Straighten Your Crown

The Baptism of the Lord – January 12, 2025
(Luke 3:15-16, 21-22)

I’m a sucker for pithy sayings and quotable lines. Margins in my notebooks and day planners are filled with them, and they’re scribbled on post-it notes that cover my desk, with the best ones perched at the edge of my computer screen. Some are clever, some sarcastic, and some are just movie lines that only insiders get. (“Blessed are the cheesemakers.”)

Most of these fade quickly, but there’s one that sticks with me. And I’ve never written it down. I’ve never had to.

“Whenever you are overwhelmed, remember whose daughter you are and straighten your crown.”

It’s not just catchy – it’s grounding. It’s about remembering who I am, where I come from, and the One who calls me “beloved.”

And that ties well into the notion of baptism. That’s where I’m claimed as God’s child, brought into the family of faith, and marked for a purpose. If I’m a child of the King, I’ve got royal blood and a royal mission.

Some days I find that inspiring.

And other days, it’s utterly intimidating.

Because here’s the kicker: if I’m the King’s daughter, then Jesus is my brother. And next to him, it’s easy to feel like the family disappointment. I mean, who hasn’t heard the spiritual equivalent of “Why can’t you be more like your brother?” Let’s be honest – he’s the sibling who sets the bar impossibly high. He’s always perfect, always patient, always on mission. He’s generous to a fault, he unfailingly turns the other cheek, and he doesn’t even complain that his birthday is on Christmas Day. Meanwhile, I’m over here fully aware that even though I do my level best, some days the only things that motivate me are caffeine and spite.

And being the King’s daughter means stepping into roles I don’t always feel ready for – prophet, priest, member of the royal family.

But that’s where Jesus’ Baptism comes in. When he stepped into the Jordan, he didn’t just affirm his identity as the Son of God. He affirmed his humanity, fully embracing the messiness of the human condition by wading into the same river where I struggle to keep my nose above the waterline. He didn’t need to be baptized – but he chose to anyway, standing shoulder to shoulder with the rest of his brothers and sisters.

Jesus’ Baptism wasn’t just a personal affirmation – it was the beginning of his ministry. It’s the same for us. Baptism isn’t just a one-time event; it’s the invitation to step into a vocation, a purpose we’re called to live out every day.

As children of the King and siblings of Jesus, we’re called to participate in Christ’s mission as priests, prophets, and royalty. Priestly work isn’t about offering sacrifices, but about living lives that draw people closer to God—witnessing through love, service, and forgiveness. Prophetic work means speaking truth, challenging the status quo, and standing with others on the margins, even when it means getting hit by the same stones that are being thrown at them. Royalty? It’s reigning through service, loving others as Christ loved us.

It feels like a lot, trying to meet such high expectations in the messiness of life. And to be honest, these roles sometimes feel overwhelming. How can I possibly live out this calling when I come up one sock short every time I do laundry? But it’s not about perfection – it’s about showing up, trusting God’s grace to do the rest. Just like Jesus, who humbly stepped into the Jordan to begin his mission, we step in and trust God to lead us.

“Straighten your crown and remember whose daughter [son] you are” is more than a pithy saying. It’s a reminder of our baptismal identity and true calling. We’re children of the King, siblings of Jesus, invited into a vocation that’s both humbling and empowering.

Like Jesus at his Baptism, we can embrace our identity and mission – messy as we are – knowing that God sees us not for our failures but for our faithfulness. And when we do, we hear the same affirmation Jesus received: “You are my beloved. With you, I am well pleased” (cf. Lk 3:22).

When discipleship feels heavy, we hold onto the truth: we don’t do this alone. We are sisters and brothers in Christ, united by the same call, strengthened by the same grace.

So, straighten your crown, beloved child, and wade into the water. Your royal calling is waiting.

By Darcie Lich