Category: Devotional

Title: Power vs. Responsibility: Thoughts on Christian Leadership

Christian leadership is fundamentally different from worldly leadership, where authority is often equated with power and influence. Jesus, however, flips this script, embodying and teaching a leadership style built on responsibility and service rather than control. In Mark 10, after James and John ask for places of honor, Jesus clarifies that greatness in His kingdom is marked by servanthood, not status: “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all” (Mark 10:43-44). In Matthew 20 and Luke 18, Jesus reinforces this servant-first mindset, revealing that real influence in God’s kingdom doesn’t depend on personal gain or ambition but on a commitment to the well-being of others.

Even Jesus Himself, the ultimate leader, demonstrates this humility and submission. Though He has been given “all authority in heaven and on earth” (Matthew 28:18), He attributes this authority to the Father’s will. He willingly submits to the Father, revealing that true authority is always accountable to God. This accountability isn’t about restriction but rather about anchoring leadership in divine responsibility. Jesus models that Christian leaders are responsible not only for leading others well but also for living under God’s guidance, accountable for how they steward the trust and responsibilities given to them.

The world measures leadership by power and control, but in God’s kingdom, leadership is defined by humility, service, and self-sacrifice. True Christian leadership is not an exercise in authority but an act of profound responsibility and accountability to God and others. As we seek to influence those around us, may we remember that we’re not called to make our own mark but to humbly serve in a way that reflects Jesus, our ultimate leader.

What Is Jesus Worth To You?

When Jesus told the rich man to sell all he had and give it to the poor, He wasn’t just making a statement about wealth; He was getting to the heart of what really matters to us. Jesus, in His unique way, challenged the rich man—and all of us—to think deeply about what we value most. Is there anything that, if Jesus asked, we would hesitate to give up? For the rich man, his wealth was more than just possessions; it was his security, identity, and comfort. When asked to let it go, he walked away saddened, revealing just how attached he was to something that would eventually fade.

This story doesn’t necessarily mean that every Christian must give away all they own, but it does reveal that we’re each called to hold everything we have with open hands. The point isn’t that Jesus is set on taking everything from us; it’s that He wants us to be willing to place everything in His hands. That includes our wealth, but it extends to our ambitions, our relationships, and even our plans for the future. It’s about who or what sits on the throne of our hearts.

Jesus’ question to the rich man is a question He extends to each of us: What is Jesus worth to you? Is He worth more than your possessions, dreams, or even comfort? True discipleship isn’t about poverty or self-denial for its own sake, but about aligning our hearts with what will truly last. When we recognize that Jesus is our highest treasure, we find that nothing else compares.

Tainted Love

Jesus’ prayer for Lazarus, offered publicly just before He called Lazarus from the tomb, was intentional and direct. It wasn’t a show of personal piety but a clear call to witness God’s power so that “they may believe that you sent me” (John 11:42). Jesus demonstrated that public faith—done for the right reasons—can have a profound impact. Like a light set on a hill, some faith acts are meant to be seen, leading others toward the hope we have in God.

This concept isn’t new in Scripture. Daniel famously prayed in front of an open window despite a law against it, standing firm in his dedication to God regardless of who saw or what consequences he faced (Daniel 6:10). His actions, like Jesus’ prayer, pointed beyond himself to the God who is worthy of trust even in hostile circumstances. Public faith like this shines in humility, not self-promotion, serving to inspire courage and commitment in others.

Yet, we’re also cautioned about letting public expressions of faith become tainted love—acts done for personal validation rather than God’s glory. Jesus criticized the Pharisees for practicing righteousness to be “seen by men” (Matthew 6:1), aiming not to glorify God but to elevate their own image. Their so-called love for God was tainted by a desire for recognition, and Jesus makes it clear that this approach leads nowhere.

For us, the challenge is simple yet profound: we can and should live our faith openly, but only if the aim is to lead others to God rather than elevating ourselves. True love for God will be untainted by pride, focused on glorifying Him in all we do. So, the next time we feel led to act in faith publicly, let’s pause and consider—are we motivated by a pure heart that longs to point others to Christ, or is there a hint of tainted love? Ultimately, there’s only one name worth exalting.

Evidence & Excuses

Ever notice how, for some people, there’s never “enough” evidence for God? You could show them miracles, point to transformed lives, or share fulfilled prophecies—but they still hesitate. In Luke 16, Jesus confronts this mindset in the story of the rich man and Lazarus. We meet a man who waited too long. From his place of torment, he begs for someone to warn his brothers, hoping to give them “enough” evidence to believe. But Jesus’ response is stark: “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them” (Luke 16:29). In other words, the truth is already in front of them if they’re willing to see it.

