The Light that Calls Our Name
Excerpt of “The Light that Speaks Our Name” preached January 11, 2026
Psalm 29 | Matthew 3:14-17
“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated it from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning — the first day.” I think it’s safe to say we’ve heard the first five verses of Scripture before. There are times, however, I think we get so focused on the idea that the great accomplishment was that God spoke light into existence, “Let there be light,” and there was light, that we miss the fact that in the very beginning before God spoke — back when the earth was formless and empty, the waters were present. Not only were they present, the waters were where the Spirit of God was hovering and moving.
The waters are so foundational and significant to our faith not because they are the sign of change or completion, but the substance of a beginning. The waters are what move us into a new chapter and are a powerful force. It’s in the waters we experience the flood, setting the beginning of something new to unfold — not the result of completion, but the beginning of creation once more. It’s in the parting of the Red Sea that Moses leads the Israelites to pass through on dry ground. And the Israelites didn’t have it all figured out as they passed through, it was simply another starting place for their journey to begin. When Jesus is at the well with the woman from Samaria and he knows everything about her — remember that story, where she ends up leaving the jar there at the well with Jesus? The water was not a sign of her life well lived, but the beginning point of God creating something new within her. Water is often a sign of a new creation, not the completion of it all.
In Matthew, this is evident in Jesus’ baptism. Have you ever noticed that in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is not baptized how we are baptized? I’m not talking about whether he’s immersed, sprinkled, or something in between. I’m talking about the idea that Jesus is not baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit? To be honest, I’m not sure even if John had his theology and beliefs completely figured out by this point that he would even have a chance to do so. Because as soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. And at that very moment, heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven, who I could only imagine to be God the Father, said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”
And let me remind you that at this point, Jesus had not done anything. Nothing. He hadn’t healed the sick, he hadn’t performed miracles, he hadn’t preached from a boat, he hadn’t called James or John — not even Peter. Jesus hadn’t done anything. This wasn’t a moment of great accomplishment where the heavens open and the Spirit descends and the Father says, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” The waters are the place of a new beginning, a creation or commissioning in a way, for Jesus to start his ministry.
Each week I fill the font with water and I say, “Remember your baptism, and be thankful.” Have you ever noticed the context of when I do that? It follows our confession and is right before our Assurance of Pardon. And the thing we do immediately after the Assurance of Pardon — those words proclaimed, where we know that our completion is found through the forgiveness of Christ, we sing a refrain many of us have heard our entire lives: “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever.” It is difficult to see the glory of God without the water. It’s a visual reminder that we are made new again and again and again through Christ.
Perhaps that’s why baptism is one of our two sacraments of the Presbyterian faith. As we believe we are reformed and ever reforming, we understand that God continues to create because we are the body of Christ and the Spirit of God hovers over the water creating anew with every moment.
Through the waters of baptism, we are not only named — we are gathered. We are invited into the life of the church, the body of Christ, where Jesus is not simply an example to follow, but the head who holds us together. The church is not a collection of finished saints, but a community of new beginnings — people learning, over a lifetime, how to live from the grace they have already received.
That is why we return to the water. Not because God forgets who we are — but because we do. We remember that our lives are not held together by our certainty, our faithfulness, or our strength. They are held together by Christ.
