Category: Sermons

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Bethlehem’s Unexpected King

Summary of my sermon, based on Micah 5. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on December 14, 2025.

We’re back in our Christmas series, “God With Us: Advent in the book of Micah.” Micah is one of the “minor” prophets—minor only in length, not in importance. Case in point: Micah 5:2 is one of the best-known prophetic verses of Christmas. We’ve already met it this season because it’s tied to the Bethlehem (peace) candle.

A quick catch-up. Micah’s message moves in cycles of judgment and hope. In chapter 1 we saw God’s terrifying judgment over Israel and Judah’s idolatry. Chapter 2 zoomed in on a particular sin: social injustice—wealthy landowners stealing land from the poor, which also attacked God’s plan for the land to symbolize Israel’s special place with Him. Yet chapter 2 ended with a first glimmer of hope: God would preserve a remnant. Chapter 3 exposed corrupt rulers and even bought-and-paid-for prophets; the judgment climaxed with the loss of the land itself. Then came the stunning reversal in chapter 4: the mountain of the Lord lifted high, the nations streaming to Him, and lasting peace (Mic 4:1–4). Still, Micah 4:9–10 warned of labor pains first—exile and suffering—followed by redemption. And 4:11–13 lifted our eyes all the way to the end of the age.

Into that context, Micah 5 opens. Verse 1 anticipates the humiliation of Judah’s king under siege—fulfilled in Zedekiah’s collapse during the Babylonian conquest (2 Kgs 25). Verses 1 and 3 echo the labor-pains image from 4:9–10: there will be real pain before joy is born. Right between those pains sits the promise: “Bethlehem Ephrathah” (Mic 5:2). For us that sounds obvious; for Micah’s audience it was shocking. Bethlehem was an insignificant little town—so small it isn’t even listed among Judah’s 120 towns in Joshua 15. Yes, David came from Bethlehem and God promised David an everlasting house (2 Sam 7), but David’s royal sons were born and reigned from Jerusalem. No one expected the Messiah’s arrival to arise from a tiny, no-name place like “house of bread.”

And that’s exactly the point. This is God’s modus operandi. He loves to use what is weak and lowly to shame the strong, so no one can boast in His presence (1 Cor 1:27–29). Bethlehem’s smallness magnifies the greatness of the One who comes from there.

Micah then uses shepherd imagery: the Ruler will “stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the LORD… and he shall be their peace” (Mic 5:4–5a). If “the LORD is my shepherd” (Ps 23), and the coming King is the Shepherd of God’s flock, then we are being nudged to recognize that the Messiah is God Himself come near—Immanuel (Isa 7:14). What was mystery to the prophets has been revealed to us in Christ: the Word became flesh (Jn 1), the Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep (Jn 10), and His peace guards our hearts (Phil 4:7). This is the already and the not yet of Advent: in His first coming Jesus truly accomplished salvation; in His second coming He will consummate it. So we celebrate His first Advent and, with patient hearts, we wait for the second (Jas 5:7–8).

The rest of Micah 5 widens that hope. In 5:5b–6, “Assyria” functions as a cipher for the enemies of God’s people across time: the Messiah delivers His people when the invader treads within our borders. In 5:10–11, God tears down horses and chariots—the ancient symbols of security—to teach us that our real safety is in Him. For us that means our ultimate security isn’t in bank accounts, careers, or health metrics but in the love of God in Christ from which nothing can separate us (Rom 8:37–39). In 5:12, He exposes the futility of sorceries and fortune-tellers; today’s versions have glossier packaging—“inside tips,” algorithmic hype, spiritualized self-help—but true wisdom is found in Christ alone (1 Cor 1:25). In 5:13–14, He uproots idols and sacred pillars; our idols may be good things turned ultimate—family, work, reputation, even ministry—but the new heart He gives enables us to worship the Creator above every created thing (Ezek 36:26). And 5:15 reminds us there is an ultimate, righteous victory in the Messiah. Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ; so be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord (1 Cor 15:57–58).

So, what should we carry into this week of Advent? First, don’t miss the quiet glory of Bethlehem. God delights to work through what the world overlooks. If your life feels small or your contribution hidden, remember where the Savior’s story began and let that free you to be faithful where you are. Second, let the Shepherd-King be your peace. Bring Him your anxieties and fractured thoughts and ask Him to rule in your heart with His peace. Third, live the already/not-yet tension well: trust Him as your security, seek His wisdom in His Word, turn from subtle idols, and labor in hope—because none of it is in vain.

