Well Done, Good and Faithful Servant

Summary of my sermon, based on Matthew 25:19-21. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on January 26, 2025.

This is the final message in our series on stewardship, and I want us to reflect on where we began. Back in Colossians 1:15–17, we saw that everything is God’s. Jesus is described as the firstborn of all creation—not meaning He was created first, but that He holds authority over everything. He’s supreme over all.

And when we understand that, it changes how we live. It changes how we see everything we have. There’s a wrong way to respond to this truth—idolatry. Worshiping the created things instead of the Creator. Or thinking we can bargain with God, trade with Him like we’re equals—“God, I’ll give you this if you give me that.” That’s ridiculous, because everything already belongs to Him. Romans 11 says, From Him and through Him and to Him are all things.

So we defined stewardship this way: bringing glory to God through the careful and responsible management of what He has entrusted to us. That includes our gifts, our time, our resources, our lives. And the key passage that shaped this whole series was 1 Peter 4:10–11. “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another… in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ.”

Last week, we looked at Ecclesiastes 3 and Isaiah 46. The idea that time just “happens” to us doesn’t hold up when we realize God is the one directing it. He holds time in His hands. He’s sovereign over all of history and also the details of our lives. That challenged us to ask: are we stealing time from God? Are we giving too little? Or maybe giving too much, and neglecting the other good things He’s given us to enjoy?

So today, to close the series, we’re going to look at where stewardship is heading. And for that, we turn to the Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25. Now, this parable is part of a much bigger section in Matthew where Jesus is teaching about His second coming. It’s His final discourse—His last big teaching block—and it begins with the disciples asking, “When will these things happen? What are the signs of your return?”

Jesus does answer that question. He talks about the signs—tribulation, the Gospel reaching all nations, the Abomination of Desolation—but then He says in Matthew 24:36 that no one knows the exact day or hour. Not the angels, not even the Son, but only the Father.

So Jesus shifts the focus. Instead of just looking for signs, He wants us to be ready. And that’s where our parable comes in. It’s a picture of a man going on a journey, entrusting his property to his servants—five talents to one, two to another, and one to another, each according to their ability.

Now let’s pause and talk about what a “talent” is. It’s hard to pin down. Some say it’s a large sum of money, others give dollar estimates that range from thousands to millions. But a safe estimate is to compare it to wages. If one talent is roughly two years’ wages, then we’re talking about $70,000 per talent, give or take. That means the one with five talents received about $350,000. The point is—it was a lot.

And this parable teaches us a few critical truths about stewardship. First, because it’s set in the context of Jesus’ return, we realize stewardship is eschatological. In other words, how we manage what God has given us is shaped by the fact that Jesus is coming again. We don’t know when, so we should live ready—always managing what we have with that day in mind.

Second, we see that each servant was given according to ability. That doesn’t mean the one with more is necessarily more capable. We see this in the world all the time—wealth passed down from previous generations, not always to people who know how to handle it. I shared the story of the Nut Rage incident in Korea. Someone with lots of wealth and power, clearly more than they could handle. So the point here is not how much we have, but what we do with what we’ve been given.

Because when we look at the two servants who invested their talents, the master’s commendation to both was exactly the same. “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much.” So God’s not looking for a certain amount of return. He’s looking for faithfulness.

But then there’s the third servant. The one who buried his talent. He had a distorted view of his master. “I knew you to be a hard man,” he said. And that fear led him to do nothing. And here’s what we need to see: a distorted view of God’s character will lead to unfaithfulness. It gives us excuses. But the master responds by calling him wicked and lazy. He didn’t expect a big return—but at the very least, he could have earned interest. But this servant didn’t even try.

That’s why knowing God’s character matters. And it’s why right doctrine matters. Because churches and believers who twist God’s character tend to stop being fruitful. We see that in churches that have embraced worldly ideologies. I mentioned one pastor who claimed Jesus would say, “Blessed are those who end pregnancies.” That’s a gross distortion of God’s heart, and that church has been rapidly shrinking for decades. Because you distort who God is, and people stop being transformed.

So what do we do about that? We gather kindling. Remember that from the first message? Kindling are the little pieces of wood that start the fire. We gather kindling when we read Scripture, pray, worship—those spiritual disciplines that help us know God.

