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.

Be Kind to One Another

Summary of my sermon, based on Ephesians 4:29-32. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on February 2, 2025.

If you grew up Filipino in the 2000s or early 2010s, chances are you knew the name Manny Pacquiao. It didn’t matter if you lived in Manila or migrated halfway across the globe—if Pacquiao had a fight on, you were likely crowded around a TV with friends or family, proudly watching him take title after title. He wasn’t just a boxer; he was a symbol of pride. And in all those conversations about him, one phrase came up over and over again: “pound-for-pound, one of the best boxers of all time.” That phrase stuck with me—not just for boxing, but because it reminds me of something else that packs an unexpected punch: the book of Ephesians.

See, the phrase “pound-for-pound” exists because comparing fighters of different sizes directly doesn’t make sense. A featherweight like Pacquiao can’t be expected to go toe-to-toe with a heavyweight and win based purely on strength. So pound-for-pound is a way to measure skill, heart, and impact, regardless of physical size. And that’s exactly what makes Ephesians so remarkable. It’s short—only six chapters, about 3,000 words, maybe the length of a college essay—but the theological depth it contains makes it one of the most powerful books in the Bible, pound-for-pound. Many scholars agree it belongs right up there with Psalms, Romans, and the Gospel of John in terms of influence.

Paul’s structure in Ephesians is also simple and effective. In chapters 1–3, he lays out the Gospel—what God has done. In chapters 4–6, he turns to how we should respond—how we live in light of that truth. Ephesians 4:1 sets the tone: “Walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called.” This calling should transform everything about us. We don’t live for God to earn salvation—we live for God because we have salvation.

Jesus made this clear through the parable of the unforgiving servant in Matthew 18. The story begins with a man who owes a king an unthinkable amount of money—ten thousand talents. If we estimate one talent as two years’ wages, we’re talking about a debt of 700 million dollars. It’s a debt that can never be paid, and yet the king forgives him entirely. But then, that same servant turns around and refuses to forgive someone who owes him about three months’ wages. It’s shocking. Jesus’ point is clear: if we’ve been forgiven an impossible debt by God, how can we not show that same grace to others?

That’s what Ephesians calls us to: to walk like people who know what it means to be forgiven. Ephesians 2:8–10 says it plainly: “For by grace you have been saved through faith… not a result of works… For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.” We don’t do good to be saved—we do good because we are saved. And that leads us to Ephesians 4:32, where Paul gets very practical: “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”

But Paul doesn’t just give this one command. He sets it up through a contrast that begins back in verse 17. He describes what it looks like to live apart from God: futility, darkness, alienation, ignorance, and a hardened heart. It’s not that non-believers can’t do anything good—common grace exists. But no one can live up to the standard of a holy God apart from Christ. The general direction of life apart from God leads to self-centeredness, sensuality, and impurity. We’ve seen this play out in history—under regimes that rejected God, like Mao’s China, Stalin’s USSR, and Nazi Germany, countless lives were destroyed.

But Paul says, “That is not the way you learned Christ!” (Ephesians 4:20). We’ve been called to something better. We’ve been given a new self, created to reflect God’s righteousness and holiness (Ephesians 4:24). So when Paul says, “Be kind,” he’s not just giving good advice—he’s telling us to live out the new identity we’ve been given in Christ.

And then Paul drills down even more. He tells us to watch how we speak: “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up… that it may give grace to those who hear” (Ephesians 4:29). Corrupting talk isn’t just profanity—it’s speech that spoils, that tears down, that spreads negativity like mold in a fridge after a power outage. Instead, our words should build up, heal, and offer grace.

He continues in verse 31: “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.” Yes, anger will come, and even Paul admits in verse 26 that it’s possible to be angry and not sin. But bitterness, rage, slander, and malice—those aren’t fitting for someone who has been forgiven so much.

In the end, Paul draws a stark contrast. On one side is bitterness, wrath, and harmful words. On the other side is kindness, forgiveness, and grace. And he makes it simple for us: Walk in a manner worthy of your calling. Be kind. Forgive. Speak life. Not to earn God’s love, but because you already have it.

I Will Follow

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 9:51-62. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on November 17, 2024.

If you were a Christian in the 90s, you probably remember the WWJD bracelets—short for “What Would Jesus Do?” This phrase has deep roots in Christian history, tracing back to Charles Spurgeon in 1891. However, it became mainstream in 1896 when Charles Sheldon used it as a tagline in his novel “In His Steps.” His idea was to look to Jesus as a moral example in daily life, which helped birth the Social Gospel movement—an effort to apply Christian ethics to social issues.

