THE TEXT BELOW IS THE TRANSCRIPTION OF THE VIDEO COMMENTARY BY FR. FERNANDO ARMELLINI

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A good Sunday to all. 

In 68 A.D., when Mark wrote his Gospel in Rome, the Christians of that community were asking questions. They were second-generation Christians, still traumatized by Nero’s persecution, which had just ended with the emperor’s death, and they wondered how their history as believers in Christ had begun. 

It’s a question that if we’re interested in our history, we should also ask ourselves, and precisely in the first page of his Gospel that is proposed to us today, Mark answers and says: It all began when Jesus, after having spent 34 years of his life in Nazareth, working as a carpenter, decided to leave his town and went to the Jordan River to be baptized by John. 

The map in the background shows the route. He went to Bethabara, where John was baptizing. He began his public life there. After his baptism, he did not return to Nazareth but moved and settled in Capernaum on the shore of Lake Tiberias. He was taken in by a couple of brothers who welcomed him into their house. They were Peter and Andrew. Around him, a small group of disciples was immediately formed, and with them he undertook a journey that lasted three years. This journey is narrated step by step by the evangelist Mark, and this year we will listen to an episode of it every Sunday, so for us it will feel like walking this road with Jesus and the disciples. 

We will see Jesus traveling the roads of Galilee, walking along the shores of the lake, entering villages, preaching in the synagogues, and accepting invitations to private homes, because he came into the world for this very reason, to be seen and to show, through the beauty of his face, the beauty of the heavenly Father. The first character Mark the evangelist presents is the Baptist, who is fulfilling his mission on the banks of the Jordan River. Let’s listen: 

At that time, John proclaimed, ‘After me comes one with greater authority than I, and I am not worthy to stoop to loosen the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.’

What mission did the Baptist fulfill on the banks of the Jordan? He invited the people to recognize that they had turned away from God, to acknowledge themselves as sinners, and to be converted. When they were ready to turn back to the right path, he baptized them in the Jordan River. He had undertaken a struggle against evil, but he was aware of his weakness and realized he would be overwhelmed by the world’s immense wickedness. Yet his spiritual sensitivity led him to perceive that someone strong was coming, immensely stronger than he was, someone capable of sweeping away sin, evil, and injustice and starting a new world. 

The Baptist enjoyed immense popularity; the people listened to him with such enthusiasm that the historian Josephus Flavius says he could have involved the whole country in a revolt against Rome if he had wanted to. He was spoken of as the expected Messiah, and to dispel these misunderstandings about his person, the Baptist immediately clarified, ‘I am not the Messiah; I baptize with water, but he who shall come after me, he who is stronger than I, will baptize in the Holy Spirit.’ These are two apparently equal baptisms, but in reality they are completely different. 

The Baptist’s is an outward ablution, indicating that baptism occurs when one has become conscious of his sin and is determined to return to the right path. But this baptism does not give you the strength to overcome the evil in you. The second baptism, the baptism of the Holy Spirit, is not an outward washing; it is immersion in the divine life; it is the gift of the Holy Spirit; it is the substitution of the old heart, that heart that drives you to withdraw into yourself, to be selfish, to see in the other not a brother but a rival that you must subdue and serve you. 

In the baptism in the Holy Spirit, this old heart is changed into a new heart; it is the gift of the nature of the sons and daughters of God, offered in the sign of birth at the baptismal font. Now enters the scene the character announced by the Baptist, Jesus, who presents himself in the most unexpected place, because in the Jordan River there were not righteous people but sinners, people far from God. Everything could be expected of the Messiah: the holy one, the righteous one announced by the prophets, but not that he would mingle with sinners at the Jordan. Let us hear: 

At that time, Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 

“Jesus came from Nazareth,” an insignificant village in Galilee. We remember Nathanael, who, upon hearing Philip speak enthusiastically of Jesus of Nazareth, exclaimed, “But can anything good come from Nazareth?” The coming of the Messiah was not expected from there, much less that he would go to the Jordan River among sinners; he would have to go to Jerusalem to be among the holy people, to take power, and to begin the kingdom of God. Everyone is surprised. The evangelist Matthew remembers the Baptist’s reaction when he saw Jesus and said to him, ‘This is not your place; why do you come?’ And Jesus answered him, ‘Leave me; I am carrying out a righteousness of God which you do not understand.’ 

Let us ask ourselves: all the world has been astonished, Nathanael, the Baptist. Are we surprised by this Messiah who now begins to appear in his public life and be seen? If we are not surprised, it means we have not understood it. They understood it, and they were surprised, bewildered. Let’s ask ourselves how we imagine our God and where we place him; perhaps we imagine him far away, in an immense palace, almighty, sitting on his throne, wrapped in a robe, allowing only the saints and the righteous to approach him, and naturally, he chastises those who transgress his precepts. We imagine him this way because, for us, it seems logical; we like this God because he looks like us and reasons like us. 

