Hellish Footholds and Heavenly Families

It would be the biggest amphibious assault the world had ever seen. The mission was codenamed Operation Neptune. On June 6, 1944, 160,000 Allied troops were onboard amphibious transports – en route to the German-occupied shores of Normandy, France.

Their task would not be an easy one. Their enemy was well-trained, well-equipped, and battle-hardened. And he would fight savagely.

During the six months that lead up to D-Day, the German forces dug in deep along Normandy’s beaches. They knew an amphibious invasion was imminent. They knew Normandy’s coast was a likely location for an invasion.

And they knew – if Allied forces took the beach, it would be their foot in the door to France – and the first step towards driving the German armies out.

So, they scattered mines throughout the shallow waters. They put up obstacles to prevent boats from landing. And should any boat successfully land, the Germans had pillboxes and mortar positions strategically overlooking the beach.

The Germans were not about to give the Allies a foothold into France, because a beachhead there could be foundational for the Allies to win back the entire Western Front.

No one wants to give their enemy a foothold – including Christians. After all, our struggle is ultimately not against physical adversaries of flesh and blood; the apostle Paul tells this Ephesian church that our struggle is ultimately against metaphysical adversaries – against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms (Ephesians 6:12).

You and I might not realize it, but we’re waging war against hell itself.

And where there’s division within this church, there Satan would plan an invasion.

Where there’s bitterness, he hopes to build a beachhead.

Wherever factions are fracturing this family, there Satan fortifies a foothold.

But that’s not all Paul is communicating in these verses. For a congregation failing to speak biblical truth in Christian love to one another, Paul reminds this fracturing family where their unity – true unity – is found. And that unchanging source of that unity changes the way we speak to one another. We speak truth in love for the sake of building one another up and bringing peace.

Diagnosing Disunity and Division Within the Local Church

In verses 17-32, Paul is capitalizing on the points he made in the previous section. He reiterates the beauty of the diversity within the body of Christ – to see ourselves as Christians not just as unique, individual parts, but parts of a grander body – a body grounded and united in Christ.

But Paul doesn’t want us to only see the sum of all the parts, either. We don’t look at the members of the body as means to an end but as ends themselves. After all, building up the body of believers intimately entails building individual members up according to their individual needs – that what we speak is of spiritual benefit to those who listen.

How can I love the body but not love the individual members of the body?

How can I love the body but then steal from its members? Or brawl with them? Or slander them?

How can the body grow and build itself up in love when our language towards each other is characterized by grudges, bitterness, rage and anger?

If we, as baptized children of God, don’t care about breathing biblical truth – let alone speaking that truth in love – then we’ve lost sight of the greater body into which we’ve been graciously grafted: we grieve God the Holy Spirit.

Don’t believe me?

Well, what if I, as a pastor, came into our church on Sunday and announced to you that we’d be permanently removing confession and absolution from every worship service going forward? You know, the part of the service where the gospel is explicitly broadcast to the entire congregation - right out of the gate? How would you react if we stopped doing that? Would you be upset?

I would be. I know, there’s freedom we have as Christians when it comes to how we craft our worship services – but there’s something incredibly sobering and sweet by being reminded – at the very beginning of worship – not only of our desperate need of God’s grace as sinners, but how God’s grace beautifully took action and saved us. Why wouldn’t we want to be assured that it is by God’s undeserved love we’ve been saved through faith? That because of Jesus, his life and death, our sins have been forever forgiven, and we have eternal peace with God? Who wouldn’t want to start worship that way?

So yeah, I’d be upset too if my pastor permanently removed confession and absolution from our liturgy.

But why, then, aren’t we equally upset when we personally remove confession and absolution from the liturgy of our everyday lives?

Why don’t we seek reconciliation with fellow Christians who’ve hurt us?

Why do we relegate the giving and receiving of the forgiveness that Christ has won to only one hour of one day of the week?

Why do we hang on to hatred – year after year – when we, in Christ, have every reason to let it go?

Why do we justify walking on eggshells around each other when Christ has already taken all our trash to Calvary?

Why do we continue to exact payment from those who’ve sinned against us when Jesus has already paid the debt of our sins in full?

How can we claim to be all about the gospel and then deny the gospel an opportunity to unfold between you and those who’ve wronged you?

If it’s the Holy Spirit’s work to build up the body, then who do you think is at work when the body is being torn down? If this is what we see, it’s likely we’ve given the devil a foothold. Literally, we’ve given the devil a place – a place to set up shop – a place for him to get comfortable – a place of opportunity for him to derail the church, divide its members, and drag us into unity with him instead.

Can you see now why Paul is concerned? Footholds falling into enemy hands isn’t good.

Germany fought tooth and nail to keep that foothold in France from falling into Allied hands, but after 11 long hours of fighting, the allies captured the beach – though not without serious casualties. Those German pillboxes on Normandy beach were equipped with MG42s – heavy machine guns that could fire 20 bullets a second; that means as soon as those amphibious transports dropped their ramps, they could wipe out all 35 occupants in less than 5 seconds.

But what if the Germans didn’t have a united front?

What if civil war suddenly broke out in their ranks and they turned those MG42s on each other instead? The Allies wouldn’t need to ‘storm’ the beaches of Normandy. The Germans would be so busy fighting each other, the real enemy could waltz right in.

Is it any different when we, with our words, turn our ‘guns’ on each other? Wherever God builds a church, there Satan would build a chapel. The forces of Satan and our sinful nature are vying for a beachhead within our homes and within this house – and when we wage war against fellow Christians with words of bitterness, slander, rage, and hatred, we give our enemy a foothold and roll out the red carpet for hellish invasion.

Where the Local Church’s True Unity Is Found

But if that’s all you hear in Paul’s words, then we’ve lost sight of something greater than the greater body into which we’ve been graciously grafted. Paul doesn’t settle for simply reminding this diverse family of believers of the dangers of disunity. Paul’s ultimate goal is to remind this divided family of where their unity is found – the one who grafted us into the body of believers in the first place. That this diverse group of Christians all share a common faith and common baptismal identity is because we share a common Savior into whom we are baptized.

Where we would only give ourselves up for sin, Jesus would give himself up for us.

Where our misused words would have estranged us from God forever, Jesus would clothe himself with our sin, guilt, and shame, and be rejected by his Heavenly Father so we wouldn’t be.

Where our war-waging words only warranted death, Jesus would die so we wouldn’t.

You, in Christ, are forgiven!

The blood that Jesus shed on the cross is God’s red carpet rolled out for you. The Savior into whom you’ve been baptized is the one who cleansed you by the washing with water through the Word.

But your God hasn’t just cleansed you of sin at your baptism; he’s claimed you to be his own. Your baptism wasn’t the day you pledged undying fidelity to God; no, your baptism was the day God pledged undying fidelity to you. You, who have been baptized into Christ have been clothed with Christ. When the gospel was preached to you, or at the waters of baptism, God the Holy Spirit worked faith in your heart and made you a new creation. That was the day you “took off the old self and put on the new…” Your identity as a blood-bought, redeemed child of God has been sealed.

Satan is constantly looking for footholds, but the same Jesus who holds his Church in his hands holds you in his nail-pierced hands, too. Nothing can separate you from his love. You don’t have just a foothold in God’s heart; you, dear baptized child of God, occupy prime real-estate. But that isn’t terrain that you won. It’s entirely by God’s undeserved love for us that we’ve been saved, through faith in Jesus. He is the one who would wear our moth-eaten rags of sin and, in exchange, give us hisrobe ofrighteousness and perfection. He is the one who has conquered sin, death, and the devil – and rose again in victory for you.He is the source of our unity – not only with God, but also with each other as Christians.

So, let’s make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. Every hatchet has already been buried with Jesus. Just as Christ is our peace between us and God, ask yourselves, how can that same gospel reconciliation unfold between you and others?

By God’s grace, may our words be used by us to build each other up and bring peace.

The 'Pragmatism' of Patience

You’ve probably heard at one point or another that “Patience is a virtue.”

The Oxford Dictionary defines ‘patience’ as “the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.”It’s been said that “Patience is the best remedy for every trouble…Patience is bitter, but the fruit is sweet…so, work hard, and be patient.” It’s a resilient determination. It’s a resolute focus on the future. Soren Kierkegaard went as far as to say that, because one cannot reap immediately where one has sown, “Patience is necessary.”

In other words, good things come to those who wait, and patience is how you win the waiting game.

All those definitions of ‘patience’ have one thing in common: they define ‘patience’ as something you exercise for your own sake.

You need patience when you’re slowly working your way up the corporate ladder.

You need patience when you’re inching your way through rush hour traffic.

You need patience if you’re looking to invest money.

You need patience if you’re renovating a house or rebuilding a car. You need patience if you’re working with difficult people.

You might even need patience to listen to your pastor’s sermon.

Even within relationships with other people, we widely practice patience for our our own personal pragmatism; we understand patience to be something we practice purely for our own long term benefit.

But then we arrive at the pages of God’s Word – and the definition that Scripture gives of ‘patience’ isn’t as one-dimensional as the definition we typically hear. The Bible doesn’t simply speak of patience as a moral virtue; no, true patience is a fruit of the Holy Spirit – something that is both sourced and strengthened by God himself. True patience is something God must generate and cultivate within us by his Word. And that God-cultivated patience isn’t superlatively exercised for self-seeking interests or for the sake of bettering one’s bottom line. True patience isn’t ultimately practiced for your benefit; it’s a gift that is given to others for their sake.

After all, just as love isn’t self-seeking or self-serving, “Love is patient” (1 Corinthians 13:4).

Why Were They Out to Get Jesus?

The patience of love is laid beautifully before us in the story Jesus shares in Matthew 21. It was the Tuesday of Holy Week – just a few days before Jesus would be arrested and put to death. And contrary from what we’d expect, on that Tuesday, we find Jesus spending time dialoguing with the very people plotting his demise.

In response to the Pharisees and Jewish Elders challenging Jesus’ authority, Jesus responds to them with three parables – each dealing with the reality of Jesus’ divine authority as the Son of God, and the consequences should anyone reject him.

Jesus kicks off this second parable with an allusion to Isaiah 5, where God says through Isaiah, “I will sing for the one I love, a song about his vineyard: My loved one had a vineyard on a fertile hillside. 2 He dug it up and cleared it of stones and planted it with the choicest vines. He built a watchtower in it and cut out a winepress as well.” So, when Jesus’ paints the picture of a landowner “who planted a vineyard. He put a wall around it, dug a winepress in it and built a watchtower,” these religious leaders caught the reference.

They knew, by that connection, that the vineyard in Jesus’ story represented the people of Israel. They knew the master of this beloved vineyard was God. They knew the servants the master sends to collect his fruit at harvest time were God’s prophets. And by the end of the parable, these leaders knew exactly who they were in this story. They were the wicked tenants.

