Posts

Posted on

The Journey of Walking by God’s Grace

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 14:25-35. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on February 22, 2026.

Praise the Lord, and welcome. I was completely surprised by all the snow we had this morning! My office is in the basement, so I didn’t see what it looked like outside until I was walking out the door. But praise the Lord for His mercies and grace that we all arrived safely.

I have mentioned my taste in entertainment enough that you probably know I enjoy Japanese manga and anime. One of the first series I really got into was called “Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple.” It is a classic underdog story about a bullied high school student who decides to learn martial arts to get stronger. He ends up becoming the disciple of five different martial arts masters. It is a comedy, but a running gag is how brutally these masters train him, pushing him until he is physically broken down. While exaggerated, it highlights a true principle: becoming a true disciple of anything, whether it is mixed martial arts or the disciplines of the Shaolin warrior monks, requires an extreme, life-altering level of dedication.

For us as Christians, the word “disciple” is so familiar that we sometimes lose its weight. But in Luke 14, Jesus does not pull any punches about the extreme dedication required to follow Him. He was on His way to Jerusalem—and ultimately to the cross—and He began preparing His followers for the reality of what discipleship truly costs.

Jesus turned to the crowds accompanying Him and said, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26-27, ESV).

That is a shockingly strong statement. Of course, Jesus is using comparative language here. He is not commanding literal hatred of your family. Instead, He is saying that your love for Him must be so supreme that, in comparison, your love for everything else looks like hate. Jesus must be the absolute, unrivaled priority in your life. The Apostle Paul understood this completely when he wrote, “Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:8, ESV).

In the West today, we generally do not face the threat of physical death for our faith. No one is forcing us to renounce Christ at the edge of a sword. However, we face something that can be just as dangerous to our devotion: a consumeristic culture constantly vying for our time and attention. Are we willing to sacrifice our leisure, our social media, and our entertainment for the sake of Christ? Even our legitimate priorities—our jobs, our health, putting a roof over our families—must not take precedence over Him.

Following Jesus is not something to casually stumble into. To emphasize this, Jesus gave two short illustrations: a man building a tower who must first sit down and count the cost to see if he can finish it, and a king going to war who must deliberate if he has the troops to win (Luke 14:28-32). If you do not count the cost of discipleship up front, you will fall away when the reality of following Jesus becomes difficult. This is exactly why the prosperity gospel fails; it invites people to a shallow, comfortable Christianity without ever mentioning the cross we are called to bear.

A true disciple’s journey involves constant self-reflection. Are you truly prioritizing Jesus in your life? Jesus warned that salt that loses its taste is useless and thrown away (Luke 14:34-35). Merely attending church, going to a growth group, or knowing the right vocabulary does not make you a Christian. As Ephesians 2:8 (ESV) reminds us, “For by grace you have been saved through faith.” Salvation is a free gift, but true faith radically transforms our priorities. Let us continually lay our burdens and distractions down, fully surrendering to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord.

Posted on

An Invitation To The Table

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 14:1-24. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on February 15, 2026.

It is starting to feel like spring, and it is a blessing to see the seasons shift into a time of renewal. Today, we are continuing our series in the Gospel of Luke, specifically looking at Luke 14:1-24. This passage is broken into three distinct sections, but they all come together under one common theme: being invited to God’s table.

The Trap of Managing God

The setting opens with Jesus eating at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees on the Sabbath. Despite their growing animosity toward Jesus, the religious leaders had to keep up appearances because of His popularity. However, Luke notes their primary objective was to watch Him carefully. Jesus does not disappoint; He immediately heals a man with dropsy—a physical condition causing painful fluid buildup.

This is the third Sabbath healing recorded in Luke. Why the repetition? Because the way the religious leaders treated the Sabbath was a primary symptom of their rejection of Jesus. They were trying to manage God, strictly adhering to the letter of the law while completely neglecting its weightier matters: justice, mercy, and compassion. Jesus exposes this hypocrisy, asking, “Which of you, having a son or an ox that has fallen into a well on a Sabbath day, will not immediately pull him out?” (Luke 14:5, ESV).

We can fall into this same trap today. Think about how society handles complex issues like drug addiction. Simply locking someone up strictly follows the letter of the law, but it lacks the restorative compassion needed for true rehabilitation. Conversely, merely enabling the behavior ignores the root problem entirely. Jesus expects us to obey God’s law, but we must do so without abandoning His character of mercy.

The Danger of Entitlement

Next, Jesus addresses the guests. He notices people choosing the places of honor and tells a parable about taking the lowest seat at a wedding feast. To fully grasp this, we have to understand the layout of a formal first-century meal.

Guests would recline on their left sides around a U-shaped table. The host sat on the left side of the U, with the most honored guest immediately to his left. The seating continued around the table based entirely on social standing, with the lowest places on the far right near the door.

Jesus warns against the shame of placing yourself too high and being asked to move down. But this wasn’t just social advice to avoid an awkward encounter. He was making a subtle point about the Jewish people’s assumption of honor with God. Honor is awarded by God; it is not something you can just take or feel entitled to simply because of your heritage or your outward religious performance.

