Christmas Day Reflection

Here is a reflection I wrote for the Notre Dame Alumni Association's Daily Gospel Reflection, located at faith.nd.edu.

Gospel: The Nativity of the Lord

Luke 2:1-14

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered.

Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David.

He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.

But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”

Reflection

During the summer after my first year at Notre Dame, I participated in a summer service project, serving at a homeless shelter in downtown Denver. While many of the residents there had checked into the shelter for a determined period of time, one area of the building was a large room where the "overflow" guests stayed. These were people who simply needed shelter for the night, possibly because of the weather or the transient nature of their lives at the moment. Each night, the staff would count people at lights-out, making sure there was sufficient room for everyone. Some nights, people faced the same plight as the Holy Family—turned away due to insufficient space.

Today's Christmas Gospel, complete with the details of a very inconveniently timed census and an overcrowded inn, caused me to remember my time in Denver. It is not always clear who counts in our society today and how we make room for others in our lives. Examples race through my mind: a peacefully and miraculously developing baby in the womb, seen only by the ultrasound machine; the sun-worn migrant worker, fighting weariness and hardship to feed his family; the disheveled addict, sleeping in a heap of belongings under an overpass; the weary streetwalker, trafficked and trapped in a silent hell; the frightened victims of an endless war whose ghostly faces show the weight of their worry. Who counts, and how can we make room?

Of course, Jesus comes to show us that everyone counts—from the simple shepherd to the learned scholar—and in God’s house, there is room for everyone who desires a place. What a powerful message contained in a poor, humble baby. This holy and divine child, who takes on all our loneliness, sin, and death, arrives to save us and give us lasting hope. Jesus does not come to redeem only a few. He comes for all, communicating God’s lasting desire to incorporate each of us in the final tally of those eternally happy in the many rooms of heaven.

O come, let us adore him!

The Third Luminous Mystery: The Proclamation of the Kingdom

The following is the final of twenty monthly reflections about the Mysteries of the Rosary as they relate to family life. The mysteries will not be necessarily chronological but presented as they interact with the liturgical year.

          This month’s Rosary mystery, The Proclamation of the Kingdom, is a bit obscure because it does not have an image of an event readily attached to it. I suppose we could conjure a scene in our minds of Jesus teaching his followers, but that is about it. What we are left to do is think of many images that represent the coming of God’s Kingdom that is both underway here on earth and something we hope for in heaven. Of course, with this week containing Thanksgiving, I thought of the picture of the many preparations that are underway in homes across the country as another sort of coming is on the horizon: the coming of family.
          Cleaning the house, putting out the best dishes, preparing special foods, and a variety of other activities fill this week. All of it is geared toward a happy and successful gathering, but as many of us know, all the preparation does little to help if some kind of rift or tension exists within the family. Those sorts of problems take much more work over a prolonged period of time for wounds to heal.
          Preparing for the coming of the kingdom requires an extended effort as well. We often speak about it as an “already but not yet” reality, and what we mean is that certain elements of the kingdom were established on earth in Jesus’ lifetime and exist with us still, but other elements still have to be brought forth in each generation. We are part of both a legacy and a future, and we have the opportunity to help the kingdom grow or diminish in influence on earth by how we live.
          This month, we have already celebrated All Saints’ Day and prayed for our beloved dead on All Souls’ Day. Our common and often our personal pasts are filled with exemplary people who have made the kingdom alive and well in our lives. We strive to be part of this legacy of faith, passing on the Good News to the next generation and helping each other to prepare for what is to come.
          We know all too well, though, that each of us has some area in our lives that could be better prepared for the kingdom’s coming. Perhaps a damaged relationship, a bad habit, or a nagging grudge keep us from being fully ready. While we are in this life, we still have a chance to seek and offer forgiveness, to show greater charity, and to give better witness to what we believe to be true in our hearts. As we hear about the end times in the readings at the end of our liturgical year, we have another reminder about the opportunity in front of us. Perhaps even during this holiday season, we can take some important steps with our loved ones. May we seize this moment to do so, preparing our hearts for the moment when we are fully taken up into the Kingdom of God!

The Fifth Glorious Mystery: The Crowning of Mary as Queen of Heaven

The following is the nineteenth of twenty monthly reflections about the Mysteries of the Rosary as they relate to family life.  The mysteries will not be necessarily chronological but presented as they interact with the liturgical year.

