Jesus' Baptism

Everyone had heard of him,
this man that lived
in the desert.
John
his name was
although some people thought he was
Elijah.
I ask you!
Elijah had been dead and gone
for so many years.
But there was something
odd about him,
frightening even.
I’d been out there
to see him;
to listen to him,
and frightening probably sums it up really.
He looked wild.
And his voice!
Boy could he shout!
And some of the things he said!
He certainly put
the Pharisees
in their place.
Anyone who dares to do that
gets my support every time.
There was something
hypnotic
about him too;
compelling.
You had to keep going back
no matter how
uncomfortable
he made you feel.
He always ended on the same note.
‘Repent,’ he shouted,
‘and be baptised.’

At first we all resisted.
It wasn’t for the likes of us.
But,
one by one,
my friends had given in.
So now I had them getting at me too.
But I was made
of sterner stuff.
I would go along
just to be sociable
but I wasn’t going
to be baptised.
No way.

And so it happened,
on this particular day,
that we were all there again
listening to John,
when suddenly
his face changed
and he fell silent.
Following his gaze
we all looked
as this other man
approached.
He had obviously come
to be baptised,
but, strangely
John seemed reluctant.

Anyway
he must have persuaded
John
because they went
into the river
together,
and the most amazing thing happened.
As this man
came up out of the water
the clouds parted;
the sky became bright,
dazzlingly bright,
and I heard a voice
saying,
‘You are My Son,
whom I love’.

I don’t know who else
heard it.
And I’m not going to admit
I did,
to anyone else,
but
I knew this man heard it too,
because of the look
on his face.


I can’t describe that voice
but I want to hear it again,
and again.
I want it to speak
to me,
like that;
to say words
like that,
to me…

I want
to be
baptised.


© Kathleen Wilks