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“Beloved”

Matthew 3:13-17

January 11, 2026

Rev. Rebecca DePoe

Our Scripture reading for this morning comes from the gospel of Matthew, Chapter 3, beginning in verse 13. Hear now the Word of God:

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John. 14 But John tried to deter him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”

15 Jesus replied, “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” Then John consented.

16 As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.17 And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”

This is the word of the Lord:

Thanks be to God.

Last Sunday night, the Pittsburgh Steelers did something that still feels a little unreal.

Week 18.

Sunday Night Football.

Division championship on the line.

Playoff berth on the line.

Everything riding on one game against the Baltimore Ravens.

It was a tight game the entire night. Lead changes, big plays, fourth quarter drama. And then, late in the game, with just 55 seconds left, Aaron Rodgers- back in the playoffs for the first time since 2021- throws the game-winning touchdown to Calvin Austin III.

Just enough time left in the game for one more twist.

The Ravens respond immediately.

One last drive.

One last chance to win the division, make the playoffs, keep their season alive.

And as time expires, it comes down to a single kick. A forty-four- yard field goal.

And. It. Misses.

Just like that, the Steelers are AFC North Champions.

Written off by many all season, they’re suddenly hosting a playoff game.

What struck me wasn’t just the drama of it all- though let’s be honest, that was something. What struck me was how deeply we understand moments like that.

Because we live in a world that loves to decide the story early- who’s in, who’s out, who belongs, and who doesn’t. We’re used to the verdict coming after the performance.

Which is why this morning’s Scripture feels so radical. What moments like that reveal isn’t just our love of drama. They reveal how deeply we are shaped by verdicts.

In sports, the verdict comes in the standings. In school, it comes in grades. At work, it comes in reviews and promotions. In life, it comes in subtle ways- in who gets chosen, who gets noticed, who gets left wondering if they’re enough.

We learn early on that belonging usually comes after performance. You prove yourself, then you earn your place.

Which is why this morning’s Scripture doesn’t just comfort us- it interrupts us.

Because when Jesus shows up at the Jordan River, before he preaches a sermon, before he heals anyone, before he proves a single thing, God speaks.

And the verdict comes first.

Beloved.

And that’s the moment we’re given in today’s Gospel.

When Jesus steps into the Jordan River, John is confused- maybe even uncomfortable.

John has been preaching repentance. Calling people to account. Preparing the way for someone greater than himself.

So when Jesus shows up asking John to baptize him, John pushes back.

I need to be baptized by you, and you come to me?

It doesn’t make sense to John. Jesus hasn’t failed. He hasn’t fallen short. He hasn’t done anything that needs fixing. So why does he need to publicly repent of his sins through the sacrament of baptism?

Jesus insists he needs to be baptized. Not because he needs the water, but because he chooses to stand where everyone else stands.

In the River.

In the line.

In the place where grace meets real life.

And it’s there- right there- that the heavens open, the Spirit descends, and God speaks before anything else happens:

Beloved

Jesus answers John with a strange phrase:

Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.

That doesn’t mean Jesus is checking a box or completing a requirement. In Matthew’s gospel, righteousness isn’t about moral perfection- it’s about right relationship. About aligning oneself with God’s way of being in the world.

So when Jesus steps into the water, he isn’t trying to become holy. He’s showing us what holiness looks like. It looks like being with instead of doing for. Like humility instead of exemption. Like choosing to stand with people, rather than above them.

And before Jesus teaches us how to live, before he shows us how to love, God tells us who he is.

Beloved.

Which means Jesus’ baptism isn’t just something we watch from a distance. It’s something we’re meant to recognize ourselves in.

Because most of us live as though the opposite were true. We act like we have to earn the words we long to hear. We tell ourselves we’ll rest once the work is done, we’ll feel secure once we’ve proven our worth, we’ll belong once we’ve done enough, given enough, become enough.

But baptism tells a different story.

In baptism, God speaks before we do anything right. Before we get it together. Before we have answers. Before we succeed- or fail. God says: You are mine.

That doesn’t mean the work doesn’t matter. It means the work no longer decides who we are.

For some of us, remembering our baptism feels easy. We’ve been part of the church for a long time. We can picture the font, the pastor’s hands, maybe even the dress or the suit we wore that day. The water connects us to a story that has carried us for years.

But for others, baptism feels distant- or complicated. Maybe you were baptized as a baby and no one ever talked about it again. Maybe you came to faith later in life. Maybe church has been a place of harm as much as healing. Maybe the word beloved sounds beautiful, but also a little suspicious- like something meant for other people, not for you.

And still, God speaks.

God speaks to the ones who are exhausted from trying to prove themselves. To the ones who feel behind in life, or stuck, or unsure what comes next. To the ones who carry regret, or grief, or questions that don’t have tidy answers.

Baptism is not a reward for having it all together.

It’s not a gold star for good behavior. It is a promise spoken over us precisely because we don’t always know who we are or where we belong. Which means remembering our baptism isn’t about going backward. It’s about grounding ourselves in something deeper than whatever label the world is handling us right now- successful or struggling, confident or afraid, winning or losing.

In the waters of baptism God refuses to let our worst moments- or our best ones- be the final word.

The final word is love.

Beloved.

The waters don’t erase our questions or our struggles. They name us in the middle of them. Beloved- not because we’ve earned it, but because God has chosen it.

When the Pittsburgh Steelers clinched the AFC North last Sunday night, something interesting happened almost immediately.

People didn’t just celebrate a win- they claimed an identity. Black and God everywhere. Text messages flying. Social media filling up with “We’re In!” and “AFC NORTH CHAMPS, BABY!”

That moment didn’t erase the hard season that came before it. It didn’t fix every weakness or answer every question about what comes next. But it named something true. It reminded people who they belonged to. It gave them a story to stand inside.

That’s what baptism does- but deeper.

Baptism doesn’t promise that life will be easy, or that we’ll always win. It doesn’t spare us from loss, struggle, or uncertainty. But it names us. It claims us. It tells us, again and again, who we are and where we belong- not just when things go well, but when the season has been hard, and the outcome is still unknown.

In baptism, God looks at us and says,

You are mine.

You belong here.

Beloved.

So as we prepare to leave this place today, we don’t leave with instructions to try harder. Or expectations to finally get it right.

We leave with a name.

Long before you are productive, before you are certain, before you are impressive or disappointing, God has already spoken over you.

Beloved.

That word is not fragile. It doesn’t disappear when the season is hard. It doesn’t evaporate when the future is unclear. It doesn’t depend on what happens next.

So remember your baptism.

Rember the water.

Remember the voice that still speaks-

Not demanding, not bargaining, not waiting for proof.

Just naming. Beloved.

And go from this place not striving to earn who you already are, but living from the freedom of having been claimed.

Amen.