SERMON 1 Feb 2026 “The Foolishness of the Cross”

In recent years, many of us have sensed that something in the world has shifted. Since the pandemic, it feels as though things that once stayed hidden have become more visible. Anger surfaces more quickly. Fear feels closer to the surface. Old prejudices reappear in new forms. Violence appears in the news again and again. Beneath these events, we begin to see deeper ways of thinking about life, about power, about whose voices matter, and whose do not.

From a young age, we are shaped by the world’s ways of thinking. We absorb messages about what matters most. We learn what is admired, what is rewarded, and what is ignored. Power. Status. Being impressive. Being noticed. Slowly, we absorb this idea, and this becomes the wisdom we live by. But there is a quiet tension inside this story. Because if this is what wisdom looks like, then the cross does not make sense. And that is exactly what the Apostle Paul dares to say: ‘The message of the cross is foolishness.’

The cross and resurrection of Jesus flip the story we’ve been living by. At the centre of this new story is not success, not control, not winning, but self-giving love. A love that does not protect itself. A love that does not turn away from suffering. A love that moves toward brokenness.

And we see it clearly when Jesus goes up a mountain, sits down, and begins to speak. The Gospel tells us that Jesus saw the crowds, sat down, and his disciples came to him. Then he began to teach what we now call the Beatitudes.

Listen carefully to the words Jesus chooses: poor, mourning, meek, hungry for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers, persecuted. They sound like people the world often overlooks, pushes to the edges, or quietly fears becoming. Some of these words name pain. Some name vulnerability. Some name quiet courage. And yet Jesus looks at these lives and says, “Blessed.”

They are blessed not because their lives are easy, not because they have everything together, not because they are strong, but because God has chosen to stand with them.

Paul speaks to this directly: “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”

This is Paul’s blessing to us. It is the very blessing Jesus proclaimed on the mountain. For Paul, what the world calls wisdom, God calls foolish, and what the world calls foolish, God calls power. In other words, God’s wisdom has a shape. It looks like a cross.

The people in Corinth knew exactly what kind of wisdom they trusted. Some looked for signs, visible displays of God’s power. Some looked for human wisdom, philosophy, arguments and ideas they could debate. But God gives neither. God gives a cross. A crucified Messiah. Not impressive. Not triumphant. Not admired by the powerful. And Paul dares to say that this crucified Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God.

So what is the message of the cross? Paul answers simply: “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.”(1 Corinthians 2:2)   In the first century, the idea of God dying was almost unthinkable. God was expected to be distant, above pain, beyond suffering. A god who is executed on a cross does not fit that picture. No wonder the story sounded foolish.

And yet Paul had encountered this crucified Jesus as the risen Christ, and everything changed. Paul came to see that God’s power is not revealed in domination, but in self-giving love. Not in escaping suffering, but in entering it. Not in controlling others, but in laying one’s life down.

This, Paul says, is the message of the cross. God does not stand far away from human pain. God steps into it and takes it into God’s own heart. If this is who God is, then God’s loving presence is not hidden far away but discovered close to the ground.

This love shows itself in choices the world rarely celebrates. In the person who chooses mercy when judgment would feel more satisfying. In the parent who remains gentle when their patience is worn thin. In the colleague who speaks truth even when silence would be safer. In the neighbour who keeps reaching out even after being turned away. In the person who makes peace when walking away would be easier.

These are not extraordinary moments. They are small acts of love that cost something. And Jesus says, this is where I am. This is where God’s love is already at work in the world. And this is also where Jesus invites us to walk.

To follow Jesus, then, is not a climb upward. It is a descent into humility. It is a letting go of the need to walk the road most people assume is the right one. To follow Jesus is to walk what some might call a foolish path. A path where we choose mercy over winning. A path where we choose truth over being admired. A path where we choose love even when it costs us.

This is the shape of the Beatitudes. This is the shape of the cross. This is the shape of a life held by God’s love. And so, trusting not in ourselves but in God’s grace and promise, I invite you to pray with me.

Loving God, teach us the foolish way of love. Shape our lives by the cross of Christ.
Make us people of mercy, truth, and peace. We offer ourselves to you. Amen