By the end of this parable, Jesus would tell them “the kingdom of God will be taken away from [them] and given to others who will produce its fruit.” The tax collectors, prostitutes, and even Gentiles who trust in Jesus as their Savior from sin and death - they will enter into a right relationship with God ahead of these high priests, elders, and ‘experts’ of the law – and these religious leaders, by virtue of their rejection and unbelief, would not.

Can you see how this parable got under their skin?

This parable gives us a window into the hearts of these religious leaders. We can see their empty, self-righteous religiosity for what it’s worth. We can hear their unbelieving hearts brimming with hate and burning to bring Jesus down. We can almost hear their blood boil and curdle as Jesus calls them the tenants in the story – but by the end of the parable, they would paraphrase themselves: “Come, let’s kill the son and take his inheritance.” By the end of the week, they would live up to how they’re portrayed in this story. They would throw the Son out of Jerusalem and nail him to a tree.

Why Be Patient With Them?

There’s a part of us that wants to intervene in this episode, isn’t there? Were we witnessing this encounter firsthand, we’d try to counsel Jesus like we would our best friend who is seemingly stuck in a toxic, abusive, one-sided relationship. We’d counsel Jesus to cut ties and bail and take his love somewhere else where it won’t go unrequited. We’d question the sensibility of a God who patiently and persistently pursues those with a track record of persecuting his prophets. We’d try and talk Jesus out of engaging with people who are clearly hell-bent to bring him down.

“Jesus, what are you doing? Why are you investing in them? Why are you putting yourself in harm’s way? Don’t you know they’re out to get you? Why waste minutes of your last earthly moments on your enemies? What advantage is there in recklessly reaching out to the likes of these religious leaders when they’re not going to listen? They’re just going to reject you anyway! They’re hell-bent on murdering you! Wouldn’t your time be better invested in someone else? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial or advantageous for you to invest in someone else? Like your disciples? People who have been faithfully following you for years? People who actually listen to what you say and obey it? People who not only listen to your word (and so deceive themselves) but do what it says? What benefit is it to you to love these self-righteous, Word-scorning, murderous hypocrites when you could be investing that time and attention in someone like me?”

Did you catch what we’re really asking of God here? We’re asking God to operate purely on a pragmatic model of patience – where he exclusively invests in those who benefit him – people with undivided hearts who love the LORD and listen to him only.

But is that the kind of patience we’re really want God to show us?

In Matthew 5, Jesus exhorts Christians to employ their words with integrity, that our ‘yes’ be ‘yes’ and our ‘no’ be ‘no’; and yet, we bend the truth all the time for our own benefit; the same tongue that gives praise to God spews lies, gossip, and slander.

Jesus also says in Matthew 5, “Anyone who looks at [someone who is not your spouse] lustfully has already committed adultery with [them] in [their] heart.” Does our search history suggest we take these words seriously? Passages like these reveal that sexual activity outside of the God’s good paradigm of marriage is sin, but is there a part of us that thinks, “God doesn’t really expect people to refrain from sex until marriage, does he?”

Jesus says that hatred is tantamount to murder in the eyes of God, and yet, we harbor hatred all the time.

Or how about in Psalm 146:3, which says, “Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings who cannot save.” And yet, every fourth November, how quickly we turn sinful mortals into religiousized, Messianic figures, and it’s on their words – not God’s -that we meditate day and night.

You see, there’s a pharisee that exists in our hearts, too – a pharisee that would condemn these religious leaders for scorning the very word of God, and we’d exonerate ourselves when we do the exact same thing.

Suddenly, it doesn’t sound so ‘beneficial’ for us were God to be patient on the basis of pragmatism. It’s asking God to substitute his kingdom of grace for a kingdom of merit.

I can, like the Pharisees, appeal to bloodlines or family trees. I can appeal to my social standing – my societal privilege – or lack of it. I can, like the Pharisees, appeal to my ethnic background. I can appeal to how long I’ve been a Christian, how well I know my Bible, or how much I’ve placed in the offering plate. I can appeal to how good a person I think I am. But if entry into God’s kingdom was contingent on who I am or what I’ve done, I would never enter it. Because we’re sinners. Our guilt, shame, regret, our major and minor mistakes before God, our failure to give God all that he is due, these sins would have barred us from entering God’s heavenly vineyard – and outside the vineyard, there is only death. Notice how it isn’t the servants who ultimately stand empty-handed before the master: it’s the tenants. And outside of faith in Christ – who he is, and what he has done – we would stand empty-handed before God, too. We’d be wretches deserving of only a wretched end, estranged from God and his goodness forever.

So, why would God “recklessly” invest so much time and attention in his enemies? Why would God be patient with the likes of them?

For the same reason he is patient with you.

Why do you invest so much in those who scorn your love? Because you still love them – and you love them in spite of them. Think of all that you’ve patiently endured from people because you love them!

How much greater the love your God has for you!

Why God’s Patient With Us

Your Heavenly Father is portrayed in this parable as one who is persistently pursuing the lost – including those who would hatefully reject him, calling out to them again, and again, and again through His Word – reaching out to the lost sheep of Israel until he could rightly say “What more could have been done for my vineyard than I have done for it?” Your God is not just persistent: he’s patient.

With you.

With me.

And yes, even with those who reject him.

God doesn’t delight in the death of the wicked. God doesn’t want anyone – absolutely anyone to be estranged from him forever, but that all who are lost hear his gospel call, believe and turn to him and live, as he truly wants all people to be saved. God doesn’t compromise the serious urgency of his message, but nor does he compromise his patience as he, through his Means of Grace, pursues people in love.

But your God is seen elsewhere in this parable. If God the Father is the “recklessly” patient landowner, then who is the landowner’s “reckless” son? The son is the Son: Jesus, God the Son. Your God would love you so much he would willingly enter this broken, messed up world intentionally to die for broken, messed up people – even for those who would reject him, hate him, despise him, and murder him.

You see, that the Son of God would die was no accident. This was the LORD’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes! This was all part of your God’s gracious plan to save you – that Jesus, God the Son, would live a perfect life in your place and die on a cross outside the vineyard of Jerusalem for your sins. That same Jesus would burst forth from the grave on the third day – proving not only those who stood opposed to Christ had failed, but proof that Jesus had conquered sin, death, and hell itself. God the Holy Spirit sought you through the waters of baptism and clothed you with Christ’s righteousness. He sought you through His Word and created faith in your heart.

You have been washed clean by the blood of Jesus. You have been clothed with Christ’s perfect obedience. You were once not a people, but now, in Christ, you are the people of God. We, in Christ, are those recipients of the vineyard at the end of the parable! We, in Christ, are the heirs of God’s Kingdom. You, in Christ, have been made a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation – God’s special, precious inheritance! We are passively on the receiving end of God’s grace!

Of what benefit is it to God for him to be patient?

You.

You are the reason he is patient. More precisely, his faithful love for you is the reason he is patient. His unwillingness for anyone to perish, and his desire that all turn to him in repentance and faith.

God’s love may look impractical and reckless to us, but that’s because his love is both unfailing and unearned. Your God desired to call you his child. So, he endured hell for you. He, in love, sought you.

That’s how committed and dedicated he is to you.

He loves you with a patient love.

Not Enough? That's Enough.

It’s Friday afternoon. You’ve just cranked out a massive work week – working at a job that doesn’t give you enough time to do the things they don’t pay you enough money to do. You clock out and power through an hour’s worth of bumper-to-bumper traffic. You’re dead tired, and all you’re thinking about is the weekend.

But when you finally do get home, there’s more work waiting for you.

There are outstanding bills that need to be paid. There’s a leaky faucet that needs to be fixed. You need to call your doctor to schedule an appointment, and you need to have a talk with your kid who got in trouble at school.

So much for a relaxing weekend.

There never seems to be enough time. You rarely feel like you have enough money. And you simply don’t have enough energy.

You walk into your home, drop your stuff, and sink into your sofa – feeling like the weight of the world rests on your shoulders. And that’s when your phone rings. It’s your boss, calling to tell you that you need to come in and work tomorrow.

The needs never seem to stop – and there’s not enough of you to meet them.

“You Give Them Something to Eat”

Jesus’ disciples could relate. They needed to sit down and rest. They needed something to eat. These tired, hungry men had just returned from their mission trips – and they needed some R&R and one-on-one time with Jesus.

But that proved to be near impossible. Crowds of people flocked around Jesus and his disciples – so much so that the disciples couldn’t even get a quick bite to eat.

So, they hopped in a boat and set sail for the opposite shore of the Sea of Galilee in hopes of finding a secluded place to rest. But somehow, the crowd caught wind of where Jesus and the disciples were sailing. So, they ran along the Northern coast to catch up, spreading the word as they went.

Can you could imagine the look on the disciples’ faces when they finally arrived at the Northeastern shore, and what they saw were thousands of people – men, women, and children – anxiously trying to find them? The very people they had deliberately sailed away from in the first place?

I can’t imagine these tired, hungry disciples were feeling very compassionate towards this crowd of thousands.

But Jesus was.

This crowd had brought Jesus their sick they needed him to heal. They had brought Jesus their spiritual questions they needed him to answered. But there was something else they needed that they hadn’t brought: food. And it was already getting late. So, the disciples came to [Jesus] and said, “This is a remote place…Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.” Seemed like a sensible suggestion, doesn’t it? That they needed to leave and get something to eat?

But Jesus suggests otherwise.

“They do not need to go away,” which left the disciples thinking, “If these people stay here, then who is going to feed them?” So, Jesus says, “You.” “You give them something to eat.”

But this was a need they simply couldn’t meet.

The disciples simply weren’t packing enough money to cater for over 5,000 people. Philip, one of the twelve, estimated that not even 8 month’s wages would be enough to provide even a bite of food for every man, woman, and child in that crowd. There were thousands of them! So, they searched among the crowd for any and all food they could find – and of the thousands and thousands crowding around Jesus that day, all they could find was one boy’s packed lunch.

“We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish.” In other words, “We don’t have enough.”

Sure, Jesus had given the disciples divine power to perform miracles on their mission trips – and they had performed miracles, too; but the immensity of this need seemed insurmountably great. “Jesus, we’d feed these people if we could! But five loaves and two fish is not enough for us to work with!”

And that’s when Jesus says, “Bring them here to me.”

Can you imagine the look on the disciples’ faces when they see this boy’s lunch placed in Jesus’ hands? How could this measly meal even put a dent in feeding a famished crowd this size? Jesus couldn’t possibly work such a massive miracle from such a meager amount of food, could he? How is this enough?

“How Is This Enough?”

You ever ask God that question? How is this enough?

Maybe it’s when you’re grocery shopping on a shoestring budget, and you look at what little you’ve put in the cart compared to how many mouths you have to feed at home and you wonder, how is this enough?