This is a good thing. James 1:27 tells us, “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” Likewise, 1 Peter 2:21 states, “For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps.” However, the WWJD movement also had its flaws, primarily its commercialization and oversimplification of discipleship.

Following Jesus is not just about wearing a bracelet or making a moral decision in a single moment—it is a lifelong commitment that requires sacrifice. Luke 9:57-62 presents three responses to discipleship that highlight its demands.

First, Jesus tells a man who eagerly volunteers to follow Him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:58). This reveals that following Jesus may require giving up security and comfort. Many missionaries, like Robert and Sheila Cousins, have left everything to serve Christ. Even Christian leaders such as John Piper and Tim Keller could have pursued more wealth and success elsewhere but chose humble service instead.

Next, Jesus responds to another man who wants to delay discipleship until after burying his father: “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:60). This shocking statement underscores that following Jesus must take the utmost priority. Matthew 6:33 reminds us, “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”

Finally, Jesus warns against looking back when called to follow Him: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62). Discipleship requires focus. Hebrews 12:1-2 exhorts us to “run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.”

Ultimately, we cannot do this on our own. Jesus set His face toward Jerusalem, resolved to go to the cross for our salvation (Luke 9:51). When the Samaritans rejected Him, James and John wanted vengeance, but Jesus rebuked them, teaching mercy. He was on a mission to save both Jews and Samaritans, showing us that His path leads to the cross and the mercy of God. 1 Peter 1:3 reminds us that we have “a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”

So, what sacrifices do you need to make to follow Christ more fully? How can you rearrange your life to better reflect His kingdom?

Trembling at God’s Word

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 8:26-39. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on September 1, 2024.

Did you know the Exorcist franchise now includes seven movies and a TV series? The original 1973 film, infamous for its terrifying portrayal of demonic possession, reportedly caused some moviegoers to faint or feel nauseated. While I’ve never seen the original, I recall a night in my early 20s when I watched Exorcist: The Beginning with friends. We didn’t plan to see it, but after an evening of all-you-can-eat sushi, we wandered into the theater. The film had been out for a while, so the theater was nearly empty, just us and a scattering of seats. Initially, we found this amusing and decided to spread out. But by the end, every one of us had huddled together, unnerved by what we’d seen. Even as Christians who believed in the existence of demonic powers, we were shaken, realizing the gravity of what Scripture teaches about the spiritual realm.

C.S. Lewis warned of two errors concerning the demonic: disbelieving in their existence or becoming excessively fascinated. Most of us fall closer to disbelief, brushing off the concept as myth or exaggeration. But the Bible doesn’t leave room for such dismissal. In Job, we see Satan walking “to and fro on the earth” (Job 1:7, ESV). In Ephesians, Paul reminds believers to be strong in the Lord and to “put on the whole armor of God…against the spiritual forces of evil” (Ephesians 6:11–12, ESV). These passages affirm that the spiritual battle is real, and we are not wrestling against mere flesh and blood. But while we must not dismiss the existence of the demonic, neither should we obsess over it. Balance is key.

Luke 8 gives us a vivid example of demonic possession. A man possessed by many demons lived among the tombs, naked and out of control. His torment was evident; the demons dehumanized and marginalized him, making him repulsive and frightening to others. When Jesus arrived, this man’s transformation demonstrated the power of Christ. The demons recognized Jesus as “Son of the Most High God” (Luke 8:28, ESV) and obeyed His command to leave the man, entering a herd of pigs that subsequently drowned. This account highlights two truths: the destructive power of the demonic and the supreme authority of Christ.

Some may try to explain this possession as a psychiatric condition. While mental health is a genuine concern, Scripture consistently portrays cases like this as spiritual battles. Hollywood’s exaggerated depictions can distort our understanding, but real spiritual warfare often manifests more subtly. The devil’s aim is to deceive and lead us into sin. As 1 Peter 5:8 warns, “Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (ESV). Therefore, we must stay vigilant and rely on God’s strength.

Ultimately, Jesus’ authority over all things, including the demonic, offers hope. When the man was freed, his response was to proclaim how much God had done for him. This should be our response too. By submitting to God and resisting the devil, we draw near to Christ, who reigns in power and righteousness (James 4:7–8; Psalm 96:9–10). Let this truth ground us in faith, knowing that Jesus is Lord over all.

