Jesus’ birth, the visit of the Magi, and His baptism mark moments of revelation, unveiling facets of Jesus’ identity as God. Initially celebrated as a single feast, these observances eventually diverged. Christmas remains universal, albeit celebrated on different dates, and its season always concludes on the 12th day with the arrival of the wise men in the West (Epiphany) or the baptism of Jesus for the Orthodox (Theophany). On January 19, Greeks will pour wine into the sea, and Russians will brave icy waters for polar dipping. Anglicans celebrate it all, placing Theophany on the Sunday after Epiphany and including a baptism in the liturgy whenever there are candidates. Today, I am delighted that Edward, who played the role of baby Jesus in our Christmas pageants just weeks ago, will be baptized. This connection is a powerful reminder that in baptism, Jesus’ story becomes intertwined with ours.

Baptism is both an initiation and a revelation—a human act that affirms God’s intention for us. As you witness the sacrament, consider the symbols it employs: water, oil, and light. What roles do they play in the rite? We know their significance in our daily lives. Water sustains life—not only hydrating us but also forming the majority of our bodies and filling the womb. Oil heals and renews. Light cleanses, illuminates, creates clarity, and awakens. Magical? Perhaps! Scientists still do not fully understand all facets of nature, especially light. Yet we often fail to notice these gifts, just as we take God’s presence and our connection with loved ones for granted. The ancients, however, recognized the uniqueness of light and water, imagining them as the very first elements created (e.g., Genesis 1). In Psalm 29, “God spoke over the water,” suggesting that creation was, from the start, an act of blessing.

Just as ancient stories rekindle a sense of mystery and gratitude for creation, life, and love, so do our rites. Baptisms employ ordinary elements and objects (e.g., our wooden font, ewer, shell, etc.) passed down through generations, to connect us to a reality far greater than ourselves. Yet baptism is more than a sign of our participation in “something big.” It is also a sign of God’s participation in “something small”—the particularity of each human life.

According to tradition, Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan took place where the Israelites crossed into the land God had promised them. The river parted for them as the Red Sea once had, becoming a gateway to life with God. It was no coincidence that John the Baptist chose this spot to perform his baptisms. Long before Christianity, Jewish rituals required washing with water to enter the Temple—the place where God dwelled. So when Jesus stepped into those muddy waters, already saturated with the confessions of others, He symbolically joined humanity in its striving for closeness with God. This narrative parallels His birth, showing that God willingly enters where we live. His presence sanctifies all the rivers of our lives—those that flow through landscapes and those that fill the womb, those that are murky and those that are stormy… yet, all essential to life. This is Isaiah’s promise: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you” (Isaiah 43:2)—a reminder that God lives right where we do.

For me, baptism is less about cleansing and more about God’s presence. Someone recently shared that their grandchild once called baptism a “bath-tism.” What a delightful image! Growing up, and even now in my family life, baths hold a special place. (We probably need a larger hot water tank!) Washing off dirt is the least important aspect of taking a bath. Far more meaningful are the warmth and comfort, relaxation and unwinding, soap bubbles and rubber duckies, and the way baths anchor daily routines. For some families, baths provide rare moments for parents to connect with their toddlers after a busy day when others may have cared for them, fostering that special closeness. Likewise, Edward already looks pretty clean to me today—both literally and metaphorically! But today, we give him a “bath-tism” to remind us all of God’s closeness in our lives—a closeness that begins well before our birth and extends throughout eternity.

This is why baptism is neither mechanistic nor magical. It is primarily a covenant: God promises to be with us in the waters of life, and we promise to seek His presence, to be truly present for one another, and to help others do the same. Yes, we will make mistakes that sacraments cannot prevent, and neither God nor parents will always say, “With you I am well-pleased.” Like Jesus’ baptism, which did not change His nature but only revealed its fullness, our baptism does not alter who we are, but it does unveil who we are meant to become. As we celebrate Edward’s baptism today, let us remember our own and be reassured of God’s enduring presence. Amen.

Questions to Consider

When my eldest daughter was six years old, and about to witness her
little sister’s baptism, we had the following exchange. I asked,

‘Are you excited about A’s baptism?’
‘…Um… yeah… why?’
‘Well, why do we baptize people?’
‘Because they are part of God.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘God knows them very, very well, and says, “You are the best, best, best!!”‘

Do you think my daughter had the right intuition? What goes through
your mind when you witness baptism? What is it that makes it exciting
for you?