
At Jesus’ baptism, we find questions of identity, purpose and divine love. All that is wrapped up in a story that opens with people seeking clear answers and neat categories while wondering if John might be the Messiah.
But John pointed beyond himself to “one more powerful–one who will baptize not just with water, but with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matthew 3; Luke 3). John saw baptism as a growth experience toward transformation and refinement.
Consider the Great Awakening of the 18th century. Jonathan Edwards and others spoke of “divine fire,” not as judgment but as spiritual renewal. Or recall Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who spoke of the “fire of soul force” during the Civil Rights Movement, seeking a transformative power that changes hearts and systems.
John’s “fire” burns away what holds us back from our most authentic selves and from serving one another. When Jesus was baptized, the heavens opened, the Spirit descended like a dove, and a voice declared, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you, I am well pleased.”
God’s love and pleasure in Jesus preceded any ministry, miracle or achievement. Before Jesus had “done” anything, he was already beloved.
Likewise, our or our neighbor’s worth isn’t earned through correct belief or perfect behavior. We are “beloved” first. Our actions flow from this identity, not toward it.
Not having to prove our worth through productivity, success or conformity to narrow norms is liberating news. God’s love flows freely, without exclusion. Consider the radical witness of Rev. Vernon Johns, who preceded Dr. King at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church.
In the 1940s, Davis baptized Black and White converts in the same water, a testament to the fact that baptismal waters, as Paul tells us in Galatians, know no gender, race or social status.
Similarly, Archbishop Oscar Romero insisted baptismal waters made all Salvadorans equal in dignity, regardless of social class. This view, in part, would cost him his life. Divine love transcends artificial boundaries.
Christians are called to work for justice and inclusion, recognizing every person as bearing the Divine Image. And this invites us to claim our own “belovedness.”
Sadly, many religious traditions teach conditional love and use shame as a tool of control. Look at the historical practice of public penance in medieval churches or the more recent trauma of conversion therapy programs. These are just two examples of how religious institutions have sometimes distorted the unconditional nature of God’s love.
But the Bible declares: “You are beloved.” Full stop. No asterisks. No fine print.
It calls us to see the “belovedness” in others, transforming how we approach social justice, environmental stewardship and human dignity. We can’t claim God’s love for ourselves while denying it to others.
We are called to move from baptism into purposeful action, grounded in our core identity: before any action, achievement or belief, we are beloved. May that “belovedness” empower us to work for a world where everyone knows their worth, justice flows like water and love knows no bounds.