Conversion Forward

(Mk 1:14-20)

It is not the call of the leader, but the invitation of the Friend, who lives in the first person what he announces, exposing himself.

It is he who risks and precedes, presenting himself as the Lamb. He does not sit down to lecture and teach doctrines.

His "Glad Tidings" (v.15) reveals a divine face opposite to the one preached by the official guides: the Father does not absorb our energies, but gives them in fullness and freely.

'Convert and believe in the Gospel' is in fact an endiad: the two co-ordinated terms 'convert and believe' express the same meaning. But not in a separatist or doctrinal sense.

In short:

The Kingdom is near if through our involvement God comes to earth to replace the trance, and happiness knocks at the door.

Transformation that comes; change that breaks through. We do not even plan it in detail; we do not build it like scaffolding.

It turns us to something profoundly new: choices of light instead of judgement, possession, the exercise of power, the display of glory.

The Baptist pretended to prepare for the coming of the Messiah; Jesus proclaims the Kingdom already near and profoundly conformed to mankind - present, therefore simply to be welcomed, to be lived to the full.

Following John [pupil, together with his first disciples] the new Master had definitively grasped the difference between ascetic - reductionist - dynamics and the Father's plan of salvation.

It was a stimulus towards an all-round humanisation based on the exchange of gifts, the creative freedom of love, and a spirit of broad understanding.

The Son's luminous and universal mission is not understood except by very few - all fragile and unimportant people - and is slow to assert itself.

It is too difficult to make the long-established religious Judaizers and their established realities believe that no one has exclusivity: all must just accept the new Covenant Promises.

Until John [even more famous than Christ even during his public life] is imprisoned and silenced, the Son of God lives almost in the shadow of the Forerunner (cf. Jn 3:22-23).

Then he is forced to flee even from his small, traditionalist and nationalist village (Mt 4:12-13).

No one could believe in a divine reality without great proclamations and arduous conditions.

No one would have imagined a widespread Jerusalem, already among us, so spontaneous, ordinary and wide-ranging - transcending but bringing us all together.

Too difficult to pass from the idea of the imminence of the empire of power, to its unitive, not clamorous Presence - in the Person of a servant Messiah, not a self-sufficient executioner.

Such closeness, nothing exceptional, like his faithful - 'converted' both from the religion of the fathers and from paganism, therefore marginalised.

In the First Testament, Galilee appears only in passing, because the observant Jews did not appreciate its contamination of beliefs.

Yet, that region of suspicious people becomes the land of change.

In concrete terms, the unexpected invitation to conversion on the soil of Galilee means: "Turn the scale of values!".

There is indeed a freedom to be regained, but the scene is swift, because the young Master teaches not in the way know-it-alls do: with life.

To Abraham God says "Go to the land that I will show you". Jesus does not say 'Go', but 'Come'.

Abraham is only an envoy; the disciple of Christ on the way proposes a Person, his whole story.

He is interested in real life: he does not advocate a return to the Temple, to the ancient religion, to the cult that was supposed to have patched up the already recognised practice.

Thus, here are the first ones called: from 'fishermen' to 'fishers of men' (vv.16-17). The meaning of the expression is clearer in Lk 5:10 [Greek text].

Our mission is to lift to life those who are no longer breathing, and suffocating, enveloped by raging waves (the forces of negativity).

The Apostle's real task is to bring everyone out of the polluted sphere, where people live in a dehumanising way.

And to place everyone in transparent water, with values that are no longer those of the folded and corrupt society - a habitat of obsessive blockades, useful only to the strong, the quick-witted and the cunning.

The Son of God calls to invite us to cut away that which degrades the experience of personal fullness.

He promotes in everyone the DNA of the communal God. Transmitted inwardly and unconditionally.

[Commenting on the passage in the Tao Tê Ching (LXV), Master Ho-shang Kung points out:

"The man who possesses the mysterious virtue is opposed to and different from creatures: the latter want to increase themselves, the mysterious virtue bestows on others"].

Fundamental is to abandon the "nets" (v.18): that which entangles, impedes, arrests. Even the "boat" (v.20), that is, the way of managing work.

Even the "father" (v. 20): the imposed tradition, which obscures the New Light.

All links to be broken.

For the Lord must begin far from the observant region and the holy city - Judea, Jerusalem the capital.

It means a new approach, even if the previous life can continue in it.

But the values are no longer static and trivial: seeking consensus, settling down, keeping to oneself; so on.

Fatuous flickers, inculcating outward idols.

Too 'regular' and normal, uniforming; without uniqueness or decisive peaks. They pose a thousand obstacles to the free expression we are entitled to.

To give these unheard-of impulses, Jesus does not choose sacred environments and perhaps devout people who could not regenerate anyone.

He glosses over the palaces of the court, from which nothing would be born (cf. Jn 4:1-4).

Nor does He designate anyone with the title that belongs to Him alone: 'Shepherd'.

And even today it is still unclear why all denominational traditions are (then immediately) filled with 'shepherds', i.e. guides, teachers, directors of the 'flock'.

We need attention, not dirigists who judge and pass judgments of inadequacy. Nor do we desire binaries that do not concern us, useless mental models.

The woman and man of all times only need wise support; companions on the journey who help discover the hidden, unknown, secret sides that can flourish.

Masters who let us complete, allowing the personality to marry the aspects still in shadow.

This inner alliance will be a source of fulfilment, confidence and fullness of life.

But for this we need someone to teach us how to distract the mind from the known, and thus embark on the Way of the 'further'.

Of course, a danger for those who like to interpret things with a sense of permanence: in short, no shortcut without unknowns.

