“The Baptism of Jesus – It Continues in Us”

We live sensing the seasons with our eyes and our bodies. Through the temperature of the morning air, the time the sun sets, the texture of the wind, the colour of the trees—we come to realise, ‘ah, the season is changing.’ Of course, there is climate change, and Victoria’s weather is typically unpredictable. And yet, we still live by the seasons. Our bodies know first, and our hearts respond naturally.

The church also has seasons. We walk through them together with the lectionary: Advent — waiting. Christmas — birth. Epiphany — light. Lent — returning. Easter — new life. Pentecost — breath, the season of the Spirit.

These are not simply dates on a calendar. They are the rhythm of the story we live inside. And today, we are walking in the season of Epiphany. Epiphany is the season when God is revealed among us; when light appears in the darkness and when that light begins to move from the manger into the life of the world. Today is the first Sunday following Epiphany, and we reflect on Jesus’ baptism.

Baptism is not simply a once and done moment that we receive and forget about.   It is a depth we continue to discover throughout our lives. Today, I hope we can take a moment to pause and remember what our baptism really means. Let us start by focusing on Jesus’ baptism. When Jesus came up from the water of the Jordan River, dripping wet, the heavens were torn open.

Not cracked open gently, not eased open politely, but ripped apart. Matthew says the heavens were opened, but Mark uses a stronger word. This is the same word that is used later when the temple curtain is torn in two after Jesus’ crucifixion. Something decisive happens here.

And what comes through that torn-open sky? Not thunder, not lightning, not judgement, but a dove. And a voice that doesn’t shout or give orders but speaks what every human being longs to hear: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Jesus hasn’t done anything yet. He hasn’t healed anyone, taught anyone, or performed any miracles. He’s just standing there in the Jordan, with water still streaming down his face, and God declares his belovedness. Being before doing. Beloved before accomplishment.

And this is the baptism we share. When we are baptised into Christ, we step into this same moment: the moment of belovedness declared, the moment heaven opens, and the moment the Spirit comes. What happens in baptism? Something so deep that we spend our whole lives learning how to live into it. In baptism, we are grafted into Christ’s body—not as observers, but as members, as participants. We are filled with the Holy Spirit. We join Christ’s own life, death and resurrection. We step into a new way of being human together, a way marked by the love and grace of Christ.

Baptism happens once and it stays with us for a lifetime. One baptism, one belovedness—no expiry date, no need to renew. The word from heaven—”This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased”—spoken at Jesus’ baptism, is also proclaimed over us when we are baptised into Christ. No matter what situations we face after baptism, no matter what mistakes we have made, these words spoken over us, ‘my beloved son, my beloved daughter’, never disappear. They are written into our very being.

At our baptism, we make a vow to commit ourselves to the way of Jesus Christ for our whole life long. We reject all that is unjust, hurtful, selfish, violent and false. We put our trust in Jesus Christ. This identity, this calling, this new way of being—they are imprinted on our bodies, our lives, our very souls. As baptised people, we do not stand above the gospel. We stand within it, and from that place, we allow the gospel to speak into our lives, not with accusation, but with truth.

In Acts, Peter stands and tells the story of Jesus, and he begins with his baptism. He remembers how it all started with John’s baptism, with water, with obedience, with Jesus stepping into the river. And then he says something simple and bold: God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power. And what did Jesus do with that power? Not to impress, not to dominate, but to give life.

Peter remembers how Jesus went about doing good. Not building a reputation but healing the broken. Not seeking recognition, but restoring the oppressed. This is the Jesus Peter proclaims. Not a distant Christ, but a walking, healing, loving presence. Peter tells the hardest part of the story. They put him to death. The one who did good. The one who healed. The one who loved. But Peter does not stop there.

He says, “But God raised him.” Not as an idea. Not as a symbol. But as a living presence. Peter says something very personal: “We ate and drank with him.” And now Peter stands there and says, “We are witnesses.” Not because we are perfect. Not because we are brave. But because we were drawn into this life.

And this is where baptism comes back to us. Because Peter is not speaking with a different Spirit. He is not standing with a different power. He is not carrying a different calling. He is living inside the same baptism story. The baptism of Jesus did not end in the Jordan. It continued in Peter. And now, it continues in us. Isaiah spoke of one who would not grow faint, who would not be crushed, who would establish justice in the earth. This is the baptism we are called to share. Not a calling to be perfect. But a calling to keep going. To keep loving. To keep choosing what is right.

And we don’t do this alone. We do it as St Margaret’s, welcoming the stranger who walks through our doors, looking after one another, speaking when silence would be easier, sharing what we have, refusing to give up when change feels slow. This often looks ordinary. But it is not ordinary. It is the Spirit at work. We are not heroes. We are the baptised. And the same Spirit that filled Jesus, the same power that raised him, is at work in us.

Today, we remember our baptism. In a moment, you are invited to come forward, to touch the water, to trace the cross on your forehead, and to remember: You are beloved. You belong to Christ. And this life continues in you and through you. Amen.