            Given the number of children’s stories that portray members of royalty prominently, it is little wonder my boys have been somewhat fixated on the subject lately.  Their favorite activity is to assign roles to our family, but it took them a while to understand how they all could claim the title of prince.  My most amusing conversation was with my oldest son recently when he told me that, since I was a king, I could simply do whatever I wanted.  I assured him that even a king has restrictions and responsibilities, and if the queen is not happy with something, my title means very little!
             This month, we consider the final Glorious Mystery as Mary is crowned Queen of Heaven.  This is the culmination of all we have come to know and believe about Mary: her Immaculate Conception, her “yes” to God’s request to be Jesus’ mother, the sorrows she endured in life, and her Assumption into heaven.  All of this leads us to what must have been a blessed and wondrous reception into heaven.  The challenge for us is to understand how meditating upon this mystery can enhance our life of faith.
            The first item of importance that came to my mind is fidelity.  To whom or to what do we both pledge and actually give our loyalty?  With Mary, there is no doubt.  She gives her entire life to God and allows the means of our salvation to be born through her cooperation.  Not only that, she also remains faithful during what must have been very trying times, never forsaking hope that God was in control and had a plan.  Our loyalties are often less obvious or committed.  Many things can distract us from our vocations.  But Mary’s life is an important reminder of what God can do with a faithful servant.
            Also, since the intended audience of these reflections is those in families, I think it is essential to remember that Mary lived as she did while a wife and mother.  We sometimes may catch ourselves thinking of holy people in our lives and mentally making excuses for why we fall short.  Perhaps it is a priest, brother, or sister we admire, and we then think how much freedom we would have without the ever-present demands of family life.  Of course, we know that each Christian vocation has its own challenges and joys, and in Mary, we have someone who knows what is like to have a spouse and to pray for the safety and well-being of one’s child.  She managed all this while remaining true to God’s purpose for her.  Thus, she became an exemplary inspiration for us all.
            As we close our series on the Rosary, it is fitting that our final reflection surrounds Mary. She points us to God in all things, and she renews our hope that we, too, might accept the salvation offered to us. The rhythm of the Rosary is one the mimics our everyday lives. Much seems the same in our daily routine, but periodically, astounding and grace-filled moments occur. We have to ensure that the concerns of our day are not so prominent that they distract us from God’s actions because when we do notice them, we cannot help but be filled with gratitude. In the end, it is during our daily living that we ponder these things, like Mary, in our hearts.

The Fifth Joyful Mystery: The Finding in the Temple

The following is the eighteenth of twenty monthly reflections about the Mysteries of the Rosary as they relate to family life.  The mysteries will not be necessarily chronological but presented as they interact with the liturgical year.

            Summertime is when many families have a chance to go on a vacation.  And while these are meant to be relaxing excursions that facilitate some family bonding time, we probably all have tales of vacations that have gone awry.  These are the stories that are funny after the fact but in the moment cause a lot of stress.  I am sure each reader is bringing to mind a personal favorite, but many of us have a common story somewhere in our past: a lost child.  Though I could not fully understand a parent’s feeling of fear in such a moment until I became a father myself, losing a child is among the hardest things to experience while on a vacation.  My family still tells the story of when I was lost as a young boy at Santa’s Workshop in North Pole, Colorado.  I only vaguely recall walking around looking for my family, but I can tell you my parents remember it vividly! 
            Mary, of course, shares a similar experience in this month’s Rosary mystery, The Finding in the Temple.  As can sometimes happen when large groups get together, Joseph and Mary assume Jesus is with another caravan member on the return trek from Jerusalem following the Passover celebration.  Upon discovering he is missing, they quickly make their way back to Jerusalem.  They search for their son for three agonizing days until finally finding him in the Temple, curiously conversing with the religious leaders there.
            What happens next is quite interesting.  Mary, both relieved and frustrated with Jesus, questions him why he would do such a thing.  Jesus answers, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”  While it is tempting to dismiss this as a smart aleck remark from a pre-teen boy, there is something much more significant going on here.  Even though Jesus is many years away from embarking on his public ministry, we see that, in his human nature, Jesus is beginning to understand his mission.  While Mary and Joseph do not understand what he means at the time, it will later become apparent to them.
            This whole scene reminds me of a common exchange that happens throughout the development of a child.  Parents tend to want to hold on to children, to push pause on life and enjoy young children for as long as possible.  Children, on the other hand, are often eager to grow up, experience new freedoms, and make their mark on life.  This tension can produce some tears when milestones of graduations, moving to a new city, and making vocational commitments arise.
            When feeling this way as parents, I think it is important to remind ourselves of God’s plan for parenthood.  Children are gifts, given freely by God, and they come with tremendous responsibilities.  Not only do we need to care for their basic necessities, it is also our job to ensure they discover God’s plan for them and eventually help them to live forever in heaven.  Taking this long view, we realize that we do not own our children.  Rather, we shepherd and shape them for a time and then allow them to flourish in the ways God has planned.
            Naturally, this is easier said than done.  My wife and I constantly have older parents reminding us to cherish the time we have with our young family, and I am sure there will be emotional moments along the way where we will have to retreat to the comfort of home videos to relive these days.  Taking the example of Mary and Joseph, we can trust that our children are in God’s hands.  Even when we cannot understand everything that happens in life, we believe in a God who loves and cares for every single person unconditionally and who wants nothing more than to bring all of us home.