In Jesus of Nazareth, God becomes visible, and they are surprised. He does not appear on a throne; he is in the water, undressed, among impure people, and does not condemn the sinners who are at his side. And this will not be an isolated episode, because his whole life will be spent with sick people, physically or morally. He has found this humanity, the humanity that God loves, and his life will end at the cross, where he will find himself between two criminals. This is the true God; the others are idols we invented. Let us now listen to what happens after John baptized Jesus: 

As soon as he came up out of the water, he saw heaven opened. 

We have heard the account of the baptism; it unfolded straightforwardly, with the Baptist present. Jesus went down into the waters of the Jordan River and then came out. This is what everyone present saw; they saw nothing extraordinary. The evangelist Mark, with three images, tells us what happened at that time. 

The first of these images: “He saw the heaven opened.” The Greek verb he uses is ‘schizomai,’ which is very strong; it means to break or tear. Matthew and Luke use another, lighter verb, ‘anoiguein,’ which means ‘to open.’ It is different because if I open a door, I can also close it, but if I break it, it can’t be fixed or put back together. That’s what happened. Mark says that at that moment, the heavens were torn; they could no longer be closed. 

We immediately recognize it as an image. What does it mean? To understand the image, we must refer to the idea the Israelites held; they said that the heavens were seven, and that between one heaven and the next there was a distance of 500 years of walking, and that above the seventh heaven was the dwelling place of God. Well, what had happened was that the Lord was sending his prophets to his people, but these Israelites were wicked; they did not listen to the prophets. Then, what did God do? He had closed the heavens; he no longer wanted to relate to men, and the Israelites thought that he had broken off relations with humanity. 

The pious Israelites asked themselves, ‘When will this silence of God, which so distresses us, come to an end? The Lord will no longer speak to us and show us his serene face as he did in the old days.’ And they called upon him. In the 63rd chapter of the Prophet Isaiah, there is a wonderful prayer that the Israelites prayed. It said, ‘Lord, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, our patriarchs do not acknowledge us as their children, but you, Lord, are our Father; we are the work of your hands; do not be too angry, do not remember always our iniquities.’ And then, at the end of this prayer, there is the invocation, ‘Lord, if you would rend the heavens and descend.’ This is the prayer they prayed, ‘we cannot bear this silence of yours, rend the heavens and descend among us.’ 

This extraordinary event occurred at the moment of Jesus’ baptism; we find the answer to this prayer: the heavens were rent, and God came among us; relations between God and humanity were forever restored; all barriers fell, and all fear of God ended. The Lord can no longer close the seven heavens because he would shut out his Son. At the end of his Gospel, Mark says that at the moment of Jesus’s death, the temple’s veil was torn, using the same verb and image. Let us remember that the temple’s veil separated the Holy One from the Holy of Holies, where the Lord dwelt. The high priest could enter the Holy of Holies only once a year, on the day of Kippur, because of God’s presence. No one could see him; the face of God was veiled. 

This is what Mark, the evangelist, says at the end of his Gospel: that veil is torn, and now, beholding Jesus, who gives his life for love, we can all see the face of God; it is torn forever. Now we can all behold the true God in Jesus of Nazareth. It is the face of a God who does not turn away from sinners but stands at their side, a God who is no longer to be feared because he rejects no one. He does not behave like a judge but is always on the side of the frail and sinful. Let us now listen to the second image: 

And he saw the Spirit descend upon him like a dove. 

Whoever is called by God to carry out a mission always receives from him the strength to carry it out; and Jesus had to carry out the most extraordinary mission; that’s why the evangelist Mark points out that at the moment of the baptism, he presented himself full of the divine spirit, of his divine nature, and to help us grasp the message of this event, the evangelist resorts to the image of the dove. This image has many similarities for us. 

The first is certainly that of tenderness, of gentleness, of love. Throughout his public life, we will always find Jesus moved by this spirit of tenderness, love, and gentleness; he will always approach this sick, fragile, sinful humanity with gentleness and love. We will never find Jesus attacking, humiliating, or offending those who have made mistakes in life. This spirit of love will always move him; he will fulfill the promise in the prophet Isaiah when he speaks of the servant of the Lord; he says, ‘He will not break the bruised reed, he will not quench the smoldering wick, he will always seek to restore.’ It is the presence of this spirit of love in Jesus of Nazareth. 

The second motif in the image of the dove: It is the moment of creation, when the book of Genesis says, “The Spirit of God hovered over the waters.” The rabbis said it was like a dove over the deep. What does this image of creation mean to us? It tells us that a new world is being born and that the Spirit will usher in a new humanity. 

