
The Baptism of the Lord Jesus teaches us something about the theology of geography.
There are many places where water for baptism could be found in the land of Israel. Why was Jesus baptized by John in the Jordan Valley near the Dead Sea?
Biblical geography was highlighted last week as Cardinal Pietro Parolin, secretary of state, consecrated a new church at the Al-Maghtas site on the east bank of the Jordan River. “Al-Maghtas” is Arabic for “immersion,” commonly translated in the ecclesial context to “baptism.”
The project has been underway for a long time; Pope Benedict XVI laid the cornerstone on his visit in 2009. The new church, one of the largest Catholic churches in the Middle East, commemorates the place where the public ministry of Jesus began.
“This place, which is the holy place of the baptism of Jesus, which also marks the beginning of the ministry of Jesus, marks a new beginning for the life of our Church,” said Cardinal Parolin.
And that “holy place” has a special geographical significance. The baptism of Jesus took place in the Jordan River, in the valley east of Jerusalem, just north of the Dead Sea and not far from the ancient city of Jericho. Far from accidental, all of this is significant.
Noting that the nearby Dead Sea is the lowest place on earth, Cardinal Parolin said that “it is precisely here that God came to meet us, as if to gather into his embrace also those from afar.”
That embrace extends to the “lowest,” the “deadest” and “oldest.”
The Dead Sea sits some 1,400 feet below sea level. The story of the Incarnation is one of descent; God lowers himself to become one like us, to walk alongside us, to draw close to us so that we can walk alongside him back to the Father, from whom he descends.
He doesn’t do that by half-measures. When he descends, he descends to the lowest point. He begins his public ministry by going to the lowest point. No one can then say that Jesus did not go far enough to meet me; he went as far as possible. That is why the baptism took place where it did.
We usually do baptisms today by pouring water on the head, which loses some of the symbolism of full immersion. Having water poured on our head or face can be cleansing, even refreshing. And the sacrament of baptism does cleanse and refresh us.
Immersion is something different. It can be disorienting and, if held underwater long enough, it can be distressing. Eventually it will bring death.
That’s an important part of the symbolism of baptism: that we go down into the place of death, the deep waters where man cannot live, to rise again. We are baptized into the death of Christ, as St. Paul teaches us (Romans 6:3), so that we may rise again to new life.
And where on the planet are the waters the most death-bringing? The Dead Sea. Man cannot live under any waters.
Nothing can live in the Dead Sea. They are the deadest waters on the planet. Hence the baptism took place close by, the place where even the water brings death.
The prophet Ezekiel has a vision of fresh, life-giving waters flowing out of the Temple of Jerusalem down to the Arabah, to the Dead Sea, and transforming it into a place of life (Ezekiel 47:8). That is a vision of baptism, for out of the new Temple, which is Jesus himself, flows water that brings life. No place on earth makes that clearer than his baptismal site, situated between Jerusalem’s Temple and the Dead Sea.
Only a few miles from where John baptized Jesus is the oldest continually lived-in city on earth — Jericho. Thus when Jesus began his public ministry, it was at the “oldest” place in human history. His descent is not only deep, to the lowest point, but stretches back to the oldest point. Nothing in human history, nothing that man has experienced, is beyond the reach of the ministry of Jesus.
In being baptized near Jericho, Jesus embraces all of history, going back to the beginning. He touches the domain of death. He touches the recesses of history. He touches the depths of geology.
This theology of geography teaches us that nothing in our past, nothing that has brought us low, nothing that has pushed us down, nothing that kept us far from him, nothing that washed over us, nothing that has frightened us or overwhelmed us — nothing at all puts us beyond the reach of Jesus. There is no distance, no height, nor depth, not length, nor breadth, nor time in the past, nor time in the future that Jesus has not or will not travel to meet us, to dwell with us (Romans 8:38-39). That is the meaning of baptism.
There are limits to the theology of geography. Our souls are not physical places; our souls are spiritual realities. But biblical geography teaches us that there is no place too far for Jesus to go. And that includes our soul, where he can dwell today, as vividly and truly, as he came to the River Jordan to be baptized by John.
The theology of the baptismal site answers the question that Pope Francis asked at his Angelus address for this past Sunday’s feast in Rome.
“Do we feel loved and accompanied by God, or do we think he is far away from us?”
He is not far away. He has come to the lowest place, the deadest place, the oldest place. And in witness of that now stands the Church’s newest shrine.