It is a road that changes one's own and others' mental atmosphere; it glosses over the used, qualunquistic, epidermic way of seeing things.

Here, standing in our Calling and naturalness, we will be ourselves in the round. And we will surprise ourselves.

Here we are in the hazard of the Accepted Gift: only thus able to contact our deepest states; to know ourselves, thus realising unexpected dreams of open and complete experience.

Precisely, activating dormant energies.

Like Jesus, able to put everyone we meet into action; recovering opposite sides and eccentricities, for a humanising, total ideal.

Natural Wisdom, in the Tao Tê Ching (LXV) says:

"In ancient times those who well practised the Tao [the Way] did not make the people discerning with it, but with it they strove to make them dull".

The theme - from the biblical evangelical point of view - is precisely in the key of Exodus: the allusion to the "sea" [v.16; actually a lake] is clear.

Therefore, the forward "Conversion" that the new Rebbe proposes is not a U-shaped movement - as is often said.

"Conversion" is not about a devout return to worship and the Temple, but a change of mindset and orientation.

And "Kingdom of God" does not allude to a world "in" heaven: it does not speak of an afterlife, but of areas in which the Beatitudes are lived out.

"Conversion"? Authentic, without the chastisements of mortifying religion. Nor - as will unfortunately happen later - the subjugation of consciences.

Nor any subjection to the profit motive without sharing.

The obtuseness of the ancient, dull, provincial power - even of ecclesiastical vein - is to believe that a voice of denunciation cannot be replaced by a more incisive Herald.

But it can (vv.13-14).

In Christ we will launch radical changes, bringing out and activating in people awarenesses that are valid and enduring.

No longer that insistence on seeking fake, glossy, glamorous or papier-mâché securities, but a knowing how to transmit life, taking all the risks of love.

Faith will stand out everywhere over homologising devotion, good for all seasons. For it does not plan a further stasis, but an unending Path.

Way, country, and way of seeing the world, detached from certainties of little specific weight: finally producing situations as reassuring as they are shoddy.

Then we will be ourselves in the round in the power of the Spirit [cf. parallel passage Lk 4:14] i.e. in the unknown of unpredictable Love.

And in the risk of contamination: only thus able to fulfil others' dreams of an open and complete life, which goes beyond (Lk 4:15).

Like Jesus, and in Him, for the brothers. With his new way of activating and marching.

Not: held back, so as to "arrange" assurances and that fine-tuning according to mannerly clichés.

Forward course with no more backtracking: every trajectory is personal.

Orientation that draws us into exploration and action, towards a total ideal.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you care about assurances? What certainties do you have to leave behind?

Do you cultivate vital openings?

Do you feel closeness and life ahead in the Church? 

Or do behind-the-scenes, made judgments, categorisations, anonymity, ostentation, detachment prevail?

If you meet Jesus who walks, treads, goes further: how and according to what inclinations do you think your sterility could become fruitful?

The first appeal is for conversion, a word to be understood with its extraordinary gravity, grasping the surprising newness it releases. The appeal to conversion, in fact, lays bare and denounces the facile superficiality that all too often marks our lives. To repent [or convert] is to change direction in the journey of life: not, however, by means of a small adjustment, but with a true and proper about turn. Conversion means swimming against the tide, where the "tide" is the superficial lifestyle, inconsistent and deceptive, that often sweeps us long, overwhelms us and makes us slaves to evil or at any rate prisoners of moral mediocrity. With conversion, on the other hand, we are aiming for the high standard of Christian living, we entrust ourselves to the living and personal Gospel which is Jesus Christ. He is our final goal and the profound meaning of conversion, he is the path on which all are called to walk through life, letting themselves be illumined by his light and sustained by his power which moves our steps. In this way conversion expresses his most splendid and fascinating Face: it is not a mere moral decision that rectifies our conduct in life, but rather a choice of faith that wholly involves us in close communion with Jesus as a real and living Person. To repent and believe in the Gospel are not two different things or in some way only juxtaposed, but express the same reality. Repentance is the total "yes" of those who consign their whole life to the Gospel responding freely to Christ who first offers himself to humankind as the Way, the Truth and the Life, as the only One who sets us free and saves us. This is the precise meaning of the first words with which, according to the Evangelist Mark, Jesus begins preaching the "Gospel of God": "The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the Gospel" (Mk 1: 15).

The "Repent, and believe in the Gospel" is not only at the beginning of Christian life but accompanies it throughout, endures, is renewed and spreads, branching out into all its expressions. Every day is a favourable moment of grace because every day presses us to give ourselves to Jesus, to trust in him, to abide in him, to share his lifestyle, to learn true love from him, to follow him in the daily fulfilment of the Father's will, the one great law of life. Every day, even when it is fraught with difficulties and toil, weariness and setbacks, even when we are tempted to leave the path of the following of Christ and withdraw into ourselves, into our selfishness, without realizing our need to open ourselves to the love of God in Christ, to live the same logic of justice and love.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 17 February 2010]

1. What is most important in the old and new forms of 'consecrated life' is that in them one discerns the fundamental conformity to the will of Christ, the institutor of the evangelical counsels and, in this sense, the founder of religious life and of every similar state of consecration. As the Second Vatican Council says, the evangelical counsels are "founded on the words and examples of the Lord" (Lumen Gentium, 43).

