2026.01.11 | Inspire, Ignite, Illuminate
“Inspire, Ignite, Illuminate”
A sermon preached at Eden United Church of Christ
in Hayward, California,
on Sunday, January 11, 2026,
by the Rev. Brenda Loreman.
Second Sunday of Epiphany
Scripture: Matthew 3:13-17
The first Sunday after Epiphany has traditionally been reserved in the church for remembering and celebrating the baptism of Jesus. It follows directly after the celebration of the visit of the Magi and, along with a celebration of Jesus’s first miracle of turning water to wine at Cana, is one of three feasts of light that emphasize the revelation of Jesus to the world. Throughout this season, light and revelation are emphasized in the Bible readings and rituals that are traditionally shared in the church during Epiphany. And the season closes with the story of the Transfiguration—that mountaintop experience where Jesus appears in glory to three of the disciples, alongside images of Moses and Elijah. Epiphany is a season that moves us from the soft light of the manger and the magi following the light of the star to Jesus telling his disciples—and us—“You are the light of the world.” (1)
In the ancient church, these early feasts of Epiphany and Christ’s Baptism and miracle of the wine were considered much more important feasts than that of Christmas—which seems awfully strange to us now, who spend so much time and energy preparing for and celebrating Advent and Christmas. But I think the ancient church was on to something. Rather than just marking time between Christmas and Lent—a sort of “liturgical placeholder,” as theologian Diana Butler Bass calls it—this season is instead an “invitation to discover grace, goodness, and God.” It “beckons us to pay attention and participate in widening the circle of light in the world—to push back against all brittle injustice and brutality.” (2) It calls us to be inspired and inspire others, to ignite the light of Christ in ourselves and then to carry that light and illuminate the world.
It also calls us to see “the extraordinary in the everyday.” Some Christians consider Epiphany as part of “ordinary time,” but there’s nothing really ordinary about it. In each of the gospel stories that are most often read during this season, “[w]hat seems ordinary is revealed as something extraordinary. A baptism turns into a divine announcement; water becomes wine; reading holy words introduces a prophet of the Kingdom; a day’s laborious fishing breaks the nets with a great catch; the poor are blessed; and love, mercy, and forgiveness are offered not to friends, but to those who seek to do us harm.”
Epiphany is the winter ice cracking underfoot. “The frozen world starts giving way to something else—the branches sparkle in the moonlight, a star leads to a barn. [...] We begin to wonder: Maybe every baptism announces God’s love. Maybe water has always been wine. Maybe we are all prophets of liberation. Maybe every day’s work holds abundance. The poor and sad and persecuted have always been the blessed.” (3)
Each year, the lectionary readings for this Sunday highlight one of the three synoptic gospels’ accounts of Jesus being baptized by John in the Jordan River. The basic outline of the story is similar in all three of the gospels, but Matthew’s version adds an interesting twist to the story. In Matthew’s version, as Jesus approaches John to be baptized, John at first refuses. “‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ [John says.] But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.’” (4) Then John consents, and Jesus is baptized. When you consider what John was preaching, it is surprising that Jesus would feel the need to be baptized. In all three gospels, John is preaching baptism as a rite of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, at yet Jesus, who is said to be sinless and not in need of repentance, the one whom God is about to call “Beloved,” gets in line with the rest of us.
This is, as theologian Matthew Boulton suggests:
“An expression of the astonishing humility and solidarity of the Incarnation: in Jesus, God is with us, even to the point of joining us in a rite of repentance, confession, and renewal. Following a teacher like this would mean setting out with him on that path of humility and solidarity, truthfulness and grace, the way of love with which God is “well pleased.” The way of companionship. The way of accompaniment. In a word, the way of ‘with”’ God with us, and us with God and neighbor.
This perspective also helps fill out why John the Baptizer isn’t just reluctant, but also downright perplexed and disoriented when Jesus approaches him to be baptized. He protests, Wait a minute, shouldn’t this be the other way around? But that’s just it: Jesus has come to turn conventional religious ideas on their head. The one with whom God is ‘well pleased’ doesn’t so much come ‘from on high’ as ‘from below’ or ‘from alongside,’ standing with us in solidarity—so that in the end, our baptism isn’t only by Jesus, it’s also with Jesus and in Jesus.
