The Feast of the Baptism of the Lord marks a turning point.
Until now, the Church has been celebrating the hidden life of Christ —
the child in Bethlehem,
the family in Nazareth,
the quiet years of obedience.
Today, Jesus steps into public view.
And the way He begins tells us everything about who He is and what He has come to do.
If we were planning the Messiah’s first appearance, we would not choose the River Jordan.
We might choose the Temple.
Or a miracle.
Or a declaration of power.
Instead, Jesus goes to a river associated with repentance and sin.
John the Baptist is there, calling people to change their lives.
People are stepping into the water to admit their need for mercy.
And Jesus joins them.
This is the first shock of the feast.
John understands immediately that something is wrong.
His baptism is for sinners.
Jesus has no sin.
So John protests: “I need to be baptised by you, and yet you come to me?”
Jesus insists.
Not because He needs cleansing —
but because we do.
From the very beginning of His public life, Jesus chooses to stand where sinners stand.
He does not keep His distance.
He steps into the line.
Without words, Jesus is saying:
“I am with them.
I will carry this.
I will go where they must go.”
Already, the Cross is in view.
Then the Gospel tells us: “The heavens were opened.”
That is not a decorative detail.
In Scripture, closed heavens mean separation —
distance between God and humanity caused by sin.
Opened heavens mean access restored.
Reconciliation.
Life reopened.
What was closed through disobedience is opened through obedience.
Not by human effort,
but by Christ’s humility.
The Spirit descends like a dove.
The Spirit who hovered over the waters at creation
now descends at the beginning of the new creation.
The Spirit who empowered prophets and kings
now rests permanently upon the Son.
And then the Father speaks:
“This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
This is not encouragement.
It is revelation.
Before Jesus preaches a sermon,
before He works a miracle,
before He calls a disciple,
the Father declares who He is.
Jesus’ mission flows from relationship, not performance.
The first reading from Isaiah now makes sense.
The servant of the Lord does not crush the weak.
He is faithful, patient, obedient.
At the Jordan, Jesus is revealed as that servant —
the Messiah who saves not by force,
but by self-giving love.
And this feast is not only about Christ.
It is about us.
Because what happens publicly to Jesus at the Jordan
happens sacramentally to us in Baptism.
In Baptism:
sin is forgiven
grace is given
the Spirit comes to dwell within us
heaven is opened
a real belonging is created
The same Father who says,
“This is my beloved Son,”
says over every baptised person:
“You belong to me.”
Baptism is not a symbol alone.
It is a real change of identity.
God does not say, “Let’s see how this goes.”
He says, “You are mine.”
That is why Baptism is serious.
Because it changes who a person is.
But the Church also reminds us today
that Baptism is not the end of something.
It is the beginning.
Jesus’ baptism marks the start of His mission.
Our baptism marks the start of ours.
From that moment on, we are called to live as those who belong to Christ.
That means obedience over convenience.
Truth over comfort.
Faithfulness over popularity.
It means taking sin seriously — and mercy seriously.
It means returning to grace when we fall.
The danger is that Baptism becomes something in the past —
a date in a register,
a photograph in an album.
The Church gives us this feast every year
to remind us who we are.
We are not self-made.
We are claimed.
We are not abandoned.
We are accompanied.
We are not left to save ourselves.
We are saved — and sent.
At the Jordan, Jesus steps into the water
so that we might step into life.
He takes His place among sinners
so that sinners may take their place with God.
The heavens are opened.
The Spirit descends.
The Father speaks.
And the path of salvation begins.
May we remember our Baptism with gratitude.
May we live it with seriousness.
And may we follow the One
who stood where we stand
so that we might stand where He is.