In my reflection for Ash Wednesday I noted that Jesus sought baptism by John and the baptism was followed by the descent of the Holy Spirit on Jesus. To ask for baptism implies ones readiness to accept the word of the baptiser, to admit oneself a sinner, to do penance, and to accept willingly all that God sends, however difficult. Despite John's attempt to dissuade him, Jesus quietly takes his place in line with all the other people seeking baptism. He declines the opportunity to be excused and voluntarily receives the baptism of repentance that all humanity must submit to. This humble descent to the human level was immediately answered by an outpouring from above onto the one at prayer.

The barrier that separates us from the beatific presence of the omnipresent God in heaven was removed for a moment. Into the rapture of this manifestation, stream the words of parental love: "You are my Son, the Beloved; my favour rests on you."

The Spirit "drove" Jesus out into the wilderness and solitude far removed from those he knew and loved, but also from the crowds along the Jordan. Here there is no one but the
Father and himself. Forty days is the Biblical idiom used to express a long period of time. It is borrowed from one of the elementary rhythms of life.

Romano Guardini writes: 

Filled with the Spirit, Jesus goes into the wilderness, swept along by an immeasurable consciousness of mission and of strength. He fasts. What real fasting means – not the going without food imposed by necessity, but spontaneous self-denial – we may learn from the great masters of the spiritual life. Today doctors and educators again know a little more about it. At first only the lack of nourishment is felt; then, according to the strength and purity of the individual nature, the desire for food vanishes, not to return for several days. When the body receives no nourishment from without, it lives on its own substance; however, as soon as this self-calorification begins to attack the vital organs, a wild, elementary hunger is aroused, and life itself is threatened. Such was the hunger of Jesus in the wilderness. 

Simultaneously, another, a psychic process takes place: the body becomes more supple, the spirit freer. Everything seems to grow lighter, detached. The burden of gravity itself grows less perceptible. The limits of reality begin to withdraw; the field of the possible to widen as the spirit takes things in hand. The enlightened conscience registers with greater sensitivity and power, and the will becomes increasingly decisive. The protective mechanisms of human nature which shield man from the hidden, threatening realms of existence beneath, above, and beyond him begin to fall away. The soul stands stripped, open to all forces. Consciousness of spiritual power increases, and the danger of overstepping the set limits of human existence, of confusing its dignity and its possibilities, grows acute: danger of presumption and magic, general vertigo of the spirit. When a deeply religious person undergoes these processes his soul can become involved in crises of extreme gravity and danger.

It was thus that Jesus was subjected to temptations by the one who recognised in Jesus his greatest enemy. The first two temptations were rooted in pure duplicity riffing off the affirming words of parental love heard after Jesus' baptism – "If you are the Son of God ..." and then finally the temptation of the will to power. Each temptation was resisted by the same kenosis that Jesus displayed with his coming to John for baptism. He chose to live by every word that comes from the mouth of God, to not test the unfailing love of God, and to subject his will to God alone.

Jesus' agony in the Garden of Gethsemane parallels the outcome.

The narration of Jesus' baptism in the Jordan and his temptation in the wilderness goes to very heart of the sacred mystery of the relationship of the triune God to the incarnation of the Son for "the Word [Logos] was made flesh and lived among us." We can never penetrate it, and knowledge of this incapacity must dominate our every thought and statement concerning Jesus' life. We are able to begin to assimilate this mystery by resorting to anthropomorphic metaphors that remain only metaphors and are not the full reality.

Over 74 years have passed since my existence was immersed in the life of the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit at my baptism. In what ways does this indwelling divine life affect how live my life and nourish my relationship with God and others?