And in turn, this standing-with-us in humility, solidarity, and love fills out what Jesus means by ‘proper’ and ‘all righteousness’ in his response to John. The Way of Jesus is a way of coming alongside our neighbors for the sake of our common life together. Genuine ‘righteousness’ means setting aside ‘self-righteousness’ once and for all.” (5)
Following the Way of Jesus means being part of the Body of Christ. And because we are part of the Body of Christ, it’s not just Jesus to whom God says, “You are my beloved child, with you I am well pleased.” These words are also addressed to us. This is the good news of baptism. We have been given an incomparable gift as beloved children of God. And because of this, we are called to be the light in the world, to “witness to peace in a cruel and violent world and bring a message of hope in the face of despair. Whatever the worldly powers may be—Roman rulers or contemporary dictators, corrupt [oligarchs] or [...] war profiteers—Christians are called to witness to another, greater power. Our baptisms mark us for this purpose.” (6)
I have to confess that I really struggled with writing a sermon this week—especially one intended to focus on the light of God breaking into the world. These first 11 days of the year have already been full of events so terrifying and horrific that I fear turning on the news in the morning. My stomach is in knots after watching the videos of the killing of Renee Good and listening to the soundbites of cruel and authoritarian rhetoric coming from our government. It’s been hard to write about light and the promise of baptism in the face of this.
But I was reminded this week of the baptismal vows that are said by most Christians at baptism—either by the parents of a child being baptized, or by the baptismal candidates themselves. These vows are ancient, and have probably been recited in similar form for nearly as long as the Christian church has existed. The United Church of Christ liturgy has softened the language a bit, but the essential words remain. Here are the vows, in the form of questions asked to candidates:
“Do you renounce the powers of evil and desire the freedom of new life in Christ?”
“Do you profess Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior?”
“Do you promise, by the graces of God, to be Christ’s disciple, to follow in the way of our Savior, to resist oppression and evil, to show love and justice, and to witness to the work and word of Jesus Christ as best you’re able?”
“Do you promise, according to the grace given you, to grow in the Christian faith and to be a faithful member of the church of Jesus Christ, celebrating Christ’s presence and furthering Christ’s mission in all the world?”
These promises, made on my behalf by my parents at my baptism and affirmed by me when I was confirmed, and reaffirmed with every church I’ve joined since, are the promises I needed to recommit to as the evil unfolded this week. I am definitely in a mood to renounce evil this week.
And evil is present, here in our world, and even in the extraordinary season of Epiphany. It is lurking behind all the Epiphany stories: The magi visit, but Herod slaughters children; Jesus’s baptism happens in the shadow of John’s arrest and death; the proclamation of the Kingdom leads to an angry mob that tries to throw Jesus off a cliff; Blessings are followed by woes; the call for mercy and forgiveness is met with a plot to do away with Jesus. (7)
At baptism, we promise to turn from oppression and evil and embrace love and justice as our path. Epiphany—this season of light—calls us again to reclaim those promises and carry them like a lantern into the world.
This weekend I read a statement that Becca Good, Renee’s wife, put out about her spouse. In it, she said that Renee was “made of sunshine” and that “kindness radiated out of her.” She was a Christian who lived by the belief that “there is kindness in the world and we need to do everything we can to find it where it resides and nurture it where it needs to grow” and that “we are here to love each other, care for each other, and keep each other safe and whole.” Renee Good lived out her baptismal promises. She showed up for her neighbors. In the snow of winter, she radiated the warmth of kindness and Christian love. In the season of Epiphany, she carried the light. May we do the same. Amen.
Diana Butler Bass, A Beautiful Year (New York: St. Martin’s, 2025), 71.
Ibid, 74.
Ibid., 77.
Matthew 3:14-15, NRSVUE
Matthew Myer Boulton, “The Way of With: SALT's Commentary on Jesus' Baptism,” the Salt Project Blog, January 5, 2026. https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2020/1/8/the-way-of-love-salts-lectionary-commentary-on-jesus-baptism Accessed on January 6, 2026.
Kathleen Norris, “Marked for a purpose: Isaiah 42:1-9; Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17,” The Christian Century, December 25, 2007. https://www.christiancentury.org/article/2007-12/marked-purpose Accessed January 6, 2026.
Butler Bass, ibid., 78.