We are called by name

 

A few years ago when I was still working, I had to stay away from home for one to two weeks at a time, sometimes longer.  So I spent a lot of time in hotel rooms (or the company apartments) and eating out regularly.  I became a familiar face to several of the restaurants I enjoyed, to the point where some of them even got to know me by name.  One, in particular, didn’t know my actual name for a long time—they simply called me “Stella”, based on my beer of choice with dinner.  Even after they found out my “Christian” name, I was still known as “Stella”.  I enjoyed my dinners more at that particular place because they almost always knew when I was coming!  I would never have to wait to be seated at “my” table (I sat at the same table every visit).  When I walked in, my beer, with an ice-cold glass to pour it in, would already be waiting for me.  If it was a weeknight, they knew I wanted the “Vinny’s Special” with the sausage and hot peppers.  If I went on a Friday night, they knew I would be ordering the linguine with clams, half-red and half-white sauce (even though they didn’t ‘normally’ split them for ‘usual’ patrons).  Most of the time, if business was slow, some of the servers would come and sit with me and we’d talk about our families, and sometimes we’d even discuss spiritual matters.  It was a familiarity that made me forget, if only for a moment, that I was far away from my wife, my kids, and my grandchildren; it felt a little like “home”.  Now that I’m retired, I sometimes miss that interaction with my “family away from home.”  I was reminded of them again today while reflecting on Luke’s account of the Baptism of Jesus.

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine.  When you pass through waters, I will be with you; through rivers, you shall not be swept away.  When you walk through fire, you shall not be burned, nor will flames consume you. For I, the LORD, am your God, the Holy One of Israel, your savior. (Isaiah 64:1-3)

No sooner did Jesus emerge from the muddy River Jordan, than the skies were torn in two, the Holy Spirit descended on Him, and God the Father thundered from heaven "This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased."   This is the moment when the divine identity of Jesus was revealed (Mark 1:7-11).

And yet, that booming baptismal declaration also concealed something – who Jesus is.  What does it mean to be "My son, the beloved"?

The answer unfolded slowly in the next few years in Jesus’ life, when, filled with the Holy Spirit, He embarked on His mission, proclaiming the Good News, healing the sick, giving sight to the blind, unshackling prisoners, taking up His cross.

What happened to Jesus happens to us at our baptism, as well.  The first words in the Sacrament of Baptism come in the form of a question: What name do you give this child?  The priest or deacon isn’t seeking information for a certificate.  It’s the Church asking the existential question: what is the identity of this child?  Who is this child?"  And when the parents announce for all to hear – his name is Stephen; her name is Marilyn – at that moment, the Church declares "I claim you for Christ."  Our identity is forever marked with the sign of the cross on our forehead.

At that moment, the Holy Spirit entered into us and, like a proud parent, God the Father again thundered His declaration: "This is my son, this is my daughter whom I love."  The Divine Parent has spoken.

But this baptismal declaration conceals as much as it reveals.  How we live our lives as beloved sons and daughters of God slowly discloses the answer.  It is revealed to the extent that we proclaim the Good News, as we serve our brothers and sisters.  Ultimately, it’s revealed as we take up our cross.