Category: Sermons

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United in the Gospel

Summary of my sermon, based on Philippians 1:27-2:4. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on October 12, 2025.

Our text is Philippians 1:27–2:4. Hear Paul’s charge (ESV): “Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel, and not frightened in anything by your opponents… So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind… Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”

Unity is fragile. I remember where I was on September 11, 2001—how a moment galvanized nations. Yet the legacy of the “war on terror” is complicated. Mission creep set in: Afghanistan led to Iraq, “freedom fries” replaced French fries in some restaurants, and “mission accomplished” was declared far too soon. Two decades later, Afghanistan returned to Taliban control. That’s what mission creep does—when objectives drift, unity fractures. And this isn’t just geopolitics; it happens to churches. When our mission creeps away from the gospel, unity crumbles.

Paul gives us the basis of gospel unity: “Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ.” The phrase translated “manner of life” reflects a citizenship idea (politeuesthe)—live as citizens. He’s cueing what he’ll say later: “But our citizenship is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20). Read 1:27 like this: “Let your conduct as heavenly citizens be worthy of the gospel.” Why this framing?

First, citizenship speaks to duty. In earthly civic life we obey laws, pay taxes, serve on juries, vote, stay informed. In the same way, our heavenly citizenship carries responsibilities, not just benefits. Today, citizenship talk often centers on benefits. I’ve seen it up close: many reacquire Philippine citizenship primarily for property rights. Benefits matter, but if that is all citizenship means, something vital is lost. Many Christians think of heavenly citizenship the same way—deliverance from hell, mansions in glory, and for some, invented “benefits” like guaranteed wealth and health. But Scripture calls us to responsibilities too: “Walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called” (Eph. 4:1). Benefits are real and glorious; duty is real, too.

Second, citizenship warns against dual allegiances. Roman citizenship in Paul’s day was costly and coveted (see Acts 22:27–28), and it could easily eclipse heavenly priorities. Paul redirects the Philippians: live according to the gospel, not the shifting demands of society. We see what happens when churches let society set the agenda. I think of a nearby congregation that once had a self-professed atheist minister and now organizes around values untethered from the gospel. It looks more like a social club—nice people, a knitting circle—but with little affection for Jesus. What’s the point of meeting weekly if not to know, love, and obey Christ? When earthly agendas dominate, gospel unity dissolves.

What happens when we are united in the gospel? Paul says it plainly: “…not frightened in anything by your opponents” (Phil. 1:28). Gospel unity produces courage because it provokes opposition. The very existence of a holy, united church is “a clear sign… of their destruction, but of your salvation, and that from God” (v. 28). That’s hard truth. The gospel divides. As John 3:36 says, “Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life; whoever does not obey the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him.” No wonder the world pushes back.

Yet we need not fear. “Fear not, for I am with you” (Isa. 41:10). “God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control” (2 Tim. 1:7). And Paul goes further: suffering for Christ is not an accident; it is a gift. “For it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake” (Phil. 1:29). How can suffering be a gift? Because it brings reward: “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial… he will receive the crown of life” (Jas. 1:12). Because it re-weights our hearts: “This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:17). And because it shapes us now: “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope… because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit” (Rom. 5:3–5).

We don’t have to look far to see a world groaning—earthquakes, storms, disease, lonely deaths. I recently watched a story from a Japanese cleaning company that specializes in “kodokushi,” lonely deaths where people go undiscovered for weeks. The owner, also a Buddhist monk, performed rites and told a grieving sister he hoped her brother would enter Nirvana. She replied, “I hope he is able to enter heaven.” That aching uncertainty is everywhere apart from Christ. The world is full of suffering; we need the living hope of the gospel, and we need each other—united—to endure and witness.

How then do we maintain gospel unity? Paul repeats himself for emphasis: “Complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind” (Phil. 2:2). He knows division can destroy a church. He pleads elsewhere, “that there be no divisions among you… for it has been reported to me… that there is quarreling among you” (1 Cor. 1:10–11). Unity is not optional; it is essential to faithfulness and mission.

And he tells us how, with simple, searching commands: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Phil. 2:3–4). That’s the way. Lay down selfish ambition. Refuse conceit. Cultivate humility. Consider others as more significant. Look to their interests. If each of us looks out for the others, all needs are met and unity is preserved.