The Second Sorrowful Mystery: The Scourging at the Pillar

The following is the seventeenth of twenty monthly reflections about the Mysteries of the Rosary as they relate to family life.  The mysteries will not be necessarily chronological but presented as they interact with the liturgical year.

          “You are grounded!” These familiar words were heard by many of us during our childhoods when our behavior was not exactly where it was supposed to be. Losing privileges like going to a friend’s house, watching television, or playing with a toy were hard lessons when we did not live up to our family’s expectations and values. Of course, those punishments pale in comparison to the ultimate form of discipline for many of today’s teenagers: the loss of mobile phone privileges. No matter how we experienced discipline as children, the ultimate aim was to help us reorient our behavior towards a moral end and to help us choose and love what is right. However, sometimes the fear of getting in trouble was a much stronger motivator than anything else!

          In the case of childhood, punishment is usually justified by poor or sinful behavior, but in this month’s Rosary mystery, we have a situation of an innocent man being punished. Jesus is there, having done nothing wrong, and yet he endures some of the cruelest punishment imaginable for our sake. It is amazing to consider the strength of his will to go through with something as painful as a scourging, knowing that all these events would eventually lead to his bodily death.
          What is our response to the realization of such self-sacrificial love? We can only consider the enormity of Christ’s gift every so often, and it can become easy to take it for granted. Even the words that we use to describe Jesus’ punishment and death do not really do justice to the reality of what they were. The Romans had nearly perfected methods of torture meant to produce tremendous pain while leaving subjects alive for prolonged periods. A medical description of what actually happened during a scourging or crucifixion like Jesus’ is not for the faint of heart. No matter what, to prayerfully meditate upon the depth of Jesus’ sacrifice is a fruitful exercise for all of us.
          When we do consider this well and come to a place of gratitude, another curious thing happens in our relationship with God. Instead of living in fear of a punishing God, we begin to flee from our sinful past and inclinations and become motivated by love to do what is right. It is actually a sign of a somewhat immature faith when we only act out of fear. Our goal is to see our sins as violations of a relationship more sacred than any other. We are disappointed with ourselves when we fail in that regard, and we become quick to seek reconciliation when we have done wrong.
          A similar transformation happens during childhood as we mature in our relationship with our parents. Those experiences and lessons can guide the healthy transition in our lives of faith. Grateful for the love of God as shown by Jesus in his suffering and death, we find ourselves seeking to show that love in return by offering ourselves in sacrificial love to others. Rather than being afraid to make a wrong move, we live in the freedom of a life infused by God’s will and guidance.

The Second Glorious Mystery: The Ascension

The following is the sixteenth of twenty monthly reflections about the Mysteries of the Rosary as they relate to family life.  The mysteries will not be necessarily chronological but presented as they interact with the liturgical year.

