Into the water for baptism, out of the water as a son and daughter of God. From that glorious day, I am forever submerged in God, and God is gripped in me; I am in His life, He is in my life. We are imbued with God, inside God, as in the air we breathe, in the light that kisses our eyes.
God didn’t want it any other way; always immersed in a source that will never fail, enveloped by a force of newness in God. And this happened not only in the ritual of that distant day, with a few drops of water, but it happens every day in our existential, perennial, infinite baptism: we are immersed in an ocean of love, and we do not realize it.
The scene of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan centers on what happens immediately afterwards: the sky opens, cracks, tears under the urgency of God. That sky is neither empty nor silent. Supreme words come out of it, among the highest you will ever hear about yourself: You are my beloved son; in you, I am very well pleased.
Words that burn and blaze: son, love, joy. “Son,” perhaps the most powerful word, ignites miracles in the heart. Beloved without conditions, I find tenderness in his eyes and the abundance of his words. Joy reflects the exultation of the heavens, celebrating every child who lives, seeks, departs, or returns.
Elijah once heard the sound of a gentle breeze, and God was there!