Maybe it’s when your car is always in and out of the shop. Or when your windshield suddenly cracks, when your tire blows out, when the alternator goes bad, or that fender-bender you never saw coming.

Maybe it’s after a break in and you lose some of your material possessions and you not only need to replace those but you need to pay for the damages. Maybe it’s when a recession or inflation wrecks your finances. Maybe it’s when your company starts to dissolve, and your job security with it. Maybe it’s when you’re drowning in bills, your credit card is declined, or you’re on the brink of bankruptcy.

You weigh those surmounting expenses against what scare resources you have and wonder, how is this enough?

But all these needs don’t just cost money; they require time and energy from you, too.

These needs just never seem to stop – and there’s not enough of you to meet them.

And when our finances are strained, when we’re buried in debt, when we are tired, worn out, and just struggling to get by – when it feels like we’re living hand to mouth, when we don’t have the time, the energy, or the resources we need to meet our needs, we ask the same question the disciples asked:

“How is this enough?”

But is your “not enough” not enough for God?

You see, buried beneath all this worry is doubt. We doubt God will provide for our needs, or we doubt God even can provide for our needs. We project our inability to work with scarcity onto God – and conclude that not enough for us is not enough for him.

“If I can’t work miracles with very little, then neither can God.”

And so, we worry.

“How am I going to provide for my family? How am I going to make all these tuition payments? How am I going to pay these medical bills? How am I going to pull myself up out of debt? How am I going to possibly meet all my needs? I don’t have enough! I don’t have what I need!”

The irony is, even in times of plenty we’ll say the exact same thing. Take for example the richest man in modern history – entrepreneur and oil-refining tycoon, John D. Rockefeller – who, when asked, “How much money is enough money?” replied, “Just a little bit more.”

Now, to be fair, Rockefeller was quite a generous philanthropist; but quotes like these leave you asking “How could the wealthiest man in history even joke about not having enough? How could someone so rich still not have what he needs?”

Because - regardless of how much time, money, and energy you think you have - the same sinful nature exists in all of us. We all get hung up on what the word “enough” means. Because we confuse our wants for needs, and lesser needs for ultimate needs.

It was no different for the crowds of people around Jesus.

They were convinced what they needed most was a political, cultural Messiah – not a spiritual one. They wanted a bread king, not a spiritual king. We, like the people crowding around Jesus, not only confuse what we “need” with what we “want,” we so often forget the greatest need we all have – a need that threatened our eternal standing with God – a need that only God can meet.

There was a time when the needs of this world never existed. A time when people had so much more than enough. In fact, they had an entire earthly paradise as their home!

But they bought into the lie that such a paradise wasn’t enough, that they needed something more. And when Adam and Eve rejected God and his abundant goodness, this world plunged into sin - and from that moment on, humanity would know first hand what “not having enough” really was. Our world was left desperately in need - in need of a Savior from sin: our sins of coveting, our sins of discontentment, our sins of doubt and distrust, and our sins of worry. We needed redemption. We needed saving. We were sheep in need of a compassionate shepherd.

But our need for such a shepherd has been met in Jesus.

More Than Enough

[Jesus] directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. The all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.

The disciples were right: they couldn’t, by their own power, stretch a boy’s meager lunch into a meal for thousands. But for Jesus – the same God who made the heavens, the earth, and everything between – that boy’s lunch was more than enough!

That same LORD who broke bread to feed thousands until they were filled is the very Bread of Life who gives life to the world – and life to the full! Because what we needed more than full bellies was full forgiveness for all the wrongs against God we had done, and full reconciliation to God as family.

And in Christ, that need has been met! And how did God meet that need? Well, God became man for us. God would be born for us. Not to merely to feed thousands or fill our fridge. No, Jesus came to be perfect in our place, because we couldn’t. Jesus came to endure God’s holy justice in our place on a cross, so we wouldn’t.

Your God can and will provide for your earthly needs. But he’s given you something far greater than money, a great job, a nice house, and a full fridge.He gives hope those who are utterly hopeless. He gives rest for the weary, strength for the weak, and joy for the heart-broken. Your Shepherd has conquered sin, death and the devil for you! We are redeemed children of the one true King – heirs of eternal life in the glorious riches of heaven, where never again will we hunger, never again will we thirst.

Until that day, know this: your greatest needs have been met, because every good thing we need is found eternally in Christ.

What’s “not enough” in our hands is more than enough in the hands of Jesus. Your God works immeasurably more than our limited imaginations can conceive, with even less than this boy’s lunch. The God who stretched a boys lunch to feed thousands is the God who stretched his arms across a tree to rescue the entire world.

The God who attends to the temporary needs of the birds and flowers will certainly attend to your eternal needs. The eyes of all may look to him and he will give us today our daily bread.

So, we don’t need to worry. We have enough. We have enough for today. We’ll have enough for tomorrow. And we’ll have enough until our God takes us home. Because he’s a God who provides for his people’s greatest needs.

The Problem With Being "Spiritual, Not Religious"

“Religious ‘Nones’ are now the largest single group in the U.S.” That was the discovery of a recent study conducted by Pew Research.

In that study, 28% of the 3,300-plus participants checked ‘none’ to describe their current religious affiliation. That doesn’t mean that 93 million Americans identify as agnostic (undecided if there is a God) or atheist (an assertion that no God exists). Only 17% of that 93 million identify as atheist, while 20% identify as agnostic. The remaining 63% - about 58 million Americans – religiously identify as “nothing in particular”.

For varying reasons, this demographic no longer looks to religion for a relationship with God or revelation of some sort of higher power. They tend not to look to sacred texts for truth. Instead, they rely heavily on human reason and emotional intuition. For example, their understanding of what is evil or wrong largely boils down to whether they believe something hurts other people – physically, mentally, or spiritually. Similarly, they tend to define things as good and right if they believe it to be beneficial for human flourishing.

This demographic isn’t necessarily anti-religion, but this demographic is widely critical of religion; some believe religion has caused good, but equally has caused harm; others believe religion has caused way more harm than good.

They associate the word ‘religion’ with loveless legalism, abusive dogmatism, fear-driven rigidity, and systemic hypocrisy; however, in their minds, the word “spiritual” doesn’t carry the same kind of baggage. Their spirituality may consist of meditation, communing with nature, or sifting through the sayings of a variety of spiritual figures. Many still believe in some sort of God or higher power, but they don’t affiliate with any religion.

For them, the nomenclature that describes their beliefs best is “spiritual, but not religious.”

But this surge of non-affiliated spirituality is nothing new. This kind of ‘spirituality’ was just as prevalent during Jesus’ earthly ministry as it is today. People already then were tuning in to whatever their itching ears wanted to hear.

They were like reeds, ceaselessly swinging and swaying in whatever direction the spirit of the age was blowing.

But the ‘song’ that Jesus and John the Baptist were singing was a different tune entirely. The song that they were singing brings an end to all our scrolling, shuffling, and searching. The song they were singing gives answers to questions of our life’s meaning, purpose, and our relationship with God. The song they were singing wasn’t just good news: it was the good news of who Jesus is for us.

“Jesus, Are You the One? Or…”

Jesus’ identity is at the center of his discourse in Luke 7:18-35; that might surprise you, given how much time Jesus spends talking about this guy named John. But the ministry of John the Baptist and Jesus were tied together.

God had commissioned John to be the forerunner for the Son of God and Savior of the world. God describes the nature of John’s ministry through the prophet Malachi centuries prior, where God says, “I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.” Old Testament prophecy placed the work of John the Baptist in the immediate forefront of the saving work of the Messiah. John was the herald who ran ahead of the Messiah to ready hearts to receive this coming King.

And when Jesus hit the scene, John continued doing what he had been doing all along: directing eyes, hearts, and ears to Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. The shuffling could stop. The searching could cease. Jesus is the One for whom they were waiting: the eternal Son of God, the Savior. And John confidently proclaimed that.

But that was before John was thrown in prison. Luke’s account doesn’t mention that detail to us, but Matthew’s account does. And while John waits in that jail cell, it seems he started to worry.

Maybe he worried about the significance of his own ministry, as it seemed to have come to a dramatic and abrupt end. If Jesus was God’s Messiah, then what was John – one of God’s prophets – doing in prison? What’s more, from what John’s disciples were reporting about Jesus, it didn’t sound like Jesus was doing the things that John expected the Messiah would do.

If Jesus wasn’t God’s long-awaited Messiah, then John definitely wasn’t the Messiah’s opening act. Their ministries were different, but they were inseparably tied together. Whether it was Jesus’ ministry called into question or John’s, to doubt one threw suspicion on the other. And that inseparable connection wasn’t lost on John’s disciples, the crowd, or Jesus’ critics.

So, John gives voice to the million-dollar question that was on everyone’s mind: “[Jesus], are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” “Are you the answer to our hearts’ greatest questions? Are you the solution to our world’s greatest problems? Are you what all of us are ceaselessly searching for? Or should we keep searching?”

“…Should We Keep Searching?”

Those who are spiritual, not religious would tell you that you should.

Matthew Hedstrom is a professor of religion at the University of Virginia. In his class, “Spirituality in America”, he asserts that being “spiritual, but not religious” is about “seeking,” rather than “dwelling”. After all, with so many perspectives, can any one person really have all the answers about God?

There’s an Eastern parable that attempts to illustrate Hedstrom’s point. There are six blind men in a room with an elephant – and each try to describe what an elephant is. The first blind man feels the side of the elephant, and says, “How smooth! An elephant is like a wall!” The second grabs hold of the elephant’s trunk. “How round! An elephant must be like a snake!” The third takes hold of the elephant's tusk. “How sharp! An elephant must be like a spear!” The fourth, fifth, and sixth do the same – respectively concluding that the elephant must be something other than what it actually is.

The moral of the story is, no worldview has the authority to dismiss or discredit another, as no worldview has a comprehensive understanding of the truth.

But the parable only works if there is another character in the story – and that’s us, the unblind observer. The parable may call for humility from the religions of the world – but it arrogantly does the exact opposite by claiming to have superior knowledge. The parable can assert all it wants that no worldview has the authority to discredit the claims of another – but the parable can only say that if it is a higher authority than everyone else.

And that’s ultimately the problem with being “spiritual, but not religious”. It may claim to be a more humble, modest, open-minded alternative than other religions, but it haughtily elevates you as the ultimate authority.

Think about it. If being spiritual, but not religious is to treat all religions and spiritualities as options in a spiritual buffet, who is the authority that determines what you do or don’t put on your plate?

You see, being “spiritual, but not religious” isn’t really a rejection of religious authority; it’s simply replacing religious authority with you.

We see that in this story, don’t we? People rejected the message of the reclusive, desert-dwelling John the Baptist because he didn’t eat and drink with people. But when Jesus did dwell among the people and ate and drank with them, they still reject Jesus, even though he met the criterion that John had not!