Praise the Lord that the victory began in that tiny town two thousand years ago. May we not let the season’s noise distract us from the season’s news: the Son of David, born in Bethlehem, is our Shepherd, our Peace, and our King. Come, Lord Jesus.

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Bear with One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on Colossians 3:12-15. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on December 7, 2025.

Resilience is an interesting attribute in dire situations. It’s something celebrated across cultures, and it’s the kind of thing people make movies about. Take the story of Louis Zamperini. His life was told in the book—and later the film—Unbroken. Zamperini was a bit of a delinquent as a youth, but he got into long-distance running and competed in the 1936 Berlin Olympics. Then World War II began. In 1941 he joined the U.S. Army Air Corps and became a bombardier in the Pacific, flying missions against Japanese-held islands. During a search-and-rescue mission his plane had mechanical failure and crashed. He and two others survived on a small life raft, fighting off sharks and nearly capsizing in a typhoon. On the 47th day they reached land—the Marshall Islands—only to be captured by the Japanese. They were tortured, malnourished, and beaten as prisoners of war for years until the war ended. Even after release, Zamperini struggled with what we now call PTSD, but eventually he attended a Billy Graham crusade and gave his life to Christ. That began a different kind of journey—a different kind of resilience.

His story is awe-inspiring, but it turns out most people actually have a high “baseline resilience.” Studies show that the majority who suffer trauma don’t end up with severe, chronic psychiatric issues; many do bounce back with family, community, and professional support, and some even find growth and meaning through what they endured. I’m not minimizing trauma—those who carry lingering effects like PTSD need care, not stigma—but for the vast majority, our God-given capacity to recover is real.

Interestingly, the opposite often shows up with things that aren’t catastrophic. For example, 80–95% of people who lose weight regain it within two years. When it comes to endurance in everyday disciplines—dieting, sustained lifestyle change—we’re not so resilient. Another area is relationships. “Cutting out toxicity” is the buzzword now—cutting off toxic bosses, coworkers, friends, even family. I read pieces after the 2024 U.S. election asking whether to invite relatives who voted for the other party to Thanksgiving. Now, there’s a difference between toxicity and abuse; abuse should never be tolerated. But on a lot of plain differences and offenses, our age seems increasingly unwilling to endure.

That is the opposite of what our passage teaches. We’re in our series on the “one another” commands; this is our eighth, since we’ve been doing one on the first Sunday each month. Today’s command is “bear with one another” (Colossians 3:12–15). Paul tells us, as God’s chosen, holy, and beloved, to put on compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another; and if anyone has a complaint against another, forgiving each other as the Lord has forgiven us (Colossians 3:12–15). We tend to hear “bear with one another” and think, “Just put up with little annoyances for the sake of peace.” But Paul ties it to real forgiveness when real hurt has happened. This is more than personality quirks. It’s learning to endure and forgive when we’ve actually been wronged.

In Romans, Paul frames it this way: “We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves,” seeking our neighbor’s good to build them up (Romans 15:1–2). That implies closeness. If we truly function as a family, conflict will happen. You actually have to care to get hurt. I’d be more concerned if a church never had conflict—it might mean we’ve stopped engaging from the heart. So we must bear with the failings of others.

There are limits, though, because the aim is to build up (Romans 15:2). Some things shouldn’t be “endured.” Abuse must never be endured. And habitual, unrepentant sin must not be ignored; it destroys witness and may reveal salvation issues. Hebrews warns that if we go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, we face judgment (Hebrews 10:26–27). That’s why Jesus and the apostles give the church a process for discipline: not to shame, but to rescue. If we “bear with” ongoing, unrepentant sin, we may miss the chance to call someone to the gospel.

A recent example of courage here is what happened in the Southern Baptist Convention removing Saddleback Church from fellowship over theology—specifically complementarian convictions about the pastoral office. Saddleback started with solid theology, but over time some positions were revised using a hermeneutic that treats certain biblical commands as merely first-century cultural. Where does that end? If Scripture is culture-bound wherever we feel tension, what guards us from drifting on issues like the sanctity of life? The SBC chose to uphold what they are convinced Scripture teaches, even though Saddleback is a very large church. The point isn’t to relitigate that vote here, but to say: bearing with one another doesn’t mean papering over serious doctrinal or moral departures. Love sometimes looks like hard, humble clarity.

