Readings

Isaiah 49.1–7 – Listen to me, O coastlands, pay attention, you peoples from far away! The Lord called me before I was born, while I was in my mother’s womb he named me. He made my mouth like a sharp sword, in the shadow of his hand he hid me; he made me a polished arrow, in his quiver he hid me away. And he said to me, ‘You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified.’ But I said, ‘I have laboured in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity; yet surely my cause is with the Lord, and my reward with my God.’ And now the Lord says, who formed me in the womb to be his servant, to bring Jacob back to him, and that Israel might be gathered to him, for I am honoured in the sight of the Lord, and my God has become my strength— he says, ‘It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.’ Thus says the Lord, the Redeemer of Israel and his Holy One, to one deeply despised, abhorred by the nations, the slave of rulers, ‘Kings shall see and stand up, princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.’

John 1.29–42 – The next day he saw Jesus coming towards him and declared, ‘Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, “After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.” I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.’ And John testified, ‘I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, “He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.” And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.’ The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, ‘Look, here is the Lamb of God!’ The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, ‘What are you looking for?’ They said to him, ‘Rabbi’ (which translated means Teacher), ‘where are you staying?’ He said to them, ‘Come and see.’ They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. He first found his brother Simon and said to him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ (which is translated Anointed). He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, ‘You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas’ (which is translated Peter).

Sermon

Epiphany is the season of revelation. It is the time in the Church’s year when we are invited to look again, and to look more deeply, at who Jesus is, and what his presence means for the world. Not all at once, not in a single dazzling moment, but gradually, as light grows clearer day by day.

Our readings this morning are both about recognition and calling. They are about seeing who God’s servant really is, and about discovering what it means to be drawn into God’s purposes.

In the Gospel reading, John the Baptist points to Jesus and says those striking words: “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” It is a moment of revelation. John sees something in Jesus that others have not yet fully grasped. He sees not only a teacher or prophet, but one who stands at the very heart of God’s saving work.

And yet, what follows is wonderfully understated. There is no thunder, no dramatic sign from heaven. Instead, two of John’s disciples hear what he says, and they simply follow Jesus at a distance. Jesus turns and asks them a question that goes right to the heart of faith: “What are you looking for?”

It is a question worth lingering with. What are you looking for? Not just in church, not just in faith, but in life itself. Meaning? Belonging? Healing? Direction? Hope? The first disciples do not give a clear answer. Instead, they respond with another question: “Rabbi, where are you staying?”

Perhaps they are not yet sure what they are looking for. Perhaps all they know is that something about Jesus has caught their attention, and they want to spend time with him, to see for themselves.

Jesus’ response is simple and generous: “Come and see.”

Those three words echo down the centuries. Christian faith is not, at its heart, a set of abstract ideas or neat answers. It is an invitation: come and see; come and stay; come and discover.

John tells us that they stayed with Jesus that day. Nothing remarkable is recorded about what was said. But something happened, because one of them, Andrew, cannot keep it to himself. He goes and finds his brother Simon and says, “We have found the Messiah.” And he brings Simon to Jesus.

This is how faith spreads in John’s Gospel: not through grand speeches, but through personal encounter and quiet witness. One person points; another comes and sees; another is brought along. Light shared, almost casually, but powerfully.

That sense of calling and purpose takes us back to our reading from Isaiah. Isaiah 49 is one of the so-called “Servant Songs”, passages that speak of a mysterious servant called by God for the sake of the world. The servant speaks in the first person: “The Lord called me before I was born, while I was in my mother’s womb he named me.”

These words speak of a calling that is deep, personal, and rooted in God’s intention. Before achievement, before success or failure, before even being known by others, the servant is known by God.

But this is not an easy calling. The servant goes on to say: “I have laboured in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity.” There is disappointment here, a sense that the work has not gone as hoped. Faithful service does not always feel successful. Obedience does not always lead to visible results.

Yet God’s response is not to abandon the servant, but to expand the vision. “It is too light a thing,” God says, “that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob… I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”

This is Epiphany language. Light for the nations. Salvation reaching outward, beyond familiar boundaries. God’s purposes are always larger than we expect.

Christians have long heard these words echoed and fulfilled in Jesus. In John’s Gospel, when John the Baptist calls Jesus “the Lamb of God”, he is drawing together rich strands of meaning: the Passover lamb, the suffering servant, the one who bears the weight of the world’s brokenness.

And yet, Jesus does not immediately set out to conquer the world or dazzle the crowds. He gathers a few followers, asks gentle but searching questions, and invites them to stay with him.

There is something deeply reassuring in that. God’s work in the world often begins quietly. Revelation unfolds through relationship. Transformation starts with attention – with noticing, listening, staying.

For us, on this Second Sunday of Epiphany, the question is not only who is Jesus? but also what does it mean to follow him now?

Like the servant in Isaiah, we may sometimes feel that our efforts come to little. We try to be faithful – in our families, our communities, our church – and wonder whether it makes any real difference. We may feel small, overlooked, or discouraged.

But Isaiah reminds us that faithfulness is seen and held by God, even when it feels fruitless. And John’s Gospel reminds us that God works through simple acts of witness: pointing, inviting, bringing someone else along.

Andrew does not preach a sermon. He does not explain everything. He simply says, “We have found the Messiah,” and brings his brother to Jesus. That is all.

Perhaps that is our calling too: not to have all the answers, but to be people who have spent time with Jesus, and who quietly, honestly, invite others to come and see.

Epiphany is not just about recognising Christ as light for the world; it is about allowing that light to shine through us, however imperfectly. To trust that God can use our small faithfulness as part of something much larger than we can see.

So as we continue this season of Epiphany, we might hold onto Jesus’ invitation. When faith feels uncertain, when the way ahead is unclear, when we are not sure what we are looking for, he says to us still: “Come and see.”

Come and stay. Come and discover. And as we do, may we find ourselves drawn more deeply into the light of God’s love, for our own sake, and for the sake of the world God longs to heal.

Amen.