“The Foolishness of the Cross”

Third Sunday after Epiphany

January 25, 2026

Isaiah 9:1-4

1 Corinthians 1:10-18

Children’s Message:

So, I’ve got this flashlight, but I can’t get it to work. Can you help me? Will it turn on for you? Just push that button. Does it light up? No? I wonder what’s wrong with it.

Maybe it needs a new bulb. Is that it? Hmm…or maybe it needs a new battery. Why would it need a battery? It’s a flashlight. It’s made to shine light. What difference does a battery make?

Oh…the battery gives it the energy to shine the light. Without the battery, there is no current to move through the bulb. That’s interesting. Are there other lights in this room? Do they all have batteries? No, some of them use a current from an outlet or from a switch that connects the current behind the wall.

So, is there any light that can shine without an electric current? Fire. Candles. Right, that’s what people used as light before we figured out how to use electricity. And what’s the biggest ball of fire there is in our galaxy? The sun! Yes. We don’t even have to light it. It’s just there!

But what about at night? Does the sun get extinguished? Oh, our earth turns so that the sun shines on the other side of the earth for a while. And then it keeps turning, and we get the sun again. So, the sun doesn’t need any other source in order to shine.

That sounds a lot like Jesus. He shines because he is God—and God doesn’t need any other source to shine light into the world. God IS the light. But…if we’re children of God, then we have job to do, too. We’re called to be a light to the world. Except, like this flashlight—or like a candle—we need a source. Who do you think our source for light is? Yes, God! That’s why we light our baptism candles from the Christ candle. To remind us that our light comes from God, and we are to shine that light for all the world to see.

So, when God’s Holy Spirit fills us up, we have what we need to shine into the world. That’s pretty neat. Let’s pray.

Dear God, thank you for giving us your light. Help us shine so that others can see you. Amen.

Message:

Tribalism is a human reality—it’s human nature. It has been happening since the beginning of time. It happens in the church. I know, no one’s surprised. “I’m Lutheran.” “I’m Catholic.” “I’m Baptist.” Or for those who don’t identify with a denomination, “I’m a Christian.” It’s no different than the early church. “I belong to Paul.” “I belong to Apollos.” “I belong to Christ.” This is what Paul had to deal with—what we have to deal with.

But tribalism doesn’t stop with sports and church—it’s everywhere. It’s in families—big time. In fact, Richard Rohr points out that most people think like their family—which is often the only way to get through a meal together. We hold to what we were brought up with. If our parents are racist, we’re likely to be racist. If our parents are anti-gay, we’re likely to be anti-gay. If our parents are vegetarians, we’re likely to be vegetarians. If our parents are Huskers fans, there is no hope. We go with what we know, and we rarely question what our parents tell us. At least, not until something ruffles up our lives directly and forces us to see the world differently.

In family systems theory, it’s called fusion—where emotions tend to override thinking and we connect emotionally with someone regardless what our brains tell us. This happens in politics, which is why no one can agree on what is true or what is fake news, and people can argue over a video that everyone thinks proves their point.

There was a time when this level of connection was a necessary way of life. When people survived because they stuck together against the other. This kind of reaction occurs in the basal ganglia of the brain—the ‘reptile brain’—the part of the brain responsible for reactions and instincts: feeding, fighting, fleeing, and reproduction.

It’s survival mode. But we will never thrive if we stay in survival mode. We will never experience God’s kingdom in this world if we continue to see otherness as a threat, if we refuse to think and weigh facts and discern information without our reptile reaction getting in the way. The reptile brain keeps telling us that to step away from fused tribal thinking is foolishness. It’s dangerous. It will get us killed. And it may be right. But that’s not a good enough reason.

Until we die to the idea that our tribes are absolute, we will never find life with the other. And, friends, Jesus is very much other. He is very much other than anything we cling to. We seek to be right, but he is good. We seek to be moral, but he is just. We seek life, but he walks straight into death. We seek security, but he is the least secure thing we know. We seek certainty, but he offers faith. We seek wisdom, but the message of the cross is complete absurdity—pure foolishness. Following Jesus is foolishness. Being Christian is foolishness—and if it is anything else, it is not Christian.

Faith is foolish. If it weren’t, it wouldn’t be faith. Stepping away from our tribe is foolish. But that’s exactly what Jesus invites us to do. When he says, “Follow me,” look where he goes. He goes into other cities, among other people. He touches people we are not to touch. He speaks to people with whom we should not associate. He loves people we hate. He befriends our enemies. He is the ultimate anti-tribal leader. And he’s dangerous.

Jesus is dangerous and the gospel is a threat, and anyone who says different isn’t really reading the Bible. The Gospel relativizes our prejudices and reveals just how un-Christlike they are. There is only one tribe, and that is creation. And until we can let go of the securities we have established and stand with all who cannot stand on their own, we will continue to destroy this world and all that is in it—including each other.

Because God’s foolishness comes before our rights. God’s foolishness comes before our desires. God’s foolishness comes before our aspirations. Because God chooses foolishness over cruelty—and every form of tribalism has the potential to become cruel in order to maintain the boundaries, the borders, the walls we build between us.

At the end of the day, Christ alone is the common denominator—the one who became humanity so that we might see ourselves as loved and lovely—just how God sees us (believe me, I don’t know how sometimes). Because of God’s love—for every person—we no longer need to hold to our tribes to give us a name, to give us security, to give us purpose. Paul tells us that we have been united in one mind and for one purpose—the purpose of Christ, the purpose of hope, the purpose of life, for all. No one left behind, no one left out, no one held at the border or in detention or at gunpoint, no one forced into extinction, no one fighting for life. All brought into one through the love of God.

It is foolishness, but it is the only way to abundant life.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE