1st Sunday after Christmas – Baptismal Service – Mark Winward
During this Christmas season, we continue to celebrate the new life of Christ, born to us in a manger. But today we are also celebrating new life in Christ in the baptism of Matthew Dabrowski. Christmas is not only about remembering something that happened long ago. It is about what God is still doing—bringing light out of darkness, life out of death, and hope into a broken world.
For some of you, this service may feel unfamiliar – and you may not know exactly what to expect. That has been true for centuries. There is a legendary story from the fifth century about King Aengus, who was baptized by St. Patrick. During the service, Patrick accidentally stabbed the king’s foot with his shepherd’s staff. Remarkably, the king said nothing. Afterward, Patrick begged for forgiveness and asked why the king had suffered in silence. The king replied, “I thought it was part of the ritual!”
Thankfully, baptism no longer involves that kind of pain—though I can’t promise the sermon will be entirely painless. But the story reminds us of something important: baptism has always been a significant moment in the life of the church, profoundly mysterious, and deeply meaningful.
Except in emergencies, baptism is celebrated in the presence of the gathered Church because we recognize baptism is not a private act. It is incorporation into the community of believers. And that’s not into a particular denomination, but into the one Body of Christ. As Paul writes, “There is one body and one Spirit… one Lord, one faith, one baptism.” Before we are Episcopalians or anything else, we are Christians—claimed by Christ, joined to him, and joined to one another.
That truth is proclaimed with particular force in today’s Gospel. In December of 1968, as the world reeled from war, protest, and fear, the crew of Apollo 8 orbited the moon. On Christmas Eve, they turned their camera back toward Earth, and humanity gasped as for the first time we watched our planet rise over the lunar horizon—small, fragile, and beautiful. As millions watched, just for a moment the world saw itself as one, and astronaut William Anders read: “In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth.”
John’s Gospel begins by delving in the mystery of the Creator and our common humanity.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Before time, before matter, before history, there was the Word—Logos—eternal, personal, divine. And then John tells us the heart of the Christian faith: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”
God did not remain distant. The Creator entered creation. The light that called the universe into being stepped into the darkness—not to condemn it, but to save it. This is why Christmas matters. And this is why baptism matters. Because God took on our humanity, becoming one of us and forever elevating humankind.
John is honest, though, about the world as it is. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness could not overcome it. As world failed to recognize its Creator, our alienation from God became a chronic condition of humanity. But John does not leave it there. He writes, “To all who received him… he gave power to become children of God.” Not by effort. Not by achievement. But by grace.
Grace is at the heart of baptism. God claims us by name and says, “You are my child.” Baptism then becomes a lifelong calling to live as one who belongs to Christ. And as that identity of belonging deepens in our hearts, we seek to live a life pleasing to God and loving our neighbor as ourselves – striving for justice and peace and respecting the dignity of all.
In a few moments, Matthew will profess his faith in Christ, and all of us will be reminded of our own baptismal promises: to renounce evil, to turn from sin, to trust in Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord, and to live that trust through prayer, service, justice, and love. Matthew will be baptized into the one, holy, catholic Church—the Body of Christ across all times and places—and, in due time, invited to affirm that faith within our Anglican tradition.
From this day forward, the Church recognizes that Matthew belongs at this table, is nourished by this bread and this cup, and shares fully in the life of Christ’s Body. For all who are baptized—regardless of denomination—the table is open. And for those who are not baptized, you are invited into worship, into prayer, into community, and come to embrace the grace God longs to give you.
So today, whether baptized or not, Episcopalian or not, I ask you to stand with Matthew. Renew your own baptismal promises. Receive again the good news that the Word became flesh, that light has overcome the darkness, and that God is still redeeming lives—calling us not only to believe, but to live into being children of the light.