And we do that in community. Growth happens in community. That’s why our church prioritizes Growth Groups. Hebrews 10 says we should stir one another up to love and good works—not neglecting to meet, but encouraging one another all the more as we see the Day approaching.

Now I know this is a different approach to stewardship. Most sermons on stewardship talk about money—about tithing. But stewardship is bigger than that. Tithing, especially the 10% rule, isn’t really a New Testament command. What God wants is generosity. 2 Corinthians 9:7–8 says each one should give what he’s decided in his heart—not under compulsion—for God loves a cheerful giver.

So the point of this whole series has been to give that bigger context. Stewardship isn’t just about what we put in the offering plate. It’s about how we live, because everything belongs to God—our time, our resources, our very lives.

And the more we know Him—the more we seek Him through His Word and through His people—the more faithfully we’ll steward what He’s entrusted to us. And then, when Christ returns, we will hear those beautiful words: Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your master.

A Time for Everything

Summary of my sermon, based on Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on January 19, 2025.

Last week, we kicked off our short series on Biblical Stewardship with a foundational truth from Colossians 1:15–17: Everything belongs to God—because He created everything. That includes our possessions, talents, and yes… even our time.

So if everything is God’s, then Jesus, “the firstborn of all creation,” has authority over everything. And when we’re faced with that truth, we typically respond in one of two wrong ways.

Some respond with idolatry—worshiping the created instead of the Creator. Others try to negotiate with God—“God, I’ll give You this if You give me that.” But as Romans 11:35–36 reminds us: “Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid? For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.”

So what’s the right response? It’s stewardship—the careful and responsible management of what God has entrusted to us, all for His glory.

That’s what 1 Peter 4:10–11 teaches: “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace… in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ.”

Last week, we talked about being stewards of our “stuff”—our money and material possessions. And that can be both hard and easy. It’s hard because we work hard for what we have, and it’s easy to start thinking, why should I give glory to God for what I earned? But it’s easy when we realize that every opportunity, every paycheck, every skill we use—that’s all grace from God.

Even something as small as a tablet is a reminder of God’s grace. Grace that gave me a job to afford it, the energy to work, the wisdom to find it on sale, and a company that lets me pay for it interest-free over 24 months. Amen?

But today we’re turning our focus to something a bit harder to see as God’s grace: time.

Most of us know Ecclesiastes 3:1–8—not because we’ve studied the book, but because we’ve heard the song “Turn! Turn! Turn!” by The Byrds. It’s almost a direct quote from Scripture, except for six extra words at the end: “I swear it’s not too late.”

That version turns a passage about God’s sovereignty into a protest anthem—a plea for peace. And while the intentions might seem noble, it misses the heart of what Ecclesiastes is saying.

The common view is that time “just happens.” There’s a season for everything—life, death, sorrow, joy. That’s just life. Shikata ga nai, the Japanese phrase goes. “It can’t be helped.” Or, in modern terms: “It is what it is.”

But that perspective leaves God out of the picture.

As believers, we know that everything really is God’s. That includes time.

Isaiah 46:9–11 reminds us that God not only declares the end from the beginning, but He also brings it all to pass. He is sovereign—over kingdoms, over seasons, over migrations and decisions. As Job 12:23 says, “He makes nations great, and he destroys them.”

That sovereignty extends to our own lives. In Acts 17, Paul says: “He determined the allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God… In him we live and move and have our being.”

Your move to a new city, your job change, even the friends you’ve made—they weren’t accidents. God purposed them.

It’s easier to believe God controls the big picture—the “macro” level of time. But what about the “micro”? Does God really care how I spend my Wednesday afternoon?

I believe He does.

Now, theologians debate the specifics of how God’s sovereignty interacts with human free will. Some say God rules in general terms and gives us free reign in the details (libertarianism). Others, like myself, lean toward radical sovereignty: that even the moments are under His direction.

This raises tough questions—especially about sin and free will. But the Bible holds this tension: God is sovereign, and we are responsible. We must live within that mystery.

If time belongs to God, then what does it mean to steward it?

Colossians 3:23–24 tells us: “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men… You are serving the Lord Christ.”

It’s not just about giving God our Sunday mornings. It’s also about our work hours, our family dinners, our leisure time. It’s about balance—because yes, even serving too much can be a form of imbalance, a way of substituting time for tithes or works for worship.

So ask yourself: Where am I not giving time to God? Where am I using time as a way to avoid other forms of obedience? Where do I need to rest, recharge, and refocus in Him?

