- They heard the message (Romans 10:17). They believed it (Mark 16:16; Acts 8:12).
- They repented (Acts 2:38; 17:30).
- They confessed Jesus as Lord (Romans 10:9–10; Acts 8:37).
- They were baptized into Christ (Acts 2:38; 8:36–38; 22:16; Galatians 3:27).
When Jesus’ disciples argued about who among them was the greatest, He didn’t scold or berate them for wanting to be great—He simply redefined what greatness looks like. He said, “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all.” Then He pointed to Himself: “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
That’s not how greatness works in the world. In business, in politics, or even in our social lives, greatness usually means getting noticed, getting ahead, or getting our way. But Jesus flips that kind of thinking upside down. In His Kingdom, greatness isn’t measured by how many people serve you—it’s measured by how many people you serve.
In short, greatness wears an apron, not a crown.
Then there’s another paradox of Jesus that sounds backwards to our ears: “Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for my sake will save it.”
It’s not that Jesus wants us to live recklessly; He’s showing us that the more we try to hold on to control, the more we actually lose the very thing we’re trying to preserve. The monkey in the gourd had a clear goal—keep the prize. But what it held on to became the reason it couldn’t escape.
We often fall into the same trap. We hold on to our plans, our possessions, or our pride, thinking they’ll keep us safe. But in the end—they just keep us stuck. Jesus invites us to release our grip—to trust that real life begins when we let go of the illusion of control and hand our lives over to Him.
It’s a strange kind of math: subtraction becomes addition, loss becomes gain, and surrender becomes freedom.
That’s the logic of the Kingdom.
3. Blessed Are the Least - Matthew 5:1–12
And then, just when we think we’ve figured Him out, Jesus steps up on a hillside and says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit… blessed are those who mourn… blessed are the meek… blessed are those who are persecuted.”
Now, that’s not how we have used the word “blessed.” The world says, “Blessed are the rich, the confident, the successful, the comfortable.” But Jesus looks at the humble, the grieving, and the overlooked and says, “You’re the ones who are truly blessed, because the Kingdom belongs to you.”
He wasn’t offering a list of religious virtues to add to our list of things to work on; instead, He was painting a picture of a new kind of life—a life rooted not in achievement, but in dependence on God. In reality, the Beatitudes are less about climbing ladders and more about stepping down into the kind of humility that makes room for grace.
So, in Jesus’ world, the least become the most loved, and those who seem to have nothing discover they already have everything.
Turning Life Right Side Up
From beginning to end, Jesus’ Kingdom seems upside down to us—until we realize it’s actually right side up and we’re the ones who have been living upside down all along.
The world tells us to take—Jesus says to give. The world tells us to lead—Jesus says to serve. The world says hold on tight—Jesus says let go. The world says self-preservation—Jesus says self-sacrifice.
And maybe that’s why following Jesus feels hard to us sometimes—it’s not just about changing our behavior, it’s about changing our complete direction. It means loosening our grip on the things that trap us and trusting that God’s way, as backward as it seems at the moment, is the only way that truly leads us forward.
So the next time you feel stuck, like you can’t quite move forward in faith, stop and ask: “What am I still holding onto?” It might just be your gourd moment—the thing Jesus is waiting for you to let go of so you can finally be free.
After all, the monkey never had to be trapped. He just had to open his hand.
When you think about worship, what comes to mind? For some, it’s the sound of a choir, the swell of an organ, or the strum of a guitar. For others, it’s the simple, unaccompanied voices of Christians singing together. But instead of asking, “What do I prefer?” or “What sounds good to me?”—the better question is: “What does God want?”
That question takes us straight to Ephesians 5:19, where Paul writes: “Speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.”
This one verse says a lot about God’s desire for worship, and if we take it seriously, it challenges us to think deeply about how we praise Him.
If we add in what Paul wrote in Colossians 3:16, “Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts”, the emphasis becomes even clearer: New Testament worship is built upon words, shared in song, flowing from hearts filled with Christ.