Jesus completely met the criteria of the Messiah. He alludes to Isaiah 35:1-10, which describes the sin-reversing restoration that the Son of God would bring. “The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.” But no matter how many miracles Jesus did, his critics would shift the goal post and demand more.

You see, inside all of us is a sinful nature that wants a ‘spirituality’ where who you are and who God is, is entirely dictated by you. Our sinful nature wants to fabricate a ‘spirituality’ where we are the ultimate authority, and accountable to absolutely no one. And no matter what God would say – no matter what song God would sing – we can find a reason to tune out.

God says all have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God, and we’d think “the Christian doctrine of sin is way too harsh!” We hear that all have been justified freely by God’s grace through the redemptive work of Christ Jesus, and we’d think “The doctrine of grace is way too lenient!”

Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one has a relationship with God or entry into his heaven but through me. No one can see themselves for who they really are or God for who he is except through me,” – and we’d say, “That’s way too exclusive!” That is until thieves, prostitutes, and murderers who trusted in Jesus get into heaven – and then Christianity is way too inclusive!

We’re like the child who changes the rules of Monopoly when we’re losing. We’re like the child who kicks and screams in the backseat until dad changes the station. We’re like children playing in the marketplace, but when we hear a dirge, we don’t mourn; when we hear the flute, we don’t dance.

We’d rather incessantly scroll through an infinite playlist than hear the one song we need to hear.

Our God Speaks

But, for a world that would enslave itself to an endless quest of always “seeking” and never “dwelling” – our God would seek us so that we would dwell in him. God would take on our human flesh in order to seek and to save a world that was lost. While we were born spiritually dead and blind, our God doesn’t leave us groping around aimlessly trying to find him or figure out what kind of God he is. The last thing that we want is a God whose character and being are dictated and determined by our hearts.

Thankfully, our God isn’t the silent elephant in the room. Our God speaks.

Our God discloses himself to us through his Word. That Word would become flesh and make his dwelling among us. God would tangibly reveal himself through his Son. God, in Christ, would visibly unveil his very heart for our fallen world to see. A heart that desires all people to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth. A heart that longs to gather every human being together under his wings for refuge. A heart that loves us so much, he would open that heart to be pierced and crushed for us.

To fulfill all righteousness, Jesus was perfectly spiritual and religious for us – and he would take our sins of manmade religion and self-centered spirituality to the cross and die for us. And – because our God’s promises never fail – your God and Savior rose again to life – to assure you that his saving work is complete: you are forgiven, restored to God, renewed, redeemed, and heaven-bound.

Jesus hates loveless legalism, abusive dogmatism, fear-driven rigidity, and systemic hypocrisy, too (even more than you do, in fact). But privatizing your spirituality isn’t the solution to that problem. Who you are in Christ isn’t something you’ll discover if you dig deeper and deeper within yourself: you’re only going to find dirt.

The gospel is a reality that must come from the outside in. So, find a church that faithfully proclaims the Word of God. “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest,” Jesus says. Do you know what that means? That means your shuffling can stop. Your searching can cease. “Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.” Jesus says. Because in Christ, we not only see who our God of grace and mercy truly is, but we find who we truly are, too.

The 'Necessity' of Baptism

Can you have a BLT without the ‘T’?

I’m not a big fan of tomatoes. I’ll eat ketchup, salsa, tomato soup, and even tomato sauce, But sadly, I’m still too picky to leave giant slices of tomato on my burgers and sandwiches – even on a BLT, a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.

Asking for a BLT with no tomatoes is as silly as asking for a PB&J with no jelly.

You can’t have a banana split without bananas.

You can’t have strawberry short cake without strawberries.

You can’t have peach cobbler without peaches.

And you can’t have apple pie without ice cream.

Those are all essential, necessary ingredients.

What about baptism? Is that an essential, necessary ingredient within the ‘recipe’ of our salvation?

At first blush, it sounds non-negotiable in passages like Mark 16:16. “Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved…” Or, how about what Jesus said in John 3:5? “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit.”

So, is baptism like a banana in a banana split? Is baptism necessary for our salvation?

“You must be born again”

While the answer to that question lies within Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, it’s helpful to note that their conversation ultimately wasn’t about baptism per se.

Nicodemus didn’t tee off with questions about what baptism is, how baptism is to be administered, or to whom baptism has been given.

The crux of this conversation pertains to a far more foundational question.

His hang-ups aren’t about the nature of baptism, but the nature of people. What Nicodemus was failing to see wasn’t just how but why we must be born again.

There were things Nicodemus was seeing clearly: he could see the ministry of Jesus was gaining traction; he had seen many of the miracles Jesus had performed – those signs that powerfully demonstrated Jesus’ divinity; he could see that this Teacher was clearly from God! So, his words must be, too!

But despite everything Nicodemus could see, there was something fundamentally basic that he wasn’t seeing: our need to be born again.

So, one night, he brings his questions to Jesus. “Rabbi, we know you are a teacher from God, because there is no way you could perform all these signs unless you were from God.” Jesus replies, “Well, there is no way you can see or enter the kingdom of God unless you are born again.”

Born again?

“How can someone be born when they are old? Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!”

Jesus explains what he means in verse 5. “…No one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit.”

In other words, entry into God’s heavenly, spiritual kingdom requires heavenly, spiritual rebirth. That rebirth comes about of water and the Spirit.

Well, what does Jesus mean by that?

“…of water and the Spirit.”

In John 3:5, the phrase “of water and the Spirit” is grammatically presented as a unit concept: in other words, Jesus isn’t talking about two rebirths – as if one must first be born of water and then be born of Spirit. There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism – not two baptisms (Ephesians 4:5-6). This rebirth of water and the Spirit is describing one in the same thing: regeneration, the creation of faith.

The Apostle Peter reinforces this in his sermon in Acts 2. “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. This promise is for you and your children…” (Acts 2:38). Consider Paul’s words in Titus 3:5 – where, just as it is in Acts 2 and John 3:5, the waters of baptism and the regenerative working of the Holy Spirit are entwined together. Paul writes, [God] saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit… Or the Apostle Peter in 1 Peter 3:21, that baptism…now saves you also…”

Put another way, baptism is a means through which the Holy Spirit works faith in the hearts of people – a faith that lays claim of Christ and the gracious gifts he gives us through faith – that being the forgiveness of sins, newness of life, and eternal salvation. To put it simply, baptism saves.

The ‘Necessity’ of Baptism

So, if baptism saves, does that mean that baptism is absolutely necessary for salvation?

What about the thief on the cross?

You know, the man who hung on a cross next to Jesus, who said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom?” And Jesus says, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” What about him?

Well, what about the thief on the cross?

Couldn’t he have been baptized by John? Sure, he could have! But that’s as much an argument from silence as it is to say that he wasn’t baptized when he died.

And even if the thief on the cross wasn’t baptized, so what? He isn’t an exception to the ‘rule’. Think of all the believers in the Old Testament – before God even instituted baptism! Were they saved apart from baptism? Absolutely! They were children of the promise just as much as we are! It was through faith in Jesus the thief on the cross both saw and entered the kingdom of God – just as it is through faith in Jesus that the baptized see and enter the kingdom of God, too.

So, is baptism necessary for salvation?

No, it’s not.

Faith in Jesus is.

Whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life, John writes just a few verses later (John 3:16).

We could say baptism is necessary in the sense that God uses it as a means through which he creates or strengthens faith, and thereby conveys and relays the forgiveness of sins. And this should not surprise [us], because the same gospel that is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes (Romans 1:16) is the same gospel that gives the waters of baptism their power.

So, while baptism does save, it is not absolutely necessary for salvation; faith in Jesus is. The point Jesus is making to Nicodemus isn’t the necessity of baptism for salvation; Jesus is stressing the necessity of spiritual rebirth – and baptism is one of the means God uses to make that happen.

“How Can This Be?”

And that’s when we might echo Nicodemus: “How can this be?”

In baptism, God pours forth his unconditional, universal, objective love for the world – young and old alike. On top of all the real blessings baptism gives, baptism paints the picture of our purely passive role in salvation: we were washed, we were sanctified, we were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God (1 Corinthians 6:11).

An adult is no more capable of turning to God and repenting on their own that a little child is. We need to be born again – not of biological descent, nor of human decision (John 1:13) – but born of God.

The thing is, our sinful flesh would deny the fact that sin gives birth to sin and insist we must play an active role in our salvation. And while our secular world evidences a failure to see both how and why we must be born again, Christians can fail to see this, too.

In the wake of the Protestant Reformation, the Catholic Church, during the Council of Trent, not only decreed that “faith will not justify [one before God] unless [baptism] is also present…” but went as far as saying that “[baptism] is more necessary than faith” (Council of Trent, Session VII, Canon IV). That treats baptism like we were made for it – not the other way around. Baptism no longer gives the gospel but assaults the gospel; the sole-sufficiency of Christ is discarded. Baptism becomes a work that we – not God – must do – and grace ceases to be grace.

But that’s what happens when we want to cooperate and participate in our salvation. That’s what happens when we repudiate the idea of needing to be given something from God that we don’t naturally have, or we can never possibly earn. And when we cringe at the idea of us being God’s ‘project’ or ‘charity case’, we’re downplaying our inherent need to be born again.

Our need for the unilateral, one-sided love of God was downplayed at the time of Nicodemus, too. Many of his Jewish contemporaries believed that being family with God hinged on their devoutness – that their obedience to God’s laws made them family with God. Others found comfort in their Jewish human ancestry, citing Abraham – that devout man of Israel’s past – as their father, as if being Jewish ethnically qualified them to be family with God. And it’s no different today, is it?

Why do you see and enter the kingdom of God?

Is it because you’ve been a churchgoer your entire life?

Is it because you’ve given thousands of dollars to churches and charities?

Is it because your world thinks you’re a good wife, a good husband, a good friend, or simply a ‘good’ person?

We can insist all we want that it’s by virtue of us that we see and enter the kingdom of God – that we are somehow entitled to God’s love, or are inherently deserving of being members of his family. But Jesus’ words “born again” throws all that out the window. Being family with God doesn’t correspond to your bloodline or ancestry; it isn’t a result of the good things we try and do as if to earn God’s love.

“Flesh can only give birth to flesh.” Sin gives birth to sin.

The question baptism prompts us to ask isn’t “How can babies possibly repent?” but “How can anyone possibly repent?” We needed rebirth because we were born spiritually dead in sin. And if you think ordering a BLT without tomatoes is silly, how much sillier is it for a spiritually lifeless corpse to give itself life? How much sillier is it for us – whose righteous actions are still like filthy rags – to try and reconcile ourselves to God?

The Beauty of Our Baptism

But what we couldn’t do, Jesus did.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). 

