Dead to Sin, Alive in Christ: Finding Our True Identity

🕇 The 6^th Sunday after Trinity – 1928 BCP – July 27^th, 2025

Preached at St. Barnabas Anglican Church, Bellville, TX

Fr. Mike Keppler, Rector

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable to thee, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer, and Lord, give us here today, eyes to see and ears to hear so we can learn your word together as a family. We offer you all the praise, honor, and Glory for it in Jesus' name. Amen.

Good morning, my fellow encouragers! There's a phrase that has entered our cultural vocabulary: "dead man walking." It originated from prison guards announcing the approach of a condemned prisoner making their final walk to execution.

Today, this phrase embodies a powerful spiritual truth about the human condition. Without Christ, we are all, in a sense, the walking dead, alive physically but spiritually separated from God through sin. Yet the Good News of the Gospel proclaimed in today's readings offers us something far greater: we who were dead can now truly live.

In our Epistle reading from Romans 6, St. Paul presents an insightful mystery of our faith: "Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death?" This is the foundation of our Christian identity. In baptism, we are united with Christ in His death. The waters of baptism symbolize a cleansing and a tomb as we are buried with Christ.

When we witness a baptism, we should remember this sacred reality. The water in baptism represents both the waters of judgment and the waters of new creation. Just as the flood waters in Noah's time brought both death and new beginning, just as the Red Sea meant death for Pharaoh's army but life and freedom for God's people, so too our baptismal waters signify both death to sin and birth to righteousness.

But St. Paul doesn't leave us in the tomb. He continues, "Like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life." Our baptism is both a death and a resurrection. We rise as Christ rose on Easter morning to a fundamentally new existence.

This baptismal identity shapes everything about us. When we face temptation, we can say confidently to ourselves, "That person who would yield to this sin has been crucified with Christ." When we gather for worship, we do so as people who have passed from death to life. When we look in the mirror, we see someone who has been "buried with him by baptism into death" and raised to "walk in newness of life." We are no longer defined by our failures, or our sins, or the world's judgments. We are defined by our union with Christ.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus challenges us: "Except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven."

At first glance, this seems an impossible standard. The Pharisees were meticulous in their observance of the Law. But Jesus is pointing to something deeper than conformity to rules. He's calling us to a righteousness that flows from a transformed heart, and remember, righteousness simply means “being right with God.”

The Pharisees focused only on outward actions. As long as someone didn’t physically do wrong, like commit murder, they thought they were righteous. But Jesus raises the bar. He says that God's standard of righteousness goes much deeper; it searches our thoughts, our attitudes, and our hidden feelings.

To make his point, Jesus uses an example of the three levels of Jewish courts, much like how we have a coroner's office, a local judge, and a district court.

If you’re angry at someone in your heart, that’s like going before the coroner. If you lash out in anger and speak harshly, now you’re standing before the judge. And if you go so far as to curse or belittle someone, you’re in the highest court, facing the most serious consequences.

Here’s the thing: no one has been physically harmed yet. No blood has been spilled. But Jesus is saying, if we take anger and bitterness seriously before they lead to hateful words or harmful actions, we’ve already taken the first big step toward true righteousness.

He teaches us that sin begins in the heart. If we want to live holy lives, we not only have to avoid doing bad things, but we also have to root out the bad thoughts and desires that give rise to those things. The Law of Christ, which is the Law of Love, judges even the secret stirrings of hatred and pride, long before they ever show up in our words or deeds.

Jesus shows us that righteousness isn’t just about one good deed here or there. It’s not something we check off a list once a week. Instead, genuine righteousness permeates every aspect of our lives, from our families and friendships to our work and even our interactions with strangers. The real love God asks of us is both deep and wide. It covers everything.

Our faith isn’t meant to be divided into separate parts, with one part for church, one part for home, and another part for work. No, it’s all one offering. Our trust in God, how we treat others, how we live every day — all of it belongs together and should be laid at God’s altar as one whole-hearted gift.

Jesus calls us to be people of peace, to build bridges, heal wounds, and spread His message. That’s the kind of ministry He gives us. It’s not just for pastors or missionaries but for everyone who follows Him.

Why? Because we’ve been baptized into Christ. Now we see the people around us in a different light. They are men and women made in God’s image, just like us. And Jesus died for them, just like He died for us.

And so, here at St. Barnabas, we are called to be a community of reconciliation, a community of encouragers for Christ. A church that doesn’t just talk about love, but actually lives it out in real and practical ways.

The prophet Isaiah offers us a beautiful picture of God's reconciling work: "I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones."

The God who inhabits eternity, who dwells in unapproachable light, comes near to the broken-hearted. He promises peace to those far and near. God's desire to restore what sin has broken is a consistent message throughout Scripture.

"The Sacred Still Speaks." The same God who spoke through Isaiah, who revealed Himself fully in Christ, continues to speak today. When we open the Scriptures, gather around the Lord's Table, or kneel in prayer using the beautiful words of our Prayer Book, we encounter the living God who still speaks to His people.

"Ancient Faith and Real Love." This expresses our identity as Anglican Christians at St. Barnabas. We stand in a tradition that stretches back through the centuries to the apostles themselves. We cherish the creeds, the liturgy, the sacraments that have nourished generations of believers.

But this ancient faith is not a cold relic. It produces real love, love for God and love for neighbor. It shapes how we worship on Sunday and how we live Monday through Saturday. It gives us confidence in who we are in Christ and compels us to share this life-giving message with others.

St. Barnabas Anglican Church, Bellville, TX, is a place of worship where “The Sacred Still Speaks.” It’s a place of “Ancient Faith” that manifests “Real Love.”

As we transition from a mission to a parish, this identity, where "The Sacred Still Speaks" and "Ancient Faith and Real Love" exist, becomes even more critical. Our desire to reach young families requires that we be deeply rooted in our identity in Christ. When we truly grasp that we have died with Christ and been raised to new life, when we experience the peace and reconciliation He offers, we naturally want others to share that with others.

But inviting others to church isn't about growing our numbers. It's about introducing them to the One who has transformed us from "dead men walking" to children of God, alive in Christ. It's about sharing the peace we've found with those who are far off.

My fellow encouragers in Christ, today's readings call us to embrace our true identity. We are those who have been united with Christ in His death and resurrection. We are those who have been reconciled to God and called to be ministers of reconciliation. We are those who hear the Sacred still speaking and who live out an ancient faith in real love.

You may have noticed that the baptismal font in the narthex has been opened. Each time we mark ourselves with the sign of the cross using holy water from it, each time we witness an actual baptism (which I hope we’ll have soon), or each time we renew our baptismal vows, we remind ourselves of this fundamental truth: the old has passed away; behold, the new has come.

When we struggle with sin, when we find it difficult to forgive, when we hesitate to share our faith, let’s remember the waters of baptism. Let’s recall that we have already died with Christ and been raised with Him. The hardest part is already accomplished! We now live in the power of His resurrection.

As we prepare to approach the Lord's Table, remember that in the Eucharist, we enact this mystery again. The bread broken and the wine poured out represent Christ's body broken and blood shed, the very death into which we were baptized.

And as we receive these sacred elements, we are nourished by the risen Christ for our new life in Him. From font to altar, from baptism to Eucharist, our Christian identity is formed and sustained. And we are sent forth to proclaim through word and deed that the dead can live again through Christ.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.