Epiphany 1A – Baptism of the Lord: The Maturing of our “Yes”
In Matthew’s account of the Baptism of Jesus, there is a brief exchange that can be missed. When Jesus comes to John at the Jordan, John hesitates and then says, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” Jesus responds, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” In other words: For now, this is what God’s justice requires. Those words — for now — matter. They suggest movement, growth and development. They tell us that Jesus’ understanding of his calling unfolded over time. We sometimes imagine Jesus stepping into adulthood with everything already clear, but the Gospels give us a fuller, more human picture.
Luke tells us that Jesus “grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and with people.” He grew just as we grow: physically, intellectually, spiritually, socially. He learned. He matured. He came to a deeper understanding over time. His baptism, then, is not only a moment of divine affirmation, but it is also a moment when Jesus steps more fully into his calling as he understands it at this stage of his life. His yes to God is becoming clearer.
We see a similar pattern in the life of Mary. At the Annunciation, Mary says yes as a young teenager, faced with a calling that she cannot possibly totally grasp and understand. Her yes is faithful and courageous, but it is also the yes of someone at the beginning of a long journey. Her yes must have changed as she carried Jesus, gave birth to him, raised him, and watched him step out into his own calling. Mary’s Magnificat is a vibrant celebration of her saying yes to God as she sings of hope and promise, but years of life and unexpected sorrow surely deepened what that promise and call meant. Like Jesus, Mary’s yes matured as life unfolded.
Our celebration of the Baptism of Jesus invites us to recognize that same truth in ourselves. Most of us have said yes to God in significant ways: through baptismal promises made or renewed, through marriage vows, ordination, or commitments to love, forgive, serve, and remain faithful. At the moment that we say yes, we understand something and we can see a glimpse of the path ahead, but we never comprehend everything that it means or requires. Time teaches us what our yes really means. What may have once seemed simple becomes demanding or complex. What may have felt idealistic becomes costly or sacrificial. What once was spoken with confidence becomes something we must relearn and recommit to with humility. But this does not mean our earlier yes was incomplete. It means it was a living response to saying yes — one that is meant to grow, mature and be understood with greater insight as time goes on as our yes matures.
The Baptism of Jesus reminds us that faith is not about having a fully formed understanding from the beginning. It is about continuing to say yes as God’s call unfolds before us and our understanding of that yes and that call deepens. Standing in the Jordan, Jesus does not claim to know all that lies ahead. He simply steps into the water because this is what faithfulness, what saying yes, requires now. And the heavens open, not because Jesus has finished the journey, but because he has consented to walk it: he has said yes to what is before him.
The question this Sunday places before us is not whether we have said yes to God, but how that yes has changed over time. How has your understanding of your commitments matured? What have joy and grief, love and loss taught you about what you promised? And where might God be inviting you to say yes again, for now?
As we sit with this feast, it feels impossible not to acknowledge the wider context in which we are presently hearing it. We are living in a season of social and national unrest. The events of the past week and of the past several months have left many people feeling angry, confused, frightened, and uncertain. We may find ourselves wondering where we stand nationally, globally, communally, and even within our own selves. In moments like this, it can be tempting to look for something entirely new: new certainty, new clarity, a brand-new answer. But the Baptism of Jesus invites a different kind of response. It asks us to return to the commitments we have already made, to the yeses we have already spoken, and to ask: Where does that yes place us now?
Throughout the Gospels, Jesus consistently stands alongside those who are marginalized and oppressed: the poor, the sick, the imprisoned, migrants and strangers, those who are misunderstood or pushed to the edges of society. His response is never abstract or dismissive, Jesus sees people as they truly are and he responds with compassion, mercy, and dignity. He refuses to reduce anyone to a simple category or a problem to be solved. That matters in a moment like this.
Faithfulness does not require us to deny the confusion, anger, or hurt we are experiencing. It asks us to acknowledge them honestly, and then to let our response be shaped by the yes we have already given to God. The question is not simply, What do I feel right now? but How does my baptismal yes guide my response in this moment? When we return to those yeses spoken in baptism, in vows, in commitments to love and justice, we may discover that God is not calling us somewhere entirely new but calling us to live more deeply into what we have already begun. The response God asks of us now is not separate from our earlier faithfulness; it is part of it. It is the next step in a journey already underway.
At the Jordan, Jesus did not receive a roadmap for everything that lies ahead. He receives an affirmation, “You are my beloved” and then he continues to walk the path that love opens before him. May we trust that same grace as we navigate this moment of unrest. May our response, whatever form it takes, grow out of the yes we have already spoken, and may we have the courage to keep walking, for now, in faithfulness, compassion, and hope.