Outdo One Another in Showing Honour

Summary of my sermon, based on Romans 12:9-13. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on March 2, 2025.

The world has its own way of defining honor—bravery in battle, sacrifices made for others, accomplishments that inspire awe. Just think of Telesforo Trinidad. Most of us had never heard his name, but the US Navy did something extraordinary in his memory. They decided to name a warship after him—one of their most powerful destroyers. Why? Because in 1915, after surviving a deadly boiler explosion aboard the USS San Diego, he ran back—twice—into the fire and smoke to rescue two fellow sailors. And he did this not in the heat of combat but during peacetime. That’s the kind of gallantry that earned him the Medal of Honor, an award given only to those who go above and beyond the call of duty. His story reminds us that true honor often looks like self-sacrifice and courage, even when no one is watching.

That’s the kind of example that easily earns respect. When someone risks their life or achieves something extraordinary, we naturally want to honor them. But in the Kingdom of God, things work differently. As followers of Christ, we’re not just called to recognize those moments of greatness—we’re called to outdo one another in showing honor. That’s not just about giving credit where it’s due. It’s about a radical kind of love that seeks to lift others up whether or not the world thinks they deserve it. Romans 12:10 tells us, “Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.” It’s not a suggestion; it’s a command. It’s how we love genuinely, with the kind of affection that sees each other as family.

Paul doesn’t just say, “Love one another”—he says to do it with brotherly affection. That’s the love you have for your family. You don’t love your kids because they always behave. You love them because they’re yours. In Christ, we’ve been adopted into the same spiritual family. Ephesians 2:19 says we’re no longer strangers but members of the household of God. That means our love for one another should be deep, genuine, and rooted in shared identity. And if we love like that, then honoring each other becomes an extension of that love. It’s not something we tack on—it’s how love expresses itself.

And then there’s that fascinating word: outdo. Paul could’ve said “honor one another,” and left it at that. But he ups the ante. He says we should try to outdo each other in this. In other words, if someone honors you, you try to go even further in honoring them back—not to boast, but because Christ has loved you so deeply that you can’t help but overflow it onto others. It’s not a competition of pride, but a pursuit of humility. It flips the world’s values upside down. Where the world wants to be better than, Scripture calls us to be better at lifting others up.

Of course, it’s easy to show honor to someone who seems worthy of it. Think of the benefits Medal of Honor recipients receive: higher pensions, free education for their kids, even a tradition where they’re saluted by generals. But the real challenge is this: how do we honor someone who doesn’t seem worthy? What if someone hasn’t done anything particularly impressive? Or worse—what if they’ve hurt you or disappointed you?

That’s where Philippians 4:8 comes in. Paul says to focus on whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and praiseworthy. That means we look for the good in others—even when it’s hard to find. And when someone truly is in the wrong, honoring them might mean lovingly confronting them. James 5:19–20 tells us that turning someone back from sin is a way to save them and cover a multitude of sins. In that moment, your honor isn’t about flattery or praise. It’s about loving them enough to help them return to truth.

Peter doesn’t leave room for exceptions either. “Honor everyone,” he writes in 1 Peter 2:17. Everyone. Not just the people you like. Not just Christians. Not just the ones who seem honorable. And yes, that includes even the emperor—most likely Nero at the time—a man known for his cruelty. That’s how upside down God’s Kingdom is. We show love and respect because God made people in His image, not because they’ve earned it.

Now let’s be honest. That kind of love isn’t natural. When we’re hurt, we want to withhold honor. But the gospel reminds us that we didn’t deserve honor either. We infinitely dishonored God. And yet, Romans 5:8 says that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” He honored us in the most profound way—by laying down His life. If God can show us that kind of mercy, surely we can extend a measure of it to others.

To love like this, to honor like this, requires grace. It means letting go of our pride. It means dying to self. But when we do it, we don’t just reflect kindness—we reflect Jesus. We become ambassadors for Christ, showing the world a different way to live. So let’s outdo one another—not in achievement, not in accolades, but in showing honor.