Notice Paul doesn’t say “play” or “strum.” He says “sing.” The Greek word used here (ado) means just that—to sing with the voice. This is not an accident, nor is it vague. God chose His words carefully. When He wanted instrumental music in the Old Testament temple, He told the Levites to play (2 Chronicles 29:25). But when He described Christian worship under the new covenant, He told us to sing.
If I invite you to dinner and say, “Please bring dessert,” I don’t mean for you to also bring a pot roast and a bag of chips. I specified dessert. In the same way, when God specifies singing, that is what He expects.
Paul doesn’t stop there. He adds: “making melody in your heart to the Lord.”
The Greek word psallō once referred to plucking strings, but by Paul’s time it had shifted in meaning—it meant “to sing praise.” To make sure there was no confusion, Paul points out the instrument: the heart.
This is beautiful. God doesn’t want the twang of a string or the beat of a drum—He wants the melody of a heart devoted to Him. Anyone can make noise on an instrument, but only a surrendered heart can make music that pleases God.
Now here’s the part that pushes against modern thinking: worship is not about our preferences. We live in a world where people shop for churches the way they shop for shoes—looking for what feels comfortable, stylish, or entertaining. But worship is not about what entertains me; it’s about what honors God.
Think about it. If Noah had decided to build the ark out of oak or cedar instead of gopher wood, would God have been pleased? No—because God specified. In the same way, God has specified singing. Adding instruments may feel natural to us, but if He didn’t ask for it, is it really worship to Him?
Jesus put it plainly: “God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:24). Worship in truth means worship on God’s terms, not ours.
History backs this up. For the first several centuries after Christ, Christians sang without instruments. Clement of Alexandria (around 200 A.D.) warned against instruments, saying they belonged to pagan feasts, not Christian worship. Augustine said the true instrument of worship is the heart. Even the word “a cappella” literally means “in the style of the church.”
So, not only does the New Testament leave instruments out, but the early Christians understood it that way too.
Some might say, “But instruments make worship richer!” Maybe they sound beautiful to us—but worship isn’t about pleasing us. It’s about pleasing God. If we love Him, shouldn’t we want to give Him what He asked for, not what we think He might enjoy?
Think of it like a gift. If your spouse asks for something simple and heartfelt, but you insist on giving them something flashy and expensive instead, who are you really thinking about—you or them? Worship works the same way. The question isn’t, “Do I like it?” but “Does God want it?”
Ephesians 5:19 paints a clear picture: God wants His people to lift their voices in song, making melody in their hearts. This is worship that is personal, spiritual, and God-centered.
When we obey Him in this, we’re not missing out—we’re actually stepping into the purest form of praise, the kind the apostles knew, the kind the early church practiced, the kind God desires.
So, the next time you lift your voice in worship, remember: you are holding the only instrument God ever asked for—the heart. Play it well, and God will be pleased.
Faith is not always easy. Some of us think of it as more of a “ticket to heaven” than a daily walk with Christ. When we see Jesus only as Savior, our faith can turn passive—we’re grateful for His forgiveness but we resist any real change in our lives. James warns us not to deceive ourselves by merely hearing the word without doing something with it (James 1:22).
Others of us wrestle with trust. God’s timing often doesn’t match ours, and we often get impatient. We are tempted to cut corners or compromise our values. Abraham and Sarah’s attempt to “help” God fulfill His promise by having a child through Hagar (Genesis 16) shows how rushing ahead of God can bring us a lot of heartache.
And then there is the challenge of distraction. Pursuing more money, a better career, and more recognition can subtly replace our devotion to God. Jesus warned, “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?” (Mark 8:36). If we fix our eyes only on worldly success, our faith may quietly slide into the background. Then, over time, without prayer, Scripture, or Christian community, we may drift into spiritual stagnation—still professing faith but experiencing very little transformation.
But in reality, countless people do find a way to hold faith and success at the same time. The difference lies in their seeing Jesus not only as their Savior but also as their Lord. That subtle, but significant shift brings a new perspective: their success isn’t just measured in promotions, possessions, or popularity—they measure it in faithfulness.