Time is one of the most precious, most limited resources God gives us. But like everything else, it’s not really ours. It’s His.

So the question isn’t just, “What am I doing with my time?” It’s, “How can I glorify God with every minute?”

Let’s be good stewards—not just of stuff, but of the seconds.

Everything is God’s

Summary of my sermon, based on Colossians 1:15-17. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on January 12, 2025.

I once heard a story about a golf pro working at a prestigious course. His job was to help golfers improve their game, offering tips and instruction. One day, he was assigned to assist a Middle Eastern prince. The prince was so grateful for the help that, before leaving, he told the golf pro, “I am very grateful for your help, and I would like to give you a present. Please, tell me what you desire.”

The golf pro was used to receiving tips—usually a $5 bill, maybe a $20 if someone was feeling generous. But asking for money from a prince seemed tacky. Unsure of what to request, he blurted out, “Well, I guess a new golf club would be nice.” The prince nodded and left.

Days passed. Then weeks. The golf pro figured the prince had forgotten. Until one day, he received an unexpected invitation to dine with the prince. A limousine picked him up and took him to one of the finest restaurants in town. After an incredible meal, the prince handed him an envelope. Inside was the title deed to an entire golf club—Pine Valley Golf Club—with his name as the owner!

The prince hadn’t just given him a golf club; he had given him an entire golf course. This story illustrates how the generosity of the wealthy operates on a different level. But as believers, we know that God is far greater than any earthly prince. He is the Creator and owner of all things.

Colossians 1:15-17 tells us:

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” (ESV)

Jesus is supreme over all creation. The term “firstborn” here does not mean He was created, but rather, it signifies His rank and authority. He is before all things, and everything exists through Him and for Him.

Yet, despite knowing this, we often struggle with truly surrendering everything to God. We say we trust Him, but deep down, we try to maintain control over certain areas of our lives. This struggle can manifest in two ways: idolatry and negotiation.

Idolatry happens when we make anything more important than God. It can be obvious, like worshiping wealth, power, or fame. But sometimes, even good things like family, career, or ministry can become idols if they take God’s place in our hearts. As Isaiah 44:17 warns, “And the rest of it he makes into a god, his idol, and falls down to it and worships it. He prays to it and says, ‘Deliver me, for you are my god!’” (ESV)

Negotiation, on the other hand, is when we try to manipulate God. Like Manoah in Judges 13, who wanted to learn the angel’s name to gain power, we sometimes try to bargain with God—offering something in exchange for blessings. But Romans 11:35 reminds us, “Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid?” (ESV)

Instead of trying to control God, we should focus on stewardship. 1 Peter 4:10-11 encourages us to use our gifts wisely, serving others for God’s glory. Rather than seeking personal gain, we should be faithful stewards of what God has entrusted to us.

The golf pro expected a mere club, but he received an entire course. How much more will God, who owns everything, provide for those who fully trust in Him? Let’s lay down our idols, stop negotiating, and embrace the abundant blessings found in surrendering to Christ.

Love One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on John 13:31-35. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on January 5, 2025.

Many who visit Japan often describe it as a friendly place. Having lived there for two years, I understand why. The Japanese are polite, respectful, and thoughtful. Countless tourists share stories of strangers going out of their way to help them, even walking them to their destination instead of just giving directions. I remember my own experience when a cashier ran after me, calling out, “Ohashi! Ohashi!” to hand me a pair of chopsticks I had left behind, even though I didn’t need them.

But does politeness equate to friendship? Not necessarily. Friendship is more than just being courteous; it involves affection, trust, and intimacy. This is something that Japan, despite its outward politeness, struggles with. Take, for example, the phenomenon of individual-booth dining—restaurants designed entirely for people to eat alone. My favorite ramen shop in Osaka, Ichiran Ramen, had multiple floors of individual booths where people could eat without interacting with anyone. While fascinating, it highlights a deeper issue: loneliness.

This isn’t just a Japanese problem. A 2024 survey revealed that 40% of people in Japan reported feeling lonely most of the time. One-third of Japanese households are single-person homes, and the country even has a tragic phenomenon called “Kodokushi”—lonely deaths, where individuals die alone and remain undiscovered for weeks. In Canada, the numbers are eerily similar. Statistics Canada found that in 2021, 40% of Canadians also reported feeling lonely. A loneliness epidemic is taking hold worldwide.