Think about that: before the world did anything deserving of his love – God loved the world.

Before God’s love even took action, he loved us!

We had nothing to give to God, yet he gave us everything: he gave us the gift of himself, his one and only Son!

Because he loved us too much to watch his broken, fallen world stay that way for eternity. He loved you too much to let you be estranged from him by sin forever.

He knew we couldn’t fix it.

He knew we couldn’t save ourselves.

No hero but Jesus could bridge the gap between a broken world and a righteous God.

No hero but Jesus could live a blameless life in our place.

No hero but Jesus could be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.

So, God took on humanity to live the perfect life we could not, and take the punishment our sins deserved.

Your Savior was lifted up on a cross and bore the sins of the world to make the world right with God. Because God so loved the world. And the same Jesus who gave himself up for you is the One who has cleansed you by the washing with water through the word (Ephesians 5:25, 26). Your baptism is proof of “Christ for you”!

That is the beauty of our baptism – whether you were baptized as an adult or as a child. Your baptism was where God personally created or strengthened your faith in Jesus. Your baptism is assurance that Christ’s righteousness is yours. Your baptism is God’s promise to you that you, in Christ, are completely and totally forgiven – that you have been washed – head to toe – by the cleansing tide of his grace – that you belong to him!

No, baptism isn’t necessary for salvation…

…but if baptism personally assures us that we, in Christ, have forgiveness, new life, and salvation – that in baptism our faith is strengthened and our adoption is sealed – where we in actuality are buried with Christ in his death – then to paraphrase the Ethiopian in Acts 8:36, “Why would we not want to be baptized?”

And that is what you are!

When Forgiveness is Giveless

Would you hire an Uber driver who doesn’t know how to drive a car?

Would you call a plumber who doesn’t know a pipe wrench from an Allen wrench?

Would you trust a firefighter who doesn’t know how to use a fire hose?

Probably not.

Not everybody knows how to put out a fire, but we have reason to believe a firefighter does. Your family may not know how to fix a leaky faucet, but we safely assume that a plumber does. Your friends may think you don’t know how to drive your car, but we rightly expect an Uber driver to know how to drive theirs.

What about when it comes to forgiveness?

As simple as forgiving someone sounds, I’d humbly argue that driving a stick-shift, changing a P-trap, or putting out grease fires are way easier. Our Western world seems widely oblivious to what forgiveness is and why forgiveness is needed.

What about us as Christians? We talk about it, sing about it, and even pray about it every Sunday. We pray that God “forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.”

So, is it fair for the world to expect that we, as Christ-followers, know how to forgive?

Pursuing Repentance and Reconciliation

It’s the nature and necessity of forgiveness that’s at the heart of Jesus’ conversation in Matthew 18. He first depicts a fractured relationship between two Christians as the result of one sinning against the other. But instead of talking about the person who wronged you behind their back, Jesus implores you to go to the one who wronged you “and point out their fault, just between the two of you.”

The goal isn’t to show your supposed ‘moral superiority’.

It isn’t to prove how ‘right’ you are and how ‘wrong’ the wrongdoer is.

The goal is to make every attempt to restore fellowship wherever sin has fractured it.

True, these verses tragically end with fellowship between two Christians not restored – and the one who refuses to repent or acknowledge the divisive damage of their sin is treated as if they were an unbeliever – one outside the community of God; but if all we hear in verses 15-18 is “three strikes and you’re out”, then we’re missing what Jesus is really saying.

Jesus is laying out a roadmap for pursuing repentance and reconciliation, with the goal of winning over the Christian who wronged you.

“How Many Times…?”

But now the scenario slightly changes. In verse 21, Peter presents us with someone who doesn’t deny their sin and they don’t refuse to ask for forgiveness. Quite the opposite! They readily acknowledge their sin and ask to be forgiven. But here’s the twist: they’re a repeat offender. They’re asking you to forgive a sin they’ve done against you once, twice, even three times before. What do you do then?

It was popular rabbinic opinion that you were expected to forgive an offense once or twice, but certainly not a third time. Peter more than doubles that figure, but you still get the impression he, too, felt there’s got to come a point where you cut them off.

“Jesus, I get the goal is to pursue gospel reconciliation with radical forgiveness; but there’s got to come a point where they’ve simply out-sinned God’s grace.” “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”

Jesus answers, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.”

Jesus isn’t saying to cut them off at 78 sins instead of 8. His point is, as God’s grace is limitless, so is our forgiveness.

The Necessity of Mercy

To illustrate this, Jesus tells this parable. There was an incredibly rich king who was looking to settle outstanding accounts with employees to whom he had invested large sums of money. We’re not told what the money was to be used for, but it would seem the king expected that money to come back – having earned significant interest. As he began to settle accounts, a man who owed him ten thousand bags of gold was brought to him. To modernize that debt, this servant owed the king upwards of tens of billions of dollars.

That was money this servant clearly didn’t have. Even if he were to be sold into slavery and all he owned liquidated, that wouldn’t put a dent in the debt he owed. He can’t appeal to justice – because this man doesn’t have the means to satisfy what justice demands. So, he desperately appeals to the king for mercy.

He falls on his knees before the king, and begs, “Be patient with me and I will pay back everything.” Thing is, if this man worked eight hours a day for six days a week, it would take him over 160 lifetimes for him to pay the king what he owed.

But this king is way too benevolent to entertain this man’s delusion that he could work his way out of debt. He doesn’t give the man a repayment plan; he gives the man mercy. The king cancels the debt – not by magically making it disappear – but by eating the cost and paying the debt himself.

Can you imagine how liberating that would be? All your debts completely paid in full – by someone other than you?

Can you imagine how life-changing that would be?

We have every reason to expect that such an act of radical, unilateral kindness would transform this man’s perspective entirely – which is why the dissonance that immediately follows is so deafening.

That servant then goes to his servant to settle accounts, too; except Servant B owes Servant A not tens-of-billions, but a little over ten thousand dollars.

Certainly, that isn’t an insignificant amount of money, but it’s a debt a man could pay back in less than a year. Coincidentally, the scenario plays out near identically to the one before. But the mercy you’d rightly expect isn’t shown. “Shouldn’t you have shown mercy to your servant just as I showed mercy towards you?” the king says.

“Wasn’t it necessary that you extend mercy the same way I mercied you?”

The Nature of Mercy

This story showcases the nature of mercy.

Mercy isn’t ‘grace’ given on the other side of a repayment plan: mercy is grace that eats the cost of the debt.

Mercy is a love expressed from the receiving side of sin.

Mercy is counter-cultural compassion for the one who wronged you.

Mercy is the giving of radical, unconditional, indiscriminate forgiveness to everyone who asks for it – not because of their worthiness, or how deserving we think they are – but in spite of the person we forgive.

Mercy is an unwillingness to witness that same person perish as a result of their sin.

Mercy is a willingness to extend forbearance and patience.

Mercy is swallowing the injury of the injustice instead of dishing that pain back out to them.

Mercy is voluntarily suffering in the stead of the one who wronged you.

Mercy is a form of death.

The Casualties of Giveless Forgiveness

That’s why forgiveness is so hard to give.

It’s hard enough for us to just say the words, “I forgive you.” It’s easier to say things like “It’s okay” or “It’s no big deal” (even though it was a big deal and it wasn’t okay). And while it seems innocuous, can you see why “It’s alright” and “Don’t worry about it” are poor substitutes for “I forgive you?” There’s no explicit assurance that you’ve given them forgiveness. And maybe that’s just it: we say these things because we don’t want to forgive them.

Where mercy would have us pay our debtor’s debt ourselves, our sinful nature would have us wring every wrongdoer by the neck to choke and squeeze every last dime out of them. Because my sinful nature isn’t concerned about reconciliation – and it definitely doesn’t care about justice: my sinful nature craves revenge. Why let them off the hook when you can make them grovel and grieve with no guarantee they’ll ever be forgiven?

Maybe you’re open to forgiving them – but only after they’ve paid their debt in full. But here's the honest truth: that day will never come. There will never come a day where you’ll be fully compensated for all the ways they’ve wronged you. To insist “one must be worthy of my forgiveness” is to enslave them to a ‘repayment’ plan that will never end. They’ll be ‘repaying’ you forever.

Even when we settle for “I’ve forgiven them in my heart!” that doesn’t mean you’ve turned the loosing key: it doesn’t mean that you’ve set the person free. To never communicate “I forgive you” personally to the person who wronged you is to ‘forgive’ without giving them forgiveness.

What ‘freedom’ is there on the other side of giveless forgiveness? Absolutely none.

But there’s more than one person suffocating at the hands of a giveless forgiveness: we are, too.

That God invites us to mercy as we have been mercied is an invitation to die.

I can’t give forgiveness without the death of my pride.

I can’t extend mercy without the death of my injured ego.

I can’t exhibit compassion without the death of my impatience.

I can’t extend love without the death of my hatred.

I can’t pursue reconciliation without the death of my grudges.

We’d much rather see the one who wronged us die – even if it’s death by a thousand cuts. We justify all sorts of ways of exacting payment from people, but withholding forgiveness from someone else is just as soul-suffocating to the withholder; it’s a cancer that will eat you alive.

The Freedom to Set Others Free

So, what sets us free to set others free?

The limitless mercy our God has already shown us!

Our sins of pride, hatred, lovelessness, and animosity towards others left us with an infinite debt before God we couldn’t come close to paying back in even 160 lifetimes.

But our God loved us way too much to entertain our delusion that we could work our way out of debt. Our God didn’t give us a repayment plan; God gave us mercy.

Our infinite debt needed an infinitely greater payment than our pitiful attempts to pay God back. So, God gave us his own Son.

God, in Christ, would eat the cost of our debt by his death on the cross.

God, in Christ, would voluntarily suffer in the stead of those who’ve wronged him.

Your debts and mine were counted against Jesus, and we, in exchange, have been accounted Christ’s debt-free slate. Your debts have been eternally obliterated by the infinitely priceless blood of Christ.

The chokehold of sin has no grip on you; you, in Christ, breath nothing but the grace-saturated air of God.

And that your God and Savior rose to life means your forgiveness before God isn’t a pipe dream. On the day you close your eyes in death, you won’t open them to find your God glaring at you like angry accountant – brimming to balance the books. In Christ, the books are eternally balanced.

Can you feel how liberating that is?

It’s the reconciling love of Christ that frees us to pursue reconciling with others.

You follow a Savior who died for the people who wanted him dead; he prayed for the people who put him on a cross.

“Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.”

It’s the radical mercy of God that sets us free to pray the same.

In Christ, we not only see what mercy is, but see why we mercy others. The forgiveness we give isn’t really ours to give: it’s God’s. Christ has set us free to freely forgive as we’ve freely been forgiven!

So, liberally turn the loosing key. Because you, in Christ, are forgiven.