It also happens to be Thanksgiving. Gratitude steadies unity. “Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship with reverence and awe” (Heb. 12:28–29). We have received an unshakable kingdom. So, let’s live as heavenly citizens worthy of the gospel, stand firm in one Spirit, strive side by side, refuse fear, embrace the gift of suffering, and, in humility, look to the interests of one another—with reverence, awe, and thanksgiving.

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Called to True Repentance

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 12:35–48. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on September 14, 2025.

This morning we looked at Luke 12:35–40, where Jesus tells His disciples, “Stay dressed for action and keep your lamps burning, and be like men who are waiting for their master to come home from the wedding feast, so that they may open the door to him at once when he comes and knocks.” His message is simple: always be ready. We don’t know the day or the hour of His return, so every moment of our lives ought to be lived in readiness.

The preacher reminded us that this is not a new call for God’s people. Many Christians in the last century looked at world events and believed the Lord’s return was near. On November 29, 1947, the United Nations voted to establish a Jewish homeland after nearly 1,800 years of exile. For Bible-believing Christians, this looked like a direct fulfillment of prophecy, like Amos 9:14–15 where God promised to plant His people back in their land never to be uprooted again. If Israel was back in their homeland, many believed the rapture was just around the corner. Nearly eighty years have passed, and while some things have come to pass, others like the rebuilding of the temple have not. But Scripture reminds us in 2 Peter 3:8–9 that God’s timing is not like ours: “With the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.” What seems slow to us is actually God’s mercy, giving time for more to come to repentance.

Of course, Christians have understood prophecy in different ways. Some see the millennium as a literal thousand years still to come, others see it as symbolic of the present church age, and still others see it as the spread of the gospel before Christ returns. But whatever our viewpoint, one truth remains the same: Jesus is coming again. We may debate the details, but we cannot ignore the command to be ready.

Jesus uses two pictures to describe readiness. He says, “Stay dressed for action,” or as the old translations put it, “gird up your loins.” In those days, men wore long robes that would get in the way of work or travel, so they would tuck them up into their belts so they could move freely. To stay dressed for action means to live ready, unentangled, unhindered, able to obey quickly. Then He says, “Keep your lamps burning.” In other words, don’t let your faith burn low. Don’t grow drowsy in your walk with God. Be alert, be awake, because He could come at any moment.

And then Jesus gives a surprising promise. He says that when the master returns and finds his servants awake, “Truly, I say to you, he will dress himself for service and have them recline at table, and he will come and serve them.” That is astonishing. The servants are the ones who ought to serve, but here the Master serves them. What a picture of the blessing Christ will give to those who remain faithful and ready.

But there is also a sobering side. Jesus says His coming will be like a thief in the night. You don’t get a calendar notice for when a thief will show up; he comes suddenly. That’s how Christ’s return will be—unexpected, swift, like lightning flashing across the sky.

Peter wanted to know if this warning was just for the apostles, but Jesus’ answer shows it is for everyone. Every servant will give an account. The servant who knows his master’s will and ignores it will be judged severely. The one who is careless with what he has been given will also be held responsible. And then Jesus lays down the principle: “Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required.” Week after week we hear the Word of God. That is a gift, but it also carries responsibility. We cannot treat His Word lightly.

The call is clear. Live watchfully. Keep your faith burning. Be faithful in what God has given you. Christ could come at any moment, or our life could end at any moment. Either way, the question remains: will He find us ready?

Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus.

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Instruct One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on Romans 15:14-16. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on September 7, 2025.

It’s been a little over five hundred years since Martin Luther posted his Ninety-five Theses and sparked the Protestant Reformation. We often summarize that movement with the five solas, but there’s a pastoral thread that can be overlooked: the question of language in worship and in our Bibles. For centuries much of Western Christianity heard Scripture read publicly in Latin—even when few understood it. The Reformers pressed forward the conviction of Scripture alone: if the Bible is our final authority for faith and practice, then God’s people must be able to hear and read it in their own tongue. That conviction helps explain why Luther translated the Bible into German and why, over time, churches moved toward the language of the people.

