One of the more powerful moments on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land is to see, experience and remember at the Jordan River the baptism of Jesus. As the Sea of Galilee empties into the Jordan, a place of remembrance has been set up for pilgrims to come and experience or remember their own baptism. No one I know believes this is the spot Jesus was baptized, but it’s a powerful place anyway.
On this last journey, my colleague and friend Shannon was leading our time of devotion and remembrance. We were led to a small area where another batch of pilgrims were having their own service. The scene was startling as we sat and tried to concentrate on our familiar English words while a foreign language none of us could place remembered and sang and celebrated.
At that moment I became radically clear that this faith of mine is shared across the globe. I know that sounds a little silly but at the moment it was profound. I very easily get caught up in what is happening in my little world. I can become so preoccupied with the demands close at hand that I forget that my God is bigger than my local problems. The same God who can hear all the languages of the world call out in prayer and praise is the same God who calls me to be near.
This week, our prayer journey with Kristen Vincent’s book We are Beloved is inviting us to begin with the word “beloved.” She invites us to see that at Jesus’ baptism with the words spoken over him that his experience in the wilderness was a place to wrestle with this identity. That’s a little strange to think about—that Jesus needed time to grasp his identity. But there is something wonderfully calming about that as well. Jesus…needed…time. He needed to allow the words “you are my beloved son” to wash over and consume him.
Vincent quotes one of my favorite authors, Henri Nouwen, “being the beloved expresses the core truth of our existence.” I believe, along with Vincent, that Jesus’ ministry and life were drawn out of his core identity – he is the beloved. It is part of the Good News story that because of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection that I have been invited in and adopted as a beloved son of God. And guess what? You have too! Wow.
That feeling of the bigness of God that I experienced at the Jordan popped up several times on this pilgrimage. As we rocked on the waves of the Sea of Galilee, as we stood shoulder to shoulder with pilgrims at the Church of the Nativity, and listened to singing at the fields where the angels declared Glory, and into the church where the cross once stood and where a tomb still remains empty, I heard and saw voices and faces who were very different from mine, and yet they were meeting my Jesus too. They were the beloved – we were the beloved all responding together.
If my Jesus is their Jesus; and if our God can look down and hear and enter into all of our mess; and if in spite of all this God still wants to be near me and to call me beloved, then wow isn’t even big enough. I was thankful for the distraction and noise of the Jordan River that afternoon, but I was even more thankful to know that the same voice that Jesus heard is still calling me His beloved as well.
As we take time this week, I invite you to join me and Kristen Vincent and dwell on this core existence – being his beloved. For some of us, it may take the next 40 days to come to grips (or maybe longer) and that’s ok. Some of us have gotten so busy in our little world of chaos, conflict, and confusion that it may take 40 days to shout out the noise and remember we are beloved. In any case, let us allow “divine love” to reach out and touch us. In a world as big as this one is – with all of humanity crying out – the Father is calling you to come, to be near, and to hear “you are my beloved, and you bring me much happiness.”
As one of God’s beloved, find someone this week to share the good news
that they too are beloved by Abba.