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The Relentless Father

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 15:11-31. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on March 22, 2026.

The Parable of the Prodigal Son is one of Jesus’s most well-known stories. It is a beautiful picture of repentance and salvation, often taught in Sunday school from the time we are young. But because it is so popular, we sometimes miss the complete picture. To truly grasp the weight of this parable, we have to look past the familiar story and understand the context in which Jesus told it.

In Luke 15:1-2, tax collectors and sinners were drawing near to Jesus, and the Pharisees grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” Tax collectors were considered traitors who defrauded their fellow Jews for the Roman Empire. The group called “sinners” included those living in obvious moral failure, but it also included the poor, sick, and lame—people deemed ritually unclean by their circumstances. Instead of helping them find restoration through the law of Moses, the Pharisees simply excluded them. Jesus told this parable as a direct response to their self-righteous gatekeeping.

Jesus begins with a scandalous premise: a younger son demands his share of the inheritance. In first-century Jewish culture, this was not just asking for an early allowance; it was essentially saying, “Father, I wish you were dead. I want your stuff, but I don’t want a relationship with you.” Shockingly, the father agrees and divides his livelihood. The son liquidates his assets—causing a massive, public economic blow to the family—and squanders it in reckless living. When a severe famine hits, he reaches absolute rock bottom. He hires himself out to feed pigs, an incredibly shameful job for a Jew, and becomes so starving he longs to eat the pig slop.

Coming to his senses, the son realizes his father’s hired servants live better than he does. He decides to return, hoping merely to be accepted as a slave. But verse 20 tells us that while he was still a long way off, his father saw him. The father had been watching the road, longing for his son’s return. Filled with compassion, the father runs—an undignified and shameful act for an elderly patriarch—and embraces his dirty, pig-smelling son. By giving him the best robe, a ring, and shoes, the father takes the son’s public shame upon himself and completely restores him to the family. They kill the fatted calf and celebrate, illustrating the joy in heaven over one sinner who repents.

If Jesus stopped there, it would be a perfect story of grace. But He introduces a curveball: the older brother. Hearing the music, the older son refuses to go inside. By refusing his expected role as a host in the celebration, the older brother brings a fresh wave of public shame upon his father. When the father graciously comes out to entreat him, the older son angrily refers to his sibling not as his brother, but as “this son of yours.” He reveals that he, too, only wanted what the father’s estate could give him, not a true relationship with the father. Jesus was holding up a mirror to the scribes and Pharisees. They were the older brother—outwardly obedient, but inwardly distant, judgmental, and refusing to celebrate the lost being found.

This leaves us with a sobering warning about how we react when we hear about an unbeliever getting saved. It is easy to respond with skepticism, especially if it is someone famous or someone with a very messy past. We might cross our arms and say, “Let’s wait and see if it’s real.” But responding with skepticism betrays an unbelief in the power of the gospel itself. If we doubt God’s power to save the worst of sinners, how can we confidently trust His power to save us?

Salvation is from God alone. Let us guard our hearts against the cynical attitude of the older brother. Instead, let us choose to rejoice—just as the angels do—whenever a lost soul finally comes home.

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Seeking the Treasure of Lost Souls

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 15:1-10. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on March 8, 2026.

Today, we are looking at Luke 15, which contains some of the best-known teachings of Jesus, including the parable of the prodigal son. However, before getting to that famous story, Jesus tells two shorter parables that perfectly set the stage: the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the lost coin. These two parables provide essential insights into evangelism and what it truly means to seek the lost. To understand them, we first have to understand the situation that prompted Jesus to tell them.

Luke tells us that tax collectors and sinners were drawing near to Jesus, and the Pharisees and scribes grumbled, saying that He receives sinners and eats with them. Jesus was speaking directly against the religious leaders of His day who were ignoring and ostracizing entire groups of people. Tax collectors were despised as corrupt traitors who extorted their fellow Jews on behalf of the Roman Empire. The group labeled “sinners” included those living in overt moral failure, but it also included people who were ritually impure due to sickness or disability. Instead of helping these marginalized people find restoration through the grace of God, the Pharisees acted as gatekeepers, completely shunning them.

