The Baptism of Our Lord
Date: Monday, January 8, 2024 | Christmas
Roman Missal | Year B
First Reading: Isaiah 55:1-11
Responsorial Psalm: Isaiah 12 | Response: Isaiah 12
Second Reading: Titus 2: 11-14, 3:4-7
Gospel Acclamation: Luke 3:16
Gospel: Mark 1:7-11
Preached at: St. Ignatius Parish in Rhodes Park in the Archdiocese of Lusaka.
The film, The Dark Knight, released in 2008 as part of the Batman franchise, has striking parallels with the story of our salvation in Jesus Christ. Harvey Dent, the new police commissioner has won over the hearts of the whole of Gotham and become for everyone the model of goodness and justice by ridding the streets of Gotham of its corruption and crime. However, at the very end of the film, Harvey Dent is disfigured by the Joker and in his bitterness and desire to get even with the universe, he goes on a killing spree that undermines all the good he did before. In the final act of the film, Harvey Dent falls to his death in a struggle with Batman. Before Batman can walk off into the darkness, he turns to his old friend, Gordon, and tells him to let Batman take the fall for the misdeeds of Harvey Dent. In this way, Batman figures that the people of Gotham will get to keep their faith in their hero Harvey Dent whose example gave them so much hope. Gordon accordingly spreads the word that Batman was responsible for the crimes that were actually committed by Harvey Dent. It is in this sense that many have pointed to Batman, The Dark Knight as something of a Christic figure.
It is often in this way that we explain what is going on in the baptism of Jesus. Jesus’ baptism is we are told was a prefiguring of the way in which Jesus was to take on his own shoulders the weight and the blame of the sins of the world and pay the price that we should have paid and thus redeem us. But today I would like to suggest to you that this is not actually an appropriate way of thinking about salvation and definitely not what is going on at Jesus’ baptism. We must not imagine this scene as it is often portrayed in the films – with all the crowds gasping and gaping as the Holy Spirit descends on Jesus in plain view and a thundering voice form heaven is heard “this is my Son, the beloved.” Apart from John and perhaps one or two of his disciples, no-one else realized the significance of what was going on in this scene. For all intents and purposes to the outside observer – this was just another day in the office, another day in the desert. Jesus was just another repentant Galilean who had come like all the rest of them to hear John and to wait for the coming of the Kingdom. Jesus blends into the crowd, he becomes one of the sinful mass of humanity. It is crucial to note that it is at the very moment that Jesus identifies with the sinful mass of humanity, that he receives from his Father the words that found his and our identity – “this is my beloved son, listen to him.” He does not hear these words when he is working one of his numerous miracles, when he is walking on water, or feeding the 5000. This is when we might expect the Father to be most pleased with his Son - preaching to people and healing the sick. No. It is when Jesus is not doing anything that marks him out as extra-ordinary, nothing that marks him out as the Messiah. It is when Jesus chooses to be in humble solidarity with us as sinful humans that his identity as the Beloved Son of the Father is confirmed for him.
What Jesus is doing at his baptism is identifying with us as sinful human beings and what he is effectively saying to us is that your problems are my problems. He is saying to us – I know that you have screwed things up, and I am prepared to take responsibility together with you for your screw up and work with you for a better world. At his baptism, Jesus is not taking the place of all these people who have come to John seeking remission of their sins and repentance. Jesus does not seek to take their place, instead, he seeks to become one with them. He blends in anonymously with everyone else and comes wishing simply to be in solidarity with all these people who have come searching for a way back to God.
What Jesus is doing here is perhaps exemplified best by the example of a lone Catholic priest during the Rwandan genocide, portrayed in the film Shooting Dogs or Beyond the Gates that came out in 2005. The film is loosely based on the real life story of a Fransican priest from Bosnia, Fr. Vjekoslav Curic. The story is set at the Ecole Technique Officiel – a technical vocational college run by the Catholic Church. The priest who runs it, Fr. Christopher, has lived in Rwanda for over 20 years working as a missionary, serving the people. When the genocide begins, hundreds of Tutsis flock to the mission school where Fr. Christopher offers them sanctuary. For a while the security of the sanctuary is protected by the presence of UN peace-keeping forces. But after a few weeks the UN communicate to Fr. Christopher their intention to pull out of the country and advise him along with all the other expatriates to leave the country for their own safety. Most expatriates heed the warnings of the UN and are evacuated. However Fr. Christopher is adamant that he will not abandon the people he has dedicated most of his life to serving. One could easily argue that being a foreigner, Fr. Christopher could have washed his hands of the mess that he found himself in. He had no personal responsibility for the ethnic rivalries and hatred that led to the Rwandan genocide. Indeed this is probably how the UN justified their pulling out of the country. Instead, like Christ, Fr. Christopher decided to make his own the problems and sins of others, and in solidarity with them try to find a solution. After the genocide, Fr. Christopher stayed on in the country and was a fierce advocate for reconciliation as he helped the people he served to put their lives back together and try to find the light of the resurrection after the darkness that had enveloped their community. Eventually, Fr. Christopher was to pay with his life for his efforts in trying to bring about reconciliation. Fr. Christopher was not a Dark Knight, taking the fall for the sins of others, his death was not a death in place of others any more than Christ’s death was a death in place of others. But we have not the time to go into this here, and so like many good films, this homily is going to have to have a sequel, which as it turns out will come out as early as next week, when the gospel of next Sunday has John the Baptist point to Jesus as the “Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” It is here that we will have occasion to reflect on the saving power of Jesus’ death on the cross.
The point that I want to drive home today is that what Jesus has done, we are called to do too. To take responsibility for each other, especially for our mistakes and for the sinfulness of the world. For those of us who are cradle Catholics, we have been taught over the years to regard sin as an individual affair. I am to repent of my own sin, examine my own conscience and go to confession to be cleansed and try to live with a pure heart and avoid sin in the future. This is presented to us as the path to holiness, the path to heaven. Don’t get me wrong, I think that this is a crucial part of the spiritual life, but we cannot stop there. Once we have been forgiven and liberated by Christ, we need to take the next step. What I think that Jesus’ baptism and indeed his whole life challenge us to do, if we are to be his followers is to begin to think about sin in its more social dimensions. We are invited to see the scourge of sin as something that does not just afflict individuals, but weighs down whole societies, as it did in Rwanda in those fateful months of 1994. The more we realize this and act accordingly, the more we become the beloved sons and daughters of our Father in heaven.