So how do we rightly bear with one another when real hurt (but not abuse or entrenched sin) is involved? Paul already gave us the clothing to put on: compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience (Colossians 3:12). Compassion and kindness mean more than gritting our teeth; they move toward the other’s good. Humility and meekness remember that today I’m bearing with your failings; tomorrow you may be bearing with mine. Patience is the bedrock of Christlike endurance.

“Above all,” Paul says, “put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony,” and “let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts,” since we were called to peace in one body—and be thankful (Colossians 3:14–15). That throws us back to the first sermon in this series: “love one another.” Love is the only way the one-another commands actually happen. The problem is that love is hard, especially if we’ve absorbed a transactional view: I love you because you benefit me. When the benefit dries up, so does the love. But Jesus says the greatest love lays down its life for friends (John 15:13). Biblical love is sacrificial and others-focused. Paul’s famous description of love—patient, kind, not envious or boastful, not rude or self-seeking, not irritable or resentful; rejoicing with the truth; bearing, believing, hoping, and enduring all things—confronted a divided church (1 Corinthians 13:4–7). That’s the kind of love that makes real bearing possible.

We can’t manufacture that love. We love because he first loved us (1 John 4:19–21). So we have to keep cultivating our hearts in the love of God—stirring our affections for Christ in the ways that most help us: worship, prayer, meditation, study of the Word. As we come to Advent, pick up the devotional if you haven’t. Let it help you set your heart on Christ’s first coming and long for his second. And let the peace of Christ rule in your heart (Colossians 3:15). He is the Prince of Peace, and by his death, burial, and resurrection he has made peace for us with God. Without Christ’s peace within, this kind of love will feel impossible. If you don’t know him, I invite you to come to him—let his peace rule in your heart today. And if you do know him, be thankful. This is what we remember at the Lord’s Supper: Advent’s hope, the cross’s grace, and the promise of his return. Only through the gospel can we truly love God and one another, and only with that love can we bear with one another in a way that honors Christ.

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The Price of Injustice

Summary of my sermon, based on Micah 3. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on November 9, 2025.

Today we continue our Christmas sermon series, God With Us: Advent in the Book of Micah. As the title suggests, we are going through one of the minor prophets—Micah. We started early in October because there is so much we can learn about God and his character here, and it’s not common to walk through a prophetic book at Christmas.

As a reminder: read Micah in one sitting. It takes about twenty minutes. If you’ve done it already, read it again—and try a different translation (I preach from the ESV, but in preparation I also consult NLT, NIV, NASB). Expect more encouragement about Bible reading as we near year-end.

In the first sermon we saw the broad concern of the prophets—idolatry. For Micah (and his contemporary Isaiah in Judah) the message was urgent because the judgment preached against Judah had already fallen on the northern kingdom. After David and Solomon the nation split; Israel had many evil kings and was almost completely conquered by Assyria in Micah’s day. So Micah can point south to Judah and say, “Learn from the north.” We also noted that prophetic preaching is often judgment and wrath—but a truly good and righteous God does not allow evil to go unpunished. And yet with the threat of judgment, God also offers hope and deliverance.

In the second sermon we looked at Micah’s particular concern in Judah: social justice. We must be careful with that term. There is a real difference between contemporary social justice (man-centered—problems and solutions are human structures and fixes) and biblical social justice (God-centered—sin is ultimately against God; helpless in our sin, we cannot reform ourselves, so God must step in with salvation). That brings us to today, which continues Micah’s particular charge; now he turns from wealthy land-grabbers to the leadership of Israel and Judah.

“Hear, you heads of Jacob and rulers of the house of Israel! Is it not for you to know justice?” (Micah 3:1)

Leaders should know justice. Micah then uses graphic imagery:

“You who hate the good and love the evil,
who tear the skin from off my people
and their flesh from off their bones,
who eat the flesh of my people,
and flay their skin from off them,
and break their bones in pieces
and chop them up like meat in a pot,
like flesh in a cauldron.” (Micah 3:2–3)

He compares their evil to cannibalism—universally taboo—to show how disgusting their injustice is. The issue is not merely ignorance; ignorance is not a defense. Worse, they are willfully ignorant: “You who hate the good and love the evil.” This reminds me of Jonah, who ran from preaching to Nineveh because he knew God would be merciful if they repented:

