Tag: Luke

Signs of the Times

In the Olivet Discourse, Jesus presents a sweeping vision of future events, but His primary focus is not the “when” of His return. Instead, He emphasizes how we should live as we wait. With each reference to “wars and rumors of wars” and natural upheavals, Jesus reminds His followers that these are “birth pains”—a hint of what’s to come, not an invitation to speculation or fear.

Jesus’ call is clear: live prepared and purposeful lives, grounded in faith and action, rather than chasing easy answers or living in anxiety. In Matthew 24:42, He warns, “Therefore, keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.” This watchfulness isn’t about decoding every event; rather, it’s about daily faithfulness to the work He has given us—the Great Commission.

Living with “signs of the times” in mind doesn’t mean abandoning our daily work or waiting passively. Jesus calls us to earnestness and perseverance, fully committed to the tasks at hand: sharing the gospel, serving our neighbors, and loving each other sacrificially. Each of these actions builds His Kingdom here on earth, a Kingdom that He promises will withstand any upheaval.

But faithful living also requires discernment. It’s tempting to become preoccupied with “answers” about the end times. Jesus knew this tendency, which is why He warned us against false messiahs and “false prophets” who “will deceive many” (Matthew 24:11). While we are to be wise and watchful, we shouldn’t let sensational claims distract us from Jesus’ clear command to “make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19).

If we believe Jesus will return—and He will—then our lives should reflect that hope. It’s a hope that compels us to action, to plant seeds of faith in others, and to nurture our relationship with God. We persevere not because we know the date of His return but because we trust His promise and see the urgency of the gospel.

So how do we wait well? We live ready, open to His call at any moment. We pursue His mission wholeheartedly, not distracted by every new “sign” but anchored in the lasting promise that He is coming. Each day, we choose to love, serve, and share the gospel with those around us, reflecting Jesus’ love in all we do. When we live with this kind of readiness, we not only await the return of our King, but we bring His Kingdom to life in the here and now.

The Height of Arrogance

In Matthew 21, Mark 12, and Luke 20, Jesus tells a powerful parable of a landowner who leases his vineyard to tenants. When harvest time comes, he sends servants to collect his share, but the tenants beat, stone, and kill each one. Finally, he sends his son, thinking they’ll surely respect him. Instead, they plot to kill the son too, hoping to seize his inheritance. Furious, the landowner ultimately judges these tenants, killing them and giving the vineyard to others who will honor him.

What’s shocking about this story isn’t just the violence—it’s the tenants’ absolute arrogance. These tenants are metaphorical for Israel’s leaders who repeatedly rejected God’s prophets, and finally, God’s Son. Their actions expose an entitlement to God’s blessings, assuming they could reject His ways yet still keep His favor.

Jesus’ parable confronts us, too. In what ways do we ignore or downplay the cost of grace? It’s easy to take God’s mercy for granted, to feel entitled to His patience, assuming His favor even when we resist Him. But God’s grace is not a license to disregard His voice. To persistently ignore Him and expect blessing shows a heart not yielded to God but steeped in pride.

This parable calls us to humility, to recognize that God’s mercy is not something we can demand or abuse. It’s an invitation to listen, repent, and align our hearts with His. Ultimately, God’s grace is abundantly generous, but it’s meant to transform us, not excuse us.

My Will Be Done, or Thy Will Be Done?

In John 12:37-50, we find Jesus quoting Isaiah 6:10, a passage where God says He will “blind their eyes and harden their hearts” so that they will not understand or turn to Him. On first glance, it sounds as though God is actively working to prevent people from believing. But as we dig deeper, a richer perspective emerges—one where human freedom and God’s sovereign plan are in a perfect, if mysterious, harmony.

I firmly believe all things happen under God’s design, but this doesn’t mean God coerces every choice or action. Instead, God knows every possible outcome—all the ways a free creature might respond in any given circumstance. He orchestrates the world in such a way that His purposes are fulfilled, but human choices are genuinely free. This view helps us understand Jesus’ reference to Isaiah. The passage wasn’t about God “forcing” people to resist belief. Rather, it was about His awareness of their hearts and how His message would be received given their predispositions.

See, in Isaiah, the people’s blindness wasn’t manufactured by God; it was the result of a longstanding resistance to His message. By the time Jesus was teaching, the religious leaders and many others had spent years ignoring God’s call to genuine worship and repentance. Jesus’ use of Isaiah’s words acknowledges that these people would continue to resist, not because God forced them to but because they chose to close their hearts. God’s sovereignty allowed Him to use even their resistance to further His plans.

We might think of it like this: God’s will is broad enough to encompass both the willing and the unwilling, the faithful and the resistant. When someone continually resists, God may allow them to experience the consequences of their choice, but that choice is theirs. It is this deep respect for freedom that underscores the entire message of Jesus in the Gospels. He offers salvation, but He doesn’t coerce it.

Jesus’ example shows us how divine sovereignty and human freedom work together. Every time we choose to follow Him, we participate in God’s grand design, bringing His purposes to fruition in the world. The key difference lies in whose will we are choosing to follow. Will it be our will, with all its limitations and potential missteps, or will it be His will, which is perfect and ultimately fulfilling?

The question, “My will be done, or Thy will be done?” is one we face every day. Like those who encountered Jesus, we each have the choice to turn toward God and align with His purposes, allowing Him to work through us. Though we’re free to choose otherwise, God’s invitation remains open—a gracious reminder that His will is always toward life, restoration, and purpose.

Nothing Wasted: Trusting God’s Purpose

It’s a bold statement when Jesus says, “The Lord needs it.” Just before His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, He asks His disciples to bring Him a colt. No lengthy explanations, no assurances for the colt’s owner — simply, “The Lord needs it.” To the owner, this colt may have been valuable or essential for work, but Jesus’ words demand a higher purpose for it. When something is needed for God’s purposes, no matter how mundane or precious, it’s never wasted.

Similarly, earlier in the Gospel accounts, we see Mary pouring costly perfume over Jesus’ head, a luxury that shocks the disciples as a “waste.” But Jesus defends her, framing her act as one of deep worship. “She has done a beautiful thing to me,” He says, indicating that her extravagant offering has profound meaning in God’s unfolding plan.

Our own lives often mirror these moments. We may be called to release what we value or find security in — our time, finances, talents — without clear assurances. Yet, when the Lord needs it, the act itself becomes sacred, filling it with purpose beyond our understanding. Just as Mary’s act became a testimony of love and faith, our sacrificial acts echo through God’s Kingdom in ways we may never fully see.

Trusting God’s purpose with our resources isn’t just about giving up; it’s about giving in to a greater story. Each offering, big or small, plays a role in something eternal. So when we’re prompted to step out in faith, remembering that “the Lord needs it” brings us into alignment with a purpose where, truly, nothing is wasted.

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.