The Great Banquet

Jesus then turns to the host, advising him to invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind—those who have no hope of ever repaying the favor. True biblical hospitality is given without the expectation of return.

This prompts a guest to remark on the blessing of eating bread in the kingdom of God, perhaps nervously trying to reaffirm his own secure place at God’s table. In response, Jesus tells the parable of the Great Banquet. A man throws a grand feast, but when the time comes, all the originally invited guests make excuses. One bought a field, another bought oxen, and another just got married.

These were legitimate daily responsibilities, but by using them to back out of a prior commitment, the guests shame the host. They prioritize their own lives over his invitation. Consequently, the master opens his doors to the marginalized, and eventually to the highways and hedges—representing the inclusion of the Gentiles.

The invitation to God’s banquet is still open to the world today. The question is, what are we prioritizing? Even legitimate concerns—work, family, or ministry—can become issues if they cause us to reject God’s invitation to rest in Him. Jesus offers us a better way in Matthew 11:28 (ESV): “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Lay your burdens at His feet, accept the invitation, and find true rest for your soul.

Posted on

Trusting the God Who Finishes What He Starts

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 13:18-35. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on February 8, 2026.

In our last look at the Gospel of Luke, Jesus healed a woman on the Sabbath. This sparked a confrontation with the local synagogue ruler, setting the stage for a broader conflict with the Pharisees. As Jesus gained prominence, the Jewish leaders grew increasingly concerned. This explains one of the major themes in Luke: why the gospel eventually turned toward the Gentiles and how the Jewish leaders came to reject Jesus.

Jesus begins addressing this by asking, “What is the kingdom of God like? And to what shall I compare it? It is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his garden, and it grew and became a tree…” He then compares it to a tiny bit of leaven that a woman hides in flour until the whole batch is leavened (Luke 13:18-21, ESV).

These parables teach that God’s kingdom starts small but grows into something massive. Look at human history: the British Empire was once the largest to ever exist, yet today it is a shadow of its former self. That is the limit of a human-made kingdom. Christianity, conversely, started with a carpenter and twelve fishermen in a backwoods town. Today, it is a global phenomenon—a miracle only God could accomplish.

There is a second message here regarding how long this growth takes. The early Jews expected a sudden, dramatic military redemption, hoping for a leader to free them from the Roman Empire. Because Jesus didn’t fit that mold, they missed His signs. They were stuck in their own mindset of how God was supposed to work.

It is easy to fall into that same trap. Many of you might be waiting on God right now—for healing, for work, or for restored relationships. We must not get bogged down by our own expectations. As Psalm 27:14 (ESV) reminds us, “Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!” God is sovereign. He might not answer on your timeline, but He will provide what is for your good.

Those who wait and trust in the Lord will enter what Jesus calls the “narrow door.” When asked if only a few will be saved, Jesus said, “Strive to enter through the narrow door. For many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able” (Luke 13:24, ESV). The Jewish people largely believed everyone born a Jew would be saved automatically. But Jesus gives a brutal teaching: admission to God’s kingdom is exclusive, not based on heritage.

He warns that many will claim to know Him, but He will reply, “I do not know where you come from. Depart from me.” They will see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom while they are cast out. Yet, their exclusion means our inclusion. God promised Abraham that in him all families of the earth would be blessed. People from the east, west, north, and south will recline at the table.

Despite this rejection, Jesus still had incredible compassion for His people. When warned that Herod wanted to kill Him, Jesus refused to back down. Instead, He mourned for the city rejecting Him: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Luke 13:34, ESV).

God’s patience is incredible, giving us chance after chance. But we cannot mistake His patience for universalism—the belief that everyone will eventually be saved. There comes a point where a choice must be made. You are not saved just because you go to church. What saves you is faith in Jesus Christ alone. As Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6, ESV).

If you don’t know Christ, I pray you come to know Him today. For those who do trust Him, remember Philippians 1:6 (ESV): “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Trust in Him, for He is always worthy of our faith.

Posted on

When Religion Gets In The Way of Redemption

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 13:10-17. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on January 25, 2026.

Amen. Last week I mentioned serving as a missionary in Japan and watching all those videos of mom-and-pop eateries. Often you see elderly obāsans with a pronounced forward curve—a dowager’s hump—age-related, painful, limiting. That image came to mind in our passage.

“Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. And behold, there was a woman who had a disabling spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not fully straighten herself… ‘Woman, you are freed from your disability.’ And he laid his hands on her, and immediately she was made straight, and she glorified God” (Luke 13:10–13, ESV).

Luke—the physician—notes both a physical and a spiritual dimension: a “disabling spirit.” Not necessarily elderly, not merely slow, age-related change; crippling, painful, socially stigmatizing. In that world, visible deformity could be read as curse or consequence. Faces turn away. Doors close.

Scripture reminds us not to flatten reality to the merely material—or to sensationalize the spiritual. “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against… the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12, ESV). C. S. Lewis warned of two equal and opposite errors: to disbelieve devils entirely, or to cultivate an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. Here, Luke simply shows both dimensions were in play—and Jesus is Lord over them all.