There has been no shortage of those who have questioned this foundation by considering consecrated life as a purely human institution, born of the initiative of Christians who wished to live the Gospel ideal more deeply. Now it is true that Jesus did not directly found any of the religious communities that gradually developed in the Church, nor did He determine particular forms of consecrated life. But what He willed and instituted is the state of consecrated life, in its general value and in its essential elements. There is no historical evidence to explain this state by a later human initiative, nor is it easily conceivable that consecrated life - which has played such a great role in the development of holiness and the mission of the Church - did not proceed from a founding will of Christ. If we explore the Gospel accounts well, we discover that this will appears in a very clear way.

2. It appears from the Gospel that from the very beginning of his public life Jesus calls men to follow him. This call is not necessarily expressed in words: it can simply result from the attraction exercised by Jesus' personality on those he meets, as in the case of the first two disciples, according to the account in John's Gospel. Already disciples of John the Baptist, Andrew and his companion (who seems to be the evangelist himself) are fascinated and almost gripped by the one who is presented to them as 'the lamb of God'; and they immediately set out to follow Jesus, before he has even spoken a word to them. When Jesus asks, "What do you seek?", they respond with another question: "Master, where do you dwell?". Then they receive the invitation that will change their lives: "Come and see" (cf. Jn 1:38-39).

But generally the most characteristic expression of the call is the word: "Follow me" (Mt 8:22; 9:9; 19:21; Mk 2:14; 10:21; Lk 9:59; 18:22; Jn 1:43; 21:19). It manifests the initiative of Jesus. Before then, those who wished to embrace the teaching of a master chose the one whose discipleship they wished to become. Jesus, on the other hand, with that word: 'Follow me', shows that it is he who chooses those whom he wants to have as companions and disciples. Indeed, he will say to the Apostles: "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (Jn 15:16).

In this initiative of Jesus appears a sovereign will, but also an intense love. The account of the call addressed to the rich young man reveals this love. We read there that when the young man declares that he has kept the commandments of the law from an early age, Jesus, "gazing at him, loved him" (Mk 10:21). This penetrating gaze, filled with love, accompanies the invitation: "Go, sell what you have and give to the poor and you will have treasure in Heaven, then come and follow me" (Ibid). This divine and human love of Jesus, so ardent as to be recalled by a witness to the scene, is what is repeated in every call to total self-giving in the consecrated life. As I wrote in the Apostolic Exhortation Redemptionis donum, "in it is reflected the eternal love of the Father, who 'so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life' (Jn 3:16)" (John Paul II, Redemptionis donum, no. 3).

3. Again according to the testimony of the Gospel, the call to follow Jesus involves very wide-ranging demands: the account of the invitation to the rich young man emphasises the renunciation of material goods; in other cases the renunciation of the family is more explicitly emphasised (cf. Lk 9:59-60). Generally speaking; following Jesus means renouncing everything to join him and accompany him on the paths of his mission. And the renunciation to which the Apostles consented, as Peter declares: "Behold, we have left everything and followed you" (Mt 19, 27). Precisely in his reply to Peter Jesus indicates the renunciation of human goods as a fundamental element of his following (cf. Mt 19:29). It is clear from the Old Testament that God asked his people to follow him through the observance of the commandments, but without ever making such radical demands. Jesus manifests his divine sovereignty by demanding instead an absolute dedication to him, even to the point of total detachment from earthly goods and affections.

4. Note, however, that while formulating the new demands included in the call to follow him, Jesus presents them to the free choice of those he calls. They are not precepts, but invitations or "advice". The love with which Jesus addresses the call to him, does not deprive the rich young man of the power of free decision, as shown by his refusal to follow him because of the preference given to the goods he possesses. The evangelist Mark notes that he "went away sorrowful, for he had many possessions" (Mk 10:22). Jesus does not condemn him for this. But in his turn he observes not without a certain affliction that it is difficult for the rich to enter the kingdom of heaven, and that only God can work certain detachments, certain inner liberations, that allow one to respond to the call (cf. Mk 10:23-27).

5. On the other hand, Jesus assures that the renunciations required by the call to follow him obtain their reward, a "heavenly treasure", that is, an abundance of spiritual goods. He even promises eternal life in the century to come, and a hundredfold in this century (cf. Matthew 19:29). This hundredfold refers to a higher quality of life, to a higher happiness.

Experience teaches that the consecrated life, according to Jesus' design, is a profoundly happy life. This happiness is commensurate with fidelity to Jesus' plan. It does not preclude the fact that, again according to Mark's mention of persecution in the same episode (Mk 10:30), the "hundredfold" does not dispense from association with the cross of Christ.

6. Jesus also called women to follow him. An account in the Gospels says that a group of women accompanied Jesus, and that these women were numerous (cf. Lk 8:1-3; Mt 27:55; Mk 15:40-41). This was a great novelty in relation to Judaic customs: only the innovative will of Jesus, which included the promotion and to some extent the liberation of women, can explain the fact. No account of any woman's vocation has reached us from the Gospels; but the presence of numerous women with the Twelve with Jesus presupposes his call, his choice, whether silent or expressed.

In fact, Jesus shows that the state of consecrated life, consisting in following him, is not necessarily linked to a destination to the priestly ministry, and that this state concerns both women and men, each in his own field and with the function assigned by the divine call. In the group of women who followed Jesus, one can discern the announcement and indeed the initial nucleus of the immense number of women who will commit themselves to religious life or other forms of consecrated life, throughout the centuries of the Church, up to the present day. This applies to the "consecrated women", but also to so many of our sisters who follow in new forms the authentic example of the co-workers of Jesus: e.g. as lay "volunteers" in so many works of the apostolate, in so many ministries and offices of the Church.