          As summer approaches, so do the opportunities to view fireworks. We seem never to tire of the marvelous displays of light and color, often set to music, as they grab our attention and stir our emotions. When I was a young boy, no Fourth of July would be complete without having a chance to view the fireworks, and even with many years and memories in between, I still have vivid recollections of seeing such displays with my family. However, even with all that fun and fanfare, I have found that, as a parent, I now enjoy fireworks from an entirely new perspective.
          Instead of watching the fireworks themselves, I often find myself turning around and watching their reflection in the eyes of my children. The sparks of light and flashes of color have a unique and distinct beauty when seen in those dilated pupils. I do not even miss witnessing the original show as I get to see the joy and wonder in those angelic faces, transfixed by the sights in the sky above them.
          I imagine a similar scene in this month’s Rosary mystery, the Ascension. Described in Acts 1:6-12, Jesus’ followers have been reveling in his resurrected return as he has repeatedly proven the reality of his new life. And then, rather suddenly, he is taken from them. I see them there in my mind’s eye, with their gaze fixed on the heavens that have just received the Lord. Perhaps they are imagining all that had taken place in the recent past and still trying to make sense of it. With Jesus’ second departure, the first being his death, they are probably feeling once again the uncertainty of what to do or where to go next. Jesus, in his life, teachings, miracles, and passion, has held their attention for so long, they do not yet know where to look now.
          It is during this time of introspection and immobility that “two men dressed in white,” presumably angels, inquire as to why the group is staring at the sky. The messengers assure those gathered that Jesus will someday return to Earth in a comparable manner. It is a message of hope in preparation for the coming of the Holy Spirt.
          This whole story prompts certain questions for me. Most prominently, what holds our attention in such a way now? We often seem preoccupied with our smartphones, social media, work, material possessions, and the like. Though advances in technology and work are supposed to have made life easier, we cannot often find a way to give our time to worthier endeavors such as quality time with family and friends, silent prayer or adoration, and scriptural or spiritual reading. We give our attention to what holds the most value for us, and taking time to reassess is always a worthwhile endeavor.
          The Ascension is a good reminder of what is actually of great value and of where we hope to join Jesus someday. Reaffirming our commitment to our faith will ensure that we are ready for our own moment of transition from this world to the next. As the men in white reminded the Apostles, Jesus will come again. Will we be watching for him?

The First Sorrowful Mystery: The Agony in the Garden

The following is the fifteenth of twenty monthly reflections about the Mysteries of the Rosary as they relate to family life.  The mysteries will not be necessarily chronological but presented as they interact with the liturgical year.

          A few weeks ago, I had the unique opportunity to attend the Mass of Dedication for our new church building. Though I had heard stories of church dedications, it was my first chance to attend such an event. It was a momentous one, filled with many lasting occasions of joy and celebration, many things which I hope never to forget. Of all the rich symbolism that marked the day, there was one moment that stood out to me above all the rest, and it stayed with me even as I considered this month’s rosary mystery.

          A short while after Bishop Kevin Rhoades anointed the altar with, as advertised, copious amounts of sacred chrism, several women of our parish approached the newly sacred table with white cloths to dry it before the Liturgy of the Eucharist. I found myself mesmerized by their actions, made with such grace, gentleness, reverence, and care. It reminded me of a family preparing for a most important banquet or a mother tenderly wiping the forehead of a feverish child. All movements were filled with purpose and fueled by love. It was a sight that summoned emotion and memory for me more than any other that day.
          As we just concluded Holy Week and the Sacred Triduum, many similar scenes played out in our minds while we listened to the scriptures and walked the Way of the Cross. We heard of Mary, sister of Lazarus, anointing Jesus at Bethany as if preparing him for burial. We remembered Veronica’s and Simon’s humble service and the compassionate weeping of Jerusalem’s women. We visualized our Blessed Mother and the beloved disciple as they stood at the foot of the cross during Christ’s final breaths. In all these instances, there was a tenderness and grace present to the Lord during a time of great need.
          However, in another moment of this most sacred story, there was no human tenderness to assist Jesus, and that is during the Agony in the Garden. Jesus implored Peter, James, and John to watch and pray, and he went off to pray with astounding humanity and intensity. Instead of heeding Jesus’ instructions or caring for a clearly distressed man, the disciples fell asleep. It is a time where Jesus could have clearly used some human support, but instead, he begins to feel the abandonment that would reoccur in the coming final hours.
          While we hope to have many people around us in our families and friends to support us, each one of us goes through our own agonies in life, times when we feel abandoned by those who love us, times when we long for help and find little. When these happen, we find ourselves distressed and wearied in the same way that the human Jesus was, but we also find inspiration in his perseverance. He did not abandon his vocation and calling, and he eventually found some human compassion as the road to Calvary continued.
          Even after Jesus’ death, people cared for him enough to take his body down from the cross and prepare it for burial. I imagine a group of people surrounding him, just as the women of our parish surrounded our new altar, gently wiping and cleaning something so sacred. May we be inspired to perform such small acts of kindness for others as well. Though they may seem insignificant in the whole of life, they might be the exact thing that someone needs in a trying time and can remind people that we ultimately are a people of Easter hope. After all, of all the important people and happenings of the Dedication Mass, it was the humble service of holy women with what could have seemed an insignificant task that most helped my heart soar with gratitude for our new church and the people of our parish.

