Tag: God’s Sovereignty

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Trusting the God Who Finishes What He Starts

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 13:18-35. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on February 8, 2026.

In our last look at the Gospel of Luke, Jesus healed a woman on the Sabbath. This sparked a confrontation with the local synagogue ruler, setting the stage for a broader conflict with the Pharisees. As Jesus gained prominence, the Jewish leaders grew increasingly concerned. This explains one of the major themes in Luke: why the gospel eventually turned toward the Gentiles and how the Jewish leaders came to reject Jesus.

Jesus begins addressing this by asking, “What is the kingdom of God like? And to what shall I compare it? It is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his garden, and it grew and became a tree…” He then compares it to a tiny bit of leaven that a woman hides in flour until the whole batch is leavened (Luke 13:18-21, ESV).

These parables teach that God’s kingdom starts small but grows into something massive. Look at human history: the British Empire was once the largest to ever exist, yet today it is a shadow of its former self. That is the limit of a human-made kingdom. Christianity, conversely, started with a carpenter and twelve fishermen in a backwoods town. Today, it is a global phenomenon—a miracle only God could accomplish.

There is a second message here regarding how long this growth takes. The early Jews expected a sudden, dramatic military redemption, hoping for a leader to free them from the Roman Empire. Because Jesus didn’t fit that mold, they missed His signs. They were stuck in their own mindset of how God was supposed to work.

It is easy to fall into that same trap. Many of you might be waiting on God right now—for healing, for work, or for restored relationships. We must not get bogged down by our own expectations. As Psalm 27:14 (ESV) reminds us, “Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!” God is sovereign. He might not answer on your timeline, but He will provide what is for your good.

Those who wait and trust in the Lord will enter what Jesus calls the “narrow door.” When asked if only a few will be saved, Jesus said, “Strive to enter through the narrow door. For many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able” (Luke 13:24, ESV). The Jewish people largely believed everyone born a Jew would be saved automatically. But Jesus gives a brutal teaching: admission to God’s kingdom is exclusive, not based on heritage.

He warns that many will claim to know Him, but He will reply, “I do not know where you come from. Depart from me.” They will see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom while they are cast out. Yet, their exclusion means our inclusion. God promised Abraham that in him all families of the earth would be blessed. People from the east, west, north, and south will recline at the table.

Despite this rejection, Jesus still had incredible compassion for His people. When warned that Herod wanted to kill Him, Jesus refused to back down. Instead, He mourned for the city rejecting Him: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Luke 13:34, ESV).

God’s patience is incredible, giving us chance after chance. But we cannot mistake His patience for universalism—the belief that everyone will eventually be saved. There comes a point where a choice must be made. You are not saved just because you go to church. What saves you is faith in Jesus Christ alone. As Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6, ESV).

If you don’t know Christ, I pray you come to know Him today. For those who do trust Him, remember Philippians 1:6 (ESV): “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Trust in Him, for He is always worthy of our faith.

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Hope in the God Who Saves

Summary of my sermon, based on Micah 7. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on December 28, 2025.

Amen. Praise the Lord. How many of you remember the Y2K scare? It’s wild to think that was twenty-five years ago. I remember my dad, who worked for Manulife Financial, being on call all night on December 31, 1999, because old systems stored the year with just two digits. People worried that when the calendar rolled to “00,” critical computers might fail. From that anxious night to today—when computers can generate images, video, and text—it’s amazing how much has changed.

One change I’m grateful for is YouTube. I use it not only for entertainment but also for long, informative videos. Some can be heavy. One I watched was about a Mexican mother named Miriam whose daughter was kidnapped in 2014. After paying ransom and still losing her daughter, she channeled her grief into relentless investigation—disguises, patient watching, and clever use of social media—identifying everyone involved and working with police to arrest them one by one. She became a symbol of courage in the face of cartel violence and government inaction. Tragically, on Mother’s Day 2017, she was killed near her home, and her own case remains unsolved. Even though I sensed the video might end that way, it left me deflated. Some evil seems to go unpunished—at least on this side of eternity.

That’s close to how the prophet Micah sounds at the start of chapter 7. Near the end of his ministry, despite warnings and promises of hope, he looks around Judah and sees no fruit. The godly seem gone; leaders are corrupt; neighbors and friends can’t be trusted; even families fracture (see Mic 7:1–6). It’s bleak. And it feels familiar: scandals, exploitation, persecution of Christians, and countless other wrongs. Scripture says we should expect difficult times in the “last days,” with people loving self and pleasure rather than God, keeping a form of religion while denying its power (2 Tim 3:1–5). Those who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while impostors go from bad to worse (2 Tim 3:12–13).

What do we do with that? We can despair or grow cynical, or even start to wonder whether God is really in control. But God is gracious to remind His people of His sovereignty. Think of Elijah. After the dramatic victory over the prophets of Baal (1 Kgs 18), one threat from Jezebel sent him fleeing, discouraged, and ready to give up (1 Kgs 19). God met him, questioned his despair, and reminded him there were seven thousand who hadn’t bowed to Baal (1 Kgs 19:18). Elijah wasn’t alone; God was still ruling.

Micah has a similar turn. Suddenly his tone shifts: “As for me, I will look to the Lord… my God will hear me… When I fall, I shall rise… When I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me” (see Mic 7:7–8). He acknowledges Judah’s sin and the Lord’s indignation, yet trusts that God Himself will plead his cause, bring him into the light, and vindicate His people (Mic 7:9–10). Judgment would come—exile to Babylon—but God promised a remnant, a return, and ultimately a Messiah who would bring complete victory.

That victory arrived in a way no one could have scripted. The prophets dropped clues—Emmanuel, “God with us” (Isa 7:14); the child who is Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Isa 9:6–7)—but the fulfillment exceeded imagination. The Son of God took on flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14). Everything about Jesus’ birth emphasized lowliness and surprise: the scandal of a betrothed virgin with child, a census forcing travel under foreign rule, a stable for delivery, a manger for a crib, angelic news first announced to shepherds, and wise men initially going to the royal city—not to Bethlehem. God downplayed earthly glory to reveal a greater glory: not merely Israel’s political restoration, but salvation for the world (Gen 12:3; Mic 5:2).

Micah 7 closes with this double horizon. First, the Messiah would shepherd His people and restore them, as in the days when God brought them from Egypt, showing them marvelous things (Mic 7:14–15). The nations who opposed God’s people would be humbled (Mic 7:16–17). But beyond geopolitical reversals lies the heart of the good news: God pardons iniquity, passes over transgression, has compassion, and casts our sins into the depths of the sea (Mic 7:18–20). That’s the victory Jesus secured—over sin itself—through His sinless life, atoning death, burial, and resurrection. Everyone who believes in Him receives forgiveness and eternal life (John 3:16–17).

So we live between Advents—remembering the first, waiting for the second. In this in-between, there will be tribulation, yet Jesus says, “Take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Don’t let the darkness make you forget the character of God. Like Micah, look to the Lord. Like Elijah, remember you’re not alone. Like Mary and Joseph, trust God’s quiet, sovereign work that often unfolds in humble places.

As our celebrations wind down and the year turns, let’s ask for grace to resist despair and keep hoping. Practice remembrance: rehearse the gospel, stay in Scripture, pray, worship, and act. And let hope move your hands—do good, seek justice, love mercy, walk humbly with your God (Mic 6:8). Christ has come. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Come, Lord Jesus, come.

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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.