Amanda McMillen, “Please Validate Me”
It is very special that on this Sunday, the first Sunday after Epiphany, on which date our Gospel reading is always the baptism of Jesus, we get to celebrate a baptism here at the 9 o’clock service. We get to celebrate how God says to Julia this morning, “This is my daughter, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased” just as God said those words to Jesus on his big day.
These words of God the Father to Jesus at his baptism are words of ultimate validation - it’s what every child longs to hear from their earthly parents. Jesus’ identity is validated in that moment as the very Son of God, as well as his status as one who is deeply loved, with whom his Father is well pleased. Now which of us does not long for validation of both our identity and our belovedness?
Of course we do. It might feel like a weakness to admit it, but validation kind of means everything. Whether that be validation from our parents, that’s a biggie obviously, validation from our spouses, validation from our colleagues and bosses, from friends and those we admire, and then as our children get older, from our children too. We don’t necessarily need it from everyone, and in fact from people who don’t know us it can feel saccharine and cheap, but from a select few, it is critical. Lately, my 1.5 year old son Danny has been waking up every morning and the first words on his lips as I greet him are “Papa” and he’s fervently looking around me trying to find Brian and it’s a knife - through - my - heart. Brian tells me it’s because my presence is a given, which is a very nice thing to say, but still, would it hurt him to pretend to be interested in me in the mornings?
Being validated by those people in our lives that we seek validation from, means everything because validation leads to belonging. When our feelings, our actions, our thoughts, our experiences, are validated, when we receive approval from people that we respect, then we are granted that deeply human need to belong. In that way, seeking validation is a survival instinct - we must find belonging if we are to survive this cold world.
Of course, seeking validation can be a cause of great pain, too. To need approval from others can be an immense burden - countless self-help books will try to teach you how not to need approval and validation. There’s a scene from the iconic show the Office where Steve Carrel’s character Michael Scott says - “Do I need to be liked? Absolutely not. I like to be liked, I enjoy being liked, I have to be liked, but it’s not like this compulsive need to be liked… like my need to be praised.” Relatable anyone?
Currently, there’s a thread of parenting culture that is talking about how constant validation of our children can have negative consequences, experts say. Constant validation can make a child believe that the whole reason they do anything is for the reward of outward approval. In that way it can take away internal motivation and even confuse a child into not knowing what they even want or like to do on their own, when they don’t have constant validation.
The millennial generation (guilty) is known for seeking constant validation because parenting advice at that point in time encouraged parents to give excessive validation in order to build a strong sense of a child’s self worth. So the pendulum seems to be swinging the other way, now advising parents to be more spare in their verbal affirmations. (The lesson there, by the way, as an aside, is that no matter how well you think you’re parenting, it’s a good idea to start preparing yourself now for the idea that your child will probably still seek therapy in the future, okay?)
Validation is a hot topic in the tech world right now too, specifically in regards to AI. These artificial intelligence search engines that we now have at our fingertips are known for being incredibly validating of the user, no matter what nonsense we put into that search bar. No matter what wild idea you ask chatGPT, it will always begin its reply with the words - “that is a fantastic idea!” and what I hear is - “You’re an absolute genius, Amanda…I can’t believe you thought of that”. And the reason is that human evaluators rate AI responses, and people are more likely to give a positive response to AI responses that are overly validating and polite. So there is bias for responses that are more agreeable, which means that we believe that AI is more useful if it is also more affirming of what we already believe to be true - at the end of the day, we’re longing for a “yes man”. It’s always nice to feel respected and well-thought of but if you think about it, this AI agreeability can really quickly create an emperor’s new clothes situation, right? - where AI is really only there to tell you what you want to hear.
With both parenting and AI, constant, unwavering and uncritical validation doesn’t take into account our real sin and our real ability to be wrong. Which by the way, is a problem you have. One of my jobs is to tell you that. It’s a problem I have too, unfortunately, but don’t tell Danny.
There is a poignant moment in the gorgeous 2017 film Ladybird, when the main character, a rebellious teenager named Christine who goes by the nickname “Lady Bird” and her mom are shopping for dresses for prom. Lady Bird dons a new dress, looks at herself in the mirror, and admits in a vulnerable moment - “I love it” to which her mom replies - “is it too pink?” Lady Bird, feeling totally rejected, says “Why can’t you say I look nice? I still want you to think I look good…I just wish you liked me.” Her mom sighs deeply, “Of course I love you”. “But do you like me?” Lady Bird asks. Her mom pauses, takes a deep breath with a look of confusion on her face, and admits “I want you to be the very best version of yourself you can be.” And Lady Bird looks down and mumbles - “But what if this is the best version?”
True validation is the cliche that being known and loved is when it really matters. In my worst self, I am still loved, even liked. Our hearts long for such validation. Whoever it is we long for validation from, we need to be known in our worst selves and loved right there.
Back to the Scripture - when Jesus is baptized, which seemed a ludicrous thing for John the Baptist to do, baptize the Son of God instead of being baptized by him - when Jesus is baptized, the heavens part, a dove descends upon him and a voice from heaven says “This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” The words that our hearts long for. Validation of our identity and of our belovedness. And Jesus at this point, has not begun his work of ministry - we’re only at Matthew chapter 3 in this passage. Before Jesus has done anything in terms of miracles of healing and preaching the good news, he is validated for his very existence. Not for his work.
Usually when I get to baptize infants, I often say something in my homily about how much work it took to get the infant there that day (let alone on time, which never happens and is actually impossible anyways). Meanwhile, it takes the parents so much work to get that baby there. But the baby is just along for the ride. The baby gets fed, changed, dressed, usually they put up a fight and make it all very difficult, but in the end they are baptized, and it is because of no merit of their own. And this is why I love infant baptisms so much - that is true for all of us. What saves us, what validates us, is not our work. It’s not our virtue. It’s not our love for God and neighbor. What validates you as a human being is not about anything that you do or have done or will do - what saves you and what validates you is a person - Jesus the Savior of the world. Like the parent carrying their baby in a white gown up to the baptismal font, Jesus does all the work on your behalf.
As much as Jesus was validated at his baptism by the voice of God the Father telling him that he is his well-beloved child, he received no such validation on the cross. There was no opening of the heavens and dove alighting and voice coming down explaining everything and telling Jesus that it would all be okay. Ironically, the only validation he got was from a mock sign that said “Hail King of the Jews” (INRI on stained glass, btw - latin phrase translating “Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews”) - turns out that this was a true statement, though the people who put it up meant it as a joke. A joke of mock validation.
Jesus did not receive validation of his existence and his belovedness in that moment - instead he was mocked and then killed. The opposite, actually, of validation and approval. And what does he do with such blunt rejection? He validates the world. “It is finished,” he says. What is finished, exactly? Every longing you have ever had for validation, every single moment that you have longed to finally belong, every part of your mind that is fighting to be finally understood and every part of your heart that longs to just be loved, not at your best but at your very worst. Whichever relationships in your life where you long to really be known and to really be loved. And when you find that that validation comes from God, it might just allow you to hold those other relationships a bit more loosely, seeing them as the gift they are, rather than a means for validation. All your longing ends in Jesus. All the validation you long for is yours. It is finished.
Amen.
