Category: Sermons

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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.

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Thanks and Giving – From Gratitude to Generosity

Summary of my sermon, based on Colossians 3:15-17. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on October 13, 2024.

Gratitude isn’t just about saying “thank you” and moving on—it’s an active response that shapes our actions. I’ve been thinking about this while remembering a particular flight I took many years ago. Normally, I’m the type to wear shorts on a flight, even in the middle of winter, as I did when I used to fly from the frozen streets of Fort McMurray to tropical destinations. But on one flight back from a mission trip in the Philippines, my attire changed thanks to an unexpected upgrade to business class. Out of gratitude for the experience, I swapped my casual shorts for proper pants. It was a small action, but it reflected my appreciation for the generosity I’d received.

This story reminds me of what Paul teaches in Colossians 3:15-17, where he connects gratitude to specific actions three times. First, he writes, “And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful” (Colossians 3:15, ESV). The “peace of Christ” isn’t just about individual calm or the absence of conflict. It’s much deeper—rooted in the biblical concept of shalom, which encompasses welfare, harmony, and completeness. This peace comes from Jesus, who reconciled us to God through His sacrifice, as Paul explains in Ephesians 2:13-14: “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace.”

Knowing this, how can we not feel gratitude? But more importantly, what does that gratitude inspire in us? Paul says this peace should unite us, binding us together as one body. Gratitude for salvation isn’t a passive emotion—it motivates us to live in harmony with others, reflecting the unity Christ calls us to.

Paul goes further in Colossians 3:16: “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.” Gratitude should also lead us to immerse ourselves in Scripture, not just for our own sake but to share it with others. This sharing happens through teaching, correcting, and even worshiping together in song. It’s a communal expression of thanksgiving, as we gather in unity, centered on the Word of Christ.

Finally, Paul sums it up in Colossians 3:17: “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” This is where gratitude transforms everything—our words, actions, and even our attitude. It’s no longer about obligation but about joyfully responding to God’s grace. As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 9:7-8, “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you.”

True gratitude is more than a polite acknowledgment; it’s a life-altering force. It moves us to unity, to immerse ourselves in God’s Word, and to act generously in all that we do. If we truly understand the peace and salvation Jesus has given us, then our gratitude will be visible—not just in our words but in the way we live each day.

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Who Do You Say That I Am?

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 9:18-27. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on October 6, 2024.

Jesus often used moments of reflection to teach deep spiritual truths, and one such moment unfolds in Luke 9:18-27. After a whirlwind of ministry—healing, teaching, and feeding thousands—Jesus retreats to pray with His disciples. As they gather, He asks them a question that cuts through the noise of their experiences: “Who do the crowds say that I am?” The answers are varied. Some think He’s John the Baptist returned to life, others suggest Elijah, and still others, one of the ancient prophets resurrected. These responses, though intriguing, miss the mark.

Jesus then sharpens the focus: “But who do you say that I am?” Peter boldly answers, “The Christ of God.” Finally, someone gets it! In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus praises Peter for his insight, explaining that this revelation came directly from the Father. Yet, Peter’s understanding is incomplete. While he correctly identifies Jesus as the Christ, he doesn’t yet grasp the full meaning of this truth. This is evident when Jesus explains that being the Christ involves suffering, rejection, death, and resurrection. Peter, horrified, rebukes Jesus, only to be sternly corrected: “Get behind me, Satan!” (Matthew 16:23).

The tension in this passage is familiar. Many recognize Jesus but fail to fully comprehend who He is or what He demands. Even demons acknowledge Him as “the Son of the Most High God” (Luke 8:28), and Satan himself knows His identity (Matthew 4:3). But recognition without submission or faith is hollow. It’s not enough to know Jesus intellectually; we must embrace Him as Lord in every area of life.

Sadly, people often reduce Jesus to something less than He truly is. Some see Him as a great moral teacher, appreciating His wisdom while ignoring the radical demands of His teaching, like loving God above all else (Luke 14:26). Others treat Him as a self-help guru, twisting His words to fit modern ideas of personal happiness. A progressive blogger once claimed Jesus’ central message was to love oneself, an interpretation that misses the point entirely. Jesus calls us to self-denial, not self-indulgence (Mark 12:30-31). Still others view Him as a genie in a bottle, expecting Him to fulfill their every wish. This “prosperity gospel” mindset misrepresents the heart of the Christian life and leads to disillusionment when prayers don’t go as expected.

True discipleship means taking up our cross daily and following Jesus (Luke 9:23). It’s a call to deny ourselves and prioritize Him above all else. Like the man who sells everything to buy a treasure-filled field or a pearl of great value (Matthew 13:44-46), we must see Jesus as the most precious gift. This kind of devotion keeps us from being ashamed of Him or His words (Luke 9:26).

When we truly know Jesus as “The Christ of God,” our lives are transformed. This knowledge moves beyond intellectual assent to wholehearted faith, marked by a willingness to sacrifice everything for the One who gave His all for us. As Paul declares, “I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes” (Romans 1:16). May we, too, live boldly in that truth.