Jesus’ words reveal something crucial about faith: it isn’t a scavenger hunt for irrefutable proof but a journey of seeking, trusting, and responding to the evidence already present. Often, what we’re really looking for isn’t more evidence but the courage to act on what we know. Like in Matthew 13, Jesus explained that His parables were meant to be understood by those willing to seek—those with open hearts and searching minds.

Our desire for “more proof” can sometimes be a guise for something deeper: a desire to stay in control. A demand for unending evidence often masks our reluctance to submit our lives to a holy God. We may say we want to believe, but often we’re more comfortable holding onto the illusion of self-determination. Admitting that God’s way is true means surrendering to His authority—a step that can feel like losing our grip on our own destiny.

The rich man’s plea for “more” shows us that delaying faith can lead to missing out on the real opportunity to believe—right here, right now. Romans 1 reminds us that God’s nature is evident in creation, and Hebrews 11:6 tells us that “without faith, it is impossible to please God.” Faith begins where control ends, and sometimes our quest for “more proof” only keeps us from seeing the truth that’s already evident.

In our hearts, the question isn’t whether there’s enough evidence. It’s whether we’re willing to act on it—and willing to yield. Today, ask yourself: am I holding back because I truly need more proof, or am I reluctant to give up my own way? God has shown us enough to trust Him. Now, we must decide whether we will.

Work the Hardest, Take the Least

In Luke 13:22-30 and 14:7-14, Jesus is both teaching and modeling a value that is deeply counter-cultural: the path to greatness in God’s kingdom is through humility, service, and selflessness. When the disciples are jockeying for position, and the crowd assumes that only the “qualified” will enter the kingdom, Jesus gives them a clear message—many who assume they’re first will find themselves last.

In these passages, Jesus first addresses the need to strive to enter the narrow door. The Greek verb used here, agonizomai, suggests a kind of intense, strenuous effort. It isn’t a matter of casual belief or superficial faith; it’s a dedicated pursuit that requires heart and soul. But even in the intensity of striving, Jesus goes on to say, we shouldn’t expect to take the highest seat.

In Luke 14:7-14, Jesus turns His attention to humility in social settings, giving a memorable illustration of guests at a banquet. Instead of seeking the place of honor, He instructs us to choose the least place, allowing the host to elevate us if he chooses. The kingdom, Jesus shows, is not about achieving high status but about taking on the role of the servant—the one who works hard without expectation of reward.

When we live with this humility, we free ourselves from the burden of recognition and avoid the risk of entitlement that Jesus warns can keep many out of the kingdom. Serving and loving others from the least position may seem unrewarding on the surface, but it aligns us with Jesus’ heart and reflects His sacrifice. And just as God exalts the humble, He promises to one day elevate those who took the lowest place in this life.

The challenge Jesus offers is this: When we’re eager to see growth or success, let’s not make it about ourselves. Instead, let’s “work the hardest and take the least,” joyfully serving others as we follow Jesus’ example. Only in letting go of the pursuit of self-gain do we find ourselves truly embracing kingdom values.

Never Stop Never Stopping

The title of today’s devotional is borrowed from the comedy film Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping by Andy Samberg—a film about an artist who refuses to quit despite repeated failures. And while it’s an over-the-top satire, that relentless spirit of pressing forward mirrors something crucial about the life of faith. For believers, the call to stay the course in God’s work isn’t a joke, it’s a mandate.

In Luke 13, Jesus tells the parable of the fig tree, where the gardener pleads for more time to tend the tree before cutting it down, asking for one last effort to see if it will bear fruit. It’s a picture of divine patience and hope for redemption, not giving up too soon on what still has potential.

This is the kind of perseverance Jesus calls us to. When He commissions us to work for His kingdom, to “harvest” by making disciples, there’s an urgency to the task. But there’s also an enduring patience, a refusal to give up. Seeds are planted, sometimes taking seasons or years to show signs of life. The harvest may seem delayed or even doubtful at times. But our task is not to predict the yield; it’s to faithfully tend the soil, plant the seeds, and trust God to bring the increase.

Jesus’ teaching reminds us that it’s not about the speed of results, but about the faithfulness of our labor. It’s easy to grow weary and think, “Nothing is happening here—time to move on.” But God doesn’t waste the seeds He plants, nor does He call us to walk away from them prematurely. Our role is to persist, to work while it’s still light out, to continue planting, praying, and sharing. As long as there’s time, there’s potential.

