Sermon for Sunday, January 18, 2026

January 18, 2026
By Kristin Berkey-Abbott



John 1:29-42


In the Gospel of John, we don’t see the baptism of Jesus the way we do in the other Gospels. In the other three Gospels, we observe the baptism itself. In the Gospel of John, but we don’t see it as it happens, but we do hear about it—here, in today’s reading, through the testimony of John the Baptist. Today’s Gospel reading gives us the testimony of John the Baptist, and it also offers essential questions that can point us to a more faithful life.


We might think of testimony, not questions, as the way that souls are saved, and we get testimony in today’s reading. In the Gospel of John, we find out about the baptism of Jesus because of John the Baptist’s testimony; in short, readers and hearers of the Gospel find out about it secondhand, unlike the other 3 gospels.


Then, John the Baptist has a chance to do what he has urged others to do. He has spent his ministry preparing himself and others for the one to come—and now, here he is, the Messiah, Jesus. When Jesus walks by, John points him out to his own disciples. In essence, John the Baptist is handing over his ministry to Jesus. He’s giving up his power, something we almost never see in human life. John could have claimed the title for himself, and if you go back to earlier passages that aren’t included in today’s reading, earlier in the first chapter of the book of John, we see religious leaders asking John the Baptist the same questions they will later ask Jesus: “Who are you anyway? Are you the messiah, the one we’ve been waiting for?” It’s a question that we still ask: are you the one who is able to deliver us from this oppressive regime?


John is very clear: he says, “I am not the Messiah. I am not even worthy to untie his sandals.” Think about how easy it would have been for him to say, “Yep. I’m the Messiah. Give me all your money. I am the one you’ve been waiting for—worship me regardless of what I do or say.”


Fortunately, John knows his role in the story—he is not the Messiah, as he reminds people again and again. His role is to prepare people for someone greater than himself and to point to the Messiah, which he does faithfully. One Bible commentary that I read this week pointed out that while many of us like to ask the question “What would Jesus do?”—an equally compelling question would be “What Would John the Baptist do?” While it’s not as easy to put on those rubbery bracelets that were once so popular, it’s the central question that leads to faithful lives. What are we doing to align ourselves to the work of John the Baptist? What are we doing to point others to the Messiah?


Jesus asks another central question that can lead to faithful lives: “What are you looking for?” We have a sense of what John the Baptist and his disciples wanted: deliverance, change, the long-awaited Messiah. What’s less clear is what kind of Messiah they had in mind.


Christians know that they’ve found a savior in Jesus, so we might think the question is no longer relevant. But considering the question from all directions is a fruitful spiritual practice.


What are we looking for? We might long for a time not so long ago when everyone went to church; we might say we need deliverance from the misguided society, in whatever ways we think our current society isn’t living right, acting right, in our right minds. Or maybe we are the ones not living the righteous lives that we yearn to experience. Maybe we have habits that we’d like saving from or relationships where we need a savior to come and offer redemption. Maybe we once had a sense of where we were going, but we feel like we’ve lost our way.


Notice the response of Jesus. I’ve read this passage numerous times through the years, and I always focused on Jesus saying, “Come and see”: come and see where Jesus is living, come and see what Jesus is doing. As I returned to the passage earlier this week, I was struck by this sentence: “They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day.” An earlier translation says they abided with him. Think of that, an afternoon to simply be with Jesus. Not going and doing, but being.


Wouldn’t you love to have been a fly on the wall to observe that afternoon of abiding with Jesus? And we might ask, why don’t we get a record of what happened? It seems important, especially when we hear that Andrew goes out to find his brother. It must have been compelling: Andrew says, “We have found the Messiah.” What did Jesus say? What did Jesus do? In just a few short hours, Andrew is ready to commit to Jesus and to testify to others. How can he be so sure?


Well, for one thing, he’s had a good teacher in John the Baptist. In the Gospel of John, much of the first chapter is devoted to John the Baptist, who has drawn people out into the wilderness for baptism. Some of them don’t go back to their old lives. Perhaps living this discipleship with John the Baptist has prepared Andrew for a new level of discipleship with Jesus.


Or maybe something else happens that afternoon, when two of John the Baptist’s disciples follow Jesus home and never leave him again. They experience the peace of abiding in the true savior. Jesus knows what he’s offering when he says, “Come and see.” The writer of the Gospel of John can assume that we, too, will know what Jesus is offering—perhaps that’s why we don’t get an accounting of what happened that afternoon, because the Gospel itself is a testimony to the Messiah, who has come to be with us.


What will others see when they look at our lives as a testimony and a witness? That’s the third question that emerges from today’s reading. What do people see when they look at our lives? People pay attention to our actions. If our actions don't match our words, people don't accept our words. But it's worse: people see us as hypocrites, one of those Christian types they hate so much. But wait, it's even worse: if our actions habitually don't match our words, people begin to assume that ALL Christians are hypocrites. And the worst might happen if we say we are committing evil in God’s name and we actually do it—what do people learn about God from those actions?


Happily, those of us hearing this sermon are not likely to go out to commit atrocities in the name of Christ. Happily, those of us hearing this sermon are much more likely to live lives that make others want to know what we’ve discovered.


We are surrounded by examples of people who have lived faithful lives that have borne witness to Jesus. There’s this church, of course, the people here in the pews, and the ones who have come before us. Tomorrow we have a federal holiday to celebrate a 20th century faithful disciple, the Reverand Martin Luther King, Jr., who began his adult life following in the footsteps of his father, the Reverand Martin Luther King, Sr.—both men were Baptist ministers.


In any time when I feel despair about the violence in the world, I remember the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his approach of nonviolent resistance rooted in love. It’s a social justice movement that transformed the world, encouraging other oppressed groups to work to ensure that their rights were protected. It’s a movement that led to more of us having more opportunities with more doors opening. It’s a movement that led me to be here, as your minister. Most of us are old enough to remember a time when women could be Sunday School teachers, but not church council presidents or ministers, jobs that went to men. And now, we acknowledge that God calls a much wider variety of humans to ministries of various sorts.


That change happened in our lifetimes. And now, if one of our youth members of the church decided to go down the path of ordination, it won’t be as hard. We will have prepared the ground, in the way that John the Baptist did, by pointing the way to Jesus. We will have planted the seeds, by living lives of faithful witness, lives which inspire people to go and bring others back with them.


Our lives of faithful witness may lead us to big and bold actions, like the ones that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. inspired. Our actions may be on a smaller scale: visiting the sick or teaching a group of students or saying kind words to those who are having a rough time. Undergirding our actions, an active prayer life can keep us connected to our Creator who yearns for each part of creation to experience a life that is oriented towards flourishing, not towards withering.

We’re surrounded by lives of faithful witness that show us what can happen when we decide to be like John the Baptist, pointing people to the Messiah, when we commit to following Jesus, saying “Come and see” to those who yearn for a different world, a world where power is used responsibly, where we are pointed to the one who is better qualified to lead and redeem us.


These are the essential questions: what would Jesus do? What would John the Baptist do? What can we do? Begin that work, continue that work, today and every day.