So where does the church fit into all this? Jesus gave us the answer in John 13:34: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” This is not a suggestion—it’s a command. It’s also not a transactional love, the kind where we love only those who benefit us. Instead, it’s a sacrificial love, modeled after Christ’s love for us.

But why does Jesus call this a “new” commandment? After all, the command to love our neighbor isn’t new. It’s found in Leviticus 19:18: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.” The difference is the context. Jesus spoke these words just after Judas had left to betray Him. He was preparing for the cross, where He would demonstrate the ultimate act of love. This was no ordinary love—it was selfless, unconditional, and sacrificial.

In a world plagued by loneliness, the church has a unique opportunity to stand apart. We are called to be a community of radical, faithful, and genuine love. 1 John 4:19 reminds us, “We love because he first loved us.” We don’t love because it benefits us or because people deserve it—we love because Jesus first loved us. And this love is what will draw people in. As one biblical scholar put it, “Nothing so astonishes a fractured world as a community in which radical, faithful, genuine love is shared among its members.”

The world is filled with isolated people dining alone, longing for connection. The church must be different. We are not just acquaintances, colleagues, or classmates. We are family. The love we show one another isn’t optional—it’s our testimony to the world. And when the world sees a church truly loving one another as Christ loved us, they will be drawn to the transformative power of the Gospel.

The Escape of Jesus

Summary of my sermon, based on Matthew 2:13-23. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on December 29, 2024.

One of the hard truths about the Christian life is that we will face discrimination and persecution. It has been this way from the beginning, and it remains a reality today.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned Richard Dawkins and the New Atheist movement. Their so-called intellectual objections to Christianity often serve a deeper agenda—freeing people from what they see as the “repressive” nature of religion. Their campaign slogan, “There’s probably no god. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life,” reveals their true mission. They want people to pursue joy in worldly things—money, power, and pleasure—rather than in God. But does that really lead to fulfillment?

Take John D. Rockefeller, the first American billionaire. When asked how much money was enough, he replied, “Just a little more.” That’s the trap of worldly pursuits—they never satisfy. Yet, atheists like Dawkins would have people chase those things in the name of “enjoying life.”

But their efforts don’t stop at persuasion. Dawkins, in a speech at the Reason Rally, called for open ridicule of Christians, saying, “Mock them. Ridicule them. In public.” The persecution we face in the West may not be as severe as in other parts of the world, but it is real. According to OpenDoors’ World Watch List, 365 million Christians today suffer high levels of persecution and discrimination. In just one year, nearly 5,000 Christians were murdered, over 4,000 were detained, and more than 14,000 churches were attacked.

For example, in Burkina Faso, a Compassion center was recently forced to suspend operations because its staff, all working in a local church, had to go into hiding due to death threats from armed groups. Christianity is, without a doubt, the most persecuted religion in the world. Even secular sources like the BBC acknowledge this, with a 2019 report stating that Christian persecution was at “near genocide levels.”

But persecution is nothing new. Even from the first Christmas, Jesus himself was a target. In Matthew 2:13–23, we see how King Herod, upon hearing of the newborn “King of the Jews,” sought to destroy him. An angel warned Joseph to flee to Egypt, fulfilling the prophecy in Hosea 11:1: “Out of Egypt I called my son.” When Herod realized he had been tricked by the wise men, he ordered the massacre of all male children in Bethlehem under two years old. This fulfilled another prophecy, from Jeremiah 31:15, about Rachel weeping for her children.

Matthew repeatedly highlights how Jesus fulfilled scripture. Sometimes, this fulfillment is precise, as in Isaiah 7:14’s prophecy of the virgin birth. Other times, it is a pattern, like Jesus’ journey paralleling Israel’s Exodus. The key message is that Jesus is the long-promised Messiah, not just for Israel, but for the whole world.

Even in persecution, God’s sovereignty remains. Psalm 115:3 declares, “Our God is in the heavens; he does all that he pleases.” Herod’s brutality could not stop God’s plan. Jesus, though despised as a Nazarene (John 1:46), fulfilled Isaiah 53:4–5, suffering for our salvation.

Christians today can take heart. Our Savior suffered before us, and He stands with us. As Titus 2:11–12 reminds us, “The grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people… to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives.” No matter what we face, we remain steadfast, knowing that God is in control and His purposes will stand.