8/17/25 - Sermon written and preached by Leigh Rachal @ FPC Abbeville

Baptism as New Life: Reclaiming Faith from the Twisting of Water into a Boundary

Exodus 14:21–31, Matthew 3:13–17, Romans 6:1–11

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There’s something about standing at the edge of water.

Whether it’s the sea, stretching wide before me, with waves crashing at your feet. 

Or a river, winding past me with quiet persistence. 

Something happens at the edge of water.

I stop.

I breathe.

It causes me to reflect

- to feel the weight of what came before

- and the pull of what might come next.

And it isn’t just big natural bodies of water either. 

Standing by a full tub of water, as I’m about to get in and clean the day off of me has the same effect.

Or even standing next to the baptismal font, tucked into a sanctuary - with water that is still and sacred.

Water, in scripture, is never just scenery.

It’s a threshold.

Sometimes, it’s a threat. 

Sometimes, a barrier. 

But again and again, water becomes the place where God acts

-       to deliver, to name, and to raise us up into something new.

In Exodus, the people of Israel stand on the shore, terrified.

Pharaoh’s army is behind them.

A wall of sea is before them.

There’s no way forward that doesn’t feel like drowning.

But God does the impossible:

God parts the waters, makes a path where there wasn’t one.

And the people walk through

- not around, not above, but through the water

-into freedom.

Once onto the other side, their identity is transformed.

No longer are they just runaway slaves, they are now God’s people - delivered, claimed, called.

The Water marked the moment when fear was replaced with freedom.

When the people learned that God could make a way even through the deep.

Generations later, Jesus steps into the Jordan River.

He doesn’t need to repent.

He doesn’t need to be cleansed.

But still, he goes into the water - in solidarity with us. 

And as he rises, the heavens break open.

The Spirit descends like a dove.

And a voice says: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

This is what baptism proclaims.

Not OUR goodness. Not OUR perfection.

But God’s love. God’s grace. God’s initiative.

And then Paul - who has seen first hand how grace can transform even the most hardened heart – his! - writes this:

“What then? Should we continue in sin in order that grace may abound?

By no means! How can we who died to sin go on living in it?”

Paul is talking about baptism here - but not as a gentle ritual we sometimes mistake it for….

He’s talking about baptism as a death and a resurrection.

“We have been buried with Christ by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead, we too might walk in newness of life.”

We’re not talking about earning salvation.

We’re talking about participating in Christ

- being united with him in death and in life.

“The old self was crucified… so that we might no longer be enslaved to sin.”

“So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.”

This is not metaphorical fluff.

This is a radical reorientation of identity.

Baptism says: We are no longer defined by our past.

We are no longer chained to our shame.

No longer a prisoner to fear, or hate, or hopelessness.

But we are alive - to God, in Christ.

         Claimed for abundant life….

Years ago, when I was in seminary, I had to complete an internship at a church as different from my own tradition as possible.

Since I’m part of what is often lovingly called the “frozen chosen,” the Presbyterian Church (USA), I signed up to intern at a large, non-denominational mega-church.

I was curious. I wanted to learn.

One day during their staff meeting, they began planning an upcoming baptism.

It was going to be the first baptism ever performed by one of their newest pastors, and the room lit up with advice.

Some of the advice was spiritual:

“pray ahead of time,” “make it a sacred moment.”

But a lot of it was practical:

“avoid white shirts, be careful not to slip in the baptistry, decide if you’re going barefoot or wearing water shoes.”

Then one seasoned pastor got very serious and said:

“Make sure you hold them under long enough that they think they’re going to drown.”

I laughed, thinking it was a joke.

But another pastor quickly jumped in to offer explanation and to show how serious they were about this. He said,

“No. No. This is true.

In baptism we die to Christ so we can live with Christ.

If they don’t feel like they died, or at least like they might have, then it isn’t as meaningful…..”

And all I could think in that moment was:

Thank God for the Presbyterians and their gentle sprinkling.

But still… something in what they said stuck with me.

Not the idea of fear or drowning,

but the truth that in baptism, something does die:

The grip of sin.

The lie that we are unworthy.

The chains of shame or self-hatred.

And what rises in its place is not our own perfection,

but Christ’s perfect love, offering us abundant life….

What rises is grace.

What rises is new life.

Baptism is a gift.

A sign of God’s grace poured out.

A threshold we cross not by effort or worthiness,

but by the movement of God’s love toward us.

But over time, even the most beautiful of signs can become misunderstood.

We may start to think of baptism as something WE achieve.

Or as something that separates us from others,

instead of connecting us at a deeper level.

In our tradition, we remember:

Baptism is God’s “yes” to us. 

It is not a reward for the faithful,

but a revelation of God’s eternal faithfulness.

It is not a mark of superiority,

but a sign of belonging—to God and to one another.

Some of us were baptized as infants,

carried to the font by the love of others.

Some came to the font later in life,

with questions and courage and conviction.

Some have not yet been baptized—

but even so, God’s love is already at work in your life.

The water is waiting… 

but grace does not wait to begin.

Baptism reminds us that God is the one who acts.

God is the one who claims us. 

God is the one who seals us with love

and delivers us into a life of purpose and joy.

The Book of Order says, “Baptism is the sign and seal of God’s grace and covenant in Christ.”

And every time I hear that phrase -“sign and seal”

- I think of that old Stevie Wonder song:

 “Signed, sealed, delivered… I’m yours.”

Of course, in the song, the one singing is the one who messed up.

They’re asking to be forgiven.

They’re making a promise.

But in baptism, it’s God who does the signing.

It is God who does the sealing.

It is God who delivers us, not because we got everything right, but because we are already God’s.

In a few moments, we’ll be invited to remember the gift of baptism.

If you have not been baptized - or if you do not remember your actual baptism, perhaps because you were an infant….

That’s okay.

This remembrance is not so much about a specific date and time of your particular baptism,

as it is about remembering and being thankful for the gift of baptism.

This is an invitation to wonder,

to listen,

and to know that you are already loved.

Baptism reminds us that our life is not our own.

Together, we belong to Christ.

We are signed with grace.

We are sealed by the Spirit.

We are delivered - not into safety, but into love and mission.

So may we always walk in newness of life.

May our life always be a sign that points to Christ. 

And may the world always see in us the mark of God’s mercy, hope, and love.

Thanks be to God for the gift of baptism.

Amen.