Unfortunately, this holier-than-thou attitude can still be found in some churches today. There is sometimes a bias that assumes people who look, dress, or speak differently do not belong. But Jesus made His mission clear: it is the sick who need a physician, not the healthy. A church must be a place of healing for those on the margins of society. I remember ministering to a homeless man in Fort McMurray who used to sleep inside bank ATM vestibules to survive the brutal winter. When he came to our church, he clearly did not fit the mold of a typical youth group member, but we welcomed him, ministered to him, and shared the gospel with him. While we must maintain a robust, correct theology, we must never become an exclusive social club that loses its heart for the lost.

Jesus illustrates the effort required to reach the lost through His parables. He describes a shepherd who leaves his ninety-nine sheep in the open country to go after the one that is missing, not knowing how far he will have to travel. He also describes a woman who loses a single coin in her home, lighting a lamp and diligently sweeping the house until she finds it. Both stories emphasize the immense effort and distance we must be willing to cover to seek out lost souls.

Today, that distance is rarely physical. With the world coming to our cities, the distance we must bridge is often one of worldview and culture. Sharing the gospel effectively requires us to understand how different people perceive sin and salvation. In a guilt-based society, like the classical West, sin is breaking a moral law, and Jesus pays our legal debt. In an honor-based culture, which represents much of the world, sin is public shame and broken relationship, and Jesus takes our shame to restore us to honor. In a fear-based society, sin is enslavement to dark forces, and Jesus conquers the powers of darkness to set us free. The gospel never changes, but we must put in the hard work of contextualizing it so people can truly understand their need for grace.

When the shepherd finds his sheep and the woman finds her coin, they immediately call their friends and neighbors to rejoice. Jesus tells us that, in the exact same way, there is immense joy before the angels of God over one single sinner who repents. To the world, one sheep or one coin might not seem incredibly valuable, but to God, every lost soul is a profound treasure. As believers, we must dedicate our lives and our churches to seeking out that treasure, putting in the diligent effort to bridge the gap and share the restorative love of Christ with everyone around us.

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Humble Yourselves Toward One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on 1 Peter 5:1-11. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on March 1, 2026.

We are continuing our series on the “one another” commands. Today, we look at 1 Peter 5, which begins with a specific exhortation to leadership. Peter instructs the elders—the older men leading the first-century church—to shepherd the flock and exercise oversight without being domineering. While church hierarchies look different today, this remains a vital call for anyone in formal or informal leadership. But Peter does not stop with the leaders. He immediately broadens his instruction to the entire congregation: “Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (1 Peter 5:5, ESV).

When we think of humility, we often think of it passively. We picture someone who is exceptional at something but chooses not to brag or boast about it. While that is true, Peter’s command to “clothe yourselves” with humility implies something much more active. Peter is likely conjuring up a very specific memory of Jesus. In John 13, during the Last Supper, Jesus laid aside His outer garments, tied a towel around His waist, and washed His disciples’ feet. He literally clothed Himself in the attire of a servant to perform a menial task. He even washed the feet of Judas, knowing full well that Judas had already agreed to betray Him. Active humility is not just the absence of pride; it is deliberately lowering yourself to sacrificially serve others, even your enemies.

Peter continues, “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:6-7, ESV). Humility before God leads to exaltation, ultimately at Christ’s return. But notice the connection to anxiety. For many of us, the hardest thing to submit to God is our worry. When we allow anxieties to fester, we betray a lack of conviction that God truly cares for us. We foolishly think we can control the situation ourselves, or we become so paralyzed by fear that we stop serving others entirely. Casting our cares on God is an act of active humility. It requires us to admit our limitations and lean on His strength, often through the support and fellowship of our local church community.

We must also remain vigilant against the things that distract us from this humble dependence. Peter warns, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8, ESV). While the first-century church faced brutal physical persecution, we face a different kind of danger in the West: prosperity. As C.S. Lewis illustrated in The Screwtape Letters, prosperity ties us to the world. It makes us feel so at home on earth that we stop looking toward heaven. Wealth and comfort can breed anxiety and distract us from prioritizing Christ. We must guard our hearts against the lie that our ultimate fulfillment is found in the fleeting success of this world.

After we have suffered a little while—whether through genuine hardship or the hollow anxieties of a consumeristic culture—the God of all grace will restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish us. The struggles of this world cannot compare to the eternal glory we have in Christ. Jesus gave us the ultimate example of humility when He emptied Himself and became obedient to the point of death on a cross. As we reflect on His sacrifice, let us aspire to that same active, sacrificial humility toward one another.

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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.

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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.