Serve One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on Galatians 5:13-15. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on July 6, 2025.

When you hear the word “freedom,” what comes to mind? For many people, it’s economic freedom—having enough money to do whatever you want. Whether it’s traveling, taking up hobbies, or just relaxing on a beach, freedom often looks like having no obligations. And while that kind of freedom sounds appealing, it’s often just a dream. In reality, we carve out little moments of freedom—like weekends or holidays—tiny escapes from the things we must do. But this leads to a misunderstanding: that freedom is simply the opposite of obligation. That’s why Galatians 5:13 is so important. Paul writes, “You were called to freedom.” And that very first line pushes against our assumptions. Freedom, according to the Bible, is not something we naturally have. Nor is it something we fight for. It’s something we’re called to—by God.

This brings us to our One Another series. If you’ve been with us since January, you’ll remember that we’ve been working through the “one another” commands of the New Testament—23 in total, though some are repeated. We began with “love one another,” which is repeated more than any other. It’s foundational, the “one command to rule them all.” And it directly connects to today’s command in Galatians 5:13: “through love, serve one another.” Paul goes on in verse 14 to say, “For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” But that’s not the only “one another” command in this passage. In verse 15, Paul gives a warning: “But if you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another.”

So what does it mean to be called to freedom? First, it means that freedom doesn’t equal doing whatever we want. Even our most celebrated freedoms—like freedom of speech—have limits. Just try yelling “bomb” on a plane and see how far that freedom goes. Freedom always comes with boundaries. And in Scripture, being “called” to freedom emphasizes that it comes from God. Galatians 1:15–16 tells us that God, by his grace, set Paul apart and called him. In 1 Corinthians 1:24, the message of Christ crucified is foolish to the world, but to those who are called, it is the power and wisdom of God. True freedom is a gift we receive when we are called by God and come to know Christ.

This is why Jesus says in John 8:36, “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” And Romans 8:1–2 says that we are free from the law of sin and death. But that doesn’t mean we’re free to sin. In fact, Romans 6:16 warns that if we present ourselves to sin, we become slaves to it. Freedom in Christ isn’t the freedom to do whatever we want—it’s the freedom to obey God. It’s the freedom to live in love and righteousness. That’s why Paul says, “Don’t use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh.”

Now here’s the warning. Even though we are free from the penalty and power of sin, we still live in a world where the presence of sin is real. That’s why Paul warns us not to bite and devour one another. Because when we do, we’re not acting in freedom—we’re acting like the enemy. 1 Peter 5:8 describes the devil as a roaring lion seeking someone to devour. And when we gossip, manipulate, and turn on each other, we’re reflecting his work—not God’s. That’s why Paul tells us again: use your freedom to serve one another in love.

Being Godly Neighbours

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 10:25-37. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on February 23, 2025.

The parable of the Good Samaritan is often used to teach us about loving our neighbor—showing kindness, grace, and mercy. And sure, that lesson is definitely in there. But that’s not really the main point Jesus was making. The real message becomes clear when we look at the context. That’s why we can’t just read a few verses on their own. We need to see what’s happening around them to fully understand God’s word.

So, why did Jesus tell this parable in the first place? Let’s rewind a bit and check out Luke 10:25–27. A lawyer stands up and asks Jesus, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” This wasn’t just a casual question. Luke tells us the lawyer was testing Jesus. That makes a big difference. And by “lawyer,” we’re not talking about courtroom drama and legal battles. In that time, a lawyer was someone who was an expert in Jewish law—religious, civil, ceremonial—all of it.

These lawyers were like scholars, pastors, and politicians all rolled into one. They knew the law inside and out. And they often belonged to groups like the Pharisees or Sadducees, which were kind of like political parties with different interpretations of the law. Pharisees focused on purity and religious practices like synagogue gatherings and personal devotion, while the Sadducees were more temple-focused and politically connected, even working with the Romans.

Here’s something important to notice. The lawyer asks Jesus about eternal life—something the Sadducees didn’t even believe in. So we can reasonably assume this guy was a Pharisee. And Pharisees were very concerned with salvation. They studied the scriptures because they believed that’s where eternal life was found. But as Jesus pointed out in John 5:39–40, they missed the whole point of scripture—it’s meant to lead us to Him.

So here’s this Pharisee testing Jesus, probably trying to see how much He really knows. But Jesus, in typical Jesus fashion, flips the question back on him. “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” And the lawyer answers with Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18: love God with everything you’ve got, and love your neighbor as yourself.

That was actually a pretty common understanding of the law back then. Jesus Himself used the same two verses when asked what the greatest commandment was. And it makes sense—if you love God and love your neighbor, everything else falls into place. Jesus even says in Matthew 22:40, “On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.” So when the lawyer gives that answer, Jesus says, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.”

But this is where things start to unravel. Because really, who can love God perfectly? R.C. Sproul put it this way—no one has kept that commandment for five minutes, let alone a lifetime. If you truly loved God with your entire heart, soul, strength, and mind, you wouldn’t sin. But as Romans 3:23 says, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

So the lawyer is probably realizing something in that moment. He might have looked righteous on the outside, like many Pharisees did, but inside, he knew he couldn’t live up to this standard. The Pharisees were known for adding oral traditions to the law, creating fences to keep people from getting too close to sinning. But these fences sometimes ended up contradicting the law itself. They created a fake appearance of righteousness without the substance.

Jesus called them out for that in Matthew 23:27–28, saying they were like whitewashed tombs—beautiful on the outside, but full of death inside. Maybe this lawyer saw himself in that. Maybe Jesus’ response exposed something in him. And instead of admitting it, he tries to justify himself. Luke 10:29 says, “But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’”

He’s trying to narrow the commandment. He wants Jesus to give him a manageable list of people he’s responsible for loving. But Jesus wasn’t going to let him off that easy. Instead, He tells the story of the Good Samaritan.

A man is beaten and left for dead. A priest walks by. A Levite walks by. These are the guys who should have helped. They were the religious leaders, the people with authority and responsibility. But they pass by on the other side. And then comes the twist—Jesus introduces a Samaritan.

To Jesus’ audience, this would have been shocking. Samaritans were despised. They were seen as unclean, racially mixed traitors who had their own distorted version of Judaism. The animosity between Jews and Samaritans ran deep, going all the way back to the Assyrian exile. For centuries, they avoided each other. So the idea that a Samaritan would be the hero of the story would’ve been unthinkable.

But that’s exactly what Jesus does. The Samaritan sees the beaten man and is moved with compassion. He goes out of his way to care for him—binding his wounds, taking him to an inn, and covering all the expenses. That’s not just kindness. That’s sacrificial love. That’s grace and mercy in action.

And with this story, Jesus redefines what it means to be a neighbor. The question isn’t “Who is my neighbor?” The better question is “Am I being a neighbor?” The answer Jesus gave exposed the lawyer’s attempt to limit God’s command. And it leaves us with the same challenge—if the one you hate the most is the one God calls you to love, what are you going to do?