Called Before We Know

Isaiah 49:1–7 | 1 Corinthians 1:1–9 | John 1:29–42

Isaiah speaks with a kind of quiet boldness when he says, “The Lord called me before I was born; while I was in my mother’s womb he named me.” This is not poetic exaggeration. It is a deep theological claim about how God works. Calling does not begin with our awareness, our choices, or our faithfulness. It begins with God’s knowing.

Most of us discover our calling only after the fact.

 

Looking back, we begin to see how God was shaping us through experiences that felt ordinary—or even painful—at the time. Restlessness. Failure. Long seasons of obscurity. None of these cancel a calling. In Scripture, they often accompany it.

Isaiah himself admits discouragement. He confesses that his work has felt pointless, his effort wasted. Calling, after all, does not guarantee that our lives will feel effective. Faithfulness can feel unseen. Obedience can feel unrewarded. And yet God responds not with rebuke, but with a widening of vision: “It is too light a thing… I will give you as a light to the nations.” 

God’s purposes are always larger than our first understanding of them. What feels small to us is often radiant to God.

Calling Is About Belonging Before Doing

Paul’s opening words to the Corinthians are striking not because they are dramatic, but because they are grounding. He reminds them that they are called, enriched, and not lacking in what God knows they need. Writing to a divided and anxious community, Paul begins not with criticism, but with identity.

This matters because we so easily confuse calling with usefulness. We imagine calling as a role, a career, or a religious achievement. Scripture gently corrects us. 

Calling is first about belonging.

Before we are sent, we are claimed.

Before we are effective, we are loved.

Before we are certain, we are held by grace.

Calling grows out of relationship, not performance.

The Lamb Who Reveals God

When John the Baptist finally points to Jesus, he does not announce a strategy or a program. He simply says, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” This is the heart of Epiphany. God reveals himself not through dominance or force, but through self-giving love. Not as conqueror, but as Lamb.

Two disciples begin to follow Jesus—not because they fully understand, but because something in them recognizes truth when it passes by. Jesus turns and asks a question that still reaches us today: “What are you looking for?” It is not a test. It is an invitation to honesty.

Their answer is humble and human. They ask where he is staying. In other words, Can we be with you? Can we see how you live? And Jesus replies with the shape of all calling: “Come and see.”

Calling Comes as Invitation, Not Pressure. There is nothing dramatic about this moment. No thunder. No command. Just an invitation into closeness. This is often how God calls—through interruption rather than instruction.

A quiet dissatisfaction with life as it is.

A sense that success has not satisfied.

A longing for something deeper and truer.

God does not wait for readiness. Readiness is rarely the prerequisite. Willingness is. Once Andrew encounters Jesus, he immediately tells his brother. Calling is never meant to be hoarded. Encounter naturally turns outward. Not loudly. Not perfectly. Just honestly.

To Be Called Is to Be Fully Seen

When Jesus looks at Simon and renames him, he names both who he is and who he will become. “You are Simon… you will be called Cephas.” To be called by God is to be seen as we are—and as we are becoming. God’s call is not only about direction. It is about transformation.

We are called not because we are finished, but because God is faithful.

Living the Epiphany Life

Epiphany does not require that we understand everything. It asks only that we stay attentive to the light we have been given.

To be called by God is to live open-handed:

Known before productive.

Held before confident.

Sustained by grace rather than willpower.

And the call still sounds—not as pressure, but as invitation.

Come and see.

Come and stay close.

Come and discover, slowly,

who you are becoming in Christ.

That is the Epiphany way.