“But it displeased Jonah exceedingly… And he prayed to the LORD and said, ‘…That is why I made haste to flee to Tarshish; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster.’” (Jonah 4:1–2)

Micah continues:

“Hear this, you heads of the house of Jacob… who detest justice and make crooked all that is straight, who build Zion with blood and Jerusalem with iniquity.” (Micah 3:9–10)

Leadership affects people—but influence also flows both ways. Leaders shape the people, and people shape leaders. Consider Herod at the first Christmas:

“When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.” (Matthew 2:3)

So the whole society is implicated. And the rot spreads to religious leadership:

“Its heads give judgment for a bribe; its priests teach for a price; its prophets practice divination for money; yet they lean on the LORD and say, ‘Is not the LORD in the midst of us? No disaster shall come upon us.’” (Micah 3:11)

This is the ancient version of prosperity preaching—preying on depraved desires, promising health, wealth, and prosperity in God’s name while enriching themselves (right down to private jets), feeding on the flock that can least afford to be fleeced. The result:

“Therefore because of you Zion shall be plowed as a field; Jerusalem shall become a heap of ruins, and the mountain of the house a wooded height.” (Micah 3:12)

This is heavy because the land is a covenant sign of Israel’s special relationship with God. Its loss is a severe judgment.

What do we learn? We are commanded to pray for leaders:

“First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.” (1 Timothy 2:1–2)

It’s easy to pray for those we agree with; harder to pray for corrupt leaders. Remember: Paul has in mind Roman emperors—some of the most vicious persecutors of Christians. Pray not only for wisdom; pray for repentance. And pray at all levels: not just prime minister or premier, but mayor, councillors, and especially church leaders—board and council—those guiding the spiritual direction of GCF Toronto. Influence goes up and down; if we would influence our leaders for good, we must be formed by Scripture. As we near year-end, plan again to read the whole Bible. If you stopped, don’t try to “catch up.” Just start again—and keep going.

Now to what I consider the scariest part of this judgment—God’s silence:

“Then they will cry to the LORD, but he will not answer them; he will hide his face from them at that time, because they have made their deeds evil.” (Micah 3:4)

Concerning the corrupt prophets:

“Therefore it shall be night to you, without vision, and darkness to you, without divination. The sun shall go down on the prophets… The seers shall be disgraced… for there is no answer from God.” (Micah 3:6–7)

Many of these leaders likely started well, but turned their gifts into tools for profit; what they used for gain becomes their shame. In contrast Micah says:

“But as for me, I am filled with power, with the Spirit of the LORD, and with justice and might, to declare to Jacob his transgression and to Israel his sin.” (Micah 3:8)

God’s silence is severe judgment—giving people over:

“Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity… because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator.” (Romans 1:24–25)

Historically, after Malachi, God stopped speaking for about 400 years (the intertestamental period). Then, at Christmas, the Word Himself came:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him… In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:1–5)

Ultimately, God chose not merely to speak through people, but to come as the Word—Jesus Christ. If you do not know Christ, don’t let it get to the point of God giving you over to your passions, or of no longer hearing His call. With the warning of judgment comes the offer of salvation in Jesus.

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Greet One Another With a Holy Kiss

Summary of my sermon, based on 2 Corinthians 13:12. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on November 3, 2025.

How do you view greeting? For many of us, it’s probably not something we think about very much. Among my friends and colleagues—even my manager—it’s not really something we think about. Usually for me, it’s just a simple “what’s up,” because I grew up in Scarborough in the late 90s. That was our thing back then. For the most part here in the West, it’s not something we think of very often.

That’s not the case in other countries. Recently I came across a reel about greetings in Japan where, depending on your status relative to the person you’re greeting, there are various appropriate ways to greet. If you happen to see the president of your company in the morning, the appropriate greeting would be “Ohayougozimashita”—the longest, most polite form of “good morning.” For a manager it might be “Ohayougozaimasu,” for a senpai it’s simply “Ohayou,” and for a friend or colleague it can be as short as “Sus.” In general, the longer the greeting, the more polite and formal; the shorter, the more casual. Japan is much more rigidly structured in that way than the West.