Of course, this doesn’t mean we’ll see every seed bear fruit in our lifetime. Sometimes the harvest is for someone else to reap. Other times, the waiting itself is the point—teaching us trust and perseverance. In the end, the harvest is up to God. Our job is to “never stop never stopping,” faithfully laboring in the fields of His Kingdom.

There’s no room for giving up when eternity is at stake. The best way to ensure more seeds can be planted and nurtured is by making room in the harvest. We must work with urgency but also with patient faith. In the end, it’s God’s field, God’s seed, and God’s harvest.

As we work, we’re reminded: there’s only so much time before night falls, but as long as it’s day, we must stay the course. We may not see the results we hoped for right away, but rest assured—the seeds of the Kingdom are never wasted. So never stop. And never stop never stopping.

He Who Dies With the Most Toys Still Dies

Growing up as a millennial who often identified with Gen-X culture, I vividly remember the iconic “No Fear” t-shirts that were all the rage in the 90s. One slogan stuck with me: “He who dies with the most toys still dies.” At the time, it seemed like a clever pushback against the materialism of the culture around me, but there was more truth in it than I realized. It calls out the futility of measuring life by our possessions.

Jesus addresses this very issue in Luke 12:22-34 when He challenges His followers to stop worrying about what they’ll eat or wear. He points out that, in life, we often want more than we need. This isn’t just about greed; it’s about a deeper issue—trust. Instead of trusting that God will provide for us, we often rely on ourselves, stockpiling resources in the hope that we’ll feel secure. Like the rich fool in Luke 12:16-21, we build bigger barns, gather more, and look to our possessions for peace. But even if we gain everything we think we need, it’s still not enough, because deep down, we don’t trust that God’s provision is sufficient.

We’re not all that different from the rich fool. We live in a culture that tells us security comes from having “enough”—enough money, enough success, enough recognition. The problem is that our definition of “enough” keeps changing. When we focus on accumulating more, we’re really saying that God isn’t enough for us. We don’t trust Him to give us what we need, so we try to take care of ourselves.

Jesus offers a better way. He tells us to seek first God’s Kingdom and trust that everything else will fall into place. What He promises isn’t a life of luxury, but a life free from the constant anxiety of trying to secure ourselves. Faith is trusting that God knows our needs better than we do—and that, ultimately, our treasure isn’t in what we can accumulate here on earth. It’s in heaven, where no amount of wealth or possessions can ever compare.

At the end of the day, the slogan still holds true: “He who dies with the most toys still dies.” But for those of us who trust in God’s provision, we’ve found something better than toys. We’ve found true peace, true security, and a treasure that will last for eternity.

Prayer 101 with Professor Jesus

Prayer was one of the most profound gifts that Jesus left to His followers, and He didn’t leave us without guidance. In fact, He taught us exactly how to pray in both Matthew and Luke’s Gospels, offering us a template that goes beyond mere words. It shows the heart and posture we should have in our communication with God. But is this prayer meant to be a formula we repeat, or does it highlight the essential attributes our own prayers should reflect?

When Jesus teaches us to pray with the words “Our Father,” He sets the foundation: prayer begins with relationship. God is not some distant deity, but our loving Father. This familial term invites us into a close, intimate space with the Creator of the universe. But it’s not all about us, is it? The phrase continues, “hallowed be Your name.” We are reminded to approach God with reverence, seeking His glory above all else. This balance of intimacy and reverence is crucial—prayer isn’t just casual conversation; it’s communion with the Almighty.

As we move through the Lord’s Prayer, we see a pattern emerge: acknowledge God’s holiness, align ourselves with His kingdom purposes, ask for daily sustenance, and seek forgiveness while extending it to others. This pattern shapes the priorities of prayer. Jesus is showing us that prayer isn’t simply about rattling off requests. It’s about inviting God’s kingdom into our hearts and lives, shaping our desires to match His.

What’s more, Jesus’ teaching on prayer doesn’t stop with the Lord’s Prayer. He goes on to compare God to a neighbor who is initially reluctant to help but finally gives in to persistent knocking (Luke 11:5-8). At first glance, this comparison can seem strange, even irreverent. Why liken God to a reluctant neighbor? Jesus is not saying that God is annoyed by our prayers, but rather highlighting the power of persistence. The point is clear: even a grumpy neighbor eventually responds to persistence. How much more will our loving Father hear us when we come to Him in prayer?

Persistence, reverence, alignment with God’s will, and trust in His provision—these are the marks of prayer that Jesus teaches us. It’s not about mindless repetition, nor is it about manipulating outcomes. Instead, it’s about being deeply rooted in relationship with God, seeking His will, and trusting Him to provide.

