I can’t remember when I first heard the phrase “remember your baptism”, but it’s something I think about often—if not daily, then close to it. Why is it that in most church traditions this phrase is like a well-worn rug yet, in our day, it has almost disappeared? Why would Martin Luther, the great German Reformer, urge: “When you wash your face, remember your baptism.” Unless you have hygiene issues, that means at least once a day, you should be brought back to the reality of your baptism. But are we? When was the last time you thought intentionally about your baptism?

Now for a confession… as the son of an architect, I love visiting Anglican churches (there I’ve said it!). Whenever I pass an open door to a church building, something in me tugs me to step inside. One of the things I admire most in Anglican ecclesiological design (that’s just a fancy way of saying “how churches are built for worship”) is that the baptismal font is almost always one of the first and last things you encounter when entering or leaving the building. Why? You guessed it … as a physical reminder to the congregation, week by week, to remember their baptism. Whenever I visit, I always touch the font, pause, and remember that at the age of 13 I was baptised in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—our great Triune God. Or, as John Calvin put it: “Baptism is the mark by which we publicly profess that we wish to be reckoned God’s people, by which we testify that we agree in worshipping the same God, in one religion with all Christians.”

Now that I’m on a roll with stories, let me tell you another one. How many of you remember cassette tapes? Think of them as Spotify from the olden days! My parents had a cassette recording of their wedding service and every anniversary, we kids were banished from the front room while they listened to it together. Why? Because by remembering their wedding day, they were deepening their understanding of the life they were now living.

That brings me to another way we remember. If you’re married, chances are you’re wearing a wedding ring. How often does that ring remind you of your vows? I’ve never counted, but I reckon hundreds of times a day—especially if, like me, you tend to fiddle with it. Every time I spin mine around, I’m reminded of something mysterious that happened on the 21st of October 2000: two people became one. We were joined in a union woven together by covenant promises. Remembering our wedding day and promises we made is part of living in the good of it now.

So why am I telling you all this? Because in so many areas of life, we understand that remembering the past helps us live more fully in the present. Why, then, have we lost sight of this when it comes to baptism? Why has baptism become little more than a once- or twice-a-year celebration, rather than something that shapes our daily lives? Why has “remembering your baptism” fallen out of fashion? Why, in so many Bible-believing churches, has baptism slipped quietly into the background, when in the New Testament it was central to both the birth of the church and its theology?

I suspect there are many reasons. One is the rise of para-church organisations which, with good intentions, tried to bridge denominational divides but often downplayed baptismal convictions in the process. Another reason may be more ordinary: we’ve simply taken baptism for granted—and in doing so, we’ve let it slip through our fingers.

Perhaps it’s time to recover a robust and joyful vision of baptism, so that we—as individuals and as a church—truly remember our baptism and live in the good of it every day.

This edition of The Loop is devoted to that very theme. I know that baptism raises long-standing theological differences, which we will touch on along the way. But as elders, and as a church, we gladly identify as a credobaptist church (don’t worry—I’ll explain what that means later). In fact, this is one of our key distinctives. That’s why, as elders, we’re currently working through the core distinctives of ECC—not just as statements on paper, but as convictions that shape our life together. It’s challenging work. Each distinctive comes with countless theological questions and just as many pastoral implications. To give you a sense of it, I’ve already written over ten thousand words across two papers just on baptism, so that the elders can work through it carefully together. And yet, for a subject so foundational, it’s striking how rarely it’s talked about today.

So how might you engage with this edition of The Loop?

First, maybe you’ve never actually been baptised. My prayer is that as you read, you’ll see that baptism is, in Karl Barth’s words, “the first step of the Christian life, the beginning of a lifelong discipleship”. To put it simply: baptism is the first step of following Jesus. Put another way, an unbaptised disciple is a biblical anomaly.

Second, maybe you’ve been confused by the debates over baptism—credo vs paedo, sprinkling vs immersion—and, as a result, you’ve parked the whole subject. I hope this edition will bring fresh clarity and joyful conviction, enabling you to move forward in faith and obedience.

Third, maybe it’s just been far too long since you last remembered your baptism. Luther’s advice about washing your face might have made you laugh—and squirm! If so, may this edition give you fresh reasons to remember your baptism and to rejoice in the grace it proclaims.

Finally, for us as a church, in a culture that has lost its moorings on so much, let this edition of The Loop act like remedial work on the foundations of our life together—ensuring they are strong enough to carry the weight of everyday discipleship.