Matthew 5:1-12 — Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

Introduction

Mountains matter in the story of faith. In Scripture, mountains are places of encounter, places where heaven and earth feel closer, where vision becomes clearer, and where lives are reoriented. Moses went up a mountain to receive the law. Elijah went up a mountain to hear the still, small voice. And in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus goes up the mountain and sits down to teach.

This is not accidental. Matthew wants us to see that something foundational is happening here. Jesus is not simply offering advice for a better life. He is forming a people. He is shaping a community that will live differently in the world. When Jesus goes up the mountain, he invites us to follow, not only physically, but spiritually. To follow Jesus up the mountain is to allow our values, our assumptions, and our hopes to be reshaped by the kingdom of God.

Who Follows Jesus Up the Mountain?

Matthew tells us, “When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him.” There are crowds, and there are disciples. The crowds remain at a distance, curious, hopeful, watching. The disciples come closer, ready to listen.

The Beatitudes are spoken not to spiritual elites, but to ordinary people who have chosen to follow Jesus. They are people who are tired, searching, longing for meaning, and willing to learn. Following Jesus up the mountain requires movement. It means leaving what is familiar, stepping away from the noise below, and choosing to sit at Jesus’ feet.

Discipleship begins with proximity. Before we can live the teachings of Jesus, we must come close enough to hear him. The mountain is not a place of escape from the world. It is a place of preparation for life in the world.

A Surprising Vision of Blessing

When Jesus opens his mouth, the first word he speaks is “Blessed.” And he repeats it again and again. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are those who mourn. Blessed are the meek.

This is not what the world expects. We usually associate blessing with success, strength, confidence, and control. Jesus speaks blessing into places we tend to avoid: poverty of spirit, grief, hunger, and vulnerability.

Jesus is not glorifying suffering for its own sake. Instead, he is revealing where God’s grace is already at work. The Beatitudes show us that God’s kingdom is not built on self-sufficiency, but on trust. It is built on hearts open enough to receive God’s mercy and guidance.

To follow Jesus up the mountain is to allow our definition of a good life to be challenged and reshaped.

The Shape of Kingdom Life

Each Beatitude is both a promise and a calling. “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”

Jesus is describing the character of those who live under God’s reign. This is not a checklist for earning God’s favor. It is a portrait of a transformed life. The kingdom of heaven reshapes how we relate to God, to others, and even to ourselves.

Following Jesus up the mountain means learning a new way of being human. It means choosing humility over pride, mercy over resentment, peace over hostility, and faithfulness over convenience. This way of life is not easy, but it is deeply life-giving.

Blessed Even in Difficulty

The final Beatitudes speak of persecution and rejection. Jesus is honest. Living according to the values of the kingdom will sometimes put us at odds with the world around us. Yet even here, Jesus says, “Rejoice and be glad.”

Why? Because disciples are never alone. To follow Jesus up the mountain is to stand in a long line of faithful witnesses who trusted God even when the path was hard. The promise of the kingdom is stronger than any opposition we may face.

This is not shallow optimism. It is deep hope rooted in God’s faithfulness. Jesus assures his disciples that lives shaped by the kingdom matter, now and forever.

Conclusion

The Sermon on the Mount begins on the mountain, but it does not end there. Jesus and his disciples eventually come down, back into daily life, back into the needs and struggles of the world.

Following Jesus up the mountain changes us so that we can live differently below. We carry with us a new vision of blessing, a new way of relating, and a hope that does not depend on circumstances.

The invitation still stands. Jesus goes up the mountain and sits down to teach. The question is whether we are willing to follow, to listen, to be shaped, and to live as people of the kingdom.

Blessed are those who follow Jesus up the mountain, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

John 1:29-42 — Second Sunday after the Epiphany

Introduction

Most of our lives are shaped not by loud, dramatic decisions, but by the quiet questions we carry within us: What am I looking for? What gives meaning to my days? Where do I belong? Who truly sees me? In John 1:29–42, the people who encounter Jesus are not models of polished faith or spiritual certainty. They come with curiosity, movement, and searching hearts. This Gospel passage is not about perfect believers, but about ordinary people trying to orient their lives and discovering that Jesus meets them precisely in that place of longing and uncertainty.

