Submit to One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on Ephesians 5:15-21. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on Sunday, 3 May 2026.

The concept of submitting is viewed a lot as a negative in our day. In modern society, it is associated with negative obligations, such as submitting assignments to a professor or clicking to submit a payment for bills. The most controversial association involves being forced to submit by someone who has greater power, much like a physical submission in martial arts or Brazilian jiu-jitsu.

Because of this cultural lens, subsequent verses like Ephesians 5:22 (“Wives, submit to your own husbands”) are frequently dismissed as an archaic and misogynistic concept. However, this ignores the preceding foundational command in verse 21: “submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.” To understand this directive, we must redeem the modern idea of submission by examining its surrounding biblical context.

Walking in Love and Wisdom
The primary exhortation of this passage is found in verse 15: “Look carefully then how you walk, not as the unwise but as wise.” This directive is a direct echo of Ephesians 5:2, which commands believers to “walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.”

The ultimate reason we are able to submit to one another is what Jesus did on the cross. Submission in view of the cross is not a manipulation tactic; it is voluntarily done in love.

Biblical wisdom is distinct from human wisdom. Worldly wisdom relies strictly on human reason and the capacity for information. Biblical wisdom has its source directly in God (Proverbs 1:7; James 1:5) and involves the capacity to act on that information appropriately.

Time Management and Quiet Competence
Ephesians 5:16 commands “making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.” In a world where people constantly attempt to dominate each other and force their will onto others, submitting to one another is a highly efficient use of time. It frees us from the time wasted on trying to one-up one another.

Rather than expending time and energy to make yourself look better than someone else, believers can demonstrate quiet competence. Obeying God against the grain of our evil world allows believers to stand out as light in the surrounding darkness. Understanding and obeying the will of God is true wisdom, even if the world dismisses it as foolishness.

The Antithesis of Spirit-Filling
Verse 18 provides a critical contrast: “And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit.”

To understand what it means to be filled with the Spirit, it is instructive to look at its exact opposite: being drunk. Intoxication involves losing physical control, emotional outbursts, disorientation, and confusion. Historically, some movements, such as the 1990s Toronto Blessing, falsely equated inebriation with spiritual filling. Practices such as “falling in the spirit,” hysterical “holy laughter,” “holy animal sounds” (barking like dogs), and staggering as if “drunk in the spirit” are the antithesis of the Apostle Paul’s instruction. God is a God of peace, not confusion (1 Corinthians 14:33).

The Marks of a Spirit-Filled Community
Rather than disorientation, being filled with the Spirit is marked by specific, orderly practices within the community:

Addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs: Singing is explicitly commanded in the New Testament. Music elevates our communication and stirs up our affection for God, acting as a genuine way to show care and concern for each other.

Grounded Communication: Parallel texts like Colossians 3:16 mandate that the “word of Christ richly dwell in you.” The content of our communication must be steeped in the Word of God.

Giving thanks always for everything: Expressing constant gratitude to God serves as the baseline for all actions. Recognizing that everything comes from God makes it easier to look at the needs of one another and respond with generosity—with our time, words, and effort.

Conclusion
The passage culminates with the command to voluntarily submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. If believers successfully value others above themselves, they will fundamentally contrast with a world obsessed with selfish gain. This requires modeling the mindset found in Philippians 2:5-8: humbling ourselves like Christ, who became obedient to the point of death, even death on the cross.

Humble Yourselves Toward One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on 1 Peter 5:1-11. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on March 1, 2026.

We are continuing our series on the “one another” commands. Today, we look at 1 Peter 5, which begins with a specific exhortation to leadership. Peter instructs the elders—the older men leading the first-century church—to shepherd the flock and exercise oversight without being domineering. While church hierarchies look different today, this remains a vital call for anyone in formal or informal leadership. But Peter does not stop with the leaders. He immediately broadens his instruction to the entire congregation: “Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (1 Peter 5:5, ESV).

When we think of humility, we often think of it passively. We picture someone who is exceptional at something but chooses not to brag or boast about it. While that is true, Peter’s command to “clothe yourselves” with humility implies something much more active. Peter is likely conjuring up a very specific memory of Jesus. In John 13, during the Last Supper, Jesus laid aside His outer garments, tied a towel around His waist, and washed His disciples’ feet. He literally clothed Himself in the attire of a servant to perform a menial task. He even washed the feet of Judas, knowing full well that Judas had already agreed to betray Him. Active humility is not just the absence of pride; it is deliberately lowering yourself to sacrificially serve others, even your enemies.

