January 11, 2026 - Baptism of the Lord Sunday: Whatever May Come

January 11, 2026  Baptism of the Lord Sunday
Ladue Chapel Presbyterian Church
Genesis 1:1-2 and Psalm 29
“Whatever May Come…”
Douglas T. King

Water.  It is an essential element in our lives.  It is also a powerful and evocative symbol.  We think of water for its gift of slaking our thirst and keeping us hydrated.  We think of water and its ability to cleanse.  But water can be a powerfully destructive force as well.  Hurricanes, tsunamis, and catastrophic rains can create immense damage.  Growing up on an island I was taught trust/fear the power of water.  

In the Bible water is known as a symbol for chaos.  In our brief reading from Genesis we hear of the earth as a formless void, in the original Hebrew it is onomatopoetic, tohu vavohu.  We hear of wind from God, God’s Spirit, sweeping over the waters, over the chaos that existed before God brings order to creation.  

Our creation myth paints a wonderfully ordered laying out of creation as each day the divine puts more pieces in place to create a world full of abundant blessings.  But the Biblical witness does not pretend as if chaos is ever fully eradicated.  Psalm 29, which I just read, is known as a psalm of enthronement.  It extols the power of God over all of creation.  We hear multiple examples of God’s glorious and unmatched strength as the voice of the Lord “breaks the cedars” and “shakes the wilderness.”  We hear of the voice of the Lord “over the waters,” and that “The Lord sits enthroned over the flood…”  But what we do not hear is that those waters and floods of chaos no longer exist.  

This psalm is often called “A Hymn to the God of the Storm.”  It acknowledges God’s power while still acknowledging the reality of storm and chaos in this world.  And for that I am grateful.  Storm and chaos do indeed still exist.  We read about it in the news every day.

Rabbi Sharon Brous writes the following, “Dr. Lucy Hone, a resiliency researcher, posits that an ever-present awareness of loss is the foundation of a strong heart…”  Rabbi Brous then goes on to speak against losing sight of this reality.  “Our cultural bias is toward denial and avoidance, as if ignoring the precariousness of life will safeguard us from the inescapable.  But this is both a dishonest and a dangerous way to live.  The reality is that some cocktail of loss, illness, isolation, rejection, and betrayal will crash into all of our lives at some point.”

Rabbi Brous goes on to write, “Acknowledging this, preparing our hearts for it, is the only way to live honestly.  When babies are born, we don’t bless them with a life free from heartache.  We bless them that they should live a life of purpose, surrounded by love, and that they should use their gifts to make the world more caring and more just.  And we bless them that when the pain comes, they don’t have to withstand it alone. (Brous, p. 101)

The Jewish blessing of a baby is not exactly what our Christian baptism is, but we do share a similar perspective.  When we baptize babies, when we place the sign of the cross upon their foreheads with water, we make no promises that they are being inoculated from the challenges of this life.  What we do promise is that on each and every step of this journey, we are following in the steps of one who was baptized before us, Jesus Christ.  And in following in Christ’s footsteps we are assured that God’s Spirit is by our side wherever life may take us.  We are assured we are beloved children of God.  We are assured of our ultimate destination redeemed, restored, and made whole in the embrace of the divine.  Whatever may come we are baptized and beloved.

There is a reason our new baptismal font will have such a large and visible bowl.  We want the water to be seen, for its symbolic power to quench our spiritual thirst, to cleanse us and to make us new.  But also for the biblical image of the chaos that it represents to be seen.  We are reminded that life can be difficult and unpredictable and filled with more than its share of storms.  

However, all of that water, all of the chaos is surrounded by the bowl, is surrounded by God’s loving embrace.  Whatever can possibly happen in any of our lives, there is not a single circumstance that occurs beyond God’s care.  In the moment of the storm it can be difficult to see anything beyond the storm. But when we remember our baptism; when we remember we are never beyond God’s care; when we remember there is nothing that will deter us from our destination in God’s embrace, we can lay hold to the old turn of phrase “tempest in a teapot.”  The waters of chaos are powerful but not nearly as powerful as our God.  When we remember our baptism we have the opportunity to have a wide-angle lens view of our lives.  Regardless of what we may confront today, we are promised that we continue our journey, in Jesus Christ’s footsteps, home to God. Whatever may come we are baptized and beloved.

Following particularly contentious moments, one of my predecessors at a former church was fond of saying, “A hundred years from now we will all be dead and none of this will matter.”  Consider it dark clergy humor after a rough day when the smallest of issues become immense kerfuffles.  My gosh, churches are good at that.  And, if you are curious, there is no humor darker than dark clergy humor.  In moments of brighter spirits perhaps he might have said, bathed in God’s grace, all else is of little consequence.  Whatever may come, we are baptized and beloved.

We wanted our new baptismal font to be large and prominent enough that whenever we entered the sanctuary our eyes would be drawn to it.  Seeing it, will be reminded of the promise we have received.  Seeing it, we will be reminded of the sign of the cross placed upon our foreheads.  Seeing it, we will be reminded of being claimed as God’s own. Seeing it, we will be reminded there is no storm that can enter our lives that is more powerful than God’s love for us. Whatever may come, we are baptized and beloved.

When my friend Ted was dropping his oldest daughter, Shelby, off at Vassar for her freshman year there was the usual level of anxiety.  How would she do living on her own for the first time?  How would she manage all of life’s ups and downs without Mom and Dad by her side?  

As Ted and his wife were very reluctantly pulling away in their car, Ted took one last longing look in his rearview mirror, hoping to catch just one more glimpse of his baby girl, now a young woman.  He saw Shelby standing there, watching them slowly drive away.  Shelby and Ted locked eyes.  And Shelby reached up with a finger and made the sign of the cross on her forehead.  She was reminding Ted, and perhaps herself, that all would be well. Whatever may come, she was baptized and beloved.

When that baptismal bowl of ours finally gets here, etched in the bottom of it will be words we can read through those waters of chaos, “you are beloved.”  

Whatever may come, you are baptized and beloved.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.
         
Brous, Sharon, the amen effect, Avery, New York, 2024.