Sacrificial Love

Summary of my sermon, based on Luke 6:27-36. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on April 7, 2024.

One of my favorite activities during my time in Japan was walking. There were two main reasons for this. The first was a beautiful pond near my apartment called Sayama-Ike. The path around the pond was 2,850 meters long, and a full circuit along with the walk from my apartment to the pond and back covered almost exactly 4 km. The picture in my mind from April 2018, when the cherry blossoms were just starting to bloom, remains vivid to this day.

The second reason I loved walking in Japan was because I arrived there just a year after Pokémon Go had taken the world by storm. Almost as soon as I settled in, I got myself a pair of sweat-resistant Bluetooth earphones, and walking quickly became a daily ritual. I’d put on an audiobook, fire up Pokémon Go, and set off around Sayama-Ike. On weekends, especially when there were in-game events, I’d often go around the pond two or three times in an afternoon. Over the two years I lived in Japan, I ended up walking just over 2,500 km.

But this walking wasn’t just for leisure. In November 2017, I visited the island of Kyushu and took an overnight ferry to a hot spring town called Beppu. When I arrived, I noticed a number of exhausted participants trudging along the streets. It turned out they were completing the Yukuhashi ~ Beppu 100 km walk, and seeing them made me want to take on the challenge myself. I never got around to doing it, though. Despite all the walking I did in Japan, I never attempted that 100 km walk because, quite frankly, it seemed too hard. Walking 100 km in a single go, at an average speed of 5 km/h, would take 20 hours straight, and that’s assuming you maintain a steady pace. For most people, it’s a challenge that feels nearly impossible.

This story ties into today’s scripture, which many consider the “100 km walk” of the Bible—a challenge that seems insurmountable. We’re looking at a passage where Jesus commands something incredibly difficult: to love our enemies, to bless those who curse us, and to pray for those who abuse us. In Luke 6:27-28, Jesus says, “But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” (ESV). These words are not easy to digest. Loving God and loving our neighbors make sense, but loving our enemies? Allowing ourselves to be mistreated? This is a command that seems beyond our capacity to obey.

Yet, this is exactly what Jesus taught. From the last sermon in our series on the Beatitudes, we learned that God’s kingdom is anything but expected. It’s a kingdom where the poor, the hungry, the weeping, the hated, and the excluded are blessed. The Beatitudes serve as both an invitation to and preparation for the most difficult commands Jesus gives us.

So, what does Jesus mean when he commands us to love our enemies? It’s tempting to think He’s exaggerating for effect—a literary hyperbole. After all, most of us don’t have enemies in the dramatic sense of the word. But even if we don’t have people who actively hate us, we all encounter those who make life difficult, those who annoy us, or those who might not like us for reasons we don’t understand. Jesus’ command to love our enemies is not mere hyperbole; it’s a call to extend love and grace even in challenging circumstances.

Jesus goes on to provide concrete examples in Luke 6:29-31: “To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic either. Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them” (ESV).

These examples may seem extreme, but the principles behind them are what matter most. The first principle is grace. We should be gracious when insulted or rejected, just as early Christians were often met with violence but continued to minister despite the rejection. The second principle is vulnerability; we should not seek revenge but remain open to those who wrong us, especially in the context of religious persecution.

The third principle is generosity. Jesus calls us to meet the needs of others, going beyond mere acts of charity to embody a lifestyle of giving. Finally, the fourth principle is the Golden Rule: “As you wish that others would do to you, do so to them” (Luke 6:31, ESV). This rule is not just about refraining from harm but actively doing good to everyone, including those who oppose us.

Jesus justifies this difficult command by pointing out that loving those who love us, doing good to those who do good to us, and lending expecting repayment are things even sinners do. But His disciples are called to a higher standard, one that reflects the love and mercy of God Himself. In Luke 6:35-36, Jesus says, “But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful” (ESV).

The ability to love in this way comes from a renewed perspective—one that looks beyond earthly rewards to the greater reward in heaven. As Colossians 3:1-2 instructs, “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (ESV).

In conclusion, Jesus’ command to love our enemies is a daunting challenge, akin to a spiritual 100 km walk. But with a heavenly perspective, understanding that we are called to reflect God’s mercy and love, we can take on this challenge with the assurance that our efforts are not in vain.