Our beautiful and crazed Christmas season ends with quite the narrative jump. The baby Jesus, born in the stable on Christmas morning, is now a thirty-year-old that emerges seemingly out of nowhere to join his cousin, John the Baptist. He arrives to be baptized and to begin his public life. For our modern sensibilities it can seem strange. Are we to believe Jesus wasn’t a boy? Never struggled as a teen? How did Jesus get educated in the Scriptures? What did he do to support himself? Where’s Joseph? The Gospel writers, and this sounds terrible, really didn’t care. It is important to note that in ancient times children were considered essentially non-persons, property of their parents, so Jesus’ youth wouldn’t have concerned his contemporaries. The point, I suppose, in beginning Jesus’ public ministry immediately following our holiday season is to say Here we go. It’s the new year, let’s get started, just like our Lord.
I don’t know about you but this time of year is always a little hard. The days are so short and the cold gray line across the horizon seems endless. These shortened days of quiet, of mufflers pouring steam in traffic columns, these days of receipts, can be difficult to encourage new beginnings. I can feel a little down thinking that in the baptism of the Lord I don’t have much energy to begin anything, but then I think of the other person in the story. I think of John the Baptist.
I’ve written before about the reason that Jesus, though sinless, was baptized. Essentially, he is being the example he is preaching. Of all the titles given to our Savior the most ubiquitous, but perhaps overlooked, is that of teacher or Rabbi. I take great comfort when I think that this most perfect of teachers once had to learn from a teacher. Even Jesus, our Lord and Savior, needed a teacher and John was his.
This time of year may not be the best season to “go out and preach the Good News,” but it is a good time of year to learn—to stay in, settle down, put on the kettle, open the novel, turn on the Berlioz and sit down in front of the film and learn something from our teachers, pastors, artists. Of course, learning and doing aren’t mutually exclusive, but I hope this time of inactivity can be a very active one for the mind! Remember, the bare tree is green inside.
I would be remiss to mention that I’m writing this reflection in a school, our Parish ministry, our Academy surrounded by teachers. The individuals who teach here are very much like John the Baptist. Wise, compassionate, truthful and a little intimidating! And, like John the Baptist, I, too, sit at their feet to listen, encouraged, waiting for the day I get the bravery to raise my hand and begin again.
I’ll be seeing you,
Elliot