And if we aren’t careful, we stop there. Baptism becomes our personal insurance, a moment between "me and my God," rather than the instant that changes and shapes our whole life. The water of the Jordan was what was known as “living water,” meaning it moved as opposed to being stagnant or still. It flows. It connects the mountaintop to the sea.
We are called to use fresh water, lots of it, and to pour it generously when we baptize to recall this living and moving water. The act and the call of baptism is never just about an "I"; it is the radical, difficult, and beautiful transition into a "we."
In our liturgies, we tend to use both singular and plural possessives interchangeably. In the creed, we say, “I believe in,” but we say it together and we mean it together. Even if we pray the Lord’s Prayer alone, we speak, “Our Father,” because we are praying in concert with all people, across time and space, who use those words to call upon the Divine.
We sing, “This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long,” when we know that we share the story of the mercy of God and the saving hope of Jesus with an uncountable number of people in the world today and throughout history. We sing, “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, early in the morning our song shall rise to thee,” even when we sing alone.
Since we use the words and the concepts interchangeably, maybe it is not that important to emphasize that our baptisms make us a “we.” After all, it seems to be a thing we understand. Understanding only becomes evident, though, when we are living as baptized people, as the body of Christ, in the mission field of the world.
In the gospels, Jesus doesn’t just show up to the river alone for a private ceremony. He is standing in the mud with the tax collectors, the soldiers, the seekers, and the skeptics. Even when John, recognizing who Jesus is, would have refused, Jesus insists—the act of righteousness, or making things right, means he is where the people are and he does what the people do.
To be baptized "into Christ" is to be baptized into his body. And a body doesn’t function as a collection of isolated organs competing for resources. A body is the ultimate "we." When the hand is cold, the heart pumps harder. When the feet are tired, the rest of the frame leans in. Even when a limb is amputated, the rest of the body remembers, even as it compensates for what is lost.
The shift from "I" to "we" is where justice begins. In a world that screams at us to "get yours," to "protect your own," and to view our success as a solo achievement, what we believe and teach about baptism is counter-cultural. The worst parts of history have happened when people divided into “us versus them.” Horrors happen when people, including and especially Christian people, have lost any sense of “we” with our neighbors who are also children of God.
If we are one body in Christ, then a "justice issue" isn't something that happens "over there" to "those people." It is a wound on our own skin; it is a wound to the body of Christ. In living as a "we," the question is no longer "How does this affect me?" The question becomes, "How does this affect us? The most vulnerable among us? The aching among us? The fearful and pushed aside among us?"
Baptismal justice says: I cannot be "well" if you are thirsty. Baptismal justice says: The God who claims me as a child also claims you. Baptismal justice says: The water that touched my forehead is the same water that quenches thirst, brings health, shapes communities, and is needed by all.
It is true that right after being baptized, the Spirit sent Jesus into the wilderness. Even there, though, he wasn’t alone. There were wild animals, angels, the Spirit, and the tempter. Even in our silent time, there is no "I"—there remains a “we” with the God who does not abandon us.
Our baptismal vows call us to a life that imitates Christ. We promise, in response to God’s grace, both to the individual acts of studying scripture and prayer, together with the communal acts of being at the Table together and supporting one another. We commit, again in response to God’s grace, to the mission work of being the body of Christ, pursuing divine justice and peace in the world.
Our baptisms are critical, memorable moments demonstrating how we belong to God. Part of the reason we also teach that baptism is a public act, not a private one, is because God has made us to belong to each other. We are the body of Christ. We are the ones called and equipped by God. We are the "we" that God is using to mend the world.
The waters of baptism do not dry up. They remain living water. They soak in and yet remain a flood that presses us forward, beyond any constraining banks we might try to construct. There is no “I” in baptism. Well, I guess technically there is, but you know exactly what I mean.
We are washed together. We are fed together. We are sent together. Not for some “them” or against some “they,” but for the fullness of the “we” that is God’s whole beloved creation. This is the day that the Lord has made. This is the way that the Lord has made. These are the Lord’s waters in which we wade. Let us rejoice and be glad in it and go forth to live in response to the grace we have received.
Amen.
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