Baptism of Our Lord 2025

Section I — Orientation: Keeping Jesus at a Distance

The Scriptures speak about being Christian in a way that is often more concrete than we expect. But that is not how we usually treat faith.

We often treat faith in a way that keeps Jesus at a distance. We are comfortable acknowledging Him, agreeing with Him, even speaking warmly about Him—so long as He remains where we expect Him to be.

To be a Christian, we assume, is to identify with Jesus. To admire Him. To align ourselves with His teaching and His way of life. Faith, understood this way, becomes a matter of affinity—a closeness we acknowledge, a loyalty we claim.

And that kind of faith feels safe precisely because it preserves distance.

Jesus remains someone we relate ourselves to, not someone who presses in upon us. He stands before us as an example, beside us as a companion, or above us as an authority—but not yet with us in the places we would rather keep hidden.

Faith, treated this way, becomes something we stand alongside. Something we affirm from a comfortable remove. Something we manage rather than something that confronts us.

And Scripture does not describe faith that way.

Faith, in the Scriptures, is not a way of keeping Jesus near but not too near. It is not a posture that allows us to decide how close He may come. It is not a relationship we maintain from a safe distance.

That difference matters. And Matthew will not allow it to remain theoretical.

Section II — “Let It Be So Now” (Matthew 3:13–15)

Matthew does not introduce Jesus here as a teacher.

He does not introduce Him as a miracle-worker.

He reveals who Jesus is by showing where He goes.

Jesus comes from Galilee to the Jordan.

He does not remain at a distance.

He does not send instructions.

He does not wait for sinners to come closer to Him.

He goes to them.

He steps into the water.

He places Himself within a baptism meant for repentance.

In other words, Matthew begins not with what Jesus says or what Jesus does, but with where Jesus chooses to stand.

And John objects.

“I need to be baptized by You, and do You come to me?”

John recognizes what we are often tempted to avoid. This is not where Jesus belongs. This is the water meant for sinners. This is the place of confession, not authority. Nearness, here, is uncomfortable.

And John is right.

Which makes Jesus’ answer all the more striking.

“Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.”

Jesus does not deny the distance John is trying to preserve.

He refuses it.

Righteousness, as God intends it, will not be fulfilled by separation.

It will not be fulfilled by Jesus remaining above the problem.

It will not be fulfilled by keeping a safe distance from sin and sinners.

It will be fulfilled only if the Son of God steps down—into the place we would rather He avoid.

Here righteousness stops being an idea and becomes an action.

Jesus does not admire sinners from afar.

He does not sympathize with them while remaining untouched.

He does not identify with them in principle while keeping His distance in practice.

He insists on standing where they stand.

And He fulfills righteousness by entering the water.

By placing Himself under a baptism meant for repentance.

By occupying the place of those who have something to confess.

By refusing any version of salvation that keeps Him safely removed.

That is already more than John expected.

Section II½ — Diagnosis: Distance Without Repentance

That instinct to keep Jesus at a distance has consequences.

When faith is treated as nothing more than an affinity for Jesus—when He remains near, but not too near—repentance becomes unnecessary. Or at least optional.

Because a Christ who stays at a distance can forgive in theory without ever confronting in truth. Sin can be acknowledged abstractly, without ever being confessed personally. We can speak about forgiveness while carefully keeping the sinner—ourselves—out of the picture.

This is the temptation Bonhoeffer names so sharply: the desire to forgive the sin while leaving the sinner untouched.

We want grace without nearness.

Forgiveness without exposure.

Mercy without repentance.

And that works—so long as Jesus stays where we put Him.

At a distance, sin can be discussed without being named.

At a distance, guilt can be generalized without being owned.

At a distance, forgiveness becomes an idea rather than an event.

But the moment Jesus steps into the water, that arrangement collapses.

Because the water is not a place for vague admissions or theoretical guilt. It is the place where sinners confess what they have done and who they are. It is the place where excuses end and repentance begins.

And that is precisely why distance feels safer.

A Christ who remains above the water can be admired.

A Christ who stands at the edge can be agreed with.

But a Christ who steps into the water brings repentance with Him.

Which means the issue is not whether we believe in forgiveness.

The issue is whether we are willing to stand where forgiveness must be given.

That is what distance protects us from.

It protects us from having our sin named.

It protects us from having our defenses stripped away.

It protects us from repentance.

And so we prefer a Christ who forgives sins rather than sinners.

But that is not the Christ Matthew shows us.

Section III — The Father Speaks (Matthew 3:16–17)

Matthew does not leave us in the water.

When Jesus comes up from the Jordan, the heavens are opened. The Spirit of God descends like a dove and comes to rest upon Him. And a voice from heaven speaks.

“This is My beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”

Notice when this declaration is spoken.

It is not spoken after Jesus performs a miracle.

It is not spoken after He teaches a crowd.

It is not spoken after He proves His obedience by action.

It is spoken after He has stepped into the water.

After He has refused distance.

After He has taken His place among sinners.

After He has entered the place of repentance He does not need for Himself.

Before Jesus has done anything else publicly, the Father names Him.

“This is My beloved Son.”

This is not encouragement offered mid-task.

It is not approval earned through achievement.

It is identity bestowed before the work unfolds.

And yet, this declaration is not detached from what is to come.

The Father speaks knowing exactly where this Son is going.

The One who has stepped into the Jordan will step under the Law.

The One who has stood with sinners will be numbered among transgressors.

