The Pyramid of Love

Come & See

1/18/2026

[Texts]

Isaiah 49:1-7 The servant brings light to the nations

Psalm 40:1-11 I love to do your will, O my God. (Ps. 40:8)

1 Corinthians 1:1-9 Paul’s greeting to the church at Corinth

John 1:29-42 Revelation of Christ as the Lamb of God

Epiphany blessings to you, siblings in Christ.

Beloved in Christ, I want to begin with a simple check‑in.

What’s been weighing on you these days, what’s been staying with you from morning into the night?

Maybe it’s a concern for aging parents.

Maybe it’s your own health.

Maybe it’s the pressure of work, or a relationship that has grown distant.

Let that sit with you for a moment.

When we come to Scripture with what we’re actually carrying,

God’s voice often meets us differently,

sometimes with clarity,

sometimes with tenderness,

sometimes with truth we didn’t expect.

So I invite you to wonder:

How does what you’re bringing with you today shape the way you hear the voices of Isaiah, the Psalmist, and Paul?

And with that in mind, how might you respond to Jesus’ invitation in the Gospel: “Come and see.”

Today, we meet God in four different stories.

• In Isaiah’s prophecy, we hear that God’s call to us began before we were born.

• In the Psalmist’s prayer, we learn that our trust in God shapes the way we wait.

• In Paul’s mission, we see that God gifts each of us so the whole community can flourish.

• And in Jesus’ world, we see some follow at once like Andrew and Simon.

Each of these stories reveals

something about who God is and

something about who we are called to be in our own time and in our own contexts.

As many of you are aware, my husband and I will be traveling to Taiwan for the next two weeks to visit my mom. We will spend my first day in Taipei meeting with a minister and some classmates before heading to Hualien, where my mom is.

While catching up with my classmates, although I'm eager to hear about their lives, I expect they'll also be curious about our experiences and impressions in this country these days.

As I’ve been thinking about that, one word keeps rising in my mind—a word that has been weighing on me: gangsters.

I'm not talking about movie gangsters, but about a spirit that turns pain into cruelty. It is a kind of spirit we see in the way many people are treated today, especially immigrants.

To me, a “gangster” is someone who has taken their own wounds, shame, and unresolved pain and turned them outward as harm. Someone who has given themselves permission to hate so deeply that they lose the ability to be human to others, and eventually to themselves.

And I see traces of that same spirit in the way many immigrants

both documented and undocumented are treated today.

A hardening of hearts.

A normalization of cruelty.

A willingness to dehumanize.

For the past seven years, I have always had opportunities to talk about the Pyramid of Hate in my sermons. Should I be surprised? This is the world we live in.

If you look it up, you’ll likely find yourself nodding, as I did, at how small acts of bias can escalate—step by step—into violence and, eventually, genocide.

It starts with small assumptions about individuals or groups.

Then it grows into stereotypes.

Then exclusion.

Then bullying.

Then violence.

And eventually, killing—that's how genocide happens.

It never begins with violence. It begins quietly.

And we know, in Scripture, the word ‘hate’ doesn’t just mean strong emotion. In the biblical world, ‘hate’ often means the absence of love—the refusal to see another’s humanity, the turning away from mercy and justice, the failure to see another as a neighbor. And Jesus has defined who our neighbors are.

And that absence of love can grow quietly, almost invisibly, until it becomes destructive… until it is too late to stop.

One year, I tried to reverse the pattern.

If hate can escalate, so can love.

What would a Pyramid of Love look like?

As I worked on it, I began to see Jesus’ ministry woven through every step—

—his teaching, his healing, his compassion, his mission.

Noticing:

Love that begins with noticing, as Jesus notices his disciples and calls them by name. He sees the giftedness God has given to them.

Learning:

Love that grows through learning, as Jesus teaches the Beatitudes and opens a new way of seeing the world.

Action:

Love that moves action, as Jesus washes His disciple's feet and takes the posture of a servant.

Justice:

Love that seeks justice, as Jesus bears the cross and refuses to return violence for violence.

Life:

Love that brings life, as Jesus rises from the grave and brings new creation with him.

This is the message, the story, the pyramid of love I want to share ultimately, an overlapped world that God calls us to live in.

And so we return to Jesus’ invitation: “Come and see.”

Jesus’ invitation—“Come and see”—is good news.

This is the good news of ministry:

God is already here.

God is already working.

We get to join in.

As John the Baptist said,

“Look, here is the Lamb of God.”

And as his two disciples said,

“We have found the Messiah.”

So we say,

“Look, here is the body of Christ.”

“We have found Jesus’ disciples.”

It is an invitation into a way of life—one shaped by the Pyramid of Love:

by noticing,

by learning,

by action,

by seeking justice,

by sharing the new life in Christ.

Our “Come and See” carries:

• What God entrusted to us before we were born, as Isaiah says.

• The confidence of the Psalmist, who knows God hears our cry.

• The testimony of Paul, who reminds us Christ strengthens us for our calling.

• The companionship of Jesus himself, who walks with us into the world’s pain.

This is the invitation we extend to others:

Come and see what Jesus has taught us.

Come and see how we care for those in need.

Come and see how love can grow—here, now, among us.

As we go from this place, I leave you with two questions:

1. How might you invite others to see God’s mission field today?

2. And where have you noticed God’s presence inviting you to extend Jesus’ words, “Come and see.”?

Let us pray

Gracious God,

You call us and love us dearly before we know you.

You lift us from what holds us down and set our feet on solid ground.

You strengthen us with every gift we need to serve your beloved.

Open our eyes to see your presence.

Open our hands to extend your invitation.

Shape our lives to reflect your love in a world hungry for compassion.

In Christ, we say, “Come and see.”

Amen.