The Second Sunday after The Epiphany, Year A
January 18, 2026
Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-10; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-41
January 18, 2026
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Come and See: Baptism, Allegiance, and the Way of the Lamb
The Rev. Kathleen Murray, Rector
Historic Beckford Parish, Mount Jackson & Woodstock
The season after Epiphany does not allow us to remain vague for very long. Epiphany is about revelation. It is about God being made known, not in abstraction or sentiment, but in flesh, in history, and in consequence. Epiphany presses us to look closely at who God is revealing Godself to be, and what kind of people we are becoming in response.
So, we remain at the Jordan today. John is still there, still baptizing, still calling people to repent. But the focus sharpens. Twice in this Gospel, John points to Jesus and says, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”[1] He does not say it casually. He says it deliberately. In John’s Gospel, repetition matters. John is bearing witness. He is making a claim about who Jesus is.
And it is a very particular claim. The Lamb of God is not a symbol of domination. A lamb does not conquer. A lamb does not intimidate. A lamb bears vulnerability and absorbs cost. When John names Jesus this way, he is telling us not only who Jesus is, but how God acts. God does not save the world by overpowering it. God saves the world by entering it fully and refusing to abandon it.
The second time John says this, two of his own disciples hear him and follow Jesus. John does not stop them. He does not hedge. He does not protect his own authority. He tells the truth and lets it cost him something. That, too, is faithfulness.
Alongside this Gospel we hear the opening of Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians. Paul is writing to a church that is struggling. Corinth is divided, competitive, confused about what faithfulness actually looks like when lived out together. And yet Paul begins not with frustration, but with gratitude. “I give thanks to my God always for you,” he says, “because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus.”[2]
Paul knows the problems are real. He will address them directly soon enough. But first he grounds them in something deeper than their failures: God is faithful. God has already acted. God has already claimed them. Before Paul says anything about what they must do, he reminds them who they belong to.
That claim is baptism.
One of the things I do for the Diocese of Virginia is serve as a member of the Board of Examining Chaplains. We are responsible for reading and evaluating answers written by those seeking ordination to the diaconate and priesthood. This past week, reading the answers to a question about baptism helped me focus this sermon.
One candidate very fully explained baptism in terms of the promises we make or were made on our behalf. He very clearly articulated the community’s action in supporting the baptismal promises. Where the answer fell a bit short, and where, frankly, I missed the mark in my sermon last week is where God is in baptism. It is, of course, through God’s grace that we receive the seal of baptism and are marked as Christ’s own forever.
Thus, baptism is not simply a personal spiritual milestone. It is a public reorientation of allegiance. Baptism names us, claims us, and binds us to a way of life that does not belong to the surrounding culture. It tells us that before we are ready, before we understand fully, God has already said yes to us. And that yes carries responsibility.
In recent months, many clergy have been writing and speaking in tones of lament and warning. This is not because we thrive on anxiety. It is because we are watching something real happen. We are seeing baptismal promises treated as optional when they become inconvenient.
There are moments when faithfulness requires more than comfort or reassurance. There are moments when the church must say clearly that not every loud voice claiming God’s blessing is of God, and not every promise of protection is compatible with the Gospel.
Just two weeks ago, Stephen Miller, said on the Jake Tapper show: “We live in a world, in the real world…that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power…These are the iron laws of the world since the beginning of time.”[3]
That may sound realistic. It may sound like hard-earned wisdom.
As Christian, however, we must reject that thinking. And if rejecting that sounds partisan, it is partisan in the way Jesus was partisan. The Gospel does not deny that the world often runs on strength and power; what it does deny is that these temporal powers get the final word. Jesus reveals God as the Lamb, not the strongman.
That is baptismal truth.
One of the greatest threats the church faces right now is not disbelief, but distorted belief. The threat is Christian language severed from Christ’s way of love, humility, and truth. When faith becomes primarily about fear, control, or winning, something essential is lost.
Andrew offers us another model. He does not argue. He does not posture. He brings his brother to Jesus and says, “Come and see.” Without Andrew, there is no Peter. Without that quiet act of trust, the story unfolds differently. Faithfulness does not always look dramatic. Often it looks relational, steady, and rooted in confidence that encountering Jesus actually matters.
“Come and see” is not a passive invitation. It asks something of us. It asks whether we are pointing others toward the Jesus revealed in the Gospel, or toward a version shaped by our fears and preferences.[4]
The Jesus John points to is the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world, not by assigning blame, but by bearing the cost of love. The Jesus Paul proclaims is the one who holds fractured communities together by grace. The Jesus we meet in baptism calls us into lives shaped by courage, honesty, and compassion.
Epiphany asks us to look carefully at the light we are following. What kind of power we trust. What kind of future we are willing to claim as people shaped by baptism.
Because silence is not innocence. Neutrality is not faithfulness. When the church refuses to distinguish the Lamb of God from false saviors, it does not preserve unity; it forfeits its witness.
Paul reminds the Corinthians, and us, that faithfulness is not measured by ease or success. “God is faithful,” he says, “by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son.”[5] That fellowship binds us to Christ and therefore to one another, especially when the world would rather divide.
Each time we gather, each time we remember our baptism, we renew that allegiance. We choose again the way of Christ over the way of fear. We choose truth over convenience. We choose love that costs something.
“Come and see” remains the invitation.
Come and see a faith grounded in grace.
Come and see a community shaped by baptism.
Come and see what it looks like to follow the Lamb of God in a world that still believes strength and force are ultimate.
God is faithful.
God has acted.
God is acting still.
Baptism means our allegiance belongs to Christ and that allegiance shapes how we live in this world. Amen.
[1] John 1:29, New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (“NRSVUE”)
[2] 1 Corinthians 1:4, NRSVUE
[3] As quoted in the New York Times online January 5, 2026, and in print on January 7, 2026, Section A, Page 8 of the New York edition with the headline: “Miller Says Imperialism Is Justified In Greenland.”
[4] Cf. John 1:39, NRSVUE
[5] 1 Corinthians 1:9, NRSVUE