleanse a life and a self and a heart. That is the power Jesus gives to baptism: in this moment at the Jordan, and later on Calvary and at his resurrection on Easter morning.
And this is the leap our faith must make: because of Jesus's baptism and our baptism in Jesus, now you and I hear the father say: "You are my beloved Son, my beloved daughter. On you my favor rests." Maybe you resist that: "Oh no, Archbishop, it's nice of you to say that; I know you think you're supposed to encourage us, but you don't know me...."
NO! You cannot see yourself from God's point of view, so it's easy to imagine the worst. But Jesus does have God's point of view. He tells us over and over again that we are the loved children of his father in heaven. Is Jesus mistaken, or are we timid of heart?
Jesus even goes so far as to say, after his resurrection, in John's Gospel: "As the Father has sent me, so also I send you." Combine that with: "You are my beloved daughter or son. On you my favor rests." As the baptized disciples of Jesus, we follow in his steps. He speaks to us in these Scriptures. He feeds us with his body and blood.
And he sends us out from here, as the father sent him: usually, in our circumstances, not to be great heroes, but to bring whatever light and comfort we can to those we live and work with; to work for justice (fairness among peoples, patient, compassionate judgments, and not gossipy condemnations); to help free those we love and those we meet from the dungeons and the darkness of their prejudices, their resentments, their discouragements, their depression. To witness to the saving, healing difference Jesus and his Church make in our lives. To recognize the bruised reed and the smoldering wick, and not to break or quench, even more, to strengthen with love and example, to gently fan the guttering ember of frightened confusion back into the flame of confident love. In each effort, in each step, hear your father saying: "You are my beloved daughter, you are my beloved son. On you my favor rests."
Which brings us to this Sunday, Jan. 11, 2009, at St. Raymond Parish in Menlo Park.
Why do we even need a church? Lots of competing outlooks on spirituality these days: relationship to God and to each other--e.g., "I'm spiritual, but I'm not religious." They may say, "I worship God outside in the beautiful world of nature he created, not in some stuffy church on Sundays. I take a hike in the hills or mountains he made."
We don't mock that, because people are sincere, but we don't have to agree either. We Catholics are entitled to be who we are, too. Who are we? Well, by our baptism, we are people who share a faith in Jesus Christ. We believe that Jesus, at the Last Supper, on the night before he died, did not say to his first followers, "Go take a hike in memory of me." No, this is what we believe: At the Last Supper, on the night before he died, Jesus took bread, said the blessing, broke the bread,
"This cup is the new covenant in my Blood, which will be shed for you." Then Jesus said, "Take and eat. This is my Body." Then he took the cup with wine, and said, "Do this in memory of me." So each Sunday, the Lord's Day, we do this in memory of Jesus Christ, and we believe that it strengthens and inspires us to go forth and live as he has taught us to do. We believe that it gives profound meaning to everything in our lives, including hikes in the woods and the hills.
We are celebrating this Mass just four days after the feast of your patron saint, Raymond of Penyafort. He was born in Barcelona, Spain, around 1175. He was a contemporary of St. Francis of Assisi, patron of our Archdiocese of San Francisco, and of St. Dominic. Indeed, he joined the Dominican order that St. Dominic founded, and he was that saint's second successor as Master General of the Order. We are told that he turned down the possibility of becoming an archbishop, and there are days when I think that is the smartest decision he ever made! Perhaps that's why, in the 13th century, he lived to be nearly 100 years old. His most famous work was a pastoral guide for confessors to use in the Sacrament of Penance, to be gentle, just and healing in their work with penitents. He learned from the example of Christ not to break the bruised read or to quench the smoking wick. In each age, in every place, disciples of Jesus Christ hear the call to go forth, as beloved daughters and sons of God, to proclaim the kingdom of peace and justice that Jesus Christ established and proclaimed.
(By Archbishop George H. Niederauer)
(From January 16, 2009 issue of Catholic San Francisco)