The One declared beloved here will be handed over, rejected, and crucified.

This is the Son with whom the Father is well pleased—not because the road will be easy, but because He will walk it all the way.

And so the voice from heaven does not pull Jesus back from the water.

It sends Him forward from it.

The Spirit descends, not to spare Him suffering, but to sustain Him in obedience.

The heavens open, not to remove Him from the world, but to mark Him for the path ahead.

Here, for the first time, distance truly disappears.

The Father does not remain silent.

The Son does not remain untouched.

The Spirit does not remain absent.

God Himself stands fully present at the place we would rather avoid.

And before repentance is demanded of anyone else, before judgment is announced, before the cross is in view, God speaks His verdict over His Son.

Beloved.

Pleased.

Sent.

Section IV — Fulfillment: The Cross Is Where Distance Finally Ends

The Jordan is not the end of this story.

It is the beginning of its direction.

Everything we have seen so far presses toward one unavoidable conclusion: if Jesus refuses distance here, He will refuse it all the way.

The Son who steps into the water will not step back out of the world’s guilt.

The One who stands with sinners at the Jordan will stand for them at the cross.

The Jordan reveals the logic of the cross.

The cross accomplishes what the Jordan reveals.

Jesus does not merely come near to human sin.

He does not simply acknowledge it, empathize with it, or speak forgiveness from a safe distance.

He takes it upon Himself.

At the cross, Jesus does not forgive sin in the abstract.

He bears it in the flesh.

At the cross, He does not stand alongside sinners as an example.

He stands in their place as their substitute.

This is where righteousness is finally fulfilled.

Not by moral progress.

Not by human sincerity.

Not by improved devotion.

But by the Son of God carrying sin, judgment, and death Himself.

The distance we work so hard to preserve is destroyed there.

God does not forgive sins by overlooking them.

He forgives them by condemning them in His Son.

And the One whom the Father called Beloved at the Jordan is the same One the Father does not spare at Golgotha.

Not because He ceased to be beloved.

But because He remained obedient.

Here, at the cross, the truth becomes unavoidable:

Jesus did not come simply to identify with sinners.

He came to die for them.

And only a Savior who refuses distance all the way to death can save.

Section V — Participation: Joined to Christ (Romans 6)

And now Paul gives us the words we need to say what this means for you.

“You were baptized into Christ Jesus.”

“You were baptized into His death.”

“You were buried with Him.”

“You will be raised with Him.”

Notice what Paul does not say.

He does not say that baptism is your declaration of loyalty.

He does not say that baptism is your expression of commitment.

He does not say that baptism is your way of identifying with Jesus.

He says you were joined to Him.

This is no longer affinity.

This is no longer distance.

This is no longer faith as something you manage.

This is union.

In baptism, you are placed where Christ has already gone.

You are joined to His death—so that your sin is no longer yours to carry.

You are joined to His burial—so that what condemned you is truly put away.

You are joined to His resurrection—so that death no longer has the final word over you.

This is why repentance can finally be honest.

Because forgiveness is no longer theoretical.

It has already happened.

This is why faith is no longer about keeping Jesus near but not too near.

Because in baptism, He has already come all the way to you.

He has stood where you stood.

He has borne what you could not bear.

And now He has bound you to Himself.

Faith, then, is not an affinity you maintain.

It is a life you have been given.

Section VI — Repentance and New Life: No More Distance

Because this is what repentance finally is.

Not cleaning yourself up before God.

Not proving sincerity.

Not managing appearances.

Repentance is letting go of the distance you have been keeping.

It is putting to death the old way of treating faith as something you control—

the old instinct to keep Jesus close, but not too close;

the old habit of speaking about forgiveness while avoiding confession.

Paul says it plainly: the old self was crucified with Christ.

Which means it is not meant to be improved.

It is meant to be put off.

Put off the sin you have been protecting.

Put off the excuses you have been hiding behind.

Put off the self that wants forgiveness without repentance and grace without nearness.

And in its place, take up what has already been given to you.

When Jesus stepped into the Jordan, the Father spoke over Him:

“This is My beloved Son.”

And because you have been baptized into Christ, that declaration does not stop with Him.

In Christ, it is spoken over you as well.

You are baptized into the Son whom the Father calls Beloved.

Which means you are declared a beloved child of God—not because of your repentance, not because of your faithfulness, but because you are joined to Him.

You have been baptized into His death.

You have been raised to walk in newness of life.

That new life is not something you invent.

It is not something you achieve.

It is not something you feel your way into.

It is the life of one over whom God has already spoken His verdict.

Because the distance has already been closed—by Christ Himself.

Conclusion — The Distance Is Gone

From Galilee to the Jordan.

From the Jordan to the cross.

From the cross to the empty tomb.

From the font to your life.

At every step, Jesus refuses distance.

He does not remain far off.

He does not forgive from a safe remove.

He does not love in theory.

He comes all the way to you.

The Father’s voice at the Jordan did not fade away.

It echoes wherever Christ is—and you have been placed in Him.

And so you do not live as someone merely associated with Jesus.

You do not live as someone who admires Him from afar.

You do not live as someone trying to maintain the relationship.

You live as one who has been baptized into Christ—

one over whom the Father now speaks the same verdict:

Beloved.

Pleased.

Mine.

And the One whom the Father called Beloved—

the One who stood in the water,

the One who hung on the cross,

the One who rose from the dead—

refuses distance still.

He is with you.

He is for you.

He will not let you go.

Amen.