Sermon | Follow Me | Rev. Ann Mann | Barnesville First UMC | January 25, 2026 скачать в хорошем качестве

Sermon | Follow Me | Rev. Ann Mann | Barnesville First UMC | January 25, 2026

Sermon | Follow Me | Rev. Ann Mann | Barnesville First UMC | January 25, 2026 Before this year, I couldn’t have told you a single thing about the Indiana Hoosiers football team. And here we are, the Hoosiers are national champions. Their coach, Curt Cignetti has a winning record everywhere he has coached. And it got me wondering: what actually makes a team successful? Because talent alone isn’t enough. Indiana had zero five-star recruits. What they had was something deeper. They believed in their leader. And he believed in them. They practice the fundamentals relentlessly. They trust the process. They play for one another. No one is bigger than the team. They show up every week ready to do the quiet, unseen work that eventually leads to victory. Success, it turns out, is rarely flashy. It’s discipline when no one is watching. It’s consistency when motivation fades. It’s humility enough to learn and courage enough to lead. It’s showing up again and again, even when the odds are long. In our gospel reading today from Matthew, Jesus has just come out of the wilderness. Forty days of prayer. Forty days of fasting. Forty days of temptation and testing. The silence has ended. The preparation is complete. And then news reaches him: John the Baptist has been arrested. Scripture Reading: Matthew 4:12-23 (Please read on your own) This week has been a heavy one for our nation. Many of us have watched the news with grief, confusion, anger, or fear. Once again, a human life has been lost, and once again our communities feel divided and raw. The church does not gather to debate politics, but we do gather to hold one another’s pain before God. When Matthew tells us that Jesus began his ministry after learning of John’s arrest, he is reminding us that the gospel does not emerge in calm or comfort. Jesus steps into a world already marked by violence, injustice, and deep uncertainty, and he does not turn away. He does not wait for perfect conditions. He begins anyway. So today, we acknowledge the grief many carry. We pray for families who mourn. We pray for communities that feel unsafe. We pray for wisdom for those in authority. And we pray for our own hearts, that fear will not harden us, and anger will not divide us. Jesus’ call to “Follow me” is not an escape from the world’s pain. It is an invitation to walk with him straight into it, bearing light, choosing compassion, and trusting that God’s kingdom is still breaking in, even when the world feels fractured. Just as Jesus emerges from the wilderness with a clarity of purpose. So must we. Matthew writes, “From that time Jesus began to proclaim, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’” Not someday. Not eventually. Now. Jesus goes to Galilee, a region long familiar with disappointment and darkness. Galilee was a crossroads, conquered repeatedly, heavily taxed, often dismissed. If hope was going to rise anywhere, it would have to rise among people who knew what it meant to struggle. Walking along the Sea of Galilee, he sees two brothers, Simon Peter and Andrew, casting their nets. They are not scholars or religious leaders. They are fishermen. Jesus does not offer them a five-year plan or explain theology. He says, “Follow me.” Two words. No guarantees. No roadmap. No promise of comfort. And Matthew tells us something astonishing: immediately they left their nets and followed him. Discipleship, from the very beginning, is not about status or ability. It is about availability. Jesus does not call the extraordinary so they can remain unchanged. He calls ordinary people and invites them into extraordinary purpose. Notice what Jesus does not say. He does not say, “Become something else first.” He does not say, “Get your life cleaned up.” He does not say, “Once you understand everything, then come.” He says, “Follow me.” Discipleship begins not with mastery, but with movement. Every generation faces the same choice. We can preserve what once was, or participate in what God is still doing. We can be caretakers of our past, or carriers of God’s light into the future. Years ago, my husband once said something that has stayed with me. He said, “Whatever we do, I want our lives to make a difference.” He wasn’t talking about doing something grand. He meant showing up, for family, for neighbors, for people in need. Living in such a way that our lives tell a faithful story. Jesus is still walking along the shoreline of ordinary lives. He still calls people who are tired, uncertain, and busy. And he still speaks the same two words: “Follow me.” It began with a simple yes, spoken on an ordinary shoreline by ordinary people willing to trust the one who called them. The kingdom is near. The light has come. Will we will drop our nets and follow, or remain standing on the shore watching the moment pass us by? May our answer be a simple yes, as we trust the one who calls us to carry His light into a broken world.