A Sermon for the Second Sunday after the Epiphany (Year A)
Service of Installation for the Brotherhood of St. Andrew
January 18, 2026
Text: John 1:29-42
Now, O Lord, take my lips, and speak through them. Take our minds, and think through them. Take our hearts, and set them on fire. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Have you ever had something happen to you that was so exciting that you just had to share it with someone? Maybe it was a trip you took to a place you had never been before. Or maybe it was a delicious meal at a new restaurant or a movie you recently watched that moved you. Or maybe it was an experience that changed your life in some way or opened your eyes to new ideas and new perspectives.
And after it was all said and done, you just couldn’t wait to share it with someone—anyone—maybe a close friend or family member or even a simple post on your Facebook page.
I’ve had plenty of experiences like that before—some big, some small—and as I was reflecting on my sermon for this week, I came to realize that the most life-changing experiences of my life—the ones I’ve wanted to share with the most people—all have to do with camp.
Whether it was attending a Cursillo weekend or leading a week-long summer camp program down at Camp Beckwith for a bunch of kids, those are the experiences that come to mind first.
Those are the ones where I come home renewed and energized and excited to share stories about what happened and why it was so meaningful.
We’ve all had moments and experiences like that.
We’ve all experienced things that bring us so much joy that it’s hard to keep it to ourselves.
And I think—at least at some level—it’s because we have this basic, human instinct to share things about ourselves with other people—especially those things that excite us.
When you think about it, it makes perfect sense.
God created us for relationship, and one of the best ways we can build relationships with other people is by sharing with them the things that bring us the most joy—the things that matter to us most.
I want us to hold on to that idea because I think it has a lot to do with today’s Gospel lesson and the call of the first disciples.
Today’s reading comes from the first chapter of John’s Gospel.
Now, John doesn’t begin his Gospel with the story of Jesus’ birth, like it does in Matthew and Luke.
It begins with a beautiful, poetic prologue—and speaks of Jesus as the Word of God which came down from heaven to be a light for the whole world—the True Light that no darkness can overcome.
And from there, John 1 quickly moves to the introduction of John the Baptist, the one who was sent by God as a witness to testify to the Light so that all might believe through him.
And that’s where our reading picks up today.
Today’s lesson begins, not with Jesus at the center, but with John the Baptist standing at the Jordan River.
There’s a large crowd gathered around him.
People have come from far and wide to hear him preach, to confess their sins, and to be baptized.
There’s a sense of urgency in his message—a sense that something new is about to happen.
And yet, for all the attention to be focused on him, he’s very clear about one thing: it’s not about him.
Again and again, John the Baptist tells the crowd that he’s been called by God to be a witness. His only purpose is to draw everyone’s focus toward another—toward the one who is coming after him.
And then one day, Jesus walks by.
John sees him approaching and says the words that set everything else in motion: “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”
With that simple declaration, the attention turns toward Jesus. John steps back so that Jesus can step forward and begin his ministry.
Two of John’s disciples hear what he says, and instead of staying where they are, they decide to follow Jesus.
They walk behind him, unsure of what they’re looking for, but captivated none the less.
Then, Jesus turns and asks a simple question.
“What are you looking for?”
And instead of answering Jesus, they ask him, “Rabbi, where are you staying?”
Jesus doesn’t offer any explanation.
He simply says, “Come and see.”
One of those disciples is Andrew.
John doesn’t tell us exactly why Andrew and the other disciple decided to follow Jesus.
The Gospel gives us no explanation—only the sense that something amazing must have happened in their encounter with Jesus that changed their lives forever.
Because what’s the very first thing Andrew does after meeting Jesus?
He goes and finds his brother, Simon, and brings him to meet Jesus.
Andrew doesn’t keep the Good News to himself.
He shares it.
He invites his brother to come and see for himself this amazing thing that’s happened.
Andrew serves as an example for all of us of how we’re called to share the Gospel.
We don’t have to try and sell it.
We don’t have to persuade anyone or try to convince them with prepared speeches.
All we have to do is extend the invitation.
“Come and see.”
Come and see for yourself the love of Jesus and how following him will change your life.
It’s the example of Andrew that I want to lift up today—not only because it’s in our lesson from John but also because this morning, we’re celebrating the birth of a new ministry at St. Mary’s—the Brotherhood of St. Andrew.
And I thought I might take a few minutes this morning to share with you a little bit about this new ministry and how it all began.
On November 30, 1883–The Feast of St. Andrew—a small group of young men gathered at St. James Church in Chicago.
They gathered, not to start a new group or to launch a movement, but to simply pray together and study Scripture.
Most of them were teenagers, around seventeen years old. They weren’t priests. They weren’t church leaders. They were young men, trying to figure out what it means to follow Jesus in the world around them.
They believed that the work of evangelism—the work of inviting others into a relationship with Jesus—belonged not just to clergy and missionaries, but to all Christians.
Their vision was simple. They didn’t use fancy programs or strategies. They relied on relationships. They prayed together. They studied the Bible together, and they invited others to join them.
In other words, they followed the example of Andrew.
And something remarkable happened.
That small group of men who gathered for prayer and Bible study quickly grew. Within just a few years, other groups started forming across the country.
Young men and boys gathered in churches, homes, and meeting halls to pray, study the Bible, and encourage one another in faith. They took seriously the idea that the way they live their lives—their words and actions—should point others toward Christ.
Within a decade, this movement had spread beyond the United States into other countries like England, Japan, and even China. What began as a handful of teenagers praying together on St. Andrew’s Day became an international movement of Christian witness and discipleship.
By 1908, the movement was formally incorporated by an act of the United States Congress and signed into law by President Theodore Roosevelt. It read: “The sole object of said corporation shall be the spread of Christ’s Kingdom among men.”
That movement came to be known as the Brotherhood of St. Andrew—named not after a renowned preacher or theologian, but after a disciple whose quiet faith was lived out by inviting others to experience the love of God in Christ Jesus.
That legacy continues today at St. Mary’s as we begin a new chapter of the Brotherhood and install our first members.
Today, we’re affirming a new call to ministry:
A call to prayer.
A call to service.
A call to grow deeper in faith and discipleship.
And a call to live lives that faithfully and authentically point others toward Jesus.
Our new Brothers aren’t being called to be perfect.
They’re being invited to follow Jesus more deeply—and to help create a space where others can follow him, too.
Like Andrew, they’re being called to trust that faith grows, not through pressure or fear, but through relationship. That Christ is revealed not only through words, but through lives shaped by love, humility, and service.
And the truth is, dear friends, is that this calling is not just for the Brothers of St. Andrew.
It’s for all of us.
All of us have people in our lives—family members, friends, neighbors, coworkers—people who know us well enough to know what matters to us most. People who are watching the way we go about our lives to see how faith shapes the way we live.
We may not be called to stand in a pulpit or lead a Bible study.
We might not think of ourselves as evangelists.
But we can live our lives open and honest enough that others become curious.
Curious enough to ask questions about where we find such joy and peace in our lives.
Curious enough to wonder why this Jesus is so important and how he’s changed our lives forever.
In the words of that old, beloved hymn:
“If you cannot preach like Peter and you cannot pray like Paul, just tell the love of Jesus, how he died to save us all.”
All it takes is one simple invitation.
“Come and see.”
Amen.