Jesus Meets Us Where We Are Carrying Our Burdens

The story begins with John the Baptist naming Jesus as “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” While sin can feel like an abstract theological concept, it often appears in daily life as a weight we carry: persistent guilt, broken relationships, quiet fears, or the exhaustion of trying to be enough. John’s declaration is deeply pastoral. Jesus comes toward us bearing what we cannot carry ourselves. Notably, Jesus does not wait for people to approach him; he walks toward them. Grace always moves first. Christ meets us not in idealized versions of our lives, but in our real ones, arriving before we are ready and offering relief deeper than any quick solution.

Faith Often Begins by Following Before Understanding

As the narrative unfolds, the disciples begin to follow Jesus without fully understanding who he is. They move not because of certainty, but because they trust a voice that points beyond itself. Their following is quiet and unremarkable, with no recorded questions and no dramatic conversion moment. This is reassuring for modern disciples, many of whom follow Jesus without complete clarity or perfect theology. Faith often looks less like confidence and more like taking the next step anyway. John the Baptist reminds us that spiritual maturity is not about control, but about direction. Every day, something is shaping our lives, and the essential question becomes whom, or what, we are following.

Jesus Asks About Our Longing and Renames Our Lives

When Jesus turns and asks the disciples, “What are you looking for?” he is not testing them, but inviting honesty. It is a question that still echoes today, probing our deepest longings for security, healing, purpose, or rest. Their response, “Where are you staying?” is imperfect and tentative, yet Jesus does not correct it. Instead, he invites them with the simple words, “Come and see.” Transformation begins not with answers, but with presence. Time spent with Jesus reshapes perception, identity, and direction. This becomes especially clear when Simon meets Jesus and receives a new name. Before Simon proves himself or accomplishes anything, Jesus sees who he can become and offers a future not bound by past limitations.

Conclusion

John 1:29–42 ultimately invites us not to be extraordinary disciples, but honest ones, honest about our burdens, our searching, and the uncertainty that often accompanies faith. Jesus does not require clarity before relationship; he offers relationship first. As we walk with him, day by day and question by question, we begin to realize that our lives are not defined solely by what we seek. In Christ, we discover something even more profound: we are not only searching for meaning. We are being found.

Matthew 2:1–12 — Epiphany Sunday

The Mystery of the Incarnation Revealed

Matthew’s account of the visit of the Magi comes immediately after the birth of Jesus and offers a theological window into who this child truly is. While John’s Gospel declares, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us,” Matthew shows us what that truth looks like in lived history.

The eternal Word enters a real world—one shaped by politics, fear, power struggles, and sincere searching. The Magi are not kings, but wise seekers from the East, likely astrologers trained to read signs in the heavens. Their journey reminds us that God speaks in ways people can understand and meets them where they are.

Matthew is also intentional in placing Gentiles at the cradle of Christ. From the very beginning, the incarnation is not private or limited—it reaches beyond Israel to the nations. When the Word becomes flesh, the world must respond. Some respond with fear. Some with indifference. Others with worship. This story invites us to ask how we respond to the incarnate Word today.

The Word Became Flesh and Entered Our World

Jesus is born at a specific time and place. During the reign of Herod, a ruler known for insecurity and violence. God does not wait for ideal conditions to enter human history. The incarnation happens in a world already broken.

The Magi ask a dangerous question: “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” Their question exposes the tension between God’s kingdom and human power. When the Word becomes flesh, God does not compete for power as the world does. God comes quietly and vulnerably, as a child.

This is both comforting and challenging. God meets us not after life is resolved, but right in the middle of uncertainty. The incarnation assures us that no place is too dark, and no moment too fragile, for God to dwell among us.

The Word Made Flesh Is Recognized by Those Who Seek

It is striking who recognizes Jesus, and who does not. Herod is troubled. The religious leaders are informed but unmoved. Yet foreign seekers set out on a long and uncertain journey.

The Magi do not have all the answers, but they respond faithfully to the light they are given. Their journey reminds us that faith is not about certainty; it is about attentiveness and movement. God honors honest seeking.

There is also a gentle warning here. Proximity to religious knowledge does not guarantee encounter. One can know Scripture and still remain unchanged. The Magi show us that faith involves leaving comfort, risking misunderstanding, and trusting that God’s light will be enough for the next step.

The Word Made Flesh Receives Our Worship and Changes Our Direction

When the Magi finally arrive, they do not speak, they kneel. Worship is the natural response to the incarnation. They offer gold, frankincense, and myrrh: gifts symbolizing kingship, divinity, and suffering.

Their worship is costly and intentional, and it leads to transformation. Matthew tells us they return home by another way. This is more than a travel detail; it is a spiritual truth. An encounter with the Word made flesh always changes our path.