7. Let us conclude this catechesis by recognising that Jesus, in calling men and women to abandon everything to follow him, inaugurated a state of life that would gradually develop in his Church, in the various forms of consecrated life, concretised in religious life, or even - for those chosen by God - in the priesthood. From Gospel times to the present day, the founding will of Christ has continued to operate, expressed in that beautiful and most holy invitation addressed to so many souls: "Follow me!"

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 12 October 1994]

The Gospel today presents to us the beginning of Jesus’ preaching ministry in Galilee. St Mark stresses that Jesus began to preach “after John [the Baptist] was arrested” (1:14). Precisely at the moment in which the prophetic voice of the Baptist, who proclaimed the coming of the Kingdom of God, was silenced by Herod, Jesus begins to travel the roads of his land to bring to all, especially the poor, “the gospel of God” (cf. ibid.). The proclamation of Jesus is like that of John, with the essential difference that Jesus no longer points to another who must come: Jesus is Himself the fulfilment of those promises; He Himself is the “good news” to believe in, to receive and to communicate to all men and women of every time that they too may entrust their life to Him. Jesus Christ in his person is the Word living and working in history: whoever hears and follows Him may enter the Kingdom of God.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 25 January 2015].

The Gospel passage [...] (cf. Mk 1:14-20) shows us, so to speak, the “passing of the baton” from John the Baptist to Jesus. John was His precursor; he prepared the terrain for Him and he prepared the way for Him: Jesus can now begin his mission and announce the salvation by now present; He was the salvation. His preaching is summarized in these words: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel” (v. 15). Simply. Jesus did not mince words. It is a message that invites us to reflect on two essential themes: time and conversion.

In this text of Mark the Evangelist, time is to be understood as the duration of the history of salvation worked by God; therefore, the time “fulfilled” is that in which this salvific action reaches its pinnacle, full realization: it is the historical moment in which God sent his Son into the world and his Kingdom was rendered more “close” than ever. The time of salvation was fulfilled because Jesus arrived. However, salvation is not automatic; salvation is a gift of love and as such, it is offered to human freedom. Always, when we speak of love, we speak of freedom: love without freedom is not love; it may be interest, it may be fear, many things, but love is always free, and being free it calls for a freely given response: it calls for our conversion. Thus, it means changing mentality — this is conversion, changing mentality — and changing life: no longer following the examples of the world but those of God, who is Jesus; following Jesus; “doing” as Jesus had done, and as Jesus taught us. It is a decisive change of view and attitude. In fact, sin — above all the sin of worldliness which is like air, it permeates everything — brought about a mentality that tends toward the affirmation of oneself against others and against God. This is curious... What is your identity? And so often we hear that one’s identity is expressed in terms of “opposition”. It is difficult to express one’s identity in the worldly spirit, in positive terms and in those of salvation: it is against oneself, against others and against God. And for this purpose it does not hesitate — the mentality of sin, the worldly mentality — to use deceit and violence. Deceit and violence. We see what happens with deceit and violence: greed, desire for power and not service, war, exploitation of people... This is the mentality of deceit that definitely has its origins in the father of deceit, the great pretender, the devil. He is the father of lies, as Jesus defines him.

All this is opposed by the message of Jesus, who invites us to recognize ourselves as in need of God and his grace; to have a balanced attitude with regard to earthly goods; to be welcoming and humble toward everyone; to know and fulfil ourselves in the encounter with and service of others. For each one of us the time in which we are able to receive redemption is brief: it is the duration of our life in this world. It is brief. Perhaps it seems long... I remember that I went to administer the Sacraments, the Anointing of the Sick, to a very good elderly man, very good, and in that moment, before receiving the Eucharist and the Anointing of the Sick, he said this phrase to me: “My life flew by”. This is how we, the elderly, feel, that life has passed away. It passes away. And life is a gift of God’s infinite love, but it is also the time to prove our love for him. For this reason every moment, every instant of our existence is precious time to love God and to love our neighbour, and thereby enter into eternal life.

The history of our life has two rhythms: one, measurable, made of hours, days, years; the other, composed of the seasons of our development: birth, childhood, adolescence, maturity, old age, death. Every period, every phase has its own value, and can be a privileged moment of encounter with the Lord. Faith helps us to discover the spiritual significance of these periods: each one of them contains a particular call of the Lord, to which we can give a positive or negative response. In the Gospel we see how Simon, Andrew, James and John responded: they were mature men; they had their work as fishermen, they had their family life... Yet, when Jesus passed and called to them, “immediately they left their nets and followed him” (Mk 1:18).

Dear brothers and sisters, let us be attentive and not let Jesus pass by without welcoming him. Saint Augustine said “I am afraid of God when he passes by”. Afraid of what? Of not recognizing him, of not seeing him, not welcoming him.

May the Virgin Mary help us live each day, each moment as the time of salvation, when the Lord passes and calls us to follow him, each according to his or her life. And may she help us to convert from the mentality of the world, that of worldly reveries that are fireworks, to that of love and service.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 24 January 2021]

The muddy condition of the Jordan and the human dimension of Jesus

(Mt 3:13-17; Mk 1:7-11; Lk 3:21-22; Jn 1:30-34)

The Jordan River was never navigable; it simply marked a border. In the mentality of time, between the land of others and the sacred realm of freedom; and here is the concrete distinction of the Incarnation.

Let us outline some considerations that recover the meaning of this historical fact - which for us can be like a ‘sun’ inside - with which the liturgy completes the path of Christmas time.

Jesus was in search, eager to sift, to learn.

It may seem incredible to us, but he recognized himself ignorant, in need of evolving - not of becoming “better” and stronger, but of ‘looking inside’ things - and move the gaze elsewhere.

