Balancing Service & Reflection

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 10:38-42. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on February 23, 2025.

The story about the renovations at Morningstar has always stuck with me. Before they changed anything, it looked just like you’d expect a Baptist church to look—choir seats up front, a baptistry behind the stage, nothing flashy. But Morningstar was famous for their Christmas and Easter musicals, and at some point they decided to upgrade their entire auditorium to better support those productions. One major part of the plan was to install this huge 18-foot screen at the back of the stage. It wouldn’t just be for Sunday mornings—it was meant to be a dynamic backdrop for all their dramatic presentations.

They spent a year or two raising funds and finally began construction in January 2011. Funny enough, that was right after I started my internship there. Every week, they’d make progress on the renovations, while we held services with massive white tarps cordoning off the stage area. Every Saturday night, I’d have to set up the temporary stage for Sunday morning, which gave me a front-row seat to all the behind-the-scenes conversations.

One discussion in particular still echoes in my memory. It was about this load-bearing pillar that they discovered behind the old stage. It hadn’t shown up on any of the original plans, but once they tore things down, there it was—right in the way of the projector they needed to use for the giant screen. The projector had to be a specific distance from the screen to work properly, but the pillar blocked the spot where the projector needed to go.

So, they were faced with a choice. Either change the projector setup—make the screen smaller or move the projector to the front—or re-engineer the pillar, which would cost an extra $20,000–$30,000. I’ll never forget when the construction foreman looked at the plans and said, “From what I understand, this screen and that projector are what this whole project is about… so I think you only have one choice—you need to fix the beam, not the projector.”

That moment hit the pastors hard. They realized they had lost sight of the main point. The whole renovation centered around that screen and that projector. It was necessary. And so, they did what had to be done. They adjusted the pillar and kept the vision intact.

That same kind of moment shows up in our passage from Luke 10. Jesus visits the home of Martha and Mary. Martha, being a good host, gets busy with preparations. Mary, on the other hand, sits at Jesus’ feet and listens to Him teach. Martha eventually gets frustrated and complains—“Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to serve alone?” But Jesus doesn’t scold Martha for serving. Instead, He gently redirects her focus. “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

This isn’t about a right or wrong choice. It’s about priorities. Service is good—our church wouldn’t function without it. People set up chairs, prepare meals, run the tech… and Scripture is clear that we are called to serve. But the passage isn’t saying don’t serve—it’s asking, what’s the main thing? What is necessary?

When we get caught up in our tasks—whether they’re good things or not—we risk losing sight of Jesus. We become anxious, overwhelmed, maybe even resentful, like Martha. And in that moment, Jesus gently reminds us: keep your eyes on Me. Choose the better portion.

The amazing thing is that Martha seems to have learned from this. Later, in John 11, when her brother Lazarus dies, it’s Martha—not Mary—who runs out to meet Jesus and confesses her faith in Him. “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God.” That’s one of the great declarations of faith in the Gospels—right up there with Peter’s own confession.

It’s a beautiful full-circle moment. Martha, who was once distracted by service, becomes someone who understands who Jesus truly is. And Mary, who once sat in stillness, eventually serves Jesus in a profound way—anointing Him in preparation for burial.

So, maybe the real question isn’t whether we serve or reflect—but are we serving from a place of reflection? Are we remembering the main thing? Because when Jesus is our portion, our source, and our goal, our service becomes more meaningful. It becomes an act of worship. It keeps us grounded in joy, not overwhelmed with duty. Choose the better portion—because when Jesus is first, everything else falls into place.

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.