Where Are You Staying?
John 1:29-42 1/18/2026
There are some very courageous people in this text. First, we have John the Baptizer,
who has built up a strong ministry of preparation for the Messiah’s arrival. Once he
baptizes Jesus, he knows that this is the moment he’s been preparing for. It’s time for
him to recede into the background, a form of retirement. So, he points his disciples
toward Jesus. His ego and stature mean nothing to him. Jesus’ ministry is what’s
important. The next act of courage comes from Andrew and an unnamed disciple.
They are intrigued by John’s description of Jesus as “the Lamb of God.” So, they
follow him. In fact, the Greek word could also mean stalk him! These are curious men.
They have questions. Jesus finally acknowledges them and asks, “What are you
looking for?” It’s a good question and one that runs deep. They immediately ask him,
“Where are you staying?” In other words, who are you? What do you stand for? Jesus
responds, “Come and see.” Come join me for a cup of coffee and a bagel, and let’s
talk. Tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll tell you about my ministry. And so they
do. They courageously step out in faith to learn where Jesus is “staying.” Not only do
these disciples decide to follow him, but Andrew also enlists his brother, Simon. The
one who will eventually and courageously lead the disciples after Jesus’ death and
resurrection. These are good questions. “What are you looking for?” We’re still
looking today, aren’t we? We’re looking for health and well-being, for community and
trust, and a sense of belonging somewhere. There are so many lonely people in our
nation today. It’s considered the new epidemic. People lack meaningful connections
with others. We rely on social media way too much. Our culture elevates
individualism over community; working remotely has erased the element of any social
engagement at the office; the elderly watch friends and family die while losing their
mobility. They are looking for meaning in their lives, for something to connect with
and to believe in. When guests arrive in our building, they are asking us, “Where are
you staying?” They need to know if this is the place where they’ll feel safe and
accepted. Is our belief system one that they can relate to and will find life-giving?
Most of all, will any of us care about them as individuals? Jesus responds, “Come and
see.” And when we follow him, we exercise the courage of Andrew and the other
disciples. We step out in faith. My first-ever backpacking journey took place in August
- We were trekking the San Juan Mountains in Colorado, and snow still lay on the
north-facing slope. On the fifth and final day, we hiked down that northern slope
toward the end of the trail. It was a long, tiring day. My entire body ached from the
walking and climbing, not to mention the 25-pound backpack I was carrying. Silence
settled over us as we carefully crunched along the snow-covered trail. The trail was
about three feet wide with the mountain soaring above us on the right. But on the
left was a deep valley. One wrong move and we’d topple down several hundred feet.
As I mentioned, the snow was crunchy, so it was slippery to walk on. At one point on
the trail, we encountered a cutout. We had to step over this “gap” to reach the other
side. It required a giant step to land on the other side, which was covered with snow. I
couldn’t determine where to step. One wrong move and I could end up at the bottom
of the slope. I panicked. Frozen in place, leaning into that step, I prayed. Because of
my delay, behind me, our General Presbyter, Rev Tim Blodgett, had stood in one place
too long, and he fell through the snow up to his waist. Someone behind him said, “It’s
okay, Sandy. Just take a step.” I took a breath and took the step. A hand reached out
on the other side to guide me onto firmer ground. Tim was okay and the moment of
panic ended for me. I don’t know how long I walked along that trail in prayer. Yes, I
was afraid for my life. But my panic could have cost someone else his life and would
leave his family without a husband and father. I continued in prayer. Gratitude that all
of us were safe; that we had each encountered difficult paths and trying moments.
Then something occurred to me: Jesus says, “I will never leave you.” I believed that,
and I preached it often. I didn’t see it as God making everything all right, removing
illness or depression, granting us financial riches to reward our faith, or any number of
things. What I realized was that if I had fallen down that slope, God would have been
with me. That no matter how this encounter with the cutout in the trail went, God
wasn’t going to stand there and watch me fall. God would fall with me and hold me. It
would be painful and agonizing, but God would be with me. The point I make is this:
God wants us to take those leaps of faith. God calls us to step around, over, or
through the roadblocks. And God remains with us, no matter what. Where are you
staying? How has your faith been honed on those real or virtual mountains? What do
you have to share with those who are looking for something better than what they
have? What do you have to offer? Words. Quiet presence. A loving gesture or even a
casual wave. Where are you staying? Talk it over with God. You may be surprised by
the answer. All glory and honor be to God. Amen.
Where Are You Staying?
Progressive Reflections on John 1:29-42
Today, we gather to reflect on one of the most profound invitations in John’s
Gospel—a simple question that opens the doors to transformation: “Where are you
staying?” In John 1:29-42, we witness John the Baptist’s testimony about Jesus,
followed by the curiosity and courage of two disciples who ask Jesus where he dwells.
Rather than giving them a straightforward answer, Jesus invites them: “Come and
see.” This moment is not just about physical space, but about the spiritual journey that
begins with openness and curiosity.
In a progressive Christian context, we honor the courage it takes to seek, to question,
and to approach the unknown. The disciples did not settle for secondhand
accounts—they sought direct experience. Progressive faith invites us to do the same:
to move beyond dogma, to engage personally and deeply with the divine, and to
honor the unfolding of truth in our lives and communities. “Come and see” is an
invitation to encounter God in unexpected places—in acts of justice, in relationships,
in radical inclusivity.
Consider Andrew, who, after meeting Jesus, immediately shares the good news with
his brother Simon. The ripple effect of invitation and response is the heartbeat of a
vibrant, progressive church. We are called not only to seek Christ but also to invite
others into spaces of discovery, compassion, and belonging. Our faith grows when we
move, when we ask, when we follow the invitation to “come and see”—even when the
path ahead is uncertain.
As we move through our week, may we ask ourselves: Where is Christ dwelling among
us today? Are we willing to seek, to ask, to journey beyond comfort zones? May we
embody the spirit of these early disciples, walking in hope, curiosity, and love, trusting
that the invitation to “come and see” still stands for all who long for connection and
transformation.