In that strongly engaged but overly serious environment he understood definitively who the Subject of the spiritual journey is: the divine Life, which draws us into the experience of happiness, of authentic and solid love.

The Kingdom cannot be prepared and even set up [it would become a projection, a conditioned reflection, an outer tower, like Babel] - rather, it must be Welcomed. Because it Comes.

The results that appeal to our genius and muscles, at first they are unnerving, then they become frustrating; lastly they block the growth of the innate universe, because they turn off the novelties, obfuscate the Source of being and enthusiasm.

The religious man who does not make the leap of the Faith, stagnates in the depressing finding of the difference between expected results and concrete facts.

Paradoxically, he focuses the streets on himself, but doesn’t lays his eye ‘on’ his essence. He obeys - perhaps - but doesn’t listen.

Having lost the even relational sense of his unrepeatable Unicum - he measures all his inability to perceive, elaborate, realize, those designs that guide his dreams and resources to fullness.

He loses all his energy by making induced, contrived, off-scale resolutions, wich make him supposing and acidic - simply because those artifact targets dry him down: they do not concern him.

Meanwhile, the "perfect" and stressful discipline that imposes to himself, as if he were the Protagonist, takes away from him the joy of meeting his superior talents and fully experiencing what reality provides.

Perhaps he does not extract from his own ‘mine’ (entirely at hand) those abilities that realize the personal Mission.

He does not even notice it - all caught by absolutely derived or conforming ideas and disciplines, able only to dismantle his peaks and rarity.

Always with a look on the past, or on the common [even glamorous] thinking of the authorities, of others, of the surrounding environment - and what is believed "should be", according to established and damping ethicalisms.

Finally, the discrepancy between what to wich one has given so much [without perhaps ever understanding what God is really calling to] and what has been achieved, destroys the exceptionality.

It weakens Hope itself, triggering an inexorable sadness, or the useless individual and ecclesial routine.

Adult Jesus who lets himself be immersed in the waters of the Jordan is icon of a proposal that sublimates the conspicuously murky swamps of our condition.

Not only by seeing the possibilities, but even making them ‘cheerful’: so in all the oriental icons, which accentuate their elegant volutes.

How can our Lord stand beside an indistinct crowd of sinners and skids, seeking redemption?

Jesus noticed: in each one of them surfaced a talent. And we are at the lowest point on earth - 400 meters below sea level.

This is precisely the leap in quality that discriminates against a simple-minded religiosity [even cloaked in great things] and the growth of Faith.

The Son reveals divine life, which is manifested ceaselessly ‘friend’. Face of God that does not destroy but approaches, to bring out the stifled possibilities.

He doesn’t crush, humiliating our inclinations, and adding unbearable burdens. He’s not the King of submissive and fatigued persons.

He enters a reality also made of mud, but that prepares our developments, and desires to grow - producing paths often interrupted, but finally the unexpected Flower.

In this way we learn to love our limits and the many slimy conditions: they remind us of the Jordan.

Earth needs Light, but Light needs ‘earth’. They are expression of the New Covenant.

[Baptism of the Lord; homily. For a perhaps more fussy and characteristic biblical relief, cf. the extended comment, at the bottom of the site: www.duevie.art]

The muddy condition of the Jordan and the human dimension of Jesus

(Mt 3:13-17; Mk 1:7-11; Lk 3:21-22; Jn 1:30-34)

The river Jordan was never navigable; it simply marked a border.

In the mentality of the time, between other people's land and the sacred sphere of freedom: here a concrete boundary of the "Incarnation".

Let us try to explore this in more detail.

Popular preaching on the subject of the Baptism of the Lord was burdened with a bark of clichés [here and there perhaps insuperable] that prevented any maturation of widespread beliefs, which were still stagnant.

In this way, Jesus has hastily found himself placed behind the clouds, and today it is difficult to explain what he has in common with our life, which is often raw, conditioned by fatigue, trial and error, and research.

Although fundamental for the fruitful interiorization of a journey that moves away from generically (sometimes authentically) devotional banalities, from the ambo and in catechesis we are still forced to dribble the true meaning of the event.

Indeed, the Baptism of the Lord has created embarrassment and interpretative confusion since the first generations of believers.

Let us deal with a few considerations that recover the meaning of this historical fact - for us, it could be like a sunshine inside - with which the liturgy completes the journey of the Christmas season.

Jesus, in search of and eager to sift through the best teaching of his time, enters the school of the Baptist as a pupil.

For this reason he is baptised by John - and through this rite of entry, joined with other ordinary followers.

It may seem incredible, but the Master and Lord recognised himself as curious, imperfect, ignorant, incomplete; in need of evolution. Not to become 'better' and stronger, but to learn to look otherwise.

In that highly committed but serious, edgy, often one-sided environment, He understood the true greatness of Revelation.

In short, the Subject of the spiritual journey is divine Life, with all its bearing, which providentially pours forth and moves varied situations.

It comes to broaden horizons; not to bind us to particular ways of understanding and wanting.

We already know: it is not the ego that thinks and plans that can draw us into the experience of integral, all-embracing Happiness; of authentic, solid love.

The Kingdom is anything but: Complete. It is inclusive of what the sterilised, or fashionable, and common opinion does not 'like'.

It offers an earthly energy that is as valuable as the ideal, heavenly one.

Heaven cannot be prepared or even set up: it would become a projection, a conditioned reflex, an external tower like Babel.

Rather, one must welcome it, host it within oneself.

Then another kind of asceticism opens up, with fewer expectations of "perfection". A path that disconcerts, and that the divine impulse within us - concrete - demands of us.

