Homily for Feast of the Baptism of the Lord 2010

Did you hear the story of George and Mildred? They were both getting on in years and becoming forgetful. (Like some of us here!) As they are watching TV one night Mildred asks George to go to the kitchen and make some tea and scones for supper. And, she says, you had better write it down, because you know how often you forget what you are supposed to be doing. Yes, yes! He says. But under his breath he mutters that he is not that senile just yet. About a half an hour later he arrives back in the room with a plate of bacon and eggs. He gives it to Mildred with a smile. She looks up exasperated and says, George what is this? Where is the toast I asked for to go with it?

Our memory is terribly important. If we lose our memory we lose something of who we are. We lose connections with our past as well as people we knew. All the experiences that have shaped our lives may disappear from consciousness as if they never happened. When we don't remember where we came from, or what our life has been like over many years, then who are we? When we don't recognise people that we love we are very alone. We cannot even imagine a future, so it is said, with such a condition. That can all be very disturbing for someone suffering severe memory loss.

Our lives are short enough anyway. Just recently astronomers revealed that with the Hubble telescope they were able to observe the most distant galaxies found so far. And being so distant they are the most old. It is thought the stars there are about 19 billion years old. In fact, very close to the "Big Bang". Now we cannot comprehend such numbers of years. In comparison, our lifetime, and even the life time of the earth, is but a drop in the ocean. Some people have decided that in the face of such information about a universe of such magnitude there could be no point to our small efforts. Who are we to think what we do matters at all? We might as well live for ourselves for the moment. There is a fatalism abroad. We, however, find our present and our future by turning to Christ. With faith we look to the sky with wonder and awe and give praise to God.

St Luke gives us a very visual description of the events surrounding Jesus baptism by John the Baptist. He does not describe the actual baptism. He refers to it almost only in passing. His interest is in what followed. Jesus was at prayer after he came up out of the Jordan river. The heaven opened, he says. Somehow, he suggests, using the cosmology of his time, God breaks open the fabric of the visible universe. Through this break the Holy Spirit descends in bodily form like a dove, like a bird flying down and landing on Jesus. The the proverbial voice from above, beloved of the Simpson's cartoons, says "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." Luke does not tell us whether anyone else experienced this event. It seems a personal one for Jesus. The Spirit confirms Jesus for his mission and reveals the intimate relationship he has with the Father through that Holy Spirit.

Jesus would never forget who he is, where he has come from, and what his mission is. He has heard, and lives every day, those words of the Father, "you are my Son, the Beloved". Jesus is baptised along with all the other disciples of John the Baptist. He does not need a baptism of repentance for he is without sin. Yet, Jesus submits to John's baptism. Jesus identifies himself totally with us in doing so. He particularly identifies himself with the ordinary battlers the poor and lowly. He does not identify himself with those in the centre of power in Jerusalem. His action is a word speaking to the heart of Jerusalem as Isaiah says, announcing a new beginning. It is God comforting his people.

Jesus is fully human and fully divine. And He is truly human precisely because he is without sin. It is sin which makes us less than human. We do excuse ourselves sometimes by claiming we are just human and make mistakes. That is true enough. But the evil of real sin diminishes our humanity. We are the ones who forget who we are and for whom we were created. We forget our humanity created in the image and likeness of God. Our memory of who we are as children of God, celebrated in baptism, is easily forgotten. When this happens we can end up treating each other with contempt. This Eucharist, this anamnesis (Greek for "memorial" is a technical term for the Eucharist), this memorial of the death and resurrection of Christ is the antidote to the amnesia, this forgetfulness which easily besets us.

A reminder of that is to hear that a record number of Catholic men and women religious and members of the clergy were killed around the world in 2009. According to the Vatican, at least 37 Catholic missionaries died violently last year, nearly double the number reported in 2008 and a record high for the decade. The death toll included 30 priests, two religious sisters, two seminarians and two lay volunteers. Most were murdered in the Americas, where 23 pastoral workers were killed, followed by Africa, where 11 lost their lives. In Asia two priests were killed, and in Europe one priest was killed.

In light of our very small place in the universe do the lives of those people matter all that much? Does anyone's life? Our faith assures us that God's love is greater and more magnificent than could be contained in the physical universe. God's love breaks through into our lives, even into our stubborn hearts. Along with the many tragedies that surround us the sacrifice of all those who have died, and our own, finds it's reason in Christ.

Fr Graham