Epiphany 2A 2026

THE REV. E. WAYNE ROLLINS

​ These Sundays in January always feature call stories. We hear of Jesus’ calling the first disciples, who will make up that group known as “the twelve.” Today we also hear a somewhat different call story, that of the second prophet named Isaiah. It’s not as dramatic as the call of Isaiah number one, but it is a substantial message. 

This prophet isn’t just about calling the descendants of Jacob, named Israel, back into their proper covenant relationship with God. His call is much broader: 
“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.” 

We can spend a lot of time on that shift of focus and our presumed interpretations of it. Since a colleague once said she learned in seminary that a sermon should be about two things—it should be about God, and it should be about ten minutes—I’ll jump to the point. 
I want you to consider your own call. Yes, I know we speak that language when we talk about ordained ministry. But we each have times we remember and things we do with our lives that seem much more fulfilling than others. Consider, then, that those moments identify to you the substance of your own “call.” By that, I mean your purpose in life. 

But that, too, is too little a thing. Not that it doesn’t matter, but as followers of Jesus, whom we believe to be The Christ, The Messiah, we live in relationship with each other in ways that extend our personal call stories into a much broader emphasis. 

So, Immanuel Highlands, what is your call? What is your purpose, your reason for being where we are at this particular time? It is too light a thing to focus only on finances or property maintenance. That can be done in pretty much the same way if we didn’t gather here at all, because that emphasis would be the same for other stately, though quasi-religious buildings in other places. We call those mausoleums. 

The call of Jesus of Nazareth is a call to new life. Notice that those he called left what they were doing, and whom they were doing it with, and set out in search of an answer to his invitation to “come and see.” Second Isaiah pretty much faced the same journey. He didn’t know exactly what being a light to the nations might mean, but he had an idea that it was something far greater than setting Israel back on the right course as they anticipate leaving exile to return to what’s left of what they call “home.” 

So, using Jesus’ words, what do you expect others to find when you invite them to “come and see?” First, we have to move beyond the art gallery idea regarding windows and architecture. We are not docents. We are disciples. To drive the point home, answer another question. When did you last make a return visit, let alone a weekly visit, to a familiar art gallery or museum? 

Maybe we are the ones who need to seek the answer to “come and see.” Maybe our complacency, even apathy that things will just keep going along the same as they have for decades, has blinded us to the answer we need to risk finding before we can even begin inviting others to join us. 

Maybe we need to rediscover the life we once found, that still exists, although in different revelations, when we first came and saw. Maybe we haven’t seen for ourselves even yet. But we have many travelers, seekers, if you will, who have joined our journey along the way, so we're not alone. Giving how God often works, they might be the ones who point out to us what was right before our eyes all the time. 
We may go forward in ways we hardly imagined. But if we fail to step out because we fear where we might go, then we risk being little more than the museum or mausoleum others want to avoid. 

I’ve often asked “why are we here?” It’s time to ask loudly, “why should we remain here?” The answer begins to become clearer when we dare to come and see the truth of where we are. 

Are we a light to the Highlands neighborhood? Do our neighbors really care whether we’re here? Or do they stay away because they know we’re here and for some reason don’t want to be part of us? I’ve known the answer to each of those questions to be “yes” in different places. 

We must consider that same answer for ourselves, and if true, begin another task one of the Isaiahs sets before us. Be a repairer of the breach. More to come.