Baptism of the Lord [A]: Is 42:1-4, 6-7; Acts 10:34-38; Mt 3:13-17

In the church’s liturgical year, the feast of the Baptism of the Lord concludes the Christmas season. We move quickly from the birth of Jesus to his baptism—from the child hidden in Nazareth to the adult beginning his public mission. The Church invites us to shift our gaze from the crib to the Jordan, from the hidden years of private growth to the public moment when the Son steps forward to be revealed.

From the outset, we must recognize that this is not the same baptism we receive when we enter the Church, though they are deeply intertwined. John’s baptism was a penitential act, undertaken by those who acknowledged their sins and wished to turn their lives back to God. People went down into the Jordan confessing their failures and desiring a fresh start. We can imagine the scene: crowds lining up for a baptism of repentance, and among them stands the one who is sinless, the one whom John had foretold. Understandably, John tries to prevent Jesus, saying, “It is I who need baptism from you… and yet you come to me!” In this moment, John recognizes that Jesus has no need to be reoriented toward God, because he is God made man, the Holy One standing among sinners.   

So why does Jesus undergo a baptism he does not need? From a theological perspective, this should not surprise us. As St. Thomas Aquinas explains, God did not need to become incarnate to redeem humanity; he could have done so in another way. Yet God chose to dwell among us in the person of Jesus. This choice was not strictly necessary, but it was "fitting," revealing the humility and nearness of God.

Throughout Christ’s life, we see God’s desire to be in complete solidarity with humanity. By assuming a human nature, Christ takes on everything essential to being human in order to redeem and sanctify it from within. We are so accustomed to sin that we often think it is part of what it means to be human. When someone fails, we say, “He’s only human.” But theologically, sin is not natural to humanity; it is a distortion of it. Sin is like a hole in a sock—something that does not belong there, a tear in what God created good.   

All of us know what it is like to feel isolated because of our sins or ashamed of our thoughts and actions. Such experiences can distance us from others and lead us to believe that God would want nothing to do with us. We may be tempted to hide, to stay away from prayer, from the sacraments, and from the community of believers. Today’s feast reminds us that God knows us as we are and still chooses to associate himself with us. He stands in line with sinners; he steps into the water with them. He is among us to guide, heal, and redeem.   

Christ’s baptism also reminds us that, although we are sinners and deeply loved by God, we are called to repentance. Repentance is the gateway through which God’s divine life bears fruit in us. Jesus himself had no need to repent, yet by receiving a baptism of repentance—and by giving the Church the sacrament of Reconciliation as a fruit of his sacrifice on Calvary—he shows us the Christian way: it is a way of continual turning back to the Father whose love never ceases.   

In this act, he identifies himself with the broken and the burdened so completely that nothing truly human, except sin itself, is foreign to him. Matthew has already named him Emmanuel, God‑with‑us; in the Jordan, Emmanuel steps into the water with us. He will later share tables with tax collectors and finally be crucified between two criminals. He begins his public ministry as he will end it: standing with sinners so as to save them from within their condition.   

The baptism of Jesus in the Jordan is the pattern for all Christian baptisms. The same Holy Spirit who comes down on Jesus is poured out on each of the baptized. The words addressed to Jesus, “This is my beloved Son,” in some sense echo over every font: “This is my beloved son, this is my beloved daughter; my favour rests on this child.” In baptism, Christ draws us into his own relationship with the Father so that, with the Spirit of the Son in our hearts, we can cry out “Abba, Father” as he did. His God becomes our God; his Father becomes our Father; his inheritance of eternal life becomes our destiny.   

Because of this, baptism is not just a beautiful family occasion from the past or a date on a certificate. It is the foundation of our Christian identity and the source of our deepest dignity. Today is a good day to remember our baptism, to thank God for the grace first given then, and to pray for those—parents, godparents, and community—who brought us to the font. The more we remember our baptism, the more clearly we hear the Father’s quiet word in prayer: “You are my beloved,” even when our failures suggest otherwise.   

His baptism was the day when Jesus began to do the Father’s work in earnest. The day of our baptism had a similar significance. Baptism is not only a moment of grace; it is a moment when we are entrusted with a share in Christ’s mission. Having been anointed with the Spirit, we are sent to bring God’s justice and mercy to others. This means caring for the most vulnerable, making sure not to break the "bruised reed" or quench the "wavering flame," as Isaiah says of the Servant.

Most of us were given this calling at an age when we were too young to understand it. We spend our lives growing into what that early anointing really means. On this feast, the Church invites us to renew our baptismal promises: to reject whatever distorts God’s image in us and to believe again in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Standing with Jesus in the Jordan, we ask for the grace to live as beloved sons and daughters, making our daily work, our relationships, and our service a true continuation of Christ’s mission in the world. May the Lord help us to renew in us the grace of baptism today.