Light that Calls Us Forward
Excerpt of “The Light that Calls Us Forward” preached January 18, 2026
1 Corinthians 1:1-9 | John 1:29-42
Teresa of Avila was a sixteenth-century Spanish mystic, who in her later years composed a poem that has become a foundational piece of theology centered around the incarnation of Christ — Christ among us. I’d like to read for us this morning as we begin:
“Christ has no body but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes with which he looks with compassion on this world, yours are the feet with which he walks to do good yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours, yours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”
It’s a poem that encourages the church to continue the work of Christ. Typically this poem would be read during Eastertide, or perhaps in the season after Pentecost — focusing on the Holy Spirit working among God’s people to be the hands and feet of Jesus. And I’ll be honest, it’s a wild idea for me to read it just two weeks into the season after Epiphany. As I’ve been studying these passages and reading this week, I came across this poem again. And in the context of both scriptures this morning, I think this poem sets the stage quite well for us.
In our first passage, we have Paul writing to the church at Corinth that is not doing well — there are factions among the people and the church is splintering. And then we have the Gospel of John where John the Baptist saw Jesus describe the moment of baptism that we celebrated and remembered last week, “I saw the Spirit come down from heaven as a dove and remain on him. And I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptism with water told me, ‘The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ I have seen and I testify that this is God’s Chosen One.” And then Jesus begins his journey in the Gospel of John — not in the wilderness, but among the people and in the process, two disciples began following Jesus and then they invited Simon by simply telling him, they had found the Messiah.
It’s interesting that the two following Jesus called him, “Rabbi” which means teacher. But, Jesus didn’t invite them into some deeper conversation or even preach to them to give them wisdom. Instead, Jesus invited them to experience life with him, inviting them on a much deeper and more intimate journey.
With this in mind, I think a question for us to wrestle with this morning is, what was the Spirit up to? Because something was happening to pique the curiosity and courage that was stirring among the people for three men — grown men with families, jobs, responsibilities — to drop everything and follow Jesus simply because he said, “Come and see.” Going with Christ to see where he was staying and how he was living — acting on that invitation of Christ, was something they felt deep within their bones that they must do because the Spirit was at work. It was the grace of God that called them forward.
The opening line in our text from 1 Corinthians is how Paul begins his first letter to the church in Corinth. And his first phrase, right out of the gate, holds so much depth: “Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God.” The irony — the pure irony of this phrase can only be summarized by the work of the Holy Spirit. At that time, Paul was known as Saul, and was the one who hated Christians, hated them so much that he persecuted and killed them. Paul’s conversion story is one of the most dynamic stories of perhaps the entire New Testament.
Paul not only sees the literal light of Christ, but is blinded by the light, relying solely on Christ for his journey ahead. Paul knows the significance and power of the Christian community because it is through that community with Ananias that he was able to see and gain strength again. He went from the one who persecuted Christians to leading the churches all over: encouraging them, strengthening them, correcting them, and giving thanks for them.
I share Paul’s conversion with you because it’s the backdrop behind everything he does and in everything he believes. It’s a pretty bold claim to make that they did not lack any spiritual gift as they await Christ to be revealed to them. In fact, there’s a lot of bold claims that Paul makes to them — they have been enriched with speech and knowledge, for example. However, Paul wasn’t making this up as he went. He wasn’t making generalizations or trying to puff them up a bit only to tear them down and correct them a few paragraphs later. He knew that through Christ, we have all we ever need. Perhaps this is the same truth that Simon, Andrew, and the other disciple knew deep in their bones that Christ was all they needed because grace is that abundant.
Which brings us back to where we began. Teresa of Avila’s words are not a motivational slogan for the church to try harder or to do more. They are a confession of what happens when Christ is revealed and people respond. When the Spirit rests, when grace calls, when lives are reoriented toward Jesus, Christ’s life takes shape again in the world.
The disciples did not set out to become the body of Christ. They simply followed the invitation to “Come and see.” Paul certainly did not set out to build the church. He was claimed by grace, blinded by light, and sent into community where the Spirit did the work. And the church in Corinth — fractured, imperfect, and struggling — was still told: you do not lack any spiritual gift. God is faithful. You have been called into fellowship with his Son.
Epiphany reminds us that Christ is revealed not only in a moment long ago, but again and again through ordinary people who have been called by grace and shaped by the Spirit. The light that drew disciples to follow is the same light that still moves among us — inviting, calling, revealing. May Teresa of Avila’s words not be a burden we carry, but a wonder we live into. Amen.