The First Joyful Mystery: The Annunciation

The following is the fourteenth of twenty monthly reflections about the Mysteries of the Rosary as they relate to family life.  The mysteries will not be necessarily chronological but presented as they interact with the liturgical year.

          I remember well where I was when I heard the news: we are going to build a new church. Being a member of the parish and on staff at the time, I knew the challenges we faced with space. However, an entirely new church was still a sobering proposition, one that came with many questions. Before I considered the architectural plans, the timing of such a project, or the status of our current church, one central question loomed the largest in my mind. While you may think it was where the choir would be sitting, it was actually more financial in nature, namely, how much is this going to cost?
          Since we are soon to celebrate the Solemnity of the Annunciation, I thought it was a perfect fit for our rosary mystery this month, and it holds a great deal of meaning for the building of our new church at St. Pius X. So much of this story is instructive. The angel Gabriel comes to Mary, a young, betrothed virgin, and proclaims that she is to have a child. Bewildered, her first question is, “How can this be?” Gabriel gives the explanation of the Holy Spirit’s involvement, which, quite frankly, would have produced some follow-up questions for me! But Mary, model of faith in God, does not ask more questions. Instead, she gives one of the most profound statements in all of Scripture and even human history, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”
          Notice that she does not ask, “How much will this cost me?” In truth, it was going to cost her a great deal, probably more than she could have ever imagined as a young maiden. Her heart would be pierced with sorrows throughout her days, and yet she always trusted that God’s grace was working through her to produce something greater than she could have ever done alone.
          We have such moments in life where we have a decision of great significance before us. I think of my wedding day where my wife and I made vows to each other and to God without knowing at all what those promises would truly ask of us as it came to living our married life. It may have scared us away to know everything all at once! Or each time that we have been open to life and accepted children into our family, we had no idea the total cost or what the future would hold. Finally, I think of our parish family, as we stand upon the precipice of opening a new church building that is an answer to the Holy Spirit’s movement in our community. While we can put a dollar amount on the project, behind that are tremendous examples of generosity and sacrifice, even beyond the financial, that were put forth without knowing exactly how this would turn out.
          Like Mary, we strive to get the point of praying that God’s will be done. This does not, of course, mean that we do not exercise prudence in taking vows, having children, or building churches. It is indeed very biblical to plan to ensure that enough resources exist to accomplish any of these undertakings. But if we get hung up on the cost, we would never have the courage and conviction to do anything worthwhile.
          Here is the amazing thing. It is our “yes,” mingled with God’s transformative grace, that produces things exceeding our wildest dreams. Marriages that last 50 years or more, children bringing tremendous joy despite their many needs, and churches rising from the ground in the face of significant secular headwinds do not simply happen by chance. These are labors of love that have cooperated with and placed complete reliance on God’s most holy will. They are examples of great witness that will last for many, many years to come. They boldly proclaim that this was a group of people who served God and neighbor, who trusted that their sacrifices placed at God’s altar could grow to unimaginable heights. This a was family, who, when faced with a substantial challenge and stood at a crossroads, followed the example of the Blessed Virgin and said, “Let your will be done!”

The Fourth Joyful Mystery: The Presentation in the Temple

The following is the thirteenth of twenty monthly reflections about the Mysteries of the Rosary as they relate to family life.  The mysteries will not be necessarily chronological but presented as they interact with the liturgical year.

            When a baby is born, there are various presentations that take place.  One of my favorites as a father has been presenting my newborn children to their mother Stephanie for the first time.  She has, after all, been doing all the work!  But when I have placed our babies cheek to cheek with their mother, any difficulty has been momentarily forgotten, and I have had one of the rare chances in life to witness pure, uninterrupted joy.  However, the presentation I most closely associate with this month’s rosary mystery is when my wife and I have brought our children to baptism.  Like Joseph and Mary, we have fulfilled a hope and expectation of the religious heritage we wish to pass along as a precious gift to our children.  Whenever we have done so, my mind has inevitably drifted to my children’s and my future as well.  How will we shape them to be holy people?  Will we be as proud to present them to God in eternal life as we were on their baptismal day?  And finally, am I directing my own life in a way that others would happily present on the day of salvation?