Be Kind to One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on Ephesians 4:29-32. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on February 2, 2025.

If you grew up Filipino in the 2000s or early 2010s, chances are you knew the name Manny Pacquiao. It didn’t matter if you lived in Manila or migrated halfway across the globe—if Pacquiao had a fight on, you were likely crowded around a TV with friends or family, proudly watching him take title after title. He wasn’t just a boxer; he was a symbol of pride. And in all those conversations about him, one phrase came up over and over again: “pound-for-pound, one of the best boxers of all time.” That phrase stuck with me—not just for boxing, but because it reminds me of something else that packs an unexpected punch: the book of Ephesians.

See, the phrase “pound-for-pound” exists because comparing fighters of different sizes directly doesn’t make sense. A featherweight like Pacquiao can’t be expected to go toe-to-toe with a heavyweight and win based purely on strength. So pound-for-pound is a way to measure skill, heart, and impact, regardless of physical size. And that’s exactly what makes Ephesians so remarkable. It’s short—only six chapters, about 3,000 words, maybe the length of a college essay—but the theological depth it contains makes it one of the most powerful books in the Bible, pound-for-pound. Many scholars agree it belongs right up there with Psalms, Romans, and the Gospel of John in terms of influence.

Paul’s structure in Ephesians is also simple and effective. In chapters 1–3, he lays out the Gospel—what God has done. In chapters 4–6, he turns to how we should respond—how we live in light of that truth. Ephesians 4:1 sets the tone: “Walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called.” This calling should transform everything about us. We don’t live for God to earn salvation—we live for God because we have salvation.

Jesus made this clear through the parable of the unforgiving servant in Matthew 18. The story begins with a man who owes a king an unthinkable amount of money—ten thousand talents. If we estimate one talent as two years’ wages, we’re talking about a debt of 700 million dollars. It’s a debt that can never be paid, and yet the king forgives him entirely. But then, that same servant turns around and refuses to forgive someone who owes him about three months’ wages. It’s shocking. Jesus’ point is clear: if we’ve been forgiven an impossible debt by God, how can we not show that same grace to others?

That’s what Ephesians calls us to: to walk like people who know what it means to be forgiven. Ephesians 2:8–10 says it plainly: “For by grace you have been saved through faith… not a result of works… For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.” We don’t do good to be saved—we do good because we are saved. And that leads us to Ephesians 4:32, where Paul gets very practical: “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”

But Paul doesn’t just give this one command. He sets it up through a contrast that begins back in verse 17. He describes what it looks like to live apart from God: futility, darkness, alienation, ignorance, and a hardened heart. It’s not that non-believers can’t do anything good—common grace exists. But no one can live up to the standard of a holy God apart from Christ. The general direction of life apart from God leads to self-centeredness, sensuality, and impurity. We’ve seen this play out in history—under regimes that rejected God, like Mao’s China, Stalin’s USSR, and Nazi Germany, countless lives were destroyed.

But Paul says, “That is not the way you learned Christ!” (Ephesians 4:20). We’ve been called to something better. We’ve been given a new self, created to reflect God’s righteousness and holiness (Ephesians 4:24). So when Paul says, “Be kind,” he’s not just giving good advice—he’s telling us to live out the new identity we’ve been given in Christ.

And then Paul drills down even more. He tells us to watch how we speak: “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up… that it may give grace to those who hear” (Ephesians 4:29). Corrupting talk isn’t just profanity—it’s speech that spoils, that tears down, that spreads negativity like mold in a fridge after a power outage. Instead, our words should build up, heal, and offer grace.

He continues in verse 31: “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.” Yes, anger will come, and even Paul admits in verse 26 that it’s possible to be angry and not sin. But bitterness, rage, slander, and malice—those aren’t fitting for someone who has been forgiven so much.

In the end, Paul draws a stark contrast. On one side is bitterness, wrath, and harmful words. On the other side is kindness, forgiveness, and grace. And he makes it simple for us: Walk in a manner worthy of your calling. Be kind. Forgive. Speak life. Not to earn God’s love, but because you already have it.

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.