We will know the Joy of Living, we will feel it flowing within; only then will we be fulfilled.

Marrying the shadow side, which will become our Perfume.

Achievements that rely on genius and muscle, first unnerving, then frustrating; then blocking the growth of the innate universe.

Artifices external to the soul extinguish personally inspired novelty, the very Source of being and enthusiasm.

Indeed, the one-sided religious man remains in malaise; he withers, because he does not take the spousal, creative leap of the adventure of Faith.

He becomes a photograph or a photocopy.

Then it stagnates in the depressing realisation of the difference between expected results and concrete facts.

Paradoxically, it centres the ways on itself - but does not rest its gaze 'in' its essence.

It obeys perhaps, but does not listen. Thus it allows itself to be vampirised by mannerisms and epidermal stylistic features.

Having lost the sense, also relational, of its unrepeatable Unicum - it measures all its inability to perceive, elaborate, realise mysterious designs that guide dreams and resources to fullness.

He loses all energy by making induced resolutions, full of artifice; out of scale.

He gives himself goals that make him opinionated, sour, formal, external - simply because those overarching goals do not concern him.

Meanwhile, the perfect, stressful discipline he imposes on himself, as if he were the Protagonist, takes away the joy of encountering superior talents.

He will always miss the thrill of living intensely what (fuller) reality offers.

Thus he does not extract from his own Mine all at hand those abilities that realise the personal Mission.

He does not even realise it - caught up in hyperbolic ideas and great disciplines that are absolutely derivative, paradoxically trivial [which can finally only dismantle its peaks and rarity]. 

He always has his eye on the past or on fashions; on the common thought, that of the situation, of the authorities, of others, of the environment he frequents, of the surroundings - which he tarnishes, or deviates.

And it places the focus only on what is normally considered 'should be' - according to established, dampening ethics, or utopias à la page, disembodied.

Inside the vortex of insuperable models, he never understands what God is really calling him to, even in disturbances.

Finally, every discrepancy between what is given and what is obtained destroys the atypicality of Hope itself, triggering an inexorable sadness, or the useless individual and ecclesial trance.

The adult Jesus who allows himself to be immersed in the waters of the Jordan is an icon of a proposal that enhances the conspicuously murky swamps of our condition.

The Lord not only grasps the possibilities, but even makes the waters cheerful [so in all oriental icons, which accentuate elegant volutes].

But the question remains. How can our Lord come alongside an indistinct crowd of sinners and stragglers seeking redemption?

In each of them Jesus saw a talent emerge.

And we are at the lowest point on earth - 400 metres below sea level.

It is precisely this leap of quality that distinguishes sophisticated idealism or simplistic religiosity - even cloaked in great things - from any quest for Faith.

The Son reveals divine Life, which bursts forth shattering expectations.

It unceasingly manifests itself as a friend. Unconscious face that does not destroy but draws near, to bring out the stifled possibilities.

Because God does not crush, he does not humiliate our hidden inclinations and resources, nor does he add unbearable burdens.

He is not a King of the submissive and weary.

He enters into a muddy reality, for it is filled with points of tension.

Thus he prepares our developments, and desires to grow - producing paths though interrupted, but finally the unexpected flower.

Now, at last, it is possible for each one to respond in a simple way to the spousal invitation: 'Do you want to unite your life to Mine?

Only that which is dehumanising does not concern our eternal side.

Any divine Gift passes through the 'flesh': the condition of the person as he is, even in the concreteness of his minimal or insecure actions.

The genuine rawness of our investigation of the true, the good and the beautiful passes - as in Jesus - through paths to be corrected over time, trial and error.

There is nothing wrong with that: only diamonds do not sprout.

Even Leonardo Da Vinci wrote that 'all our convictions begin with feelings. Not from crystalline, self-contained thoughts, but from a weaker language.

We are then introduced to a constant Exodus spirituality, which, however, is oriented towards the freedom of the Promised Land, the Home that is truly ours.

It is here - we perceive within - the outpouring of the intrinsic Centre, the personal Core, the founding Eros that calls.

Presence that detests the cage of patterns, approaching the rare, unusual (nothing grandiose) Irrepeatability that we are.

In all of this, awakening interest, and real, passionate life, which is not 'immune', nor definitive.

I mean, it happens even with God, to make a mistake.

We get back up, because that humus nourishes - and in the varied experience lurks - an opportunity, a knowledge, a skill, a greater authenticity: an added value.

The Father's call remains foreign both to the usual ideas of the verticism of objectives, and to adult mechanisms of purification - not aimed at ordinary existence (typical of philosophical or moralistic asceticism).

So the Baptism in Spirit is a Light - for us an inner increase, a sublimation of self-awareness and one's goal.

No longer a pale goal, only adjusted to roles, procedures, positions that the person does not feel are their own.

The very "rending of the heavens" no longer sealed by a (severe) distance or cultural paradigm, speaks of a now uninterrupted and growing Communication of the divine with human nature.

Exploring we can err, in both senses.

But far worse is to feel dull and unmotivated, and to act according to fixed nomenclatures and concatenations, i.e. by calculation.

In fact, in ancient religious culture, perfection and unworthiness are incomprehensible.

Conversely, in Christ we return to the moment of Creation, where "the olive tree" tells of a harmony rebuilt precisely on the limits of sin.

Gen 8:21: "I will curse no more, for the instinct of the human heart is inclined to evil from adolescence".

Here is the Dove, the new symbol of the Spirit.

A clear figure and virtue of concert, of recovery, which animates the believer - who is no longer called to titanic efforts, nor obliged to reproduce futile clamour that he does not want and does not belong to him.