We may come to Christ curious, weary, or searching. But grace does not leave us unchanged. It redirects our lives toward humility, trust, and obedience.

Living with the Incarnate Word

When the Word became flesh, God chose nearness over distance, vulnerability over power, and love over control. In Jesus, God does not shout from heaven but walks among us.

This Epiphany story invites us to examine our own response. Are we watching for God’s light? Are we willing to follow it, even when the journey is long? Are we prepared to offer our lives in worship, and to return by another way?

The good news is that the Word still dwells among us. Christ still meets seekers on the road. And God’s grace is still strong enough to guide us, step by step, into transformed lives.

Matthew 1:18-25 — Fourth Sunday of Advent

On this Fourth Sunday of Advent, as we stand on the threshold of Christmas, the Gospel invites us to look at a quiet but courageous man: Joseph. He does not speak in the story, yet his faith speaks loudly through his choices. In a moment filled with uncertainty, Joseph chooses trust. His decision mirrors Mary’s own “yes” to God, and together they show us what devoted faith looks like.

I. Faith Faces Uncertainty Honestly

Joseph’s story begins with disruption. He is engaged to Mary, and suddenly everything changes. Mary is found to be with child, and Joseph knows the child is not his. His future, his reputation, and his plans are all at risk. This is important: faith does not begin with certainty. Faith often begins when life does not make sense. Joseph does not deny the pain or confusion of the situation. He takes it seriously. Yet Scripture tells us he is a righteous man. His righteousness is shown not in harsh judgment, but in mercy. He plans to dismiss Mary quietly, protecting her from shame. Advent reminds us that God often meets us not in moments of clarity, but in moments of uncertainty. Joseph teaches us that faithful people do not ignore reality, instead they bring their reality before God.

II. Faith Listens to God’s Word

In the midst of Joseph’s uncertainty, God speaks. An angel appears in a dream and says, “Do not be afraid.” This is a familiar Advent message. God does not remove the risk; God offers reassurance.

Joseph is told that the child is from the Holy Spirit and that his name will be Jesus, “God saves.” God gives Joseph not all the details, but enough truth to trust. Joseph listens. This is where his faith mirrors Mary’s. Mary said, “Let it be with me according to your word.” Joseph responds the same way, not with words, but with obedience. He believes that God’s word is more reliable than his fear. Faith, especially in Advent, means learning to listen to Scripture, to God’s Spirit, and to God’s call, even when the future remains unclear.

III. Faith Chooses Obedient Action

When Joseph wakes up, Matthew tells us something simple and powerful: “He did as the angel of the Lord commanded him.” Joseph’s faith is not just internal; it becomes visible through action. He takes Mary as his wife. He accepts the child. He names him Jesus. By doing this, Joseph publicly aligns himself with God’s plan. This is costly faith. Joseph risks misunderstanding, gossip, and loss of control over his life. Yet he chooses obedience because he trusts that God is at work. Joseph’s decision stands alongside Mary’s decision. Together, they show us that God’s salvation enters the world through ordinary people who say yes in extraordinary circumstances. Advent invites us to the same choice: to trust God’s word and to act on it, even when the path ahead is uncertain.

Conclusion

On this Fourth Sunday of Advent, Joseph reminds us that faith is not about having all the answers. It is about trusting God enough to take the next step. Like Joseph, and like Mary, may we choose faith over fear, trust over certainty, and obedience over control, as we prepare our hearts to welcome Christ.

Amen.

Matthew 11:2–11 – Third Sunday of Advent (Joy)

The Third Sunday of Advent is known as the Sunday of Joy, yet the Gospel reading may surprise us. We meet John the Baptist not in celebration, but in prison, sending a question to Jesus: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Advent joy does not begin with easy answers or perfect circumstances. Instead, it begins with the courage to hope even when joy feels distant. This Sunday reminds us that Christian joy is not the absence of struggle, but the presence of trust in God’s unfolding work.

When Joy Is Tested
John’s question reveals a faith under pressure. He had announced the coming Messiah with confidence, yet now finds himself waiting in chains. His experience mirrors our own moments when joy is tested by disappointment, uncertainty, or unanswered prayers. Advent does not deny these realities. Rather, it proclaims that joy can coexist with doubt. True joy is not shallow optimism; it is a deep assurance that God is still faithful, even when our expectations are challenged.

