The Baptism of the Lord C
“What’s
wrong?” his father asked.
“Well,”
answered the boy,
“the priest said he wanted us
to be brought up in a good Christian home…
“the priest said he wanted us
to be brought up in a good Christian home…
…but
I want to stay with you guys!”
Friday
night, while sitting by the Christmas tree one last time,
Fr.
Stitt shared a story from his recent vocations work.
He’d
been speaking with the mother
of a rather active Catholic family,
of a rather active Catholic family,
whose
teenage son would be
a
fine candidate for the priesthood.
The
young man has even admitted that,
when
he hears the readings at Mass,
he
often thinks about what he would say
if standing
in the pulpit to preach.
So
Fr. Stitt asked,
“Have
you ever talked to your son
about
the possibility of the priesthood?”
The
mom said, “Not really.”
She
said that she didn’t want to “push.”
“If
God wants him to be a priest,
then
I just figure he’ll make it happen somehow.”
We believe
that God feeds us, right?
The
Bible tells us he can do it in rather miraculous ways.
The
Lord rained down manna for his people to eat in the desert.
Jesus
multiplied loaves and fish for the hungry crowd on the hillside.
But
most of the time,
God
feeds us through much more ordinary ways:
through
the hard work of farmers and gardeners,
of grocers
and cooks.
And
we all believe that God speaks to us, right?
We even
believe that, as occurred at Jesus’ Baptism,
on
rare occasions the Lord’s voice has been heard
coming
straight from the heavens.
But
more often than not,
God
speaks in much less remarkable ways:
through
the pages of Scripture and the teaching of the Church,
through
the words of a sermon or the good counsel of a friend.
of depending
upon simple human instruments
to
accomplish his greatest works.
John
the Baptist
is an unmistakable example.
is an unmistakable example.
“One
mightier than I is coming,” John testifies.
“While
I baptize with water,
he
will baptize with
the Holy Spirit and with fire.”
the Holy Spirit and with fire.”
There
are many wondrous ways
in
which God could have revealed
that this man, Jesus,
that this man, Jesus,
is
his Only Begotten and much-beloved Son.
Yet
God chose to do it
at the hands of an eccentric preacher
at the hands of an eccentric preacher
perched
on the banks of a lazy river.
Jesus,
of course,
did not need to be baptized
did not need to be baptized
for
the forgiveness of his sins—as we do.
But
just as he went down
into the waters of the Jordan,
so the Son of God fully immersed himself
into the waters of the Jordan,
so the Son of God fully immersed himself
in
our human condition—even unto death—
that
he might in turn cleanse and renew us.
At
his Baptism—another Epiphany—
Jesus’
true identity and vocation
are made clear:
are made clear:
God’s
grace has appeared in the flesh,
that
we might become heirs
in hope of eternal life.
in hope of eternal life.
At Baptism,
whether as a child or an adult,
each
and every one of us was given a vocation.
Although
it’s not a word coming out of our Catholic tradition,
to
speak of Baptism as a “christening” [a Christ-ening]
points
to the sacrament as a life-changing reality:
we
are all called by the Father
and
anointed by the Holy Spirit
to
make Christ present in our own time and place.
Deep
down, this is our truest identity!
And
this general Christian vocation takes shape
in
many particular vocations:
in
the vocations of husbands and wives,
who
give witness to Christ’s love by their fidelity;
in
the vocations of fathers and mothers,
who
keep Christ at the center of their families;
in
the vocations of single persons,
who
reveal Christ’s face in their neighborhoods
and
parishes and schools and workplaces;
in
the vocations of deacons, priests, and bishops,
who
make Christ known in their ministry of Word and Sacrament;
and
in the vocations of consecrated religious men and women
who
point to Christ dwelling among us
by
their vows, their common life,
and
the distinct charisms of their communities.
By
Baptism, we become members of the one Body of Christ—
a worldwide
web that connects the human family in a way
which
makes Facebook or Twitter look like child’s play.
Thus
every vocation comes with the duty to foster other vocations.
If the
only food we ate was that which came to us miraculously,
then
we’d be on one heck of a diet.
And
if the only divine guidance we expected or accepted
came
by direct heavenly intervention—
well,
just look around at the world today,
and
you can see where that would lead.
During
this Year of Faith,
Pope
Benedict XVI has challenged us
to
draw people back to the Catholic faith
or
to lead them there for the first time.
Many
of you have shared inspiring stories with me
of
how your own efforts to do so have paid off.
If
you don’t share your faith with family, friends, and neighbors,
then
who will?
The
same is true with Church vocations.
I
know for myself
that
if my parents and grandparents hadn’t been so insistent
on
the regular practice of our Catholic faith;
that
if my parish priests when growing up
hadn’t
taken such personal interest in my future;
that
if my Catholic school teachers, catechists,
and
even fellow parishioners
hadn’t
spoken to me specifically about the priestly vocation
they
believed they could see growing within me,
then
I wouldn’t be standing here at this pulpit and altar today.
The
Lord is calling,
just
as he always has.
Are
we ready to help others hear his voice?
If
God wants those who wander like sheep without a shepherd
to
come take their place in his fold;
if
God wants our young people
to
embrace his plan for them
through
vocations of service in the Church—
I
firmly believe he can make that happen somehow.
And
that “somehow” is you and me.
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