What’s in a name? – Sermon for the Baptism of Our Lord on the occasion of a baptism

Let’s review—sin. Most of us think of sin as actions or inactions—things we do or don’t do—that are bad or evil. Stealing. Lying. Breaking a rule. That’s not wrong. But it’s not enough. Sin is weak when we see it like that. It lets us pat ourselves on the back. “Well, I haven’t killed anyone. I haven’t committed adultery.” But Jesus didn’t come from heaven just to wipe our slates clean of some bad deeds or mean words. Sin is much graver. It’s separation. Alienation. Estrangement. Rebellion. Sin is everything and anything that breaks or undoes or thwarts what God has made and called good—including you. It’s the sickness that eats at creation. Sin is what opposes God’s work, his will, and his Word. It doesn’t matter whether it comes in quiet apathy or loud defiance—it’s deadly all the same.  

Jesus didn’t come to earth just to right our wrongs or erase our record. He came to recreate what was broken. To restore what we’ve lost. To breathe life back into what was dead in us. Forgiveness isn’t just wiping the slate clean. It’s restoration. Rehabilitation. Reconciliation. Redemption. Jesus, God in flesh, entered our shattered world to heal it. To bring us—all of us—back to our maker’s vision for us. To undo what sin has undone in us, in you. And he calls us, moment by moment, to live in the reality of that restoration. That’s the work of God in Christ. That’s forgiveness. That’s the gospel. That’s how forgiveness of sins matters today…

Let us pray. May the words of my mouth and meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

What’s in a name? A name’s more than just a label. It carries meaning, history, and even destiny. When parents pick a name for their child, it’s never random. It’s about more than how the name sounds—it’s about what it stands for. A name shapes the person who bears it, pointing to their identity, their purpose, and the life they’re meant to live.

I’ve thought about this myself—if ever a child should be so unfortunate to be mine. For a son, I’ve always liked the name Alexander Melanchthon Spigelmyer. Sorry, Joe, Alex beat you out again—although Joseph is a strong name. It’s likely tied to God’s own unspeakable name, the one he revealed to Moses at Horeb when he said, “I am who I am and I will be who I will be.” That name ties us to the promise God made to Abraham—to make him the father of many nations. Still, “Alexander,” Greek for “defender of humanity,” stands out. It’s a sturdy name, one that reminds us of our calling to care for creation and each other. It points to the strength God gives us to nurture and tend what’s been entrusted to us. And “Melanchthon”—well, Philip Melanchthon stood as a steady voice beside Martin Luther. Where Luther burned fast and fierce in his theological battles, Melanchthon balanced him, bringing calm and grace.

For a daughter, I’ve considered Anastasia Katherine Spigelmyer. “Anastasia” is beautiful. It means “resurrection” in Greek, pointing to hope, renewal, and life in Jesus. “Katherine” honors Katherine von Bora, Luther’s wife. She was remarkable, a steadying hand who tempered Luther’s fire. Like Melanchthon, she brought balance, making their shared work stronger.

Names like these aren’t just labels. They tell a story. They reach for something bigger than the person who carries them. They hold values we treasure and hopes for the life that child will lead.

In baptism, God names us. He calls us by name and claims us as his own, his own children. Today, Isaiah tells us, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.” In baptism, God doesn’t just name us—he Christens us. He marks us with the name of Jesus. That name reshapes who we are and what we’re called to be. It’s a name that redefines our lives—not just for our sake, but for the sake of others.

What’s in a name? When God names us, it’s not just a title. It’s a new identity. It’s a new calling. In baptism, we’re not only redeemed for our own sake but set apart to reflect God’s glory in Jesus. St. Paul reminds us today that through baptism we’re united with Jesus in his death and resurrection. To be baptized is to die to sin and live to God. This new life takes shape in how we respond to this promise.

And yet, we confess that by our own understanding or strength, we cannot believe in our Lord Jesus Christ. It’s the Holy Spirit who calls us through God’s promise, who enlightens us with her many graces, and who keeps us in harmony with each other and with God. This call isn’t a one-time event. It’s constant—daily, hourly, minute by minute, moment by moment. It invites us to live the life God gives us in Christ.

The Spirit calls us to live with wisdom, to see the world through the eyes of Jesus. To die to sin and live to God in wisdom means breaking free from the chains of selfishness. Sin blinds us to truth. It tricks us into chasing what feeds our desires in the moment. But in Jesus, we see clearly. We look at the world through his eyes—eyes that see not just what is, but what could be. Jesus’ wisdom calls us to love and serve others, to act justly, and to seek good beyond our own gain. When we live to God, we stop falling for the world’s empty promises. We wake up to the deeper truths of Christ’s wisdom and choose what’s right, even when it’s hard.

The Spirit calls us to act with justice, to work for the good of others and their flourishing. To die to sin and live to God in justice means we can’t turn away from others’ suffering. We can’t keep protecting our comfort or position while others struggle. Sin twists us toward greed, hoarding, and exploitation—sometimes without us even noticing. But Jesus changes us. He shows us that our good is tied to the good of others. Justice means standing for what’s fair, lifting up the powerless, and caring for the forgotten. Not for praise, but because God’s heart beats for the least and the lost. When we live to God, injustice stirs us to act. We step into the hard work of building a world that looks more like Christ’s kingdom.

The Spirit calls us to live with courage, trusting God instead of bowing to fear. Sin keeps us in chains of fear—fear of failure, rejection, or not having enough. These fears hold us back. But when we die to sin and live to God, courage grows not from our strength but from God’s promise to stay with us. We trust him to provide, protect, and guide. Jesus shows us this courage. He walked to the cross without turning back, trusting God’s plan for redemption. When we live to God, we take risks, face challenges, and walk into the unknown, upheld by the one who conquered sin and death.

The Spirit also calls us to balance. Sin skews our priorities, pulling us toward things that harm more than help. It traps us in the chase for wealth, success, or comfort. But when we live to God, we find balance. We learn to give time and care to what truly matters. Jesus lived with balance. He knew when to work and when to rest, when to speak and when to listen. In baptism, God calls us to reflect that balance—to walk in his rhythm, resting in his peace, and living in his purpose. We find balance in our relationships, work, and rest, seeking always to more and more effortlessly live God’s love in every moment.

The Spirit shapes us to look like Christ. Dead to sin, we live in wisdom, justice, courage, and balance. These aren’t extras or ideals—they’re signs of a life shaped by the Spirit’s call. They’re fruits of baptism, proof that we live as people named and claimed by God, that we live as God’s children, his beloved with whom he is well pleased.

What’s in a name? When we’re baptized, we bear the name of Jesus. That name isn’t just a title—it’s the bedrock of our new identity. In Jesus, our name is united with his own deathless name. We are called by name, and through baptism, we are made part of the story of God’s redemptive work in the world. Through baptism, we join God’s family as named children. Our name becomes part of his grand story—a story of resurrection, of renewal, of hope, of belonging.

As we carry the name of Jesus, we’re called to live not for ourselves but for others. Through the Spirit’s constant call, we respond moment by moment, living as people redeemed and claimed by God.

So, what’s in a name? In baptism, our name is united with the name of Jesus. It’s a name that can’t die. And in that name, we find our identity, our purpose, and our call to live lives that reflect the glory and grace of being God’s beloved children.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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