Matthew
3:13-17
In
1873, a Belgian priest named Damien de Veuster arrived at the leper colony on
Molokai, in the Hawaiian islands. Europeans had brought that horrible disease
to Hawaii, and it proved to be devastating. So in 1868, the leper colony on
Molokai was established and anyone with the disease was forced to go there:
they were literally dumped in the surf and left to fend for themselves. Living
conditions were squalid, and dead bodies were left to be eaten by dogs and
pigs. It was in this hellish place that Fr. Damien came to serve. He built a
church and a cemetery, and helped people construct real homes. He lived
intimately with them, caring for them, eating with them, creating a genuine
sense of community, and enabling people to live and die with dignity. The transformation
he wrought was extraordinary. Eleven years into his ministry, he accidentally
put his foot into scalding water — and felt nothing. He realized he had
contracted the disease himself. At his next Mass, he said to his congregation,
“Now I am truly one of you.” And he kept on ministering among them until his
death from leprosy in 1889. There are many moving things about his story, but
his words in particular have been haunting me as I have thought about this
sermon: “Now I am truly one of you.”
Why
do you suppose Jesus was baptized? John’s baptism was a baptism of repentance:
the people who came out to be baptized by John were sinners who wanted to draw
closer to God. So it would seem that Jesus is the one person in the world who
should not be baptized. Matthew’s Gospel has already told us that he was
conceived by the Holy Spirit, that he is the Son of God. John himself somehow
knows this, so when Jesus arrives, John says, I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me? But Jesus
insists and says that it is proper for us
to fulfill all righteousness. Commentators have pondered and debated that
verse for centuries, but I think it says something of ultimate importance to
us: the righteousness, meaning the faithful goodness, of God can only be fulfilled
if Jesus joins all those sinners in the river and gets baptized right along
with them. When he comes out of the water, he can say, “Now I am truly one of
you.” And it’s in that moment of complete solidarity with broken and sinful
people, that the Holy Spirit comes upon Jesus like a dove and the voice from
heaven says, This is my Son, the Beloved,
with whom I am well pleased.
Let
me be clear: God is pleased that Jesus identifies and draws close to people not
when they are attractive, respectable, and morally upright, but when they are
hurting, sinful, and in need of mercy. Jesus is on the side of those who
suffer, be it from sinful choices, disease, or just bad luck. And Jesus does
not draw near to condemn or destroy. He lives the words of Isaiah we heard
today, when the prophet speaks of God’s suffering servant: a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not
quench. Jesus will spend the rest of his life caring for ordinary, flawed,
and hurting people until he is crucified between two criminals. Even in death
he is one with sinners. We talk about being baptized into Christ, and so we
are: we share in his death and resurrection, we receive his Spirit. But before
we can be baptized into Christ, he has to be baptized into us. Given his
mission, his life’s work, to show that God is truly one with humanity, Jesus of
all people most needs to be baptized.
So
what does that mean for us? I look at you and you all look great: you’re clean,
well-dressed, respectable, and generally successful. And, hopefully, I am
reasonably presentable as well. But I have been a priest long enough, I’ve been
a human being long enough, to know that outward appearances can be deceiving. I
know that many of you are struggling and hurting, because you’ve told me. I
know the ways I struggle and hurt. And we would be terribly mistaken if we
thought that God just cares about our outward appearances or that God just
loves us when we are good or successful or perfect. That belief has caused
tremendous damage to people down through the ages. The Jesus who wades out into
that river with all those sinners shows us that is where he wants to be: where
we are most broken, most ashamed, most unpresentable. There is nothing so
powerful as being fully ourselves, with all our suffering and all our sin, in
the presence of the living Christ. That’s where the Holy Spirit within us wants
to go, to where we are most in need. It allows God to begin the work of deep
healing and forgiveness that brings new life. This is what the love of God
enfleshed in Jesus does. That’s why we call him our Savior.
And
this also speaks directly to the mission of the Church, which is to meet the
pain of our world with the love of Christ. We do that in physical acts of
mercy, of course, like feeding hungry people. But equally important are the
ways we help one another emotionally and spiritually. Perhaps the greatest gift
we can give to another person is to see them as they truly are, with all their
flaws and sins, and accept them as they are, love them as they are. I find that
just listening to people when they are hurting and sharing in their pain is
Christ-filled and healing. I know how deeply important it has been for me when
people listen to me like that, with compassion and kindness. How in God’s name
did the church ever get into the business of judging people? It’s not our job
to condemn, it’s our job to care, and to care like Christ — tenderly,
mercifully, not breaking a bruised reed or quenching a dimly burning wick.
I
encourage you this week to show Christ your least attractive self. I mean
deliberately and consciously tell Jesus about your worst sins, and share with
him where you are most hurting for whatever reason. And then let him love you.
Let the Spirit begin to soothe you and renew you. Practice trusting that God
loves you and accepts you right in that place of brokenness. The more we allow
ourselves to experience such mercy, the more we, like Fr. Damien and countless
believers down through the centuries, will extend that mercy to others. Because
they need it. We need it. We are all in the water together, and, thank God,
Jesus is right there with us.
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