The Baptism of Jesus and Feeling Seen
Just after sunset on a cold January day, I arrived back to eastern Wisconsin after a week long Christmas break at my parents’ home in Missouri. I slipped into a 5:30 Monday evening Mass, and smiled when I noticed my boyfriend had arrived ahead of me and was kneeling in prayer. I slid into the pew next to him and Mass began. It was just a normal Mass, day after the Feast of the Epiphany, week before the Baptism of Jesus.
During the Prayers of the Faithful, much to my embarrassment, Father added an extra petition: “And I see that Kate has returned safely to us after her travels, so we thank God for her safe return and for her presence and ministry here at our parish, we pray to the Lord”. My face must have turned the same rose hue as my turtleneck sweater. Though his prayer was a kind thought, and a nice welcome after a long day of driving, I still felt embarrassingly called out.
Later, during the Sign of Peace, rather than a simple handshake, my boyfriend hugged me. A hug made sense, after all we hadn’t seen each other in a week. Yet still my mind raced thinking “Oh dear, do the elderly ladies behind us think a hug is inappropriate here? Does my boss know I’m dating someone? Is anyone going to say anything?” Though it was a kind, even sensible gesture, something in me just couldn’t rest in his brief hug since I was wondering if eyes were on me.
Later during Mass, I talked to the Lord about it: “Jesus, I feel so oddly seen during this Mass. Between Father’s prayer and David’s hug, I get that they appreciate me, but it’s a little extravagant.” In a way that only He could, the Lord answered my worry and called me back to focus on the Eucharistic prayer with a gentle reminder to my heart: “No matter what happens, the most extravagant display of love at this Mass, and at every Mass, is Mine.” Jesus calmed my distraction and caused me to reflect on His own extravagant love.
Later that week, I read the upcoming Sunday’s Gospel, the account of the Baptism of Jesus. After Jesus was baptized: “the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” (Luke 3:22). The Holy Spirit descended and the voice of the Father proclaiming love and truth over Jesus was heard in front of a crowd of people. That’s very extravagant. And Jesus wasn’t embarrassed, He didn’t run from love, He didn’t wonder what other people thought, He just received the love being spoken over Him by the Father.
How do I shrink away from love (either the love of God, or the love of people in my life)?
Can I go back and imagine God the Father’s gaze at me at the moment of my own baptism and rest in that extravagant love?
Who in my life needs to hear love and truth spoken over them?
