Author: Chris Evangelista

Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever - WSC
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The Genealogy of Jesus

Summary of my sermon, based on Matthew 1:1-17. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on December 1, 2024.

If you’ve never heard the song “Matthew’s Begats” by Andrew Peterson, I highly recommend checking it out. It’s a fun and catchy way to hear the genealogy of Jesus from Matthew 1. I first learned it as a teenager when my youth group performed it in a Christmas cantata, so hearing it now brings back some great memories.

Now, if you compare the song lyrics to the text in Matthew 1:1-17, you might notice a few name variations. For example:

  • Aram (KJV, Greek) = Ram (ESV, NIV, NKJV)
  • Asa (KJV, NKJV, NIV) = Asaph (ESV, Greek)
  • Amon (KJV, NKJV, NIV) = Amos (ESV, Greek)
  • Jehoiachin = Jeconiah (all versions)

These aren’t contradictions, just alternate spellings. But one interesting change in the song is how it refers to Josiah “grandfathering” Jehoiachin, whereas Matthew 1:11 states Josiah was Jehoiachin’s father. The Old Testament timeline confirms that Jehoiachin was actually the son of Jehoiakim (2 Kings 24:6), meaning Matthew skips a generation. This isn’t a mistake—Matthew arranges the genealogy in a structured way, emphasizing Jesus’ place in Jewish history.

Matthew 1:17 explains this:

“So all the generations from Abraham to David were fourteen generations, and from David to the deportation to Babylon fourteen generations, and from the deportation to Babylon to the Christ fourteen generations.” (ESV)

Matthew isn’t giving a complete genealogy; he’s structuring it to highlight the significance of Jesus’ birth. That’s why many scholars call Matthew “the Gospel for the Jews.”

Each Gospel emphasizes a different aspect of Jesus:

  • Matthew: The Son of David
  • Mark: The Son of Man
  • Luke: The Son of Adam
  • John: The Son of God

Matthew was writing to a Jewish audience, familiar with the Old Testament. He quotes it 54 times—more than any other Gospel. He references Jewish customs without explanation, assuming his readers understand things like fasting, ritual washing, and temple tax. More than any other Gospel, Matthew presents Jesus as the Messiah who fulfills Old Testament prophecies. That’s why he records Jesus saying:

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” (Matthew 5:17, ESV)

But here’s the amazing thing—the genealogy of Jesus isn’t just about Jewish history. It also highlights God’s plan to save the whole world.

Consider the five women mentioned: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba (Uriah’s wife), and Mary. Two of them—Rahab and Ruth—were Gentiles. Bathsheba was married to a Hittite, and all five of these women were associated with scandal in some way.

  • Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute and tricked her father-in-law into sleeping with her (Genesis 38).
  • Rahab was a Canaanite prostitute who helped Israel’s spies in Jericho (Joshua 2).
  • Ruth approached Boaz in a way that, while culturally acceptable, could be seen as scandalous (Ruth 3).
  • Bathsheba committed adultery with King David, leading to devastating consequences (2 Samuel 11).
  • Mary was pregnant before her marriage to Joseph, which would have been scandalous to those who didn’t understand her divine calling (Matthew 1:18-19).

And it’s not just these women—many of the men in Jesus’ lineage were deeply flawed. King David was a man after God’s own heart, but he was also guilty of adultery and murder. Ahaz sacrificed his own son to idols (2 Kings 16:3). Manasseh led Israel into idolatry and child sacrifice (2 Kings 21:6).

Why does this matter? Because Jesus didn’t come from a perfect lineage—He came to save sinners. Paul writes:

“The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost.” (1 Timothy 1:15, ESV)

We aren’t saved by our own goodness but by grace:

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:8-9, ESV)

And just as Jesus came to save the lost, we are called to share this message with the world:

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20, ESV)

Jesus’ genealogy is more than a list of names. It’s a testament to God’s grace. No matter our past, Jesus welcomes us into His family.

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I Will Follow

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 9:51-62. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on November 17, 2024.

If you were a Christian in the 90s, you probably remember the WWJD bracelets—short for “What Would Jesus Do?” This phrase has deep roots in Christian history, tracing back to Charles Spurgeon in 1891. However, it became mainstream in 1896 when Charles Sheldon used it as a tagline in his novel “In His Steps.” His idea was to look to Jesus as a moral example in daily life, which helped birth the Social Gospel movement—an effort to apply Christian ethics to social issues.