Peter continues, “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:6-7, ESV). Humility before God leads to exaltation, ultimately at Christ’s return. But notice the connection to anxiety. For many of us, the hardest thing to submit to God is our worry. When we allow anxieties to fester, we betray a lack of conviction that God truly cares for us. We foolishly think we can control the situation ourselves, or we become so paralyzed by fear that we stop serving others entirely. Casting our cares on God is an act of active humility. It requires us to admit our limitations and lean on His strength, often through the support and fellowship of our local church community.

We must also remain vigilant against the things that distract us from this humble dependence. Peter warns, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8, ESV). While the first-century church faced brutal physical persecution, we face a different kind of danger in the West: prosperity. As C.S. Lewis illustrated in The Screwtape Letters, prosperity ties us to the world. It makes us feel so at home on earth that we stop looking toward heaven. Wealth and comfort can breed anxiety and distract us from prioritizing Christ. We must guard our hearts against the lie that our ultimate fulfillment is found in the fleeting success of this world.

After we have suffered a little while—whether through genuine hardship or the hollow anxieties of a consumeristic culture—the God of all grace will restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish us. The struggles of this world cannot compare to the eternal glory we have in Christ. Jesus gave us the ultimate example of humility when He emptied Himself and became obedient to the point of death on a cross. As we reflect on His sacrifice, let us aspire to that same active, sacrificial humility toward one another.

Stir Up and Encourage One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on Hebrews 10:19-25. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on January 4, 2026.

Our confidence before God doesn’t come from a spiritual “winning streak” or perfect routines, but from Jesus. Think about confidence the way a team’s championship odds change: they move when wins are on the board. In the Christian life, the decisive win is Christ’s finished work—not our day-to-day highs and lows. He lived sinlessly, died in our place, rose in power, and now brings us into the Father’s presence.

“Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus… let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith” (Hebrews 10:19, 22, ESV). That is the bedrock of assurance.

Why did we ever need such confidence? Because God’s holiness and our sin create a real separation. In the Old Testament, only the high priest entered the Holy of Holies, only once a year, and only with cleansing and sacrifice (see Leviticus 16). The tabernacle curtain embodied that barrier. But when Jesus died, “the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom” (Matthew 27:51, ESV). By His blood, the way is open. Now we draw near with hearts made clean and bodies washed (Hebrews 10:22).

Two distortions erode that gift. First, “Jesus plus.” We start believing we’re accepted because of Jesus and our devotions, attendance, giving, or serving. Those are good fruits, but they are not the root. We don’t add to the cross; we respond to it. Second, trusting the strength of our faith rather than the Savior. Doubts come, trials shake us, and we worry our weak faith disqualifies us. But even “faith like a grain of mustard seed” moves mountains (Matthew 17:20, ESV). Like the desperate father, we pray, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24, ESV). Our confidence rests in Christ Himself; He strengthens and guards us.

On that foundation, Hebrews gives a clear, practical call: “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23, ESV). And then: “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works” (v. 24). That little phrase “consider how” matters. It’s intentional attention, not accidental encouragement. To “consider” is to notice a brother’s burdens, a sister’s gifts, and think creatively about what would actually help them take the next step toward love and obedience.

That kind of thoughtful care requires proximity. So Hebrews adds: “not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near” (Hebrews 10:25, ESV). Streaming is a grace when illness, weather, or distance intervene; but as a rule, embodied fellowship is the ordinary means God uses to grow us. In the room we see each other’s eyes, hear the real tone beneath the “I’m fine,” and obey the Spirit’s nudge to pray, serve, give, or simply listen. The church isn’t a content platform; it’s a Spirit-filled people.

So what does “considering how to stir up” look like this week? Notice who seemed weary on Sunday, who rejoiced, who was missing. Act with a text, a call, a visit, a meal, a prayer, or a practical offer to help. Aim at love and good works; encouragement isn’t mere compliments, it’s oxygen for obedience.

And when we gather at the Lord’s Table, we rehearse the source of our confidence again: Christ’s body given, Christ’s blood shed—for you, for us. Communion is not a reward for the strong but nourishment for the weak who are clinging to Jesus. It recenters our assurance on His finished work, and it rekindles our commitment to “one another” life.

Come boldly—not because you’re on a roll, but because Jesus reigns. Hold fast—not because you never wobble, but because He never wavers. And look around the room—there’s someone God is asking you to “consider” this week. Encourage them toward love and good works until the Day dawns.

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.

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.