Beloved, Commissioned, and Brave: Finding God-With-Us in Del Mar
Based on the sermon by Mother Paige
Some weeks feel heavier than others. The news presses in, courage feels elusive, and it’s hard to know how to show up in the world with hope. On a Sunday like that, Mother Paige stood in the pulpit at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Del Mar and reminded us of something we deeply needed to hear: “This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” And by extension—so are we.
The Baptism of Our Lord
The Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord begins the season after Epiphany, a season full of “aha” moments—revelations about who Jesus is and how God shows up in our lives. Jesus’ baptism is one of those moments. It invites us not only to reflect on Jesus’ life, but on our own. Why does Jesus—God-with-us—step into the waters of a baptism meant for repentance? Not because he needs to be perfected, Mother Paige explained, but because this is what it looks like to be aligned with God. To be vulnerable. To surrender. To lead the way by walking it with us.
That’s Emmanuel at work: God choosing closeness over distance, solidarity over safety. In the baptism story, heaven opens, the Spirit descends, and Jesus is commissioned for ministry. It’s beautiful—and a little unsettling. Scripture says the Spirit comes “like a dove,” but as Mother Paige joked, a dove by any other name is a pigeon. Sometimes God’s presence is peaceful and graceful. Other times it feels more like a jolt—unexpected, uncomfortable, demanding our attention. And right after this holy moment? Jesus is driven into the wilderness.
If that sounds familiar, you’re not alone.
Called to be God’s People
But here’s the good news: the voice from heaven doesn’t whisper this truth just to Jesus. In Matthew’s Gospel, it’s spoken aloud for all to hear—“This is my Son, the beloved.” It’s a public declaration of love and purpose. And in our own baptism, we receive that same Spirit and that same commission. We are called—right where we are—to be God’s people in the world.
At St. Peter’s, that calling takes many forms. Some people show up to create worship that fills us up and sends us back out renewed. Some unroll sleeping bags and set up air mattresses so neighbors without shelter have a safe, warm place to sleep on cold nights. Some cook meals, teach children, or quietly keep the doors open so the Parish Hall can be a home during our annual Interfaith Shelter. Some live out their faith in workplaces, classrooms, and kitchens across Del Mar and North County, trusting that what they’re doing matters.
Just recently, our church was filled with people from many traditions—Episcopal, Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, Jewish, spiritual-but-not-religious—gathered to learn how to support neighbors navigating immigration court. Different backgrounds, one shared calling: to show up for the vulnerable, to be God’s people in real and tangible ways.
Mother Paige also pointed us to the richness of scripture that day: Isaiah’s vision of justice shaped by gentleness and mercy; a psalm that roars like a thunderstorm, reminding us that God’s voice is powerful enough to shake the wilderness and tender enough to walk beside us. This same God—vast and mighty—is also near. On our side. With us.
Conclusion
So maybe bravery doesn’t mean feeling fearless. Maybe it means trusting that we are beloved even when we’re tired, unsure, or overwhelmed. Maybe it means remembering that we are not alone—that Emmanuel, God-with-us, commissions ordinary people to do extraordinary things simply by showing up with love.
If you’re in the Del Mar area and longing for a place where faith meets real life, where questions are welcome, and where community is built through care for one another and our neighbors, you’ll find a home here. At St. Peter’s, we’re learning—together—how to be brave, not because the world is easy, but because we know we are beloved. And that makes all the difference.
