Tag: Mark

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.

The Rock and the Stumbling Block: Lessons from Peter’s Journey

In Matthew 16:13-23, we see one of the most remarkable shifts in a disciple’s relationship with Jesus. It begins with Simon Peter’s stunning confession that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God. Jesus blesses Peter and renames him: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (v.18). But just moments later, Peter rebukes Jesus for predicting His suffering and death, and Jesus responds with one of the harshest rebukes in Scripture: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns” (v.23).

How do we reconcile these two events? How can Peter, in one moment, be called the foundation of the future church, and in the next, be likened to Satan? These contrasting scenes reveal deep truths about Peter’s journey and the tension in our own Christian lives.

When Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah, he is making a profound statement that demonstrates divine revelation. Jesus emphasizes this by saying, “flesh and blood did not reveal this to you, but my Father who is in heaven” (v.17). The name change from Simon to Peter (meaning “rock”) symbolizes stability and strength, qualities that will eventually characterize Peter’s leadership in the early church. Jesus’ promise to build His church on Peter is not simply about the man, but about the confession of faith that Peter makes—that Jesus is the Christ.

This moment is a picture of how God often works in our lives: He reveals truths to us and calls us to things we cannot fully grasp in the moment. Peter’s new name is a sign of the leadership role he will grow into, but it doesn’t mean he is fully formed or without weakness. This is crucial for understanding what follows.

Right after Jesus tells the disciples that He must suffer and die, Peter—likely filled with fear and confusion—takes Him aside and rebukes Him: “Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!” (v.22). Peter’s reaction, while emotionally understandable, is a rejection of Jesus’ mission. He cannot reconcile the idea of a suffering Messiah with his expectations of a victorious one. But by opposing Jesus’ path to the cross, Peter is unknowingly aligning himself with the same temptation Jesus faced in the wilderness—one that would have Him avoid suffering and take a shortcut to glory.

Jesus’ rebuke of Peter, “Get behind me, Satan!” is not a dismissal of Peter as His disciple but a sharp reminder of the danger of thinking from a purely human perspective. Jesus had just called Peter a “rock,” but in this moment, Peter becomes a “stumbling block.” The Greek word here, skandalon, refers to something that causes someone to trip. Peter, in his attempt to protect Jesus from suffering, becomes an obstacle to God’s plan of salvation.

Peter’s journey in this passage reflects the Christian experience in many ways. First, like Peter, we often receive divine revelation about who Jesus is and what He calls us to, but we may not fully understand the cost or the process. Peter wanted the glory of the Kingdom without the suffering of the cross. How often do we desire the benefits of following Jesus without embracing the hardships or sacrifices?

Second, Peter’s misstep shows us that it’s possible to be both called by God and still get things wrong. Jesus didn’t retract His promise to build the church on Peter after the rebuke. This is an important reminder: even when we fail, God’s calling on our lives remains. Jesus didn’t discard Peter for his misunderstanding; instead, He corrected him and continued to disciple him.

Finally, this passage teaches us that following Jesus means having “in mind the concerns of God, not human concerns” (v.23). It’s easy to be like Peter, to try to fit God’s plans into our limited perspective. But discipleship requires us to trust Jesus’ wisdom, even when it doesn’t align with our expectations. Peter thought he was helping Jesus by telling Him to avoid suffering, but in reality, he was working against God’s redemptive plan. Similarly, we might resist hardship in our own lives, not realizing that God often uses trials to shape us and accomplish His purposes.

Just as Peter had to learn that God’s ways are not his ways, we, too, must submit to Jesus’ lead, even when it takes us to uncomfortable or difficult places. The “rock” Peter would become was formed through a process of refinement, a journey of stumbling and restoration that mirrors the Christian walk.

Why Isn’t God More Obvious?

It’s a question that people have asked for centuries: If God exists, why isn’t He more obvious? We long for unmistakable signs—something dramatic to shake us out of doubt or unbelief. But this very demand for a sign is addressed by Jesus Himself in both Mark 8:11-13 and Matthew 16:1-4. When the Pharisees approached Jesus, demanding a sign from heaven to prove who He was, His response was blunt: “No sign will be given to you except the sign of Jonah.” Essentially, Jesus was saying that if they couldn’t see what was already in front of them, no further proof would change their minds.

Why, then, does Jesus reject the Pharisees’ request for a sign, and what does that say about us today? First, we have to understand that the Pharisees weren’t looking for evidence out of an earnest desire to believe. They had already seen countless miracles—healings, exorcisms, and even resurrections—but refused to acknowledge the significance of what was happening. The request for a sign wasn’t about seeking truth; it was a way to test or trap Jesus, hoping to discredit Him. Their hearts were hardened, and even the clearest revelation wouldn’t have softened them.

Jesus’ response was not an unwillingness to demonstrate His power but rather a statement that God’s work cannot be reduced to spectacle. He had already shown them who He was through His life and ministry, and yet they remained blind. This is why the “sign of Jonah”—a reference to His future resurrection—was the ultimate sign they would receive. If they couldn’t see the truth in His words and works, not even the resurrection would open their eyes.

This speaks directly to the question of why God isn’t more obvious. In many ways, He is obvious. The beauty and order of creation, the intricacy of the human conscience, the life and death of Jesus, and the power of Scripture are all profound revelations of God. But like the Pharisees, many of us demand something more, not because we lack evidence, but because we struggle with the implications of surrendering to that evidence. The desire for a more “obvious” God often stems from a reluctance to submit to Him.