This is a good thing. James 1:27 tells us, “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” Likewise, 1 Peter 2:21 states, “For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps.” However, the WWJD movement also had its flaws, primarily its commercialization and oversimplification of discipleship.

Following Jesus is not just about wearing a bracelet or making a moral decision in a single moment—it is a lifelong commitment that requires sacrifice. Luke 9:57-62 presents three responses to discipleship that highlight its demands.

First, Jesus tells a man who eagerly volunteers to follow Him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:58). This reveals that following Jesus may require giving up security and comfort. Many missionaries, like Robert and Sheila Cousins, have left everything to serve Christ. Even Christian leaders such as John Piper and Tim Keller could have pursued more wealth and success elsewhere but chose humble service instead.

Next, Jesus responds to another man who wants to delay discipleship until after burying his father: “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:60). This shocking statement underscores that following Jesus must take the utmost priority. Matthew 6:33 reminds us, “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”

Finally, Jesus warns against looking back when called to follow Him: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62). Discipleship requires focus. Hebrews 12:1-2 exhorts us to “run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.”

Ultimately, we cannot do this on our own. Jesus set His face toward Jerusalem, resolved to go to the cross for our salvation (Luke 9:51). When the Samaritans rejected Him, James and John wanted vengeance, but Jesus rebuked them, teaching mercy. He was on a mission to save both Jews and Samaritans, showing us that His path leads to the cross and the mercy of God. 1 Peter 1:3 reminds us that we have “a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”

So, what sacrifices do you need to make to follow Christ more fully? How can you rearrange your life to better reflect His kingdom?

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The Least is Great

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 9:43b-50. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on November 10, 2024.

In Asian dramas, especially Korean and Japanese ones, a powerful scene often plays out: a chairman or politician arrives, and employees line up, bowing in reverence. The greater the person’s importance, the larger the crowd bowing. It’s a striking display of honor that mirrors how societies worldwide esteem power, wealth, or status. Many aspire to such honor, imagining what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of such reverence. Yet, as believers in Christ, we know this pursuit of worldly greatness is not the way of Jesus.

In Luke 9:43-45, the disciples witness Jesus’ astounding power. After casting out a demon that others couldn’t, “they were all marveling at everything he was doing” (Luke 9:43, ESV). Amid the crowd’s awe, Jesus speaks to his disciples, saying, “Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men” (Luke 9:44, ESV). The people marvel at Jesus, yet the same people would soon betray Him. This contrast between marveling and betrayal is profound.

Even today, many, like Jordan Peterson, admire Jesus’ teachings for their practical wisdom but stop short of recognizing Him as Lord. They see Jesus as useful for human flourishing, not as the Savior who delivers us through His suffering and death. This was also the disciples’ struggle—they expected a conquering Messiah to overthrow Rome, not a servant who would suffer and die. They failed to understand that Jesus was ushering in a kingdom not built on worldly power but on humility and sacrificial love.

Jesus confronts their misunderstanding with a powerful lesson. As the disciples argue about who among them is the greatest—a debate laced with irony given their recent failures—Jesus places a child by His side and says, “Whoever receives this child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me receives him who sent me. For he who is least among you all is the one who is great” (Luke 9:48, ESV). In their culture, children symbolized the lowest, most dependent members of society. By elevating the least, Jesus flips worldly ideas of greatness upside down.

This countercultural view of greatness challenges our sinful nature. We instinctively seek to elevate ourselves, replaying arguments in our minds where we always emerge victorious. At the heart of sin is “I,” our desire to make much of ourselves. But the gospel calls us to something radically different. Philippians 2:5-8 reminds us of Christ, who, “though he was in the form of God… emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant… He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (ESV). True greatness is found in humility and service, modeled perfectly by Jesus.

How do we combat our self-centeredness? By making much of Christ. As John the Baptist said, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30, ESV). Greatness in God’s kingdom is not about demanding others bow to us but bowing in humility before God and serving others in love.

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The Majesty of God’s Word

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 9:37-43a. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on November 3, 2024.

The last time Jesus performed an exorcism, the reaction was striking. In Luke 8:28, the crowd asked Jesus to leave, trembling in terror at His power. But in Luke 9:43, after Jesus cast out a demon from a boy suffering seizures, the crowd responded differently: “And all were astonished at the majesty of God.” This shift in reaction reflects something profound—Jesus’ majesty wasn’t just reserved for mountaintop moments like His transfiguration. It was displayed even in the midst of human suffering.