Your Adoption is Signed and Sealed in Grace

Are you familiar with the curious case of Natalia Grace?

My wife and I recently finished watching the docuseries about her life – how she was born in Ukraine with a rare form of dwarfism, and subsequently surrendered by her mother for adoption. After spending the first few years of her life in a Ukrainian orphanage, Natalia was adopted by an American family. Sadly, they would give her up for adoption, too.

Finally, a family from Indiana, the Barnetts, adopted Natalia. But the relationship she had with Kristine and Michael Barnett – her foster parents – was anything but ideal: their relationship was abusive, manipulative, and dangerous.

Why? Depends on whom you ask.

Kristine and Michael Barnett depicted Natalia as a sociopathic con-artist who tried to harm them; Natalia, on the other hand, would tell you the actual crimes committed were by Kristine and Michael Barnett; they, according to Natalia, neglected her, abused her, abandoned her, and disowned her.

So, who’s telling the truth?

I feel like the creators of this docuseries cared a bit more about the drama of Natalia’s story than the actual truth; you’ll quickly notice that everyone’s credibility – including Natalia’s – is constantly questioned and qualified. Right when a particular side of the story sounds more plausible, the docuseries presents you with reason to discredit it. It’s as if the producers want you to be left constantly without any narrative clarity – starving for closure that will ultimately never come. You’re left feeling like Natalia’s belonging to a family that loves and cares for her is an ending to the story that is always out of reach – where adoption into that kind of family is too good to be true.

Our adoption can sound too good to be true, too – can’t it? Yes, I am talking about you – because you were adopted – adopted into the family of God. And when you and I would ask “Why?” of our adoptions, our God takes us to the waters of Christ’s baptism – and the waters of our baptism, too.

Why Would Jesus Ask to be Baptized?

We’re at the shore of the Jordan River – roughly 20 miles East of the city of Jerusalem. And yet, Mark tells us that distance didn’t stop the masses from Jerusalem and the entire Judean countryside from going to hear the message preached by the prophet named John.

John dressed the way the prophet Elijah did – as John was the second Elijah foretold to be the forerunner to the Messiah. John was the one Isaiah depicted as the one calling in the wilderness, “Prepare the way for the Lord.” John’s ministry is compared to that of an architect commissioned by a King to make a massive highway ready for him.

But the highway that John was called to make was not one of physical construction: the highway John was called to prepare was a spiritual highway – a highway not from a King to a city, but a highway from a King to human hearts. John’s job was to ready hearts to receive Jesus, the King of kings.

Now was the time that Jesus would dynamically appear as the Savior of the world to the world.

Now, at the banks of the Jordan River, God the Father and God the Holy Spirit would visibly endorse Jesus’ divinity and delineate him as God’s Anointed One.

Now was the time that he would set aside his identity as the “son of Joseph” and publicly receive praise as the Son of God.

Now was the time for Jesus to leave his days of carpentry behind, and publicly begin his three-year marathon to Mount Calvary.

But in order to fulfill all righteousness, Jesus would be baptized: for Jesus, the road to the cross ran right through the Jordan River.

Which leads us to ask the million-dollar question: why would Jesus ask to be baptized?

It wasn’t because this type of washing was prescribed in Jewish ceremonial law; sure, there were regular washings with water for ritual purification – but this was different. This was new.

In fact, the newness of this washing prompted religious leaders to ask John if he was the Messiah. Because the washing God had commanded John to administer wasn’t merely some symbolic ordinance for people to follow. God is at work in the waters of baptism. The promise of your adoption into God’s family is intimately tied to the waters of your baptism.

Baptism was – and is – a washing of rebirth and renewal – a washing of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The baptism John preached both conveyed and relayed the forgiveness of sins to those baptized.

The Real “Why” Behind Baptism

“Hang on a second, Pastor. Aren’t the waters of baptism simply symbolic of us being buried with Christ?”

To answer that, let’s look again at the words we heard from Romans 6. Notice how Paul intimately ties our baptism to the redemptive work of Christ. Will we, in reality, be united with Christ in a resurrection from the dead like his? Absolutely! But if that’s true – that we, in reality, will be raised from the dead as Jesus was – how can we say baptism only figuratively unites us with Christ in his death?

The waters of baptism aren’t something divorced or emancipated from the person and works of Jesus; no, Christ himself has connected these waters to his person in a very real way.

The life, death, and resurrection of Christ aren’t merely visibly presented in baptism: no, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection are both personally presented and given to the recipient of baptism. This is why the Apostle Paul says in Galatians 3, “For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.”

“I hear you, pastor; but how can physical means, like water, convey spiritual blessings?”

Let’s think about that again for a minute.

Do we not hinge our hopes upon a flesh and blood Savior who is true God and true man? A Savior who physically died for you? Whose physical blood was shed for the spiritual remission of all of our sins?

All throughout Scripture God uses physical, material means to accomplish his saving work - and baptism is no different. After all, it isn’t the water that has the power to give what baptism promises: it’s God’s gospel word of promise connected to the water that gives baptism its power. Consider how the Apostle Peter echoes John the Baptist in Acts 2, when he says to a diverse crowd of thousands, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. This promise is for you and your children…”

Every time ‘baptism’ appears in Scripture, it’s always within a saving context - that through baptism, God works and strengthens saving faith. Through baptism, God gives the forgiveness of sins, newness of life, and salvation. Because baptism isn't just plain water: it is water connected to and applied with the Word of God.

Baptism isn’t your laying claim on God, as it is his laying claim on you! Baptism is the explicit proof that God has adopted you into his family. In baptism, he has adopted you to be his.

Why Would God Adopt Someone Like Me?

But maybe your hang-ups aren’t over the ‘how’ of baptism; maybe you’re hung up on the ‘why’:

Why would God both sign and seal himself over to me?

Why would God adopt someone like us ?

We’re self-righteous and proud. We’re selfish and unsympathetic. We’re users and abusers. We’re liars and cheaters. We’re hateful and hurtful. We’re not even worthy to stoop down and untie the straps Jesus’ sandals.

Why would God want to adopt me into his family?

It's when you and I would ask “Why?” of our adoptions that our God takes us to the waters of Christ’s baptism.

Think about it: why would Jesus need to be baptized? Why would the sinless Son of God need a washing of rebirth and renewal? Why would the blameless Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world need to be baptized for repentance and the forgiveness of sins? Here we see your Savior standing in for you.

Here we find our God numbering himself with the transgressors.

He’s not being baptized for his own sake – but for yours.

It was fitting for Jesus to be baptized as us for us to fulfill all righteousness.

That word – righteous – refers to absolute, complete, total perfection and holiness. And if we had any hope of standing confidently before God, that righteousness is something we didn’t have and couldn’t give – but we desperately needed it.

We needed a Savior who would actively keep the entirety of God’s Word perfectly for us. We needed a Savior who would passively endure the divine justice of God and die in our place.

There at the Jordan River, we find the sinless Son of God emerging from the ranks of sinners to live and die for sinners like us. In Christ, all righteousness has been fulfilled.

Jesus actively kept his word to the letter – and not one stroke of the pen fell through his fingers. Jesus has passively suffered and died – clothed with our rags of sin and regret – so that we would be clothed with the robes of his righteousness. Your baptism is assurance Christ’s wardrobe is yours. Your baptism is God’s promise to you that you, in Christ, are completely and totally forgiven – that you have been washed – head to toe – by the cleansing tide of his grace – that you belong to him!

Some adoption stories of this world might resemble the story of Natalia Grace; but your adoption into God’s family is a completely different story.

No cliffhangers.

No lack of closure.

Your baptism is God’s pledge of undying devotion and fidelity to you! At the Baptism of Jesus, your Triune God visibly manifests his love and his presence and his power to save. God the Father puts his stamp of approval on God the Son.

And in Christ, those words of approval are spoken over you, too – as Christ is our righteousness.

At your baptism, the heavens were opened as well, and God sees you and says, “You are my daughter. You are my son. With you I am well pleased.” In Christ, your adoption into God’s family is signed and sealed.

Believe it.

Rescue Thanksgiving in Just Four Words

Ruin Thanksgiving in just four words.

Over the past few years, I’ve noticed somewhat of an online Thanksgiving tradition – to think up a four-word phrase that would ruin even the best Thanksgiving dinner. For example:

There’s no pumpkin pie.

We forgot the stuffing.

What’s that awful smell?

Who invited your ex?

We’re out of gravy.

We’re out of butter.

I lost a fingernail.

I found a fingernail.

The oven isn’t working.

The oven is smoking!

The turkey is frozen.

The turkey just exploded!

Can you microwave turkey?

Where’s the Pepto Bismol?

Those are just some of the four-word phrases I found online. I’ll let you be the judge of whether those four-word-phrases and what they describe would ruin Thanksgiving for you. But what if these were the four-word phrases you heard at the dinner table?

I’m about to die.

Tonight, I’ll be betrayed.

Tonight, you’ll abandon me.

Tonight, I’ll be arrested.

I will be slandered.

I will be flogged.

I will be condemned.

I will be crucified.

That hour has come.

“You Will Have Trouble…”

The disciples didn’t have to imagine what phrases like that would do to the ambiance at a dinner-party; because Jesus said all of those while they were celebrating the Passover meal. And if the disciples weren’t already tense or troubled, Jesus starts dropping new prophetic details about what was imminently about to go down.

Jesus tells them that one of them would betray him. He tells them they would all desert him and disown him. He tells them he would be “delivered over to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified…”.

You think an undercooked turkey is cause for emotional crisis? How would you be feeling if your teacher, your leader, your best friend told you he was about to die? How would you feel if the person you hoped would be the Savior of the world tells you he would soon be seized and murdered as a blasphemer and an enemy of the state?

But the disciples were tense even before the dinner began. The disciples knew the religious leaders had it out for Jesus. They knew going to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover was dangerous, so dangerous that Jesus could possibly die and the disciples die with him.

But Jesus never talked about his death as merely an ‘occupational hazard’. He never spoke about his death in terms of a possibility – or even a probability.

No, Jesus spoke of his death as an inevitability.

And not just that he would die – but that he deliberately came to die. His death was by divine purpose.

In a little while, Jesus would accomplish his divine mission.

In a little while, God the Son would return to God the Father. Jesus was nearing the finish line – but the race Jesus was running on the world’s behalf ran right through Calvary.

In a little while [his disciples would] see [him] no more…

Talk about some heavy subject matter to share at a dinner table! Jesus shared this to brace his disciples for what was about to happen. The next several hours would be absolutely traumatic – an emotional rollercoaster of anxiety, grief, and guilt.

And Jesus doesn’t just forecast the next 72 hours. Jesus forecasts years beyond that.

