January 11, 2026

Jesus asks his cousin John the Baptist to do something that doesn’t make sense in John’s eyes: baptize Jesus. Baptism was a sign of someone acknowledging their need for repentance, and repentance implies sin and imperfection. Jesus, of course, was perfect with no sin, hence he had no need to repent and no need to be baptized. John resists at first. “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?” he says. Jesus responds: “Allow it now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.”

I like Jesus’ response. I’m not necessarily saying this is how it was, but you could imagine Jesus curtly responding to John, like, “Don’t ask questions. Just do what I say.” Most likely I’m projecting; that is, that Jesus wasn’t annoyed… again, the whole no-sin and perfection thing. But, still, Jesus doesn’t give an explanation to John. He didn’t sit down, hold his hand, and explain the whole significance of him being baptized. He politely says to John, “just do it.”

There are plenty of times in life when things don’t make sense to us. And I’m not talking about how the tax code works or trying to understand the rules of the game of Cricket. I’m talking about something occurring in your spiritual and moral life. You go to Church every Sunday, say your prayers regularly, live a pretty decent life, and yet you still are suffering–some illness, a bad job (or lack thereof), no spouse or a loveless marriage, a problematic child, a sin you can’t overcome. Why doesn’t God do something? Have we done something wrong to deserve this?

It’s at times like these we are like John the Baptist, confused before the Lord. And Jesus doesn’t necessarily answer our question or give us an explanation. He just says, “trust me.” We don’t like that answer, but hopefully we are obedient like John. John probably shook his head, sighed, or maybe even rolled his eyes, and then proceeded with the baptism. We too sigh, maybe shed a tear, and continue to remain faithful. We continue to look upon the crucifix hanging on the wall before us, continue to move ourselves to Mass and to prayer, continue to hope.

“For thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.”

Righteous is such an interesting word. We’re all familiar with it in a religious context, and yet it’s a word we hardly ever use in everyday speech. You might say, “she is so holy” or “he is really kind and generous,” but you rarely say “Bob is righteous.” Sounds weird. It can also come across negatively, like arrogant, conceited, and judgmental. We’ve almost conflated righteous with self-righteous. But righteousness is a legitimate virtue, and it means to stand upright and true before God. It means to be right. And you can be right without having to tell people you’re right.

Jesus was righteous not only because he was God and could not sin. He was righteous because he did the right thing. And the right thing, in this particular case of his baptism, was to exercise solidarity with the human race. He didn’t need to be baptized. He wanted to be baptized so he could relate to us and share with us. How humble, loving, and beautiful is that?

What is the “right” thing for us to do? What will make us righteous? It all depends on the (hidden) context. Going to Mass, being faithful to prayer, striving to live in a holy fashion and exercise the corporal works of mercy? Yes, but not in themselves. Going to Mass when we’d rather not go to Mass or when we go not to save our own soul, but to offer the Mass for someone in need or simply to worship God–that is righteous. It is the right thing to do. We show our commitment to God and our generosity. Being faithful to prayer when everything is going well in our life and we don’t feel like we need to pray–that is righteous. Striving to live in a holy fashion, which means owning our sin without shaming or condemning ourselves, but letting it be a point of intimacy between us and God–that is righteousness. Exercising the corporal works of mercy not just to check a box to satisfy our guilty conscience or school service hours, but because it makes us uncomfortable and forces us to rely on God’s help–that is righteousness.

It is the hidden intention behind the action that makes us righteous. Perhaps this is why we don’t call one another righteous: we don’t know the hidden context. But maybe we could give one another the benefit of the doubt. That we could assume all the good actions we are doing do, indeed, have the proper intention, making us all righteous. That when I see you going to Mass that I believe you are doing it for the right reason, and so forth.

Back to the original scene with the two cousins. Jesus was righteous by being baptized. John was righteous too by baptizing Jesus. John obeyed, even though it made no sense and it was difficult. His obedience sprang from his love and trust in his cousin. Hence, we see the beauty of spiritual conundrums. Something might not make sense so the only option is to obey out of love (or not obey). I pray in this new year you may have many spiritual conundrums in your life. That way, when I see you doing your good deeds, I will know you are truly righteous.

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This Tuesday, January 13 is a Parent Confirmation Retreat meeting at 7pm in the Holy Family Chapel. Confirmation for our 8th graders this year will be on Saturday, February 7th at 10am and 1:30pm.

Also on Tuesday, January 13th is Word on the Street for Young Adults at the Harp and Fiddle at 7pm. Save the date for our regular Word on the Street (for all ages) on Wednesday, February 4th.

As we return to Ordinary Time following today’s feast, I just want to once again thank all of those who helped decorate the church, both inside and outside, for the Advent and Christmas seasons. The trees, the poinsettias, the lights outside were all put by parishioner volunteers. The church looked beautiful, and we saved a significant amount of money, so thank you. We are blessed at St. Paul of the Cross with many dedicated parishioners who do so much to keep our parish going strong.

Yours in Christ,

Fr. James Wallace