That ties directly to our text: “I myself am satisfied about you, my brothers, that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge and able to instruct one another” (Romans 15:14, ESV). Paul is not only speaking to pastors; he is addressing the church. Because the gospel has taken root, ordinary believers—indwelt by the Spirit—are able to teach and admonish one another. He adds that he writes “very boldly by way of reminder, because of the grace given me by God to be a minister of Christ Jesus to the Gentiles… so that the offering of the Gentiles may be acceptable, sanctified by the Holy Spirit” (Romans 15:15–16, ESV). Paul’s ministry is by grace, and our mutual ministry is too.

Yesterday I sat in on an Evangelism Explosion preview. One of the guests, Richard, professed faith in Christ—praise God. In another group a man named Greg voiced a familiar objection: a pastor stands at a podium and tells people what to believe. I would answer this way: Christian preaching isn’t someone imposing opinions; it is the Spirit opening the text he inspired. As Paul says, “And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual” (1 Corinthians 2:13, ESV). And the sermon is only one hour a week. There are 167 other hours where the command of Romans 15:14 lives—around dinner tables, in small groups, over coffee, on phone calls—where believers gently, humbly bring God’s Word to one another.

Jesus promised this help for all his disciples: “But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you” (John 14:26, ESV). If you belong to Christ, the Spirit is your Teacher. You are not left to yourself, and you are not disqualified from speaking God’s truth in love.

With that privilege comes a boundary. We do not teach our hunches or preferences; we teach what God has said. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil. It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones” (Proverbs 3:5–8, ESV). Peter presses the same point: “And we have the prophetic word more fully confirmed, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place… knowing this first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture comes from someone’s own interpretation. For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Peter 1:19–21, ESV). The Spirit who inspired the Word never contradicts the Word.

And here is the purpose: we teach one another so that our lives might be an acceptable offering to God, sanctified by the Holy Spirit (Romans 15:16). Mutual instruction is priestly service. It keeps pointing us back to the gospel—Christ crucified, buried, and risen; repentance and faith; walking by the Spirit. If you want to grow in this calling, begin here: know the gospel and know your Bible. Read it daily. Read it with someone. Memorize a verse you can share this week. Ask, “How does this passage lead me to Christ?” Then look for one concrete opportunity to encourage, correct, or comfort a brother or sister with the Word.

As we come to the Lord’s Table, we remember that “as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26, ESV). Church, you are full of goodness, filled with knowledge, and—by the Spirit—able to instruct one another. Let’s walk in that grace together.

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Abraham’s Test and Christ’s Fulfillment

Summary of my sermon, based on Genesis 22:1-14. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship York on August 31, 2025.

Music captures attention, sets the tone, stirs the affections, and helps us remember truth. The Psalms repeatedly command it: “Oh sing to the Lord a new song.” Many Sundays we might forget a sermon outline but carry a line of a hymn all week. That’s not an excuse for poor preaching; it’s a reminder of how powerfully God uses singing in worship.

To think more deeply about worship, we turn to the first mention of the word in Scripture: Genesis 22. There we learn, first, that worship is a response. God speaks, and Abraham answers, “Here I am” (Gen 22:1). We don’t initiate worship; God calls, commands, and invites. Romans 12:1 says, “Therefore… present your bodies… this is your spiritual worship.” The “therefore” points back to who God is (Rom 11:33–36). He deserves it.

Second, worship requires preparation. Abraham rose early, saddled the donkey, split the wood, selected companions, and traveled three days (Gen 22:3–4). Leaders prepare setlists and slides; musicians practice for years. But all of us must also prepare our hearts. Life distracts and wounds. That’s why Jesus says, “Come to me… and I will give you rest” (Matt 11:28–30).

Yet here’s the heart of it: Worship is Christ-centered. On the way up Moriah, Abraham told his servants, “I and the boy will go… we will worship, and we will come again” (Gen 22:5). How could he say that when God had commanded him to offer Isaac? Hebrews 11 explains: Abraham considered that God could raise the dead (Heb 11:17–19). And when the knife was raised, God provided a substitute—a ram caught in a thicket (Gen 22:11–13). Moriah points us to Calvary, to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

Jesus is our Passover Lamb (John 1:29; 1 Cor 5:7). “He was pierced for our transgressions… and by his wounds we are healed” (Isa 53:5). Because he “became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross,” God “highly exalted him,” so that at the name of Jesus every knee bows and every tongue confesses he is Lord (Phil 2:8–11). We worship Jesus not merely because he inspires us, but because he saved us. The cross is the ground of his unique worthiness and the reason heaven’s song declares, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain” (Rev 5:12).