The disciples would be dragged before kings and cast out of social circles. The world’s joy would often coincide with their suffering. Just as the world hated Jesus, the world would hate his disciples. And Jesus doesn’t speak of that in terms of possibility or probability, either. He speaks of the world hating his disciples as an inevitability. Jesus summarizes that inevitability in four words: “You will have trouble.”

We Will Have Trouble

But Jesus isn’t just foreshadowing their future in those four words. He’s foreshadowing your future, too. As Christians, the joy you and I have in Jesus will inevitably put us at odds with the world today. After all, we follow a crucified God. Jesus is bracing us for the inevitable – that, wherever our world hates Jesus, their joy will frequently coincide with our grief.

But the inevitability of our sorrow and suffering isn’t exclusively the result of us being persecuted. No, there are other ways living in a sinful, broken world brings us to weep and mourn. In fact, I’m willing to bet most of you aren’t worried about whether you’ll have enough gravy or whether there will be pumpkin pie. There are other four-word phrases weighing on your heart – phrases that completely trivialize smoking ovens and frozen turkeys.

I miss my mom.

I miss my grandpa.

I lost my job.

I filed for bankruptcy.

She cheated on me.

He doesn’t love me.

My parents are divorcing.

I didn’t get accepted.

I’m starting to relapse.

I’ve hit rock bottom.

No one loves me.

My relationships are crumbling.

My cancer is back.

I’m afraid of dying.

I can’t forgive myself.

God, where are you?

Has God abandoned me?

Suddenly, the fear of a bunch of trembling disciples two-thousand years ago doesn’t sound so unrelatable, does it?

We get it. Because we’re afraid our inevitable troubles mean’s our God isn’t in control, that he’s abandoned us like orphans, that he doesn’t care, or he isn’t there.

For a world full of violence, we’re looking for reasons to be full of hope.

For people who are full of anxiety, we’re itching for answers that leave us full of peace.

For hearts full of regrets, we’re starving to know that we’re fully forgiven.

Thankfully, that kind of fullness and fulfillment isn’t far from any of us. That kind of fullness and fulfillment is found in Jesus.

Yes, “You will have trouble…” Jesus says. But those weren’t the only four words Jesus spoke at that table; that same Jesus closes that dinner conversation saying, “I’ve overcome the world” (ἐγὼ νενίκηκα τὸν κόσμον).

“I’ve Overcome the World”

In a little while, Jesus’ disciples would no longer see him, because he had come to be the Lamb of God slain for the sin, guilt, and shame of the world.

In a little while, Christ would endure the divine justice we deserved on a cross, so that we would be set free.

In a little while, the eternal Son of God would bleed and die – all because of his undying love for you!

And in a little while, Jesus’ disciples would see him again! Jesus wouldn’t stay dead; he rose – and visibly appeared in the flesh to his disciples – not with judgment and condemnation, but with words of absolution and peace!

“Now is your time of grief,” Jesus says at that dinner table, “but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.”

You, in Christ, do have peace with God – and the grubby hands of this world will never steal it.

The peace that Jesus gives is a relational reality with God that this world cannot assault. Because it’s a peace that isn’t produced or procured by this world.

It’s a peace that proceeds from Christ, our Prophet, Priest, and King. It’s a peace that pours from the punctured hands and feet of our Savior. It’s a peace that penetrates and permeates every aspect of our lives. And how do we know this promise is genuine?

Because you will see him again. Your Savior lives.

He died your death and swallowed death in his victory! Death has been decisively defeated!

In Christ, death is devastatingly demoted to nothing more than a midwife – a midwife that transitions us from a life of pain and suffering to an eternity of joy with God.

Just like a woman in labor, now is our time of grief. But that grief only lasts for a little while – and then it is infinitely overshadowed by the joy she holds in her arms. How much greater the joy we hold within our hearts in Christ! How much greater our certainty of seeing our Savior again!

Whatever four-word phrases threaten to ruin your Thanksgiving, remember that, from the vantage point of eternity, such suffering and sorrow are just a little while. But your Savior doesn’t make you wait until the end for comfort. While there will be trouble in our future for Christ’s sake, Christ’s accomplished victory already speaks to our present. Jesus’ victory doesn’t just get the last word; it get’s the first word, too!

So, wherever you are this Thanksgiving, remember your Savior’s gracious four-word phrases he shared from the dinner table: “Do not be afraid. You trust in God. Trust also in me. You will see me. And you will rejoice. You can take heart. I’ve overcome the world.”

In the Midst of Lions

“I am in the midst of lions – men whose teeth are spears and arrows, whose tongues are sharp swords”.

No, these aren’t the words of Martin Luther. But on April 18, 1521, as this 34-year-old Augustinian monk stood before the heavyweights of the Roman Catholic Church and Emperor Charles V himself, those words might have come to mind.

At that meeting held in the city of Worms, Germany, Luther was hoping to discuss what the Bible actually teaches – particularly about, what is known as, the doctrine of justification.

Because, where Scripture teaches that our salvation is not by works – but is a freely given gift of God, the Catholic Church was literally selling people their salvation. Where Scripture teaches that we are saved by God’s grace alone, through faith alone, on account of Christ alone, the Catholic Church taught we are saved by the grace we earn from God through the doing of good works. Where the Bible teaches that there is one mediator between God and men, that being the God-Man Christ Jesus, the papacy had effectively usurped Christ and his role as our sole, sufficient mediator and was now gatekeeping the vaults of God’s mercy.

But Luther wasn’t given a scriptural conversation; he was given an ultimatum.

He could either take back everything he ever said and wrote, or face death.

This wasn’t a meeting; this gathering looked more like a lions’ den – and the lions were roaring.

Martin Luther was considered by Pope Leo X as “a wild boar” running loose in God’s vineyard – but not anymore: the lions had cornered their quarry. Martin Luther was standing in the midst of lions.

But he wasn’t alone.

The Lions Are Lurking…

Daniel knew the feeling, too, didn’t he? I mean, if you thought Martin Luther’s situation looked incredibly bleak, Daniel’s situation looked way worse. Daniel has just been tossed into a pit of ferocious lions – lions whose mouths are loaded with 30 teeth and whose jaws have a bite force four times stronger than yours – 650 pounds per square inch; that’s enough force not just to break your bones, but completely crush them. And that’s just one lion. Now imagine an entire den full of them – and you’ve been tossed into their midst to be their next chew toy.

But from what we just read in Daniel 6, we discover that Daniel had been “in the midst of lions” even before he was tossed into a lions’ den. Long before lions would attempt to tear him up, his colleagues had conspired to tear him down. And at the beginning of chapter 6, they’re circling Daniel, waiting for a moment to strike.

You see, Daniel was up for a promotion – a pretty big one, too. He, along with two other administrators, was in the running to be appointed governor of the city of Babylon. Thing is, King Darius had his heart set on promoting Daniel. In fact, Daniel so distinguished himself among the administrators and the satraps by his exceptional qualities that the king planned to set him over the whole kingdom.

While others in his position may have abused their power for personal gain, you couldn’t find that kind of corruption in Daniel: he remained a man of integrity. When others within the king’s inner circle would bend the truth to benefit themselves, you’d find no truth-bending with Daniel: he was a man who was worthy of trust. Where his colleagues may have slacked off and cut corners, you could never catch Daniel being negligent: Daniel’s work performance was solid. In the eyes of King Darius, having just conquered the city of Babylon, the more jurisdiction given to someone like Daniel, the better.

None of that sat well with Daniel’s colleagues. But their conspiracy to take Daniel down wasn’t driven by merely by petty jealousy; these men were out for blood – his blood. Those administrators and satraps didn’t relish the thought of a Jewish exile being their boss. So, they tried to dig up dirt on Daniel. They dug into his professional life, hoping to find charges against Daniel in how he conducted his government work – but they were unable to do so. They dug into his private life, hoping to expose an incriminating side of Daniel that Darius didn’t see. But there was no distance between Daniel’s private life and professional life. The Daniel you found at the office was the Daniel you found at home.

Daniel was a man who didn’t privatize his integrity, honesty, and trustworthiness – because he didn’t privatize his Christian identity and his faith in the LORD God. There was no leaving his Savior at home. His devotion to his God was visibly noticed and widely known by his peers. “We will never find any basis for charges against this man Daniel,” they said, "“unless it has something to do with the law of his God.”

So, they came up with a plan: they’d approach the king together as one mob to pressure  the king into issuing an edict – an edict that conveniently appealed to the king’s ego. For the next thirty days, there would be no worship of any other gods – that is, of course, except the worship of Darius.

Their proposition wasn’t simply to mandate the veneration of the state; they were mandating the veneration of a man: Darius was to be worshipped as a god.

For the next thirty days, all prayers had to be directed to Darius – as he was now the sole mediator and great high priest between the gods and the Persian empire – and if anyone wanted the favor of the gods, they had no other avenue but to go through Darius (sound familiar?). And anyone who prays to any god or human being – other than Darius – [would] be thrown into the lions’ den.

The king loved the sound of that – until his irreversible decree backfired.

Daniel’s loyalties to God and His Word trumped his loyalties to the state. That Daniel deliberately prayed three times a day facing Jerusalem communicated he wasn’t going through Darius to find God’s favor. It’s not that Daniel didn’t know the risks connected with communicating his love and trust in the LORD above all things: he clearly did. Now he was sitting in the midst of lions.

But he wasn’t alone.

We’re in the Midst of Lions

You see, this isn’t some moral fable about the pain that comes when we take the high road in the workplace; this is a cut-and-dry story – a true story – of the inevitable persecution that Christians face for professing and living out their faith in Christ.

I think of Christians today in Southeast Asia – whose biggest concern on any given Sunday isn’t whether they’ll get out of church “on time” to watch the big game, or whether worship services should feature an organ or a praise band. Their biggest concern on any given Sunday is whether the police will storm into their underground house church and take them away in handcuffs.

I think of Church reformers like Jan Hus, who criticized the papacy and championed the sole supremacy and sufficiency of Christ as our redeemer and mediator – and those convictions resulted in him being burned at the stake, and his ashes dumped in the Rhine River.

And then there’s King David, who – centuries before Daniel – describes how he felt as he was being persecuted in the words of Psalm 57:4: “I am in the midst of lions; I am forced to dwell among ravenous beasts – men whose teeth are spears and arrows, whose tongues are sharp swords.”

Maybe those are your words, too.

Maybe you’ve felt the bite for being a Christian.

Maybe your social circle has snapped at you for saying “no” to something you know isn’t right.

Maybe your colleagues have roared at you because you go to a book that was written millennia ago for truth and guidance instead of trusting horoscopes and influencers on TikTok.

Maybe you’ve felt surrounded by people who are out to get you – all because you cling to a crucified God for comfort.

We, dear Christian, are in the midst of lions.

But we are not alone.

The Lion of Judah Stands With You

Your God is with you – just as your God was with Daniel.

