St. Ignatius Loyola taught his Jesuits a way of encountering God that he called the Spiritual Exercises. One exercise is meditating on a scene from the Gospels. You try to picture the event in detail, using all your senses, as if you were actually present. As you watch Christ, he becomes more real. Your heart opens to his presence in your life. You come away with a greater desire to know and serve him.
I’ve been meditating on Jesus’ baptism. I started with some background. John the Baptist and Jesus were the same age and related. Since their mothers were close, they probably knew each other well. So it’s not surprising that Jesus began his public ministry by coming to John for baptism. It’s also not surprising that John resisted the idea. He’d heard the story of our Lord’s birth and had seen Christ’s holiness for himself. He thought they should switch places.
I picture something like a Billy Graham revival. John preaches a fiery sermon. There is singing. Then those who feel called came forward for baptism. John’s disciples organize them into a line. At first, everyone is very quiet, but eventually people begin talking softly to each other. Of course, some just came for the show. They’re visiting and snacking, while kids and dogs ran around.
That picture reminds me of the lines for confessors at communal penance services. Have you noticed how everyone’s so quiet and serious at first? Then people start chatting. I think some people join the conversation because they don’t want to seem stuck up, even though they would prefer to keep still in preparation for reconciliation. When they come out of the confessional and say their penance, many feel free to talk, read, walk around outside or even leave. Is it still a communal service if half the community is long gone?
But I digress. I think Jesus came to the Jordan alone and got in line just like everyone else. I think he was the only one who heard God declare, “You are my beloved Son.” It was a very private moment between Christ and his father in a very public place.
That gets me thinking about standing in line for communion. I don’t know what the other communicants are experiencing. For me, it could be just a routine Sunday. Someone else, though, might be returning to the altar after a long absence. Another might be suffering through a divorce or a child’s illness. Yet another may be struggling with a major decision. I need to be quiet and reverent for their sake as well as my own.
Come on, Kathy, back to the Jordan River. I imagine Jesus quietly and reverently waiting his turn. He rejoices at the power of John’s preaching and at the number of people coming forward for baptism. He prays the Spirit will move more bystanders to join the line. Or maybe he isn’t thinking anything at all. Maybe he’s just being — peaceful, present and trusting.
I’d like to be more that way in all the lines in my life. Take, for instance, the checkout line at the supermarket. There’s nothing to do but wait, so why not just rest in God’s peace until it’s my turn? Would my stillness perhaps influence nearby shoppers to also take a deep breath and receive a moment’s grace?
I’ve spent weeks now meditating on Christ’s baptism, both in prayer and while doing my daily chores. Prayer and meditation don’t usually affect me this strongly. I’m actually looking forward to my next quiet time. Maybe Ignatius knew what he was talking about. Imagine that!
Kathleen welcomes comments. Send them to Kathleen Choi, 1706 Waianuenue Ave., Hilo, HI 96720, or e-mail: kathchoi@hawaii.rr.com.