            There are many moments in life when we prepare each other or ourselves for presentations of some sort.  I think of a parent talking with a son or daughter about how to act on a first date, a friend or counselor putting someone through a mock interview before the real one, or the small army of assistants a bride sometimes has in preparation for a wedding!  All of these presentations are for pivotal moments in life, but we do run the risk of only concerning ourselves with passing things such as what clothes we are wearing, our physical appearance, or our social or career status should we be successful.

            Our sacred imagination leads us to ponder a different sort of principles in considering life’s presentations.  We think about treating a first date with respect, if a certain career move will enable us to glorify God with our talents, or if we have sufficiently prepared to honor the marriage vows our whole lives.  In short, we begin to view things from a divine rather than human lens.

            I can only wonder at Mary and Joseph’s thoughts as they spoke with Simeon at Jesus’ presentation.  They had already been through a great many remarkable things surrounding Jesus’ birth: the angelic announcement, the pre-marital crisis, the journey to Bethlehem, the stable, and the extraordinary visitors.  Now they were in front of a man who had prayed for preservation from death until he would meet their child.  Many of Simeon’s words would inspire excitement about Jesus’ potential, but they were also laced with a sense of foreboding. Talk of Jesus being a sign of contraction and his life a source of sorrows for Mary are not typical things a person would say about an infant.  Yet, here again we have someone viewing things as God does instead of how human beings might.

            This story inspires us to change our perspective.  Instead of being overly concerned with the minor presentations that will be a part of our lives, we take a longer look and consider everything in light of our final presentation before God at the end of our lives.  And when we are at our best and most loving, we help others to do the same instead of sidetracking them with trivial matters.  As St. Paul suggests in his Letter to the Philippians, “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

The First Luminous Mystery: The Baptism in the Jordan

The following is the twelfth of twenty monthly reflections about the Mysteries of the Rosary as they relate to family life.  The mysteries will not be necessarily chronological but presented as they interact with the liturgical year.

            My wife Stephanie and I have a running joke between us.  I ask her if there is anywhere she would like to go on vacation, and she quickly answers, “Somewhere with a beach.”  Of course, we have found that there is a difference between the idyllic beach scene in her mind and the reality of being by water with young kids in tow.  Usually, it means that Stephanie is managing “the bag,” filled with enough supplies to guide us through any number of misadventures that could be in store, and while she covers home base on the beach, I am out in the water with my aspiring but not yet functioning swimmers.  Whenever someone approaches the water and is uncertain about swimming ability or the unseen terrain, our instinctive reaction is to hold out our hands in support, and this image came to me as I reflected on our rosary mystery this month.

             I do not know exactly what the physical interaction between John the Baptist and Jesus looked like at Christ’s baptism in the Jordan River.  We have record in the various gospel accounts of the words and happenings, but we must imagine ourselves the details of the larger scene.  I imagine John, already standing in the water, reaching his hands out to Jesus as he approached.  It is a reassuring gesture to prepare for the coming event, and the dialogue between the two men show how it is curious that this interplay is happening at all.  After all, Jesus is certainly not in need of a baptism of repentance, and we often hear John admit that Jesus is the far greater of the two.  What exactly is Jesus doing going into this water?

            A myriad of reasons has emerged over the millennia as each generation considers this event, but I would like to highlight two.  The first is that Jesus is showing us the way to follow.  After he emerges from the baptismal waters, we can imagine that Jesus has figuratively invited each of us to follow suit, holding out his hands as we enter the water ourselves and become members of the Body of Christ.  It helps to follow someone who has gone before us.

            The second reason that I find important is that Jesus is already prefiguring his death on the cross.  The interplay of water as both a cleansing agent and source of danger and death is present here.  Baptism not only washes away our sins but also asks us to die to our former selves.  Those hands of support are essential to keep the fear of drowning at bay, but the interesting thing about Jesus is that he invites us down into the water to, in a way, drown our old selves and emerge as a new person, freed from sin.  The reason that baptism is effective in this way is because of Christ’s death on the cross.  By submitting to baptism in the Jordan, Jesus shows that he is willing to die for us and will soon enough do so.

Just as Jesus’ life does not end with death but resurrection, our baptism does not end with death but moves to rebirth and adoption.  Because Jesus first shows us the way, we have the courage to enter the water ourselves, knowing that we will never be the same and changed for the better.  Even if we cannot remember the event of our baptism, we continue to affirm its meaning as we sign ourselves with holy water, renew our baptismal promises during Easter, and continue to follow Jesus in the way that we live our lives.  Let us then again reach out and take Jesus’ hands.  We know that in following him, we will end up where our hearts most desire to go.