Today’s feast, the Baptism of the Lord, is a tiny bit bizarre. It closes the liturgical period of Christmastide but doesn’t belong to it. On the other hand, this feast opens the Ordinary time but doesn’t belong to it either. The Feast of the Baptism of the Lord is like one of its main characters, John the Baptist. He closes the period we call the Old Testament – the time of God’s promises, prophecies and anticipation – but he doesn’t belong to it because, unlike the prophets of old, he actually points at the one who will fulfil all those promises, prophecies and anticipation, Jesus. However, John the Baptist dies a martyr before Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, the two events that are effectively the fulfilment of the Old Testament. He seems to belong neither to the Old nor to the New Testament. Sounds a bit like a man with an identity crisis…
I’d call today’s Feast a maturity switch. The cosy, nice and fluffy Christmas is over and it’s time to get serious. Having waxed lyrical about the baby Jesus, shepherds, donkeys and all sorts of other animals, now it’s time to land back on earth. Today’s biblical readings make such a call very clear. Oh, here we go again… The professional killjoy is back at work… Or am I?
Christianity is often perceived as a guilt-inducing religion of self-denial, self-flagellation and misery. So, when you hear ‘let’s get serious about our faith’ it sounds as attractive as an invitation to tooth extraction. Christmas is so popular because most people don’t take it seriously. Isn’t life tough enough without having to voluntarily add self-made gloom to it? If that is – more or less – your reaction to hearing ‘let’s get serious about our faith’, it’s time to remodel your understanding of the Christian faith.
Let’s come back to today’s first reading. ‘Listen, listen to me, and you will have good things to eat and rich food to enjoy. Pay attention, come to me; listen, and your soul will live.’ This is a florid and pictorial presentation of fulfilment and wholesomeness, achieved as a result of listening to and following God. It’s an alternative offer to that of modern culture, which is focused on poor substitutes: unrestricted, unlimited and perpetual fun and pleasure. Though not evil in their own right, they can do a lot of damage when they become the purpose of life, not by-products that accompany other, more valuable achievements. The first reading conveys that in another metaphorical expression: ‘Why spend money on what is not bread, your wages on what fails to satisfy?’ The main problem with fun and pleasure as the purpose of one’s life is self-centeredness and selfishness. In pursuit of fun and pleasure, everything and everyone can be used or exploited or trampled on. Many of our problems, from domestic through to societal, are caused by this kind of attitude. We only notice this when someone’s sense of entitlement encroaches on ours, but we rarely pay attention when it’s the other way round.
The Christian faith offers an alternative life purpose: a sense of fulfilment and joy. Unlike fun and pleasure, instant gratification is not always on the cards. But neither is this kind of happiness achieved in the afterlife, as many believe. I’ll give you a silly example while unintentionally presenting myself as a model to imitate (not really…) On the morning of Christmas Eve I woke up to ‘damn white Christmas’; St Joseph’s car park was covered with snow. I dutifully set out to clear it using a snow shovel, then to grit it. Walking up and down the car park while pushing the shovel was no fun or pleasure; it was cold, windy and murderously boring. I could have been doing so many other things that were more fun. But when I finished I had a deep sense of satisfaction. Later on that day, when the grit had completed the job and the car park was clean and ice-free, it made me so happy to see people arriving for Midnight Mass and safely walking into the church and then back to their cars through the car park. Although nobody thanked me for that – because nobody knew – I felt very content and satisfied.
I guess all this sounds a bit strange or even alien to our world obsessed with chasing various illusions of happiness; because it is, as illustrated in this figurative passage from the first reading: ‘my thoughts are not your thoughts, my ways not your ways – it is the Lord who speaks. Yes, the heavens are as high above earth as my ways are above your ways, my thoughts above your thoughts.’ That’s why we are called to ‘listen, listen to me, and you will have good things to eat and rich food to enjoy. Pay attention, come to me; listen, and your soul will live.’