Tag: Christ-Centered Worship

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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.

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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.