A sermon on Matthew 24:28
Brothers and sisters,
When people hear Jesus speak about his coming, many imagine something terrifying and spectacular: the sky split open, a bolt of lightning crashing down from above, a sudden shock that overwhelms the world in a single moment. It is dramatic. It is powerful. And yet—Jesus did not come to train our imagination in fear, but in truth.
Today I want to invite you to look again at the image Jesus uses, and to ask a simple question: what kind of light reveals God?
1. Jesus Did Not Promise Shock — He Promised Clarity
Jesus says that his coming will be like lightning seen from east to west. We often assume this means a thunderbolt from the clouds, but Jesus does not describe a vertical strike. He speaks of direction—east to west—across the world.
There is a light that always moves this way.
Not violently.
Not briefly.
But steadily, patiently, irresistibly.
It is the sunrise.
Sunrise does not frighten the world into seeing.
It simply makes seeing unavoidable.
When the sun rises, nothing needs to be announced. Nothing needs to be forced. Darkness does not argue. Shadows do not resist. They simply disappear.
This is the kind of revelation Jesus points us toward.
2. God’s Light Is Not Brief — It Endures
A thunderbolt flashes and is gone.
Sunlight remains.
A thunderbolt shocks a single place.
Sunlight fills everything.
A thunderbolt creates chaos.
Sunlight creates understanding.
If Jesus wanted to describe fear, he had many images to choose from. But he chose light—because God does not reveal himself to terrify humanity, but to make truth visible.
The coming of the Son of Man is not about a momentary spectacle. It is about a world in which nothing false can keep hiding.
3. The True Messiah Walks in the Open
Here is something we often forget: false messiahs hide.
They gather followers in secret.
They whisper plans in remote places.
They prepare for violence because they depend on it.
But Jesus Christ never did this.
He walked openly through villages and cities.
He taught in public places.
He spoke plainly—even when it cost him everything.
Why could he do this?
Because he was not a threat in the way the world understands threat.
He carried no weapons.
He raised no armies.
He planned no rebellion.
His power was not force—it was truth.
Sunlight belongs to such a Messiah. It does not hide. It does not conspire. It does not choose secret locations. It shines everywhere, for everyone, without fear.
4. We Missed Him Once — For the Same Reason
Jesus already came into the world once, and many did not recognize him—even when he stood right in front of them.
Why?
Because they expected a warrior.
They expected domination.
They expected a Messiah who would arrive from above with overwhelming force.
Instead, God sent someone who walked beside them.
The danger is that we repeat the same mistake—still waiting for shock and spectacle, while God works through openness, humility, and light.
The sunrise does not look impressive to those waiting for explosions.
But it changes everything.
5. What This Means for Us
If Christ comes like sunlight, then his presence is not about secrecy or fear. It is about exposure—beginning with us.
Light reveals what is real.
Light removes excuses.
Light leaves no room for hiding.
And that is why it can feel uncomfortable.
But it is also why it is good.
Because the kingdom of God does not advance through violence or coercion, but through clarity, mercy, and truth made visible.
Conclusion
Jesus does not fall from heaven like a thunderbolt.
He rises upon the world like dawn.
Not to terrify humanity into submission, but to illuminate humanity into recognition.
The question is not whether the light will come.
The question is whether we are willing to live in the open when it does.
May we learn to recognize the Messiah not by shock, but by daylight.
Not by fear, but by truth.
Not by force, but by love.
Amen.