Something else I found on the interwebs: people crashing out on LinkedIn over how you greet someone on the phone. One recruiter from North Carolina posted (in all caps): “I returned the candidate’s call. His first words shocked me.” The candidate had left a very professional message, a high-level profile, but when the recruiter called back (from the same number), he answered, “Hello.” Apparently that mattered a lot. The recruiter couldn’t understand why professionals answer without saying who they are. As you can imagine, the post was met with ridicule. My favorite reply: “It’s obviously unacceptable to answer just ‘hello.’ You have to say, ‘Hello, is it me you’re looking for?’” (Yes, that’s Lionel Richie.)

In all seriousness, while LinkedIn recruiters may be a little overzealous, greetings do matter. They matter enough that the Apostle Paul commanded Christians how to greet one another. This is one of the “one another” commands we’re covering: “Greet one another with a holy kiss.” (2 Corinthians 13:12, ESV) Paul repeats it in Romans 16:16; 1 Corinthians 16:20; 1 Thessalonians 5:26. Peter echoes it with a slight variation: “Greet one another with the kiss of love.” (1 Peter 5:14, ESV)

Depending on your cultural background, that may sound strange. But in Toronto, this might not be so foreign. Think of the Kennedy Kiss & Ride—a staple in Scarborough culture. It captures the idea: not an erotic kiss, but a simple greeting (often a cheek-kiss). In North America, that’s not predominant anymore; in parts of Europe, Latin America, and the Middle East, it still is. In the Philippines there’s the “besso-besso”. But, even within one culture, families vary. On my mom’s side, we greet elders with a kiss on the cheek (I don’t “mano” my Lola; I kiss her as a greeting). On my dad’s side, it’s different. Not better or worse—just different.

The key point: kissing has been, and continues to be, a common greeting in many parts of the world, especially among family and close friends. A biblical example appears in Acts 20 when Paul says farewell to the Ephesian elders: “And when he had said these things, he knelt down and prayed with them all. And there was much weeping on the part of all; they embraced Paul and kissed him, being sorrowful most of all because of the word he had spoken, that they would not see his face again.” (Acts 20:36–38, ESV)

That brings us to the adjective holy. What does a holy kiss mean? One way to understand it is by its opposite: unholy kisses.

The most infamous unholy kiss is Judas’s betrayal: “Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, ‘The one I will kiss is the man. Seize him and lead him away under guard.’ And when he came, he went up to him at once and said, ‘Rabbi!’ And he kissed him. And they laid hands on him and seized him.” (Mark 14:44–46, ESV)

Another unholy kiss is a kiss of deception in 2 Samuel 20. After David replaced Joab with Amasa, Joab met Amasa on the road: “And Joab said to Amasa, ‘Is it well with you, my brother?’ And Joab took Amasa by the beard with his right hand to kiss him. But Amasa did not observe the sword that was in Joab’s hand. So Joab struck him… and he died.” (2 Samuel 20:9–10, ESV)

In the church, we may not often face outright betrayal, but we can be tempted to deceive—to greet warmly while harboring jealousy, anger, or bitterness. Paul instructs us otherwise: “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:31–32, ESV)

That is the content of a holy greeting: kindness, tenderheartedness, forgiveness. A beautiful picture of a holy kiss appears in Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son: “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.” (Luke 15:20, ESV)

It is a kiss of forgiveness and grace, overshadowing great wrong. I think Paul had this kind of grace in mind when he urged the Corinthians to greet one another with a holy kiss—especially given his painful history with them. He had confronted sexual immorality, greed, idolatry, slander, adultery, and divisions. He wrote a hard letter and made a painful visit. Then he explained:

“For I made up my mind not to make another painful visit to you. For if I cause you pain, who is there to make me glad but the one whom I have pained?… For I wrote to you out of much affliction and anguish of heart and with many tears… to let you know the abundant love that I have for you.” (2 Corinthians 2:1–4, ESV)

So when Paul says “greet one another with a holy kiss,” he means: you are family now. Show closeness and affection in a way that fits the gospel you believe and the salvation you’ve received in Christ.

In closing, I’m not saying we need to start kissing each other as part of our greetings. We’re in Canada; that’s not our common form. But we should practice whatever is culturally appropriate to show we are not mere acquaintances—we are the family of God, brothers and sisters in Christ. Our greetings should be affectionate and reflect our relationship to each other. They should not be unholy or deceitful, hiding things that need to be addressed. They should be genuine and true, holy, and filled with the self-sacrificing grace and love Christ showed us when he died on the cross—a gospel we remember especially when we celebrate the Lord’s Supper.