Service for February 1 Fourth Sunday of Epiphany

Sermon for February 1, 2026       Pastor Jim Odden             Fourth Sunday of Epiphany

Jesus begins the Beatitudes not with answers but with words that unsettle us. Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst. These are not gentle sayings once we let them land. They confront how we measure success, power and worth. Jesus is not blessing the obvious winners. He stands with those the world has already set aside and declares that God is at work there.

Paul echoes this when he speaks of Christ crucified, foolish to some and offensive to others. God chooses what is weak, low and despised, not to flatter us but to overturn our standards. We are taught to cheer the exceptional and the powerful. God keeps tending the margins, and in that strange, patient care something unexpected takes shape.

The Beatitudes speak into a world strained by violence that repeats itself, injustice that feels both undeniable and untouchable, and fear that hardens into suspicion. Into this, Jesus does not offer a slogan or a program. He offers a description of God’s kingdom already pressing in, a kingdom that does not flatter the powerful and does not abandon the wounded. Blessing is not a ladder we climb. It is a gift we receive. Grace meets us where we actually are.

This grace is not vague or floating. It takes shape in real lives and real places. It gathers around those worn thin by loss, bent low by systems they did not design, pushed aside by fear or neglect. God’s mercy steps directly into the mess of public life. This is not a dilution of the gospel. It is the gospel insisting on flesh, names and neighbors.

The Beatitudes teach us to recognize strength differently. Meekness is strength disciplined by trust rather than fear. Mourning tells the truth about loss and refuses denial. Hunger for righteousness is the deep ache for relationships made whole, with God, with one another and with the world. Mercy chooses people over positions. Peacemaking is the slow work of repair. Faithfulness may bring conflict, but it also brings belonging.

We live between gift and calling. Saved by grace alone, we are freed to bear witness to the One already at work. We go from here attentive, trusting that God is present among the lowly and the weary, and by grace we are invited to join in.