People who thrive spiritually and even professionally often share certain habits:
Obedience – They apply biblical principles such as honesty, humility, and diligence. Daniel, for instance, refused to defile himself with the king’s food (Daniel 1:8). His obedience not only honored God but also set him apart because of his wisdom and trustworthiness.
Trust in God’s Timing – Joseph’s life is a powerful example. Though he spent years in slavery and prison, he remained faithful, and in God’s perfect timing Joseph rose to second-in-command in all of Egypt (Genesis 41).
Faith and Work Together – Nehemiah prayed earnestly for Jerusalem, but he also rolled up his sleeves and rebuilt the walls (Nehemiah 4:6). His success came through both his faith and his action.
Service to Others – True success is really not just personal gain but it comes from lifting others up. Jesus said, “The greatest among you will be your servant” (Matthew 23:11). Think of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37). His success was not defined by his status but by his compassion.
Resilience in Trials – Paul faced many beatings, shipwrecks, and imprisonment, yet he wrote, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13). His strength was not in circumstances but in Christ.
In the end, Jesus as Savior gives us peace with God; Jesus as Lord gives us purpose in life. When we hold both together, our faith becomes active, growing, and life-shaping. Worldly success may come and go, but the one who follows Jesus as both Lord and Savior finds something much deeper and better—joy, meaning, and eternal hope.
It’s a bit like building a house. If Jesus is only our Savior, we may have the foundation—but if He is also our Lord, then the house is built, furnished, and we can live in it. We don’t just escape destruction; we experience abundant life (John 10:10).
So, the real question is not only, “Do I believe Jesus saved me?” but also, “Am I willing to let Him lead me?” When we are able to do both, we discover that the truest success is not found in what we build for ourselves but in who we become in Him.
(A Communion Table Talk)
This morning, I want to take you to two places that hold deep meaning in the story of our salvation: a garden . . . and a grave.
The two don’t seem like they go together. A garden is where things grow. A grave is where things end. But in the story of Jesus, they’re both central — and they both tell the truth of the gospel.
The Garden
Let’s begin in the garden.
In Luke 22:39–44, we find Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. It's night. The cross is just hours away. And the weight of the world — literally — is pressing down on Him.
Luke tells us: “Being in anguish, He prayed more earnestly, and His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.” (v. 44)
This was no peaceful stroll. This garden was not blooming with roses — it was heavy with the cost of our redemption. In that moment, Jesus wrestled with the terrifying reality of the cross.
And what does He pray? “Father, if You are willing, take this cup from Me. Yet not My will, but Yours be done.” (v. 42)
That’s where salvation began for us — not at the cross, but here — in a garden — where the Son of God said “yes” to the will of the Father.
Jesus didn’t just die for us — He chose to die for us.
The Grave
Then came the grave.
John 19 tells us that after the mock trial, the crown of thorns, the cross, and the final cry, “It is finished” — Jesus’ body was taken down, wrapped in linen, and laid in a tomb.
A borrowed grave — Cold — Sealed with a stone.
From the outside, it looked like the end. But from heaven’s view — it was the planting of a seed.
Jesus had said in John 12:24: “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”
Jesus was that seed. The grave was not defeat. It was the doorway to resurrection.
In that tomb, the Author of Life rewrote the story of death.
The Table
So here we are, gathered around this table — surrounded by reminders:
The bread — His body
The cup — His blood.
Each symbol calls us to remember what happened in that garden . . . and what happened in that grave.
In the garden — Jesus gave His will.
In the grave — He gave His life.
And because of both — we are given hope.
Romans 5:8 says: “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
So today, as we take this bread and cup…
Look back to the garden — where love surrendered.
Look back to the cross — where love suffered.
Look back to the grave — where love was buried — and from which it rose again.
And then — look forward.
Because Jesus didn’t just rise — He promised to return.
1 Corinthians 11:26 reminds us that every time we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim His death until He comes.
Let’s use this moment to take in . . .
The garden,
the grave,
and the glory of the One who walked through both — for us.