The issue, then, is not God’s hiddenness but our willingness to see Him. We may claim to seek clarity, but the deeper question is whether we truly want to find Him. As Jesus said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5:8).

In a world filled with distractions, it’s easy to look past the everyday ways that God reveals Himself. We may not get the signs we think we need, but we have something better: the life of Christ, the testimony of Scripture, and the witness of transformed lives.

So, why isn’t God more obvious? Perhaps the better question is: Are we willing to see Him as He has revealed Himself? If we continually ask for more signs without acting on what we’ve already been given, we’re not so different from the Pharisees. And just as Jesus called them to repentance, He calls us to trust what has already been shown—the cross, the resurrection, and His ongoing work in the world.

Lip Service or Heart Change? Jesus’ Warning to the Religious

In Matthew 15:1-20 and Mark 7:1-23, Jesus confronts the religious leaders of His day about a dangerous tendency: the elevation of tradition over God’s Word. The Pharisees, known for their outward righteousness and strict adherence to religious customs, were scandalized by Jesus’ disciples eating without performing the ceremonial washing of hands. This wasn’t about hygiene; it was about adhering to centuries-old rituals. But Jesus saw through their pretense, and His response was direct: “You nullify the word of God for the sake of your tradition” (Matthew 15:6).

This conflict between tradition and Scripture is not unique to the Pharisees. It’s easy to fall into a routine of religion—of doing things simply because they’ve always been done that way. Even well-meaning Christians can get caught up in traditions, whether it’s how church services are run, what worship styles are “acceptable,” or even what particular language we use in prayer. There’s comfort in the familiar, but when the familiar takes priority over the truth of God’s Word, we’ve crossed a dangerous line.

Jesus rebukes the religious leaders for honoring God with their lips, but having hearts far from Him (Matthew 15:8). This kind of empty, outward obedience is worse than worthless—it leads people further from the truth. We see this today when traditions or legalistic practices become more important than the Gospel itself, creating a spiritual environment where rules are followed but relationships with God remain shallow. In such cases, faith becomes about what people see, not about true heart change.

The real issue is not tradition itself. Traditions can be helpful, meaningful, and God-honoring. The danger comes when we rely on these traditions as our guide instead of Scripture. We must continually ask ourselves whether our practices, habits, and routines are helping us grow closer to God—or are they simply comfortable patterns that make us feel righteous without actually engaging with Him?

The antidote to this religious drift is found in allowing Scripture to continually refine and direct us. As Jesus explains in the passage, it is not the outward actions that defile a person, but the state of the heart (Mark 7:20-23). True worship, as Jesus teaches, is not about rigidly following traditions but about an inward transformation that leads to a pure heart.

Are there areas in your life where tradition has replaced true devotion to God? Ask God to reveal where you might be following rules or practices without true heart change. Let His Word—living and active—continue to shape you from the inside out. Tradition isn’t inherently bad, but it should never replace the transformative power of Scripture.

The Need is the Call

In Mark 6:30-44, Jesus seeks to withdraw with His disciples to a quiet place for rest after their ministry efforts. However, the crowds follow them, and instead of prioritizing the disciples’ need for rest, Jesus is moved with compassion for the people, describing them as “sheep without a shepherd.” He then goes on to feed over 5,000 people.

This passage highlights a tension between personal needs and the needs of others. Jesus recognizes the importance of rest, yet when faced with the physical and spiritual hunger of the crowd, He doesn’t turn them away. He places the needs of the people first, showing that sometimes the call to serve comes when it’s least convenient or expected. His response exemplifies sacrificial service — giving up personal comfort to fulfill the will of the Father.

For us, this example speaks to the reality that the need around us often becomes the call. We might have plans for rest, personal growth, or self-care, but there are moments when the needs of others require immediate attention. Whether it’s an unexpected phone call from someone in need, an interruption in our day, or a last-minute opportunity to serve, Jesus’ response shows us the heart of true servanthood.

However, it’s also important to note that Jesus didn’t neglect rest entirely. Throughout His ministry, He made space for solitude and time with the Father. While the passage emphasizes serving others, it doesn’t negate the necessity of personal rest and renewal. It suggests that discerning when to serve and when to rest is part of following Jesus.

Ultimately, this passage teaches us that true discipleship often involves putting others first. When we see a need, we may be called to step into it, trusting God to multiply our efforts, just as He multiplied the loaves and fish. Like Jesus, we are invited to serve with compassion, even when it costs us something.

The Awe of God

In Matthew 13:53-58, Mark 6:1-13, and Luke 9:1-6, Jesus returns to Nazareth, His hometown, where His ability to perform miracles is limited by the people’s lack of faith. They had grown up with Him and, in their familiarity, couldn’t see beyond the carpenter’s son to recognize the Messiah standing before them. Familiarity had dulled their vision of who Jesus truly was.

This moment reveals how easily something powerful, like our relationship with God, can become routine or lose its significance when we grow too familiar. Just as repeating a word over and over causes it to lose its meaning, we risk losing the wonder and awe of God when our faith becomes mechanical. Jesus’ work was hindered in Nazareth because people had stopped seeing Him as extraordinary.

The challenge for us is similar: have we allowed our relationship with God to become too familiar? Have the powerful truths of His Word and presence become things we merely expect or overlook? Faith isn’t just knowing about God—it’s seeing Him afresh each day, in awe of His greatness.

Jesus said the Kingdom belongs to those with childlike faith, a faith that’s humble, curious, and awestruck. If we find ourselves limiting God because we’ve “heard it all before,” we need to ask Him to reignite that sense of awe, reminding us of His love, His power, and His majesty.