God sent his angel shut the powerful jaws of every lion surrounding his prophet. God delivered Daniel from that lions’ den – just as your God continues to deliver you from yours. That isn’t to say the time between now and eternity will be free of pain or persecution for our faith.

But what we can’t say is “God has abandoned me.” Because he hasn’t. He’s will always be with you. He will never leave you or forsake you.

And how do we know that to be true? How do we know that we are not alone?

Because your God doesn’t just stand with you in the midst of lions; your God would stand for you in the midst of lions.

Jesus endured the sum total of all persecution and hatred that every Christian has and will experience. Jesus, through the words of David, would say as he suffers and dies on a cross that “roaring lions that tear their prey open their mouths wide against me…They pierce my hands and my feet” (Psalm 22:13, 16b).

But your Savior wouldn’t just be devoured by the mistreatment, abuse, and mockery of the world for you. Your Savior would endure the bite of God’s justice to free you from the jaws of death. And three days later, your Savior emerged victorious from the den of death – proving he has rescued you from sin and death as well. It is entirely by God’s undeserved, freely given love that you are saved.

That salvation is credited to you freely as a gift through faith in Jesus. It is on account of his righteousness – not ours – that you and I are reconciled to God. It is by his works – not ours – that we have absolute certainty of our salvation. There is one mediator between God and man – that is, the God-Man Christ Jesus. And if he has set you free from sin, death, and hell, then you’re free! Full stop.

God delivered Daniel, just as he delivered Martin Luther. And that’s the same God who has and will deliver you.

In the end, we will see the vindication of God’s Word and the deliverance of God’s people; but we don’t need to wait until then to know God’s Word has been vindicated and his people delivered. Look no further than Christ’s cross and his empty tomb.

See your God dying to deliver you from death.

See your Savior rising from the dead to prove that he’s won you life!

The time is coming when every roaring lion will be silenced, and every knee will bow to the Lion of Judah – our God and Savior Jesus who rescues and saves.

So, let the lions roar. Christ, the Lion of Judah roars with you – and for you.

The Need We Need

If there was one thing you feel you need right now in your life more than anything else, what would that one thing be?

A new phone?

A new house?

A reliable car?

Or reliable friends?

Is your greatest need right now the need for more confidence at your job? Or more money from your job?

Abraham Maslow was a psychologist from the 20th century who argued that all human needs could be ordered into a hierarchy – each need building upon a previous, lesser need being met. The gist of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs was that, in order for us to meet our higher needs (needs like self-esteem, respect from others, accomplishment, and self-actualization), our lesser, more basic needs need to be met first – needs like sleep, breathing, water, and food.

Maslow’s theory was that, if we fail to meet even our most basic, fundamental needs, our perceived highest needs won’t be met either.

And then there’s Jesus, who, in Luke 12, lays out a radically different ‘hierarchy’ of needs; and in his hierarchy of needs, Jesus argues there’s not only a need we need that’s beyond our perceived highest need, but that same need is a need far more foundational than our need for food and clothes.

Our Higher, More Foundational Need

Jesus had just shared a short story to illustrate how existentially foolish it is for a person to define themselves by the abundance of their possessions.

He tells a parable about a man who was undeniably rich – a man who had invested his security, his peace, his comfort, happiness, and joy in his stuff – a man who defined himself by his accomplishments and accumulated treasures. This man had amassed so much wealth, he estimated that he would never be in need again.

And yet, in spite of everything he had, this man ironically had a need even higher than his need for praise and recognition; he had a need far more foundational than the need to eat every day.

Sure, in the world’s economy, he was quintessentially rich; but in God’s economy, this man was bankrupt – and God had now come to collect. On the day this man’s life suddenly ended, God wouldn’t define him with all the prestigious titles the world gave him for his wealth. God defines him as he would anyone who invests eternal value in temporary treasures – who stores up things for themselves but is not rich towards God: God defines him as a ‘fool’.

This man had foolishly trusted his wealth to free him from a life of worry – but as he stands empty-handed before his God and Creator, he had a lot to worry about.

It’s in the immediate context of that parable that Jesus says to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes.” There’s more to our lives than worrying about making money, paying bills, filling our fridge, or working overtime. A person’s life before God is neither defined by the lack of nor the abundance of their material possessions – just as the worth of a person in the eyes of God isn’t defined by the food and clothes they do or don’t have. You are valuable and precious to God, and for that reason Jesus says to you, “Do not worry about anything.”

Consider the Birds and Flowers…

To drive this point home, Jesus asks his disciples to think about two pictures: the life of ravens and the life of plants. Ravens, for instance, don’t get up every morning and stress out about whether they’ll find food. They don’t fill their wings with seed and sow it into the earth, they don’t harvest it when the time comes, nor do they frantically build barns to stockpile any food they find, either.

They don’t stress out about what they will eat – and yet, God feeds them.

And then you have the flowers of the field. They grow – and not because they toil and labor at their 9 to 5 6 days a week. They don’t work at all – and yet, not even [King] Solomon in all his [wealth and] splendor was dressed [as beautifully] as one of these [flowers].

Notice, the common thread that runs through both pictures isn’t worry: the common thread is that both ravens and flowers are valuable to their Creator; the common thread is that the needs of both ravens and flowers are met by God.

And if God cares for grungy birds that dine on carrion, if God cares for the grass of the field which is here today, and tomorrow [withers, dies, and] is thrown into the fire, how much more valuable are you than they?

So, Why Do We Worry?

Jesus’ message is simple: we don’t need to worry about anything. After all, what does all that worrying even accomplish? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?

Modern studies on ‘worry’ back Jesus up on this, and show that excessive worrying can actually cause health complications – and even shorten your life! But before you start worrying about how much you’re worrying, can you see what Jesus is saying? He isn’t just saying that worrying is unproductive or unhealthy – though both are true; Jesus is saying that our worrying is completely unnecessary. Notice, the birds of the air and the flowers of the field – neither of them worry, and their needs are still met. The ‘condition’ of their needs being met isn’t their worry – but God’s grace.

The thought that ravens and flowers worry about whether they’ll be clothed or fed is ridiculous, isn’t it? But that’s exactly Jesus’ point: it’s just as ridiculous when we worry about whether we’ll be clothed or fed.

But we can’t end the sermon there, can we? The main point of Jesus’ message might be simple, there is nothing simple about Jesus’ command, “Do not worry.” Why is that? If, according to Jesus, worrying about our ‘needs’ is unhealthy, unproductive, and unnecessary, then why do we still worry?

The Heart Beneath Our Worry

Well, what does it actually mean “to worry”? We often define worry physiologically – the racing of our heartbeat, a state of restlessness and fatigue; we define ‘worry’ as a feeling of fear, concern, or anxiety that viscerally disrupts our relaxation and peace of mind.

And while that’s certainly true, worry is far more than just biology. After all, Jesus isn’t going after the biology behind our worry; Jesus isn’t downplaying the importance of eating healthy, exercising, or getting a good night’s sleep; Jesus isn’t denouncing the use of modern medicine, nor is he dissuading anyone from seeking professional help should their anxiety get out of hand.

Jesus is challenging the heart beneath our worry.

Because, whether we realize it or not, worry is far more than ruminating about impending dangers or anticipated problems.

‘Worry’ isn’t just a fear that what we feel we need most will not be met.

‘Worry’ is a is a subtle assertion that we’re on our own, that we have to fend for ourselves, that God either isn’t involved or isn’t invested in his creation, that God can’t meet any of our needs. Instead of casting our worries onto God, we hang on to our worry – convinced we have to save ourselves.

Worry Reveals Our Idols

A pastor once said that, “If your heart is full of worry, you’re worshipping the wrong God.” That gets at the heart of our worry, doesn’t it? Because at the heart of all our worrying is idolatry.

Don’t believe me?

Well, what are the things that you worry about most? What things keep you up at night? What causes you to lose sleep? What needs do you feel you need more than anything else in the world? Maybe the ‘need’ you feel you need most is material stuff, like food, clothes, and money.

But you and I both know that not all our needs are material needs. Maybe the ‘need’ you worry about constantly is professional – pertaining to your job or vocations: you need to be successful; you need to make your family proud; you need to get that promotion; you need recognition from your peers; you need people to see all the hard work that you do; you need your coworkers to cut you a little more slack.

Maybe you feel the ‘needs’ you ‘need’ most are relational: you need to be liked; you need to be loved; you need to be valued; you need to be respected; you need to be appreciated. You see, a heart that worries about all these perceived ‘needs’ is a heart that loves and trusts in these things over God.

Christ Meets Our Needs

The Christian author, C.S. Lewis, once wrote, “Aim at heaven, and you will get earth thrown in; aim at earth, and you get neither.”

That Jesus calls us to seek first his kingdom is his invitation to see the world through a greater hierarchy of needs. But notice, the kingdom that we are called to “seek” is the same kingdom our God has already been pleased to give us! Jesus is drawing our attention to a need that everyone in this world desperately has – a need that this material world can never meet.

It’s a need that is beyond our perceived highest needs, and yet it’s a need far more foundational than even our need for food and clothes.

But do not worry; that need has been eternally met in Jesus.

Whether you consider yourself rich or poor, we all needed a right relationship with God. And because of our idolatry and seeking the world’s wealth instead of his kingdom, God could rightly call us a ‘fool’, too. But God wouldn’t leave us spiritually bankrupt before him; our God, who is rich in love, would come to right the ledger – and he would do that with the divine currency of his own blood.

Where we would value earthly blessings more than the Blesser, the Son of God denied the wealth of this world and became poor – so that through his poverty we would be rich towards God. When neither our gold nor silver could buy our way into good standing with God, God would by giving his body and blood into death; the Son of God would take our debt onto himself and, in exchange, clothe us with the richness of his righteousness. Christ would leave the mansions of heaven for a time so you would be able to call them your home for an eternity! And that Christ rose from the dead assures us of the treasures of heaven to come.

You, in Christ, have a clean slate. Your debt has forever been paid. Your greatest need has been met eternally in Christ.

Why would God go to such great lengths to redeem you from sin, death, and hell and rescue you from the shackles of your worries? You are his treasure. You are not defined by the treasures that are here today and gone tomorrow. You are defined by Jesus – and who he has declared you to be: God’s dearly beloved child!

And if that is the length your God would go to meet your highest, most foundational need, you don’t need to worry: God will meet your lesser needs, too!

If God is your shepherd, then you are free from all your fear and anxiety.

If God is my Savior, I’m free from the dread of guilt and shame.

If Christ is my Rescuer, then I’m free from the worry of where I’ll spend eternity.

If God is both my friend and my brother, then what can man do to me?

If God is my Father, I’m free from worrying about whether I’ll have what I need for today and tomorrow.

So, don’t be afraid, little flock. God cares for birds and plants. Your God most certainly cares for you! He will always meet the needs we need.