Left to ourselves, our hearts are “idol factories,” crafting gods in our own image or offering God lip service while our hearts are far away (Matt 15:7–9). The cross changes that. There, Jesus not only purchases our forgiveness; he wins our affection and grants us access. The cross is the objective evidence of God’s love. Whatever burden you carry—grief, doubt, the “dark night of the soul”—hear his invitation: “Come to me… and I will give you rest” (Matt 11:28). Because God’s wrath was poured out on Jesus, there is none left for those in him. So we don’t just admire Christ—we are drawn to adore him. The Spirit takes the finished work of the Son and turns reluctant people into willing worshipers.

Lift your eyes, then, from Moriah to heaven’s throne room: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain… To him be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!” (Rev 5:11–14). That is where our singing on earth is headed.

In summary: Worship begins as God’s call and our response, deepened by intentional preparation. But it finds its center and power in Christ crucified and risen. We worship because of the cross—Jesus is worthy—and we worship through the cross—Jesus makes us willing and able. Turn your eyes upon Jesus; look full in his wonderful face, and let the things of earth grow strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace.

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Called to be Free from Anxiety

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 12:22-34. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on August 24, 2025.

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing” (Luke 12:22–23, ESV). This passage represent a movement from last week’s exhortation, “be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions” (Luke 12:15) to today’s call: do not be anxious. Jesus turns from those who have to those who have not. Whether it is abundance or need, the message is the same: there’s more to life than things. To the rich: don’t hoard, be generous. To the needy: do not be anxious.

Jesus gives three illustrations. First, “Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!” Ravens in Israel were like our city pigeons—plentiful and least appreciated—yet God cares for them. Then Jesus asks, “Which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” Worry drains your energy and changes nothing. It’s the stress we feel when we can’t control what’s happening.” We cannot do “as small a thing” as add an hour to our lives, but God can. He added not just an hour but fifteen years to Hezekiah’s life: “I have heard your prayer… behold, I will add fifteen years to your life.” Anxiety is the opposite of trusting God.

Second, “Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” Grass and flowers are temporary: “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.” If God so clothes what is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, “O you of little faith”? Again, the call is to trust him.

Third, Jesus redirects priorities: “Do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried… Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you.” This echoes the more familiar wording in Matthew 6: “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” This does not mean every Christian should quit work and rely on almsgiving. Some are called to raise support—missionaries, like those who cannot work except in “tent making” situations—but most are not expected to stop earning. Your job may be God’s way of providing for you, your family, the church, and missionaries. The point is priority: seek first the kingdom.

So when Jesus says, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give to the needy… Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old… For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” he is giving the highest standard—a superlative—to make the point. The standard is to put your complete trust in God by making his kingdom the absolute priority. Our priorities are revealed by where our money goes and what we worry about. A “golden child” story illustrates this: where the value is, the resources and thoughts go. Follow your spending and your worries, and you will find your treasure.

When we do not trust God, we lean on ourselves. “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths… Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD, and turn away from evil. It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones” (Prov. 3:5–8). Not trusting God leads to being wise in our own eyes, not fearing the Lord, and turning toward evil. Bribery shows how both rich and poor can be tempted—whether out of coveting more or out of desperation. A traffic stop in Makati, a suggested bribe, and a 4,000-peso fine show how easy it is to trust in one’s own power rather than in God, and how such corruption keeps a nation in poverty.

This is a high calling, especially for those in need. But the things of this world are fleeting. “Do not love the world or the things in the world… the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever” (1 John 2:15–17). “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above… Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (Col. 3:1–3). You can try to control everything and be consumed by worry, or you can lay it all at the feet of Jesus.

Hear his invitation: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest… you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28–30). Whether you are in abundance or in need, come to Jesus. His yoke is easy. His burden is light.