Ancient kingdoms expressed and aroused the aggressive energy of beasts. 

The authentic woman and man, on the other hand, are the revolutionaries of caress, of kindness granted even to their own and others' limits.

Faithful, not of the sphere but of the polyhedron: no longer the hard and safe ones, planted on trivial self-celebratory euphorias.

In the school of the great Precursor, Jesus had noticed the proliferation of coruscating and 'spiritual' frictions that arose between (the Baptist's) pupils - who competed to set up the Kingdom.

Having assessed the vacuous coldness and the danger of homologation - the new Rabbi definitely understands that the worst disease of people is not having humanising impulses.

Impulses that are perhaps ill-tempered, certainly, but that predispose not to Exodus, but to a sort of climb in predictable stages, with perpetual pause; at room-temperature.

Here, no shady side becomes new wealth for all.

For this reason, on "the Mount" we proclaim no commanded "No" that denies our ardours - but rather, Beatitudes.

They open breath and all existence. Even of the uncertain.

In short, not yet knowing who we are and where we are going means the possibility of reinventing ourselves.

Thus we learn to love our limitations and the many limiting conditions: they remind us of the Jordan.

The earth needs Light, but the Light needs the earth. They are an expression of the New Covenant.

To internalise and live the message:

Have you ever met a wise spiritual companion who, instead of rushing you into his or her solution, teaches you to love your limits, knowing that sooner or later they will surprise and astound both you and him or her?

According to the account of the Evangelist Matthew (3:13-17), Jesus came from Galilee to the River Jordan to be baptized by John; indeed people were flocking from all over Palestine to hear the preaching of this great Prophet and the proclamation of the coming of the Kingdom of God and to receive Baptism, that is, to submit to that sign of penance which calls for conversion from sin. 

Although it was called “Baptism” it did not have the sacramental value of the rite we are celebrating today; as you well know, it was actually with his death and Resurrection that Jesus instituted the sacraments and caused the Church to be born. What John administered was a penitential act, a gesture of humility to God that invited a new beginning: by immersing themselves in the water, penitents recognized that they had sinned, begged God for purification from their sins and were asked to change wrong behaviour, dying in the water, as it were, and rising from it to new life.

For this reason, when John the Baptist saw Jesus who had come to be baptized queuing with sinners he was amazed; recognizing him as the Messiah, the Holy One of God, the One who is without sin, John expressed his consternation: he, the Baptist, would himself have liked to be baptized by Jesus. But Jesus urged him not to put up any resistance, to agree to do this act, to do what is fitting “to fulfil all righteousness”. 

With these words Jesus showed that he had come into the world to do the will of the One who had sent him, to carry out all that the Father would ask of him. It was in order to obey the Father that he accepted to be made man. This act reveals, first of all, who Jesus is: he is the Son of God, true God as the Father; he is the One who “humbled himself” to make himself one of us, the One who was made man and who accepted to humble himself unto death on a cross (cf. Phil 2:7). 

The Baptism of Jesus, which we are commemorating today, fits into this logic of humility and solidarity: it is the action of the One who wanted to make himself one of us in everything and who truly joined the line of sinners; he, who knew no sin, let himself be treated as a sinner (cf. 2 Cor 5:21), to take upon his shoulders the burden of the sin of all humanity, including our own sin. He is the “servant” of Yahweh of whom the Prophet Isaiah spoke in the First Reading (cf. 42:1). His humility is dictated by the desire to establish full communion with humanity, by the desire to bring about true solidarity with man and with his human condition. 

Jesus’ action anticipates the Cross, his acceptance of death for man’s sins. This act of abasement, by which Jesus wanted to comply totally with the loving plan of the Father and to conform himself with us, expresses the full harmony of will and intentions that exists between the Persons of the Most Holy Trinity. For this act of love, the Spirit of God revealed himself and descended to alight upon Jesus as a dove, and at that moment the love which unites Jesus to the Father was witnessed to all who were present at the Baptism by a voice from Heaven that everyone heard.

The Father reveals openly to human beings, to us, the profound communion that binds him to the Son: the voice that resounds from on high testifies that Jesus is obedient to the Father in all things and that this obedience is an expression of the love that unites them to each other. 

Therefore the Father delights in Jesus, for he recognizes in the Son’s behaviour the wish to obey his will in all things: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Mt 3:17). And these words of the Father also allude, in advance, to the victory of the Resurrection and tell us how we must live in order to please the Father, by behaving like Jesus.

[Pope Benedict, homily in the Sistine Chapel, 9 January 2011]

"You are my beloved Son; in You I am well pleased".

2. The ceremony, which on this typical Sunday of the liturgical cycle we are about to perform, calls to our mind certain truths of essential importance in Christian doctrine.

First of all, it recalls the episode - read in today's Gospel - of the Baptism of Jesus, who wished to include himself, as a penitent, among the followers of John the Baptist in order to receive water baptism from him. Such a rite was a sign of penitence; but Jesus wanted to subject himself to it, to show openly that he accepted the religious message of the people of Israel, expressed in a conclusive way by the last of the Prophets. From Abraham to Moses, to Elijah, to Isaiah, through all the Prophets, up to John the Baptist, along the mysterious and dramatic "history of salvation" the "word of God" had walked with the Jewish people, until it led to the arcane voice from heaven that on Jesus, baptised by John, said: "You are my beloved Son; in you I am well pleased" (Lk 3:22). In Jesus, the Messiah awaited by the chosen people, the definitive transition from the Old to the New Testament took place, and John the Baptist was its austere and enlightened witness.