A third motif of the dove: The most immediate, we all remember what happened after the flood, when, in the early evening, Noah stretched out his hand and the dove rested on it with an olive branch. When humanity was cleansed of sin, a world of peace was born. He wants to tell us this through the image of the dove, marking the beginning of the public life of Jesus, the beginning of a humanity where peace reigns. Let’s listen to the third image: 

A voice was heard from heaven, saying, ‘You are my beloved Son, my favorite, in whom I am well pleased.’ 

The voice comes from heaven, that is, from God. Of course, it is not a voice heard with the ears; it is the voice of God. It is not heard with the ears; it is perceived in the heart and revealed within. The expression ‘voice from heaven’ was a very well-known image at the time of Jesus; the rabbis used it continually when they wanted to attribute a certain statement to God. For example, if two rabbis were arguing about the interpretation of a sacred text, let’s say Rabbi Hillel and Rabbi Shammai, who were the most famous at the time of Jesus, at a certain point they realized that the correct interpretation, the one that reflected God’s thought, was Hillel’s. They said, ‘A voice was heard from heaven,’ to indicate that the correct interpretation, the one that reflected God’s thinking, was Hillel’s. 

In our passage, this voice from heaven tells us what God thinks of Jesus. We know what men thought of Jesus. Does God agree with the judgment men passed? Was Jesus a winner or a loser? Mark writes after the Passover and has to answer a question asked by the disciples of the Christian communities: ‘Our Master was condemned as a blasphemer by the guarantors of the purity of Israel’s faith; he was an outcast, forsaken by God.’ 

The disturbing question was whether God shared this judgment or agreed with men’s views of Jesus. The answer the evangelist Mark puts in God’s mouth about the voice of God consists of three references to Old Testament texts. 

The first: ‘You are my son.’ This is the voice from heaven. The reference is to the second Psalm: “You are my son; I have begotten you.” In the Semitic world, the term son does not only indicate biological generation; a father recognized one as his son not only when he had begotten him, but when he looked like him. Rather than being begotten by, one was a son when he looked like his father. For example, if a progenitor was loyal, honest, helpful, attentive to others, and generous, and the son was a scoundrel, a thief, what did people say? ‘He is not his son.’ The father recognizes one as his son when he resembles him. 

To the Pharisees, whom did Jesus resemble? Whose son was Jesus, according to them? He resembled Beelzebub. Mark tells us that God recognizes Jesus as his Son, that is, that he guarantees to recognize himself in him, in his words, in his works, especially at the moment when he gives his life. The Father in heaven says, ‘I am like this; he perfectly reflects my image.’ 

We are at the beginning of the Gospel according to Mark, the Gospel that will accompany us throughout this liturgical year. We will see what Jesus does and hear his words. The Father in heaven tells us, ‘Behold him well for seeing him, you see me.’ And he recognizes him as a son. Let us note well that this will also occur in a moment of triumph, when men applaud him, but he recognizes him at the moment when he is with sinners. Let us behold the one true face of the Father. The other faces, especially that of the judge who despises, condemns sinners, and sends them to hell, are but masks that men have applied to the face of God. The only face that reflects the beauty of God is the one we see in Jesus of Nazareth. ‘He is my son,’ said the voice from heaven. 

Second reference: ‘My beloved.’ This refers to the test to which Abraham was subjected; he was asked to offer Isaac, the beloved. By applying this title to Jesus, God invites us not to consider him merely a prophet or a king like the others; no, he is like Isaac, the beloved son, the only one. We, too, are children of God, but he is the only begotten. 

The third reference to the Old Testament: “The son in whom I am well pleased.” Here, the reference is to Chapter 42 of the prophet Isaiah, where it speaks of the servant of the Lord to whom God says, ‘Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one, in whom I am well pleased.’ This is my servant; that is, he carries forward my plan. God declares that Jesus is the servant of whom the prophet spoke; he is sent to establish right and justice in the world. 

The voice from heaven annuls the judgment pronounced by men and denies the messianic expectations of the people of Israel, who could not conceive of a humiliated, defeated, executed Messiah. They imagined him as the one who overcomes, the one who is glorious according to the standards of this world. No. Everything will be turned upside down, even the Baptist will be astonished because all the judgments of men have been turned upside down. Let us be careful, because it is difficult to embrace this image of God; it is difficult to embrace the face of the Father in heaven who shines in the face of Jesus. For example, the effort we make to accept the unconditional love of God that shines in the face of Jesus is hindered by the mask of the justifying god. If we do not try, it means we have not understood this unique face, the one that reveals to us the unconditional love of the Father in heaven. 

I wish you all a good Sunday and a good week.