1 Epiphany
The Baptism of Our Lord
January 11, 2026
Isaiah 42.1-9; Matthew 3.13-17
+Well, this past week was one of thoseweeks in which many of us thought: everything we feared is coming true.
It was an ugly week.
It was a violent week.
Renee Nichole Good’s death has hit allof us hard.
Well, all of us who care.
She is one of us.
We see ourselves in her.
This poet, mother, spouse.
This person who, like we try to do,stood up against a posse of deputized gang members.
And she paid the price for it.
Remember all those times I said I hopenone of us become martyrs?
Well, that reality hit close to homefor all of us with her murder.
It is important to remember what martyractually means.
It means witness.
A witness to the truth.
A witness to what is right.
A witness against the forces ofdarkness that seem to prevail in our nation right now.
And the fact that so much of this isbeing perpetrated by so-called Christians is a double gut-punch for us who arestriving to follow Jesus and do what we feel is our baptismal call in thisworld.
All of this is important to remember onthis Sunday in which we commemorate the baptism of Jesus in the river Jordan.
It is important for us to remember thatwhen, in a few moments, we remember and renew our baptismal vows.
It is important to remember that whenwe are sprinkled with holy water in remembrance of the water of our ownbaptisms.
On Facebook yesterday, a Facebookfriend of mine posted this:
JESUS DID NOT ENTER THE RIVER JORDAN SOYOU COULD USE HIS NAME TO COMMIT ATROCITIES.
Let’s repeat that again:
JESUS DID NOT ENTER THE RIVER JORDAN SOYOU COULD USE HIS NAME TO COMMIT ATROCITIES.
Our job as baptized followers of Jesusis not to commit—or condone—atrocities.
Our job is what:
To strive for justice and peace and torespect the worth and dignity of every person.
Well, let me tell you:
I am struggling to respect the worthand dignity of some people this morning.
But that’s our challenge.
And that’s what we must do.
Because if we don’t, we become THEM.
And that is not an option for us.
Our baptism is not, as you have heard me say a million times, some sweetlittle christening event for us as Christians.
It is not a quaint little service ofdedication we do.
For us Episcopalians, it a radicalevent in our lives as Christians.
Just as the Eucharist is a trulyradical event in our lives, over and over again.
Baptism and the Eucharist are the eventsfrom which everything we do and believe flows.
They are the ground of being for our radicalbeliefs, for our activism and our standing up and speaking out.
In baptism, we are marked as Christ’sown.
For ever.
It is a bond that can never be broken.
We can try to break it as we please.
We can struggle under that bond.
We can squirm and resist it.
We can try to escape it.
But the simple fact is this: we can’t.
For ever is for ever.
And knowing that is not cause for us tosimply sit back and bask in the glow of that knowledge.
To know that—to acknowledge that—is to thengo out in the world and live out that commitment.
In the waters of our baptism, God spoketo us the words God spoke to Jesus in today’s Gospel reading.
In those waters, the words we heard inour reading from Isaiah were affirmed in us as well.
Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen, in whom my souldelights;
Those words are our words.
Those words were spoken to us by our Godin those waters.
In those waters, we were all made equalto each other.
In those waters, the same water washedall of us—no matter who are.
In those waters, there are no classdistinctions, no hatred, or discrimination or homophobia or sexism or war orviolence.
In those waters, we are all equal toone another and we are all equally loved.
In a few moments, we will stand andrenew the vows we made at baptism.
When we are done, I will sprinkle youwith water.
The sprinkling of water, like all oursigns and actions that we do in this church, is not some strange practice a fewof us High Church-minded people do.
That water that comes to us thismorning is a stark reminder of those waters in which we were washed atBaptism—those waters that made us who we are, those waters in which we allstand on equal ground, with no distinctions between us.
Here at St. Stephen’s, all of ourministry—every time we seek to serve Christ and further the Kingdom of God inour midst—is a continuation of the celebration of baptism.
Sometimes we lose sight of that.
Sometimes we forget what it is thatmotivates us and charges us to do that wonderful work.
Sometimes we forget that our ministryas baptized people is a ministry to stand up and speak out against injustice.
Our ministry is to echo those wordsfrom Isaiah God spoke to us at the beginning of our ministries:
I have put my spirit upon [you];
[you] will bring forth justiceto the nations.
[You] will faithfully bringforth justice.
[You] will not grow faint or be crushed
until [you have] establishedjustice in the earth;
Those words speak to us anew thismorning.
I know how frustrating it is right now.
I know we ae feeling faint.
I know we are feeling crushed.
But now is not the time.
It is time for us to bring forthjustice, certainly to our nation.
It is time for us to establish justicein our world in which justice needs to be established.
Today, let us be renewed in our call tojustice.
Today, on this first Sunday inEpiphany, it is time to stand up and speak our and to rail against the forcesof darkness in our world.
When we do, it is then that we live outour baptism.
It is then that we truly live ourbaptismal life.
Let us be emboldened by our baptism.
Let us truly live our faith in a God ofjustice by speaking out and pushing back.
Let us boldly live out our baptismal covenantin all that we do as Christians in seeking out, speaking out and doing all wecan in love and compassion and justice.
JESUS DID NOT ENTER THE RIVER JORDAN SOYOU COULD USE HIS NAME TO COMMIT ATROCITIES.
Jesus entered those waters to show usthe way forward.
Forward into a world in which justicewill prevail,
That is what we are called to do.
Now.
And always.
Just as I was leaving for church thismorning, Annette Morrow sent me this:
Thisis from Matt Moberg, Chaplain for the Minnesota Timberwolves:
Ifyou’re a church posting
prayersfor peace and unity today
whilemy city bleeds in the street,
missme with that softness you only wear when it costs you nothing.
Don’tdress avoidance up as holiness.
Don’tcall silence “peacemaking.”
Don’tlight a candle and think it substitutes for showing up.
Tonightan ICE agent took a photo of me next to my car, looked me in the eye and toldme, “We’ll be seeing you soon.”
Notmetaphor.
Nothyperbole.
Athreat dressed up in a badge and a paycheck.
Peaceisn’t what you ask for
whenthe boot is already on someone’s neck.
Peaceis what the powerful ask for
whenthey don’t want to be interrupted.
Unityisn’t neutral.
Unitythat refuses to name violence
isjust loyalty to the ones holding the weapons.
Stopusing scripture like chloroform.
Stopcalling your fear “wisdom.”
Stoppretending Jesus was crucified
becausehe preached good vibes and personal growth.
Youdon’t get to quote scripture like a lullaby
whileinjustice stays wide awake.
Youdon’t get to ask God to “heal the land”
ifyou won’t even look at the wound.
Thereis a kind of peace that only exists
becauseit refuses to tell the truth.
Thatpeace is a lie.
Andlies don’t grow anything worth saving.
Thescriptures you love weren’t written to keep things calm. They were written toset things right.
Andsometimes the most faithful thing you can do
isstop praying around the pain and start standing inside it.
Ifthat makes you uncomfortable—good.
Growthalways is.
Amen.