But today's Liturgy also and above all emphasises the value of the new Baptism, instituted by Jesus. John the Baptist, announcing the coming of the Messiah, said: 'One is coming who will baptise you in the Holy Spirit and fire'. Jesus, initiating the new 'economy' of salvation, tells the Apostles: 'All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" (Mt 28:18-19). This is the new and definitive Baptism, which eliminates from the soul the "original sin", inherent in human nature fallen through the rejection of love by the first two rational creatures, and restores to the soul the "sanctifying grace", that is, participation in the very life of the Holy Trinity. Every time Baptism is conferred, an amazing and marvellous event takes place; the rite is simple, but the meaning is sublime! The fire of God's creative and redeeming love burns and destroys sin and takes possession of the soul, which becomes the dwelling place of the Most High! The Evangelist St John affirms that Jesus has given us the power to become children of God, because from God we have been begotten (cf. Jn 1:12-13); and St Paul speaks repeatedly of our greatness and dignity as members of the Body of Christ (Col 2:19; Eph 3:11. 17. 19-22; 4:12).

3. Baptism is a supernatural gift, a radical transformation of human nature, the insertion of the soul into the very life of God, the concrete and personal realisation of the Redemption, and therefore consequently commits the baptised person to live in a new way, namely following Christ. It has never been easy to live as a Christian and even less so in modern society. The Church is happy to welcome these newly-baptised children; but she wants the parents, godparents and godmothers, and also the entire community, to take on the serious duties of good example, correct teaching and authentic Christian formation, so that the child in the gradual development of his or her existence may be faithful to his or her baptismal commitments.

4. St Augustine, recalling in the Confessions the episode of his Baptism, writes: 'In those days, all filled with extraordinary sweetness, I was not satisfied with considering the depth of your counsel for the salvation of the human race' (St Augustine, Confessiones, IX, ch. VI). This immense interior joy I also heartily wish for you and for your children, now and for ever, while I invoke the propitiatory intercession of Most Holy Mary, so that by her help the light and candour of Baptism, which these little ones now receive, may shine in them throughout their lives.

[Pope John Paul II, homily January 1983]

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

1. Today's liturgical feast of the Baptism of the Lord closes the Christmas season, which we observed this year with exceptional fervour and participation. Indeed, the Great Jubilee began on the Holy Night with the opening of the Holy Door in St Peter's.

This Christmas season has offered us a new occasion to recall the "fact" that occurred 20 centuries ago and definitively changed the course of history: Jesus' birth in Bethlehem.

In recalling Jesus' birth, we celebrated the great mystery of Redemption, to which we pay particular attention throughout the course of the Jubilee. The Son of God became man so that man could be raised to the dignity of God's adoptive son.

2. Today's feast of the Baptism of the Lord reminds us of this intimate union with the divine life.

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus 9 January 2000]

This year’s liturgy offers us the event of the Baptism of Jesus according to the Gospel of Matthew (cf. 3:13-17). The Evangelist describes the dialogue between Jesus who asks to be baptized and John the Baptist who wants to prevent him and observes: “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” (v. 14). This decision by Jesus surprises the Baptist: in fact the Messiah does not need to be purified; indeed he is the one who purifies. But God is Holy. His ways are not ours and Jesus is God’s path, an unpredictable path. Let us remember that God is the God of surprises.

John had stated that there was an abyssal, unbridgeable difference between him and Jesus. I am not worthy to carry his sandals (cf. Mt 3:11), he had said. But the Son of God came precisely to fill this gap between man and God. If Jesus is completely on God’s side, he is also completely on the side of mankind and he reunites what was divided. This is why he answers John: “Let it be so now; for thus it is fitting for us to fulfil all righteousness” (v. 15). The Messiah asks to be baptized so that all righteousness be fulfilled, that God’s design which passes through filial obedience and solidarity with fragile and sinful mankind, be fulfilled. It is the path of humility and of God’s complete closeness to his children.

The prophet Isaiah also announces the righteousness of the Servant of God who fulfills his mission in the world with a style that is opposed to the worldly spirit. “He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard on the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench” (42:2-3). It is the attitude of meekness — the attitude of simplicity, of respect, of moderation and of hiddeness that is still asked today of the Lord’s disciples. How many — it is sad to say — how many of the Lord’s disciples boast that they are disciples of the Lord. Those who boast are not good disciples of the Lord. The good disciple is humble, meek, one who does good unobtrusively. In missionary work, the Christian community is called to approach others always offering and not imposing, bearing witness, sharing the concrete life of the people.

As soon as Jesus was baptized in the River Jordan, the heavens were opened and the Holy Spirit alighted on him like a dove, as a voice from heaven said: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Mt 3:17). We rediscover our own Baptism in the Feast of the Baptism. Just as Jesus is the Beloved Son of the Father, we too, reborn by water and the Holy Spirit, know we are loved children — the Father loves us all! —, the object of God’s satisfaction, brothers and sisters of many brothers and sisters, assigned with a great mission to bear witness and proclaim the Father’s boundless love to all mankind.

This Feast of the Baptism of Jesus reminds us of our own Baptism. We too were reborn in Baptism. In Baptism the Holy Spirit came down to remain within us. This is why it is important to know the date of our Baptism. We know our date of birth, but we do not always know the date of our Baptism. Certainly some of you do not know it.... Homework to do: when you return [home] ask: when was I baptized? When was I baptized? And celebrate the date of your Baptism in your heart, every year. Do it. This also does justice to the Lord who was so kind to us.

May Mary Most Holy help us to increasingly understand the gift of Baptism and to live it consistently in everyday situations.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 12 January 2020]