Notice Jesus’ tenderness. He sees her, calls her, speaks freedom, touches her: “Woman, you are freed from your disability.” Immediately she is made straight and glorifies God. Psalm 103 gives us language: “Bless the LORD, O my soul… who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit” (Psalm 103:1–4, ESV).

Not everyone rejoices. “The ruler of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, said to the people, ‘There are six days in which work ought to be done; come on those days and be healed, and not on the Sabbath’” (Luke 13:14, ESV). Jesus answers by turning their own Sabbath casuistry on its head: “Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger and lead it away to water it? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan bound for eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the Sabbath day?” (Luke 13:15–16, ESV).

They would untie an animal; Jesus looses a woman. Same idea, different object. Their rules could show pity to livestock; their hearts refused mercy to a daughter of Abraham. That’s the hypocrisy Jesus unmasks.

Rules and rhythms matter. Obedience is not a dirty word. “He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world. And by this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments. Whoever says ‘I know him’ but does not keep his commandments is a liar… whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked” (1 John 2:2–6, ESV). The danger comes when religion—our habits, guardrails, traditions—becomes a substitute for redemption, when hedges around the law eclipse the heart of the Lawgiver.

Jesus names the “weightier matters”: “justice and mercy and faithfulness. These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others” (Matthew 23:23, ESV). James calls this “religion that is pure and undefiled before God”: “to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world” (James 1:27, ESV). In other words, yes—keep the Sabbath holy; and yes—let the Sabbath be a day when the bound are loosed, the bent stand straight, and the forgotten are seen.

Luke concludes: “As he said these things, all his adversaries were put to shame, and all the people rejoiced at all the glorious things that were done by him” (Luke 13:17, ESV). That’s the order we want: shame for hypocrisy, joy for mercy, glory to God. May our practices never muzzle compassion. May our boundaries never bar redemption. Bless the Lord, O my soul.

Posted on

The Urgency of Choosing Christ

It’s good to be back in the Gospel of Luke. Luke writes an “orderly account” of Jesus’ life not as mere biography, but to transform lives with the good news. Writing largely to Gentiles, he shows Jesus as the fulfillment of Israel’s story and Lord over all history. We’re in the long section (Luke 9–19) where Jesus journeys to Jerusalem—ultimately, to the cross. Today’s passage (Luke 12:49–13:9) gathers five teachings under one theme: the urgency of choosing Christ.

Jesus begins with an arresting purpose statement: “I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled! I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished!” (Luke 12:49–50, ESV). The “fire” evokes judgment language familiar from the prophets. John the Baptist foresaw it: the Messiah would gather wheat and “burn with unquenchable fire” the chaff (Luke 3:16–17, ESV). Scripture is clear—Jesus’ second advent will bring just judgment: “in flaming fire, inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God” (2 Thessalonians 1:8–9, ESV).

But verse 50 anchors hope: Jesus’ “baptism” points to His cross. “Now is my soul troubled… But for this purpose I have come to this hour” (John 12:27, ESV). Judgment and mercy meet at Calvary. Those who choose Christ are saved from the fire by His finished work.

Still, that choice brings division. “Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division” (Luke 12:51, ESV). Jesus is the “Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6), and in Him “you who once were far off have been brought near… For he himself is our peace” (Ephesians 2:13–14, ESV). Yet the peace with God that believers enjoy can fracture earthly ties, even within families (Luke 12:53; echoing Micah 7). In some cultures, this cost is painfully tangible; still, “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus” outweighs every loss (Philippians 3:8, ESV).

Jesus then rebukes spiritual dullness. People can read the sky and predict weather, “but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?” (Luke 12:56, ESV). His works—the blind seeing, the lame walking, the poor receiving good news—are signs shouting Messiah (cf. Luke 7:22). Hypocrisy blinds; truth is plain.

He presses the urgency with a courtroom picture: settle before judgment. “Make an effort to settle with him on the way, lest he drag you to the judge… I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the very last penny” (Luke 12:58–59, ESV). We cannot pay our sin-debt, but Christ can—and did: God “forgave us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt… This he set aside, nailing it to the cross” (Colossians 2:13–14, ESV). Choose Christ while you’re “on the way.”

Some in the crowd pivot to headlines: Pilate’s brutality, a tower collapse (Luke 13:1–4). Were the victims greater sinners? Jesus won’t play that game. Everyone dies; everyone faces God. “Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13:3, 5, ESV). The point isn’t ranking tragedies; the point is readiness—repentance now.

He closes with a parable (Luke 13:6–9): a fruitless fig tree given one more year—one more gracious chance—to bear fruit before the axe falls. It pictures Israel in Jesus’ day, but it also preaches God’s patience to us. “The Lord is… patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Peter 3:9, ESV). Patience, yes—but not forever: “the day of the Lord will come like a thief” (2 Peter 3:10, ESV). Therefore, choose Christ today: “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts” (Hebrews 4:7, ESV).

And choose Him for His worth, not merely to avoid hell. He is better than every alternative—“fullness of joy” in His presence; “pleasures forevermore” at His right hand (Psalm 16:11, ESV). Stir your heart by seeking Him where He reveals Himself—in His Word, among His people, at His Table. Don’t delay. Christ is worth everything.