To Fulfill All Righteousness

A sermon for the First Sunday after the Epiphany: Baptism of Our Lord
January 11, 2026, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Isaiah 42:1-9; Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17

Today we find ourselves at the banks of the Jordan River, with John the Baptist and all the sinners, all the guilt-ridden folks from Judea and Jerusalem, all of those yearning for a new start. They have gone out to this bizarre prophet to be baptized, confessing their sins, trusting that this act make some kind of change in their lives. They go out in faith, trusting that somehow God is active. They go out hoping that they will somehow connect with God, hoping what they do will be enough–and they find that God is already in the waters, waiting for them, doing for them what they cannot do for themselves.  

Today is the feast of the Baptism of Our Lord, the first Sunday after Epiphany. Each year we read an account of Jesus’s baptism. It’s recorded explicitly in Matthew, Mark, and Luke; it’s hinted at in John. In the gospels this is the start of Jesus’s public ministry. And in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, we hear the words from God as the heavens are opened: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” 

But Matthew gives us something else, too. Matthew gives us this conversation between Jesus and John the Baptist. Through this conversation, Matthew gives us the theological rationale–the why behind this act. After all, why would the perfect Son of God need to be baptized? There is no sin to wash away. Jesus tells us today: “To fulfill all righteousness.” But what does this mean–fulfilling all righteousness? It means that what Jesus does today is in obedience to the will of God the Father; he is baptized to give us an example, a way to follow; and in this baptism we see a foreshadowing of the cross, when his perfect righteousness will cover all sin: when his perfect obedience will cover all disobedience, when his perfect faithfulness will cover our faithlessness. And this is not for us alone; his sacrifice is enough to heal and reconcile the whole world. 

If you were at that river that day and looked around, you would not see much righteousness. For what it’s worth, if you look around you now, you will not see much righteousness. We human beings stray; we fall short; we sin. We hurt one another and all creation. Our ways lack divine vision; we are woefully short on faithfulness of our own. As it was that day at the River Jordan, so too today at St. Luke’s. The righteousness of our own making does not suffice; it does not reconcile us to God. But just as that day at the Jordan, so, too, today, does Jesus Christ step on the scene. And his perfect righteousness, his perfect obedience, his perfect faithfulness covers us. And he invites us to follow him, not because we are worthy, but because we are loved. 

That’s what baptism is all about: It’s about following the perfect Lamb of God into the waters. We don’t have any righteousness of our own, but his is enough for us. And through this simple act, water and prayer, we are made children of the Most High God. Through this simple act, water and prayer, we are justified, covered with Christ’s perfect righteousness and faithfulness. Through this simple act, water and prayer, we are drawn back into God’s heart, reconciled to the Maker of All Things who has always loved us, and always will. What Jesus does fulfills all righteousness, because we never could. And then it gives us his righteousness as his free gift of grace, making us children of God and heirs of eternal life. 

If you looked around at the Jordan River… I wasn’t there, but I was at St. Paul’s in Fayetteville for a Sunday afternoon service. It was a small service: the clergy, the choir, and inmates from the women’s prison. We all filed out of the church to a full immersion tank singing “As I Went Down to the River to Pray”; the sound of their chains accompanied us. I looked around and I didn’t see much righteousness. I looked inward and I saw even less. But one by one, those women went to the water. They prayed a line from Psalm 51: “Purge me from my sin, and I shall be pure; wash me, and I shall be clean indeed.” And they were washed and made pure. No matter where they had been or what they had done, Christ’s righteousness was given to them, and they were claimed as God’s own forever. For what Christ has done is enough for them–it’s enough for you and for me. 

In a few moments we will go to the waters once more. Annistyn and Rory will be made children of God and members of Christ’s Body the Church. Infant baptism reminds us that when we go to those waters, we are not the ones doing the action. God is the One who acts. Rory and Annistyn can do nothing to deserve God’s grace; they can do nothing to deserve the washing away of sin, the promise of eternal life. Nor can we. And yet, by a perfect gift, God will grant them the perfect righteousness of Christ and the forgiveness of sin, and with us, they will be heirs of the Kingdom of heaven. For what Christ has done is enough for them, too. All righteousness has been fulfilled so that it may be given to us, the undeserving. And all because of a perfect love that did not stop at the river, but went even to the cross in pursuit of our souls, in pursuit of our healing, in pursuit of our salvation.