Tag: Matthew

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.

Nothing to Lose: Building a Life of Sacrificial Trust

When Jesus watched the widow place two small coins in the temple treasury, He remarked that her offering was worth more than all the others. The wealthy were giving large sums, but it came from their abundance—they had enough left over that they wouldn’t miss what they gave. But this widow gave everything she had. Her gift, though small, was massive in its cost, and Jesus highlighted that her offering embodied true sacrificial trust.

This story challenges us to rethink how we give to God—not just financially but in every area of life. For those with financial security, giving can often become another line item, a “good thing” we do rather than an act that deeply stretches our faith. Sacrificial trust requires us to look beyond what is convenient or comfortable, pushing us to rely on God in ways that make us uncomfortable. So, if giving money isn’t stretching us, what can?

Building Trust in Practical Ways

To grow in sacrificial trust, we need to commit ourselves to practices that move us beyond our self-sufficiency and put us in a position where we need God to provide, guide, or sustain us. Here are some ways we can start intentionally cultivating this reliance on Him:

Prioritize Time for Service
Time is precious, and offering it to serve others can be one of the most challenging sacrifices. When we serve regularly—especially when it’s inconvenient—we learn to depend on God to supply energy, focus, and purpose. By giving time to those in need, we place our trust in God to help us manage the demands of life as we prioritize His kingdom.
Hospitality That Costs Something
Hospitality often involves more than opening our homes; it includes opening our hearts and schedules to others. Offering a place of rest or fellowship to those in need can stretch us emotionally and financially. This practice forces us to rely on God to provide and meet our needs, fostering a lifestyle of generosity and trust.
Making Faith-based Decisions with Career and Finances
When we choose to pursue purpose over profit or to fund ministries instead of saving excessively for ourselves, we enter a space where we rely on God to secure our future. Trusting Him with our careers or resources isn’t easy, but it’s a powerful exercise in dependence.
Practicing Fasting and Extended Prayer
Setting aside time to fast and pray helps us depend on God’s sustenance, both physically and spiritually. This intentional discipline can become a powerful act of faith, where we trust that God will meet our needs as we draw closer to Him.
Volunteering Professional Skills for Kingdom Purposes
Giving up paid time to volunteer our expertise requires both faith and sacrifice. Whether in a church, a nonprofit, or even informally, using skills for ministry without pay can challenge our dependence on material rewards and make us more reliant on God’s provision.
Seeking Forgiveness and Reconciliation
Taking steps toward reconciliation in our relationships often requires vulnerability and trust in God’s healing power. By putting ourselves in situations where we risk being hurt or rejected, we learn to trust God’s ability to heal and restore.
Surrendering Control Over Our Plans
Holding our ambitions, plans, and future loosely opens us to God’s leading. When we ask Him to show us what He wants for us, we must trust that His plans are ultimately better, even if it means giving up control or comfort.

The widow’s act of faith shows us that true giving costs us something. Sacrificial trust isn’t about the amount or kind of gift we give; it’s about our willingness to let go of our self-reliance and place ourselves fully in God’s hands. As we practice faith in new areas of life, we move beyond mere convenience to genuine, transformative trust.

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.

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.