Tag: Jesus at the Centre

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The Journey of Walking by God’s Grace

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 14:25-35. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on February 22, 2026.

Praise the Lord, and welcome. I was completely surprised by all the snow we had this morning! My office is in the basement, so I didn’t see what it looked like outside until I was walking out the door. But praise the Lord for His mercies and grace that we all arrived safely.

I have mentioned my taste in entertainment enough that you probably know I enjoy Japanese manga and anime. One of the first series I really got into was called “Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple.” It is a classic underdog story about a bullied high school student who decides to learn martial arts to get stronger. He ends up becoming the disciple of five different martial arts masters. It is a comedy, but a running gag is how brutally these masters train him, pushing him until he is physically broken down. While exaggerated, it highlights a true principle: becoming a true disciple of anything, whether it is mixed martial arts or the disciplines of the Shaolin warrior monks, requires an extreme, life-altering level of dedication.

For us as Christians, the word “disciple” is so familiar that we sometimes lose its weight. But in Luke 14, Jesus does not pull any punches about the extreme dedication required to follow Him. He was on His way to Jerusalem—and ultimately to the cross—and He began preparing His followers for the reality of what discipleship truly costs.

Jesus turned to the crowds accompanying Him and said, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26-27, ESV).

That is a shockingly strong statement. Of course, Jesus is using comparative language here. He is not commanding literal hatred of your family. Instead, He is saying that your love for Him must be so supreme that, in comparison, your love for everything else looks like hate. Jesus must be the absolute, unrivaled priority in your life. The Apostle Paul understood this completely when he wrote, “Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:8, ESV).

In the West today, we generally do not face the threat of physical death for our faith. No one is forcing us to renounce Christ at the edge of a sword. However, we face something that can be just as dangerous to our devotion: a consumeristic culture constantly vying for our time and attention. Are we willing to sacrifice our leisure, our social media, and our entertainment for the sake of Christ? Even our legitimate priorities—our jobs, our health, putting a roof over our families—must not take precedence over Him.

Following Jesus is not something to casually stumble into. To emphasize this, Jesus gave two short illustrations: a man building a tower who must first sit down and count the cost to see if he can finish it, and a king going to war who must deliberate if he has the troops to win (Luke 14:28-32). If you do not count the cost of discipleship up front, you will fall away when the reality of following Jesus becomes difficult. This is exactly why the prosperity gospel fails; it invites people to a shallow, comfortable Christianity without ever mentioning the cross we are called to bear.

A true disciple’s journey involves constant self-reflection. Are you truly prioritizing Jesus in your life? Jesus warned that salt that loses its taste is useless and thrown away (Luke 14:34-35). Merely attending church, going to a growth group, or knowing the right vocabulary does not make you a Christian. As Ephesians 2:8 (ESV) reminds us, “For by grace you have been saved through faith.” Salvation is a free gift, but true faith radically transforms our priorities. Let us continually lay our burdens and distractions down, fully surrendering to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord.

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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.