2nd Sunday after the Epiphany – Mark S. Winward
Have you ever wondered what it really means to be “Church”? Not in the abstract, but in a way that gives weight to why we have gathered here this morning—why prayer, Scripture, sacrament, and fellowship matter at all. If the Church is merely a human institution, then what we do risks becoming little more than habit or sentiment. But if the Church is something God brings into being—something alive in Christ—then our gathering has eternal significance.
This morning’s Gospel from John takes us back to the very beginnings of the Church, before buildings, hierarchies, or denominational divisions. We see simple encounters: testimony, invitation, recognition, and response. John the Baptist points to Jesus. Andrew follows. Andrew brings Simon. And Jesus gives Simon a new name: Cephas—Peter, the rock.
That naming has echoed through Christian history. Peter’s new name signals stability, responsibility, and vocation. It points forward to the Church taking shape, stone by stone, through human lives called and transformed by Christ. Yet from this moment has also flowed deep disagreement about what the Church is meant to be and how it is to be held together.
Christians have long differed over whether Jesus intended, in naming Peter, to establish a concrete and enduring structure of authority in the world, or whether he was pointing more fundamentally to a spiritual reality that transcends any one institution. Roman Catholic theology sees in Peter’s naming the seed of a visible, unified Church, safeguarded through apostolic succession and pastoral authority. Reformed traditions have insisted that no earthly structure can fully contain or guarantee the Church’s faithfulness, which belongs ultimately to Christ alone. Anglicans have historically tried to hold these truths together: affirming the importance of visible order and continuity, while resisting the idea that any single office or institution can claim absolute authority over Christ’s Body.
These differences matter. They shape how Christians understand authority, Scripture, sacraments, and unity. But they can also distract us if we allow them to eclipse the deeper question: what does it mean to live as the Church here and now, under the lordship of Jesus Christ?
The New Testament itself reminds us that being “Church” has never been synonymous with institutional perfection. Peter, the rock, was also the disciple who misunderstood Jesus, denied him, and had to be confronted by Paul when he failed to live in step with the Gospel. Paul, writing to the church in Corinth, does not address an ideal organization but a conflicted, divided community—and yet he still calls them “those sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints.” The Church has always been holy and broken at the same time.
Jesus himself repeatedly warns that it is possible to preserve the outward forms of religion while missing its heart. Institutions can endure even when faith grows thin. Throughout history, the Church has had to repent, reform, and rediscover what it means to belong to Christ rather than to its own habits or power. That struggle is not a failure of the Gospel; it is the ongoing work of grace among imperfect people.
Against that background, today’s Gospel shows us what the Church looks like when it is faithful to its calling.
First, the Church is a community that unashamedly confesses who Jesus is. John the Baptist does not point to himself, his movement, or his authority. He points to Jesus and names him plainly: the Lamb of God, the Son of God. Faith, in John’s Gospel, is never merely private or internal. It speaks. It bears witness. A Church that forgets how to name Jesus loses its reason for being.
Second, the Church proclaims not only who Jesus is, but what he does. John announces Jesus as the one who takes away the sin of the world—not just individual guilt, but the power that binds, isolates, and deforms human life. Where Christ is known, people are drawn into healing, forgiveness, and restored relationship. The Church exists not to manage sin, but to announce that sin’s dominion has been broken.
Third, the Church is a community that sends people into lives of discipleship. John’s testimony does not end with admiration or assent; it leads others to follow Jesus. Andrew does not keep his encounter to himself—he brings his brother. Genuine faith always moves outward. To follow Christ is to be drawn into fellowship with him, and from that fellowship to be sent into the world for the sake of others.
This is why we are here. Not because the Church has already arrived at perfection, but because Christ continues to call, heal, and send his people. We gather as those still being formed, still being named anew by the Lord who knows us better than we know ourselves.
We fall short. We argue. We disappoint one another. The earthly Church still awaits its full redemption. And yet, even now, Christ is present among his people—speaking, forgiving, feeding, and sending. To be the Church is not to claim purity or supremacy, but to remain faithful to that call: to confess Christ, to proclaim his transforming grace, and to follow him together into the world he came to redeem.