The events surrounding the baptism of Jesus are pretty dramatic, or, at least, the telling of them is dramatic: the dove, the voice – that must have been some post-baptism prayer – in this version from Luke, Jesus gets baptized with everyone else and then, while he’s praying, the voice and the Spirit come. His baptism is referenced in some way in all four Gospels, and although its details shift depending on who tells it, it serves the purpose of letting people know who Jesus is. He, not John, is the beloved son of God. And maybe, just maybe, the events surrounding his baptism also confirm for Jesus who he is. From here he goes straight to the desert for forty days. Maybe he’s trying to work out his identity or trying to figure out what it all means or trying to get to know God a little better. We can only guess at his reasons, but it seems clear that he’s deeply affected by what happens at his baptism.

These events are no real surprise to us, though, are they? We’ve just come from Advent and Christmas, with all the stories of prophesies fulfilled, and Jesus’s miraculous conception, birth, and childhood. We don’t bat an eye at a dove and a voice at his baptism, do we? Of course the Spirit is going to show up.

But what might surprise us, maybe even to the point of disbelief, is the fact that what the voice of God says of Jesus is true for us too: “You are my beloved child; with you I am well pleased.” The Spirit shows up for us too in the living waters of our baptism. We enter into the Body of Christ in a very real way. As beloved as Christ is, we are too.

My own baptism was not remarkable, at least outwardly. I was three months old, so I have no memory of the blessed event, although if something dramatic had happened, my family would for sure still be telling the story. What about you? Was there anything particularly memorable about your baptism?

Even if our baptisms were full of spectacle and wonder, would that be enough to convince us of our belovedness before God? I’m not sure. For some reason, that’s hard to believe.

It’s easy to believe that other people are beloved of God, though, right? When you look at a child being baptized – your own or someone else’s – it’s easy to see how pleased God must be with them. I used to belong to a parish that would sometimes baptize babies by immersion, despite how risky it is to remove a baby’s diaper and place them into warm water. I remember this one baby who was the cutest, fattest baby you’ve ever seen. When the priest put her in the water, she even splashed around in it, and afterwards, wrapped snug in a towel, she kicked her feet and waved her hands, causing a wave of undiluted delight through the whole church. Whoa. That one is beloved of God for sure.

Even with children who aren’t quite so cute anymore, maybe even with some adults, belovedness may be obvious to you but not so much to them. Do you know anyone like that? People who struggle with their own worth, ones who, if they could believe in their belovedness, would have a whole new lease on life.

I want to pause to say that I’m not just talking about self-esteem. That can be a slippery slope. I remember in grade school being talked to about that a lot. I’m a Gen Xer, a latch key kid, left home alone. I wasn’t really neglected, but everyone assumed my generation had self-esteem issues, and most of us probably did. So, we had grade school assemblies that didn’t really work but gave fixing our self-esteem a good college try. And now we hear about the over-rewarding of kids, right? Everyone gets a trophy; applause all around. I don’t think that really helps either. Young adults who grew up that way have told me that they don’t know how to do things for themselves, that they can’t deal with failure or disappointment.

Feeling good is not the same thing as knowing we’re beloved. Being God’s beloved is deeper than self-esteem, which can be fleeting. Believing we’re loved by God comes first, and maybe self-love after. Belovedness is not some sappy, saccharine thing. It’s a profound and mysterious gift that pushes into the very core of who you are – and who God is. If we really believe in the mystery of the Incarnation that we profess, that God took flesh and dwelt among us and dwells within us, then we must acknowledge that whoever Christ is defines who we are too.

Believing in belovedness requires deep trust in God. It can make all the difference in the world in how we relate to God, ourselves, and other people. Knowing we’re beloved helps us not to descend into despair in the face of struggle or failure. It keeps us humble too, because we know that love is not earned but that it’s all God’s grace. It’s not about me but about God.

And if I were to believe in and live out of my own belovedness, then I would also have to trust that other people are beloved too. I’m not special, but I am loved. That sure would cut down on entitlement and even privilege, because we’re all loved equally, and it’s not about us. If people believed in their belovedness, would there be greed or jealousy or judgement? Call me an idealist, and I know I am, but I think we would live at ease with each other in a very different way than we live now if we could trust that we are loved by God and that God is pleased with us as we are. Then we’d be freer to keep growing into more.

I don’t know how we get there. Truly, my own feelings of inadequacy can paralyze me if I let them, and so I try to push against those and toward God. I do believe, though, that this feast of the Baptism of the Lord is a helpful reminder. As it comes around every year, we hear this invitation to see ourselves mirrored in Christ, in all of Christ’s belovedness. Each time we have an opportunity to trust a little more, not in ourselves, but in God’s profound and grace-filled love for us.

I want to close with something I found on New Year’s Eve, on the Mindfulness Ireland Facebook page, as I was scrolling through social media, waiting for the ball to drop. As someone who makes resolutions, who’s always trying to be better, this really touched me, and I hope it resonates for you too. It’s by Donna Ashworth.

I, of course, would add that you don’t have to resolve to be a whole new you because you are beloved and because God is so pleased with you already. May we open ourselves to trust in God’s incredible and enduring love.

For reflection:

• Here we are at the dawn of a new year, a few days in. You made it through 2021, an incredibly difficult year, and you’ll make it through this one too. How can you move forward into 2022, fully aware that you are God’s beloved and that with you God is so well pleased?

• What would that look like?

• What does it mean to be God’s beloved?

• How can you move through the new year mirroring to your family, coworkers, friends, and communities their belovedness too?

• I invite you to spend a few moments just basking in the love of God.

By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP

Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She also serves on the Coordinating Council of Spiritual Directors International. She enjoys music, meaningful conversations, dancing, and spicy food.