When we look at Jesus’ other prayers in the Gospels, such as His prayer in Gethsemane, the same elements are present. Even in His darkest hour, Jesus submits to the Father’s will, trusting in the goodness of God’s plan even when it meant His own suffering. This pattern of trust, surrender, and persistence permeates all of Jesus’ prayers, giving us a clear model for our own.

Ultimately, prayer isn’t about getting what we want. It’s about becoming the kind of people God can use to bring about His kingdom. We pray not to change God’s mind, but to align ourselves with His heart.

Uncredited

The tension between Jesus and the Pharisees is unmistakable in John 7–8. While the Pharisees were preoccupied with protecting their reputation and holding onto their authority, Jesus consistently pointed back to the Father’s glory, not His own. He challenges them — and us — with a radical reorientation: working for the Kingdom requires humility and surrender. It’s not about seeking recognition or credit but about serving God’s greater purpose.

Jesus exemplified this throughout His ministry. Even when performing miracles, He often asked people to keep it quiet, showing that the work of the Kingdom wasn’t about personal fame. His focus remained on fulfilling His mission, regardless of whether He received public acknowledgment. In Luke 9, we see something similar when people who were eager to follow Him were held back by their personal concerns. Jesus’ response was direct: Kingdom work demands total commitment, not partial loyalty based on how much recognition we might get.

This teaching pushes against our modern desire for affirmation and recognition. Whether we serve in ministry, at work, or even in our personal lives, the temptation to crave acknowledgment can be subtle but real. The problem comes when our pursuit of credit eclipses the mission itself. If we work for applause rather than for God’s glory, we miss the essence of what it means to serve in the Kingdom.

Paul’s words to the Corinthians give clarity here: “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31). It’s a reminder that we’re not here to build our own reputation but to serve the One whose Kingdom is eternal. The challenge for each of us is to ask: Who am I serving, and why? Is my desire to be recognized greater than my desire to glorify God?

At the end of the day, there’s only room for one name on the marquee. Should it be yours or Jesus’?

When Faith Isn’t Enough

There’s a popular verse that says faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains (Matthew 17:20). So what happens when someone prays in faith—believing with all their heart for a miracle—only to find that their mountain doesn’t move? What do we say to the person who truly believes for healing, only to lose a loved one to cancer, or to watch their own health fail? When the Bible says “the prayer of a righteous person avails much” (James 5:16), how do we reconcile that with unanswered prayer?

For many Christians, these are heart-wrenching moments of crisis. Faith feels like it’s failed, but the reality is far more complex. Prayer, faith, and God’s purposes are not transactional but relational. And just because a specific answer doesn’t come doesn’t mean faith is irrelevant—it just means God’s plan is greater.

Jesus Himself dealt with this tension. In the Garden of Gethsemane, He prayed for the cup of suffering to be taken from Him (Matthew 26:39), but He also prayed for the Father’s will to be done above all. This shows us that faith is not about manipulating outcomes to fit our desires, but about trusting God’s greater will, even when it contradicts our hopes.

The crux of the issue is understanding that faith isn’t a guarantee for our specific desires but trust in God’s perfect plan. A Molinist perspective sees God’s sovereignty and human free will in harmony. God, in His infinite wisdom, knows all possible outcomes. He sees not just our immediate suffering but the eternal good that He is working through it. When we pray in faith, we are invited to participate in God’s will—not to command it.

Jesus performed countless miracles during His earthly ministry, but even He did not heal everyone or remove every obstacle His followers faced. The Apostle Paul pleaded three times for God to remove a thorn in his flesh, and God’s answer was “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Faith isn’t about always getting what we ask for—it’s about receiving God’s grace in all situations, trusting that His will is good.

So what do we say to the person whose prayer seems unanswered? We remind them that God’s will is ultimately for our eternal good, and that His plans reach far beyond what we can see or understand. The promise of the Gospel is not a comfortable, pain-free life, but the hope of eternal glory (Romans 8:18). In the meantime, God often uses suffering to deepen our faith, grow our character, and reveal His strength in our weakness.

Does faith play a determinative role in prayer? Yes, but only in concert with God’s will. Even the smallest faith is effective, not because of the size of our faith, but because of the size of our God. The mountains in our lives may not always move the way we expect, but the God who made the mountains is always with us.

Faith, ultimately, is trust—trust that God is good, even when the outcome is not what we hoped for. And in the end, for the Christian, death itself is not defeat but the final victory. Physical healing may not always come, but ultimate healing—eternal life with God—awaits all who trust in Him. Faith isn’t just for this life; it’s for the life to come.