The Joyful Signs of God’s Kingdom
Jesus responds to John by pointing to what is happening: the blind see, the lame walk, the sick are healed, the dead are raised, and the poor hear good news. These signs are reasons for joy. They reveal that God’s kingdom is already breaking into the world, bringing restoration where there was brokenness. Joy in Advent is found not in spectacle or power, but in lives being healed, dignity being restored, and hope being renewed, often quietly, but faithfully.

Joy That Trusts God’s Way
Jesus adds a gentle blessing: “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” This is an invitation to joy rooted in trust. God’s work may not unfold according to our timelines or expectations, yet it is no less real. Advent joy grows when we learn to recognize God’s presence in unexpected ways. It is the joy of those who trust that God is at work, even when the path forward is unclear.

Conclusion
As Jesus speaks to the crowd, he honors John as a great prophet, faithful even in uncertainty. The Third Sunday of Advent calls us to rejoice not because all questions are answered, but because Christ is among us. Our joy is grounded in the promise that God’s healing, mercy, and grace continue to shape the world. As we wait, we rejoice, confident that the One who comes brings light, life, and lasting joy.

Matthew 3:1-12 - Second Sunday of Advent - Peace

Beloved, today we arrive at the Second Sunday of Advent, the Sunday of Peace. We light a candle that promises calm, comfort, and the quiet presence of God. And then… we meet John the Baptist. Not exactly the peaceful figure we expect. John comes to us not in a soft robe or with gentle words, but “in the wilderness,” dressed in camel’s hair, eating locusts. His voice is fierce, his message direct: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

At first glance, nothing about John looks peaceful. But maybe that is exactly why the church invites us to meet him every Second Sunday of Advent. Because sometimes The voices that shake us awake, that call us to change, that ask us to prepare our hearts for the coming Christ. 

Today, I’d like to invite you to look closely at three aspects of John’s personality, and how each one teaches us something essential about Advent peace.

1. John the Baptist: a Voice in the Wilderness – Peace begins in the quiet places

Matthew tells us that John appears “in the wilderness of Judea.” The wilderness is a lonely place, stripped of distraction, stripped of comfort. It is where Israel learned to trust God. It is where prophets found their voice. And it is where John chose to stand. John did not go to Jerusalem, to the Temple, or to positions of influence. He preached away from everything familiar, and yet people went to him in great numbers. Why?

Because in the wilderness, their hearts could finally hear the truth.

Advent invites us into a small wilderness of our own. Not a physical desert, but an inner space where we set aside noise, hurry, and distraction.

A place where God can speak again. Peace begins not when life is calm, but when we actually make space for God’s voice. I wonder today:

Where is our wilderness?
Where can we step back, just a little, to hear God calling us?

2. John the Truth-Teller – Peace requires repentance

John’s first word is not “comfort,” but “repent.” Repentance is not about shame; it is about turning around toward a new direction, a fresh beginning. John speaks honestly, even harshly. He calls the religious leaders a “brood of vipers.” He exposes hypocrisy. He reminds them, and us, that true peace is not pretending everything is fine. There is no peace without truth. Advent asks us to be honest: What in my life needs to change? Where do I need to turn back toward God? What burden, habit, bitterness, or fear is draining my peace?

Repentance is not a punishment. It is an invitation to start again. John reminds us that God’s peace grows in soil that is honest, humble, and willing to change.

3. John the Prophet of Holy Fire – Peace through transformation

John gives us one of the strongest images in the Gospel: “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

Fire can burn, but it can also purify, refine, and make new. John is telling us that Jesus comes not only to comfort us, but to transform us.

And transformation is the doorway to peace. Sometimes God’s peace begins with God removing things from our lives: fear, resentment, greed, empty religion, pride. Sometimes God’s peace comes when God strengthens us inside, setting us free to live with courage and hope.

The refining fire of the Holy Spirit does not destroy us. It restores us.

Advent peace is not soft or sentimental.
It is God making us whole again.

Conclusion: Preparing for the Prince of Peace

So today, through John the Baptist, we learn that Advent Peace comes to us in four ways:

1. Silence – listening in the wilderness.
2. Honesty – the gift of repentance.
3. Transformation – the refining fire of the Holy Spirit.
   

John is not the peaceful figure we expect, but he is the one we need. His voice clears a path for Jesus to enter our hearts.

May this Advent be a time when we hear that voice in our own wilderness.
May we repent with joy.
May we point others to Christ.
And may the Holy Spirit refine us until peace takes root deep within us.