This exorcism followed the Transfiguration, where Peter, James, and John glimpsed Jesus’ divine glory alongside Moses and Elijah. Peter misunderstood, suggesting that tents be built for all three figures, as if they were equals. But Jesus stands far above even the greatest prophets. Reflecting later on this moment, Peter declared, “We were eyewitnesses of his majesty” (2 Peter 1:16). What they saw on the mountain was now revealed to the crowd through Jesus’ authority over evil.

However, the story begins with the disciples’ inability to help. A desperate father brought his afflicted son to them, but they could not cast out the demon. Luke 9:40 recounts the father’s plea: “I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.” How could the disciples, who had been given authority over demons (Luke 9:1) and seen Jesus perform countless miracles, fail here?

The answer lies in where they placed their trust. Instead of relying on God, they relied on what had worked before. This shift is a common pitfall, one even Moses succumbed to. When God instructed him in Numbers 20 to speak to a rock to provide water, Moses struck it instead, as he had done previously. Though water flowed, Moses’ failure to trust God led to severe consequences. He acted out of habit, not obedience, and was barred from entering the Promised Land.

The disciples faced a similar issue. They had seen success in exorcisms and healings before, but this time, their faith faltered. Jesus addressed their lack of faith directly in Matthew 17:20, saying, “Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.”

What about us? How often do we fall into routines, trusting in past methods or our own strength instead of relying on God? Whether in ministry or daily life, it’s easy to go through the motions and lose sight of the One who empowers us. But God calls us to a deeper trust. Philippians 2:13 reminds us, “For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”

To experience God’s renewing strength and majesty, we must seek Him intentionally—through Scripture, prayer, and worship. Let’s not let familiarity breed monotony. Instead, let’s marvel at His creation, like the northern lights or Niagara Falls, and be reminded of His glory. As Isaiah 40:31 promises, “They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles.”

Ultimately, it’s Christ’s work in us that reveals His majesty. When we take up the rhythms of faith—reading, praying, and worshiping—we align ourselves with His power. Let’s trust in Him fully and find strength to carry on, proclaiming His glory in all we do.

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The Transfiguration

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 9:28-36. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on October 20, 2024.

The stories of Moses and the Tent of Meeting in Exodus set the stage for understanding one of the most awe-inspiring moments in the Gospels: the transfiguration of Jesus. Moses had a unique intimacy with God, described as speaking “face to face” (Exodus 33:11), though not literally seeing God’s face. When Moses asked to see God’s glory, the Lord hid him in the cleft of a rock, allowing him only a glimpse of His back while proclaiming His merciful and gracious character (Exodus 34:5–6). The effect of this divine encounter was visible—Moses’ face shone so brightly that the Israelites were afraid, and he had to wear a veil (Exodus 34:29–30).

Fast forward to the New Testament, and we find Jesus ascending a mountain with Peter, James, and John. There, His divine glory was revealed. Luke 9:29 describes, “The appearance of his face was altered, and his clothing became dazzling white.” Unlike Moses, whose face reflected God’s glory, Jesus radiated His own glory, for He is God. This moment wasn’t just a display of divine splendor; it was a confirmation of His identity and mission.

The appearance of Moses and Elijah with Jesus on the mountain deepens the significance. Moses, the great lawgiver, and Elijah, the great prophet, represent the Law and the Prophets—both pointing to Jesus. They spoke with Him about His “departure” (Luke 9:31), a reference to His impending death and resurrection. This affirmed that Jesus’ mission to suffer and die wasn’t a departure from God’s plan but its fulfillment. Isaiah 53 foretells this: “He was pierced for our transgressions… and with his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).

Peter, in his zeal, misunderstood the event. Suggesting tents for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah (Luke 9:33), he seemed to place Jesus on equal footing with the other two. But the voice of God corrected this: “This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!” (Luke 9:35). This declaration echoes through Scripture, affirming Jesus’ unique status as God’s Son and the culmination of all the Law and Prophets.

The imagery here connects back to the Old Testament. The cloud that enveloped them recalls the Shekinah glory, the visible presence of God, which guided Israel and filled the temple (Exodus 13:21; 1 Kings 8:10). In Jesus, God’s glory is no longer distant or veiled—it has become incarnate. As John 1:14 proclaims, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory.”

The transfiguration is not merely an isolated miracle; it’s a powerful affirmation of Jesus’ divine nature and His purpose to redeem humanity. Like the disciples, we can sometimes misunderstand or undervalue His glory, but Scripture calls us to see Jesus for who He truly is: the Son of God, the Savior, and the fulfillment of God’s eternal plan. In Him, the full radiance of God’s glory shines, not to terrify, but to invite us into His presence.