Chosen – for what?
A sermon for the Second Sunday of Epiphany
18 January 2026
Isaiah 49:1-7
1 Corinthians 1:1-9
John 1:29-42.
The readings set before us this morning are held together by a single, powerful theme: election — the experience of being chosen by God. It is a theme that can make us uneasy. In the modern world, to speak of being “chosen” can sound exclusive, even arrogant. We are rightly suspicious of claims to special status. And yet, election is woven deeply into the fabric of Scripture, and Epiphany is precisely the season in which that chosen-ness is revealed — not as privilege for its own sake, but as responsibility for the sake of the world.
In our first reading, from Isaiah, the spotlight falls on Israel, named as the servant of the Lord. Israel is chosen, formed in the womb, called by name. These are intimate, tender words. But notice that this chosen-ness is not simply about honour. The servant is called to restore the tribes of Jacob and — strikingly — to be “a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” Election here is expansive, not narrowing. Israel is chosen not instead of others, but for others.
The servant’s calling is costly. The passage does not romanticise it. The servant speaks of labouring in vain, of being despised and abhorred. Election does not guarantee success or ease. It carries the weight of faithfulness in the face of misunderstanding and resistance. To be chosen by God, Isaiah suggests, is to be drawn into God’s long, patient work of healing and justice — work that often looks fragile before it looks glorious.
The second reading brings the theme of election closer to home. Paul writes to the church in Corinth — a community divided, anxious, and morally confused. And yet, Paul begins not with rebuke but with affirmation: they are “sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints.” Not spiritual superheroes, but ordinary people claimed by God. Their election does not rest on their performance, but on God’s faithfulness. The God by whom they were called, Paul assures the Corinthians, “is faithful.” (1 Cor 1:9)
Here election is corporate and relational. The Corinthians are not chosen as isolated individuals but as a community bound together in Christ. Their calling is to live in a way that reflects who they already are. Election precedes achievement. Grace comes first. And yet, Paul’s words are not complacent. To be called is to be summoned into a way of life shaped by holiness, perseverance, and hope.
Then, in the Gospel reading, election takes on a sharply Christ-centred focus. John the Baptist, himself a figure of immense authority – chosen by God and popular – points decisively away from himself. “Here is the Lamb of God,” he says. “This is the one of whom I spoke.” John understands his own calling only in relation to Jesus. His election is derivative, preparatory, and self-effacing. He is chosen not to gather followers for himself, but to give them away.
What is striking here is how election moves by recognition rather than command. John testifies; the disciples listen; they follow Jesus. Jesus, in turn, sees them and asks a question that goes to the heart of vocation: “What are you looking for?” Election here is not coercive. It is invitational. It begins with curiosity and ends with relationship. “Come and see,” Jesus says — words that still echo through the life of the Church.
Now, if we step outside the biblical world for a moment, we can see that election is not foreign to modern experience. We speak easily of being chosen — for a job, a school, a team, a public office. In politics, elections confer authority through competition and exclusion. Some win; others lose. In the workplace, being selected can bring prestige, security, and power. In these settings, election often elevates the individual above others and can easily foster entitlement.
This is where the biblical vision sharply differs. In Scripture, election is never an end in itself. Israel is chosen to bless the nations. The Corinthians are called to embody God’s faithfulness together. John is chosen to bear witness and then step aside. And Jesus — the chosen one par excellence — is chosen not for privilege, but for self-giving love that leads to the cross.
Christian election is not about being set above others, but about being sent to others. It carries responsibility rather than reward, service rather than status. If modern election often asks, “What do I gain?”, biblical election asks, “Who is being served?”
Epiphany helps us hold this truth clearly. The light that shines on Christ does not spotlight a private saviour for a select few. It reveals God’s intention for the whole world. Those who are drawn into that light are drawn into its outward movement.
So what might this mean for us, here and now? Like Israel, like Corinth, like John the Baptist, we are a chosen people — not because we are better, but because God is faithful. Our baptism names us and claims us, not for comfort alone, but for participation in God’s work. We are chosen to reflect Christ’s light in workplaces, families, neighbourhoods, and communities that often struggle to recognise it.
And like the first disciples, we are invited to begin simply: by listening, by following, by staying with Jesus long enough for our lives to be reshaped. Election begins not with certainty, but with attentiveness. Not with answers, but with the willingness to “come and see.”
In the end, Christian election is a paradox. We are chosen — and yet never chosen away from others.
We are called — and yet always called for the sake of the world God loves. If we can hold that tension faithfully, then Epiphany’s light will not rest on us, but shine through us — just as it was always meant to do.
Tony Surman