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?

An Invitation

Several years ago, when I was still in college, a local missionary asked to meet me for coffee. It was the week before the fall semester, I had time on my hands, and someone else paying for my raspberry white chocolate mocha sounded good to me. I was so intrigued by this woman just a few years older than me who was a missionary full time, that would take a lot of trust in God and a lot of letting go of other career goals, at least for a while. 

I was already a reasonably committed Catholic. I went to Mass often, I tried to pray, I had even spent  just a summer as a missionary.

She sat across from me and asked about how cross country camp was going, what classes I was looking forward to, and what my hopes for the year were. She asked about my summer travels and listened and laughed with me as I recounted my whirlwind month in Germany and Rome. 

Finally, she asked about my relationship with Jesus. I was a little confused. I had already told her I go to Mass often, that I prayed pretty often, that I didn’t drink as much as my friends did. Then, she put so simply, what I knew I had been often missing or over complicating.

“Kate, you were made for a relationship with God. He formed you and He looked at you with so much love and called you His daughter before you even knew Him. That relationship is broken by sin. But Jesus came to earth, to live like us in all things but sin, to heal that relationship with humanity. To heal that relationship with you. He’d do it all again if you were the only person alive. In every moment of your day, He’s asking for your yes to being in relationship with Him. To living in His love and from His love. He offers you the Sacraments in the Church to strengthen that relationship.”

I’d never heard it put that simply. “You were made for a relationship with God. Sin breaks that relationship. Jesus came to forgive you and restore your relationship with Him. He asks for your yes to Him each day. He gives you grace in the Church to live in His love.”

I had been Catholic all my life, I was prayerful, but there was something about this simple truth that kept ringing in my memory. In the coming months, in moments I was tempted to gossip, drink a little more than I should, criticize someone, or skip out on prayer time the simplicity of that missionary’s gospel proclamation stirred in my memory. “You were made for a relationship. This sin would damage that relationship. Jesus is offering you the grace to say yes and remain in His love.”

That’s true for each of us, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection is His grand invitation back to relationship with God. Let Him look at you today and remind you that you were created for an everlasting relationship with Him and it starts in this moment. Say yes to Him.

Do you believe that God really wants a personal relationship with you? How can you let Him remind you of that today?

When’s the last time you turned from sin and said yes to Jesus by going to reconciliation?

Is there someone in your life who needs to hear this simple message of the Gospel? What’s holding you back from sharing it with them?