A Garden and a Grave

 (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.

Blood, Sweat, and Wood: The Gospel in Three Simple Things

If you are like me, sometimes, while reading the Bible, something small and unexpected grabs your attention. It’s not what I was looking for—but it won’t let go of me. That’s how I recently stumbled into noticing three surprisingly ordinary things that appear again and again in Scripture:  blood, sweat, and wood.

Together, they sound like the stuff of hard labor or maybe the name of a 70s rock band. But in the story of God, these three—blood, sweat, and wood—are not just physical materials or signs of hardship. They are sacred symbols, woven throughout the Bible, revealing the depth of God’s love and the shape of our salvation.

Blood:  The Price of Forgiveness

Blood is a recurring theme in the Bible because it represents life—and the high cost of sin.

From the earliest chapters of Genesis, blood was tied to sacrifice. After Adam and Eve sinned, God clothed them with animal skins (Genesis 3:21)—implying the first death, the first shedding of blood, to cover their shame. Later, the entire system of worship in Israel was built around animal sacrifices, offered to atone for sin (Leviticus 17:11). 

The message was clear:  sin leads to death, and forgiveness requires life to be given.

But those sacrifices were never meant to be permanent. They pointed to something greater.

The New Testament tells us that “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness” (Hebrews 9:22). And yet it also proclaims something remarkable:  “But now he has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself” (Hebrews 9:26).

Jesus, the Lamb of God (John 1:29), shed His blood once—for all. His blood didn't just cover sin for a time—it cleansed it completely.

Sweat:  The Cost of Obedience

Sweat first appears in Scripture as a consequence of sin. In Genesis 3:19, God tells Adam, “By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food…”—a reminder that life in a fallen world would be marked by struggle, pain, and toil.

Sweat is the sign of effort—of real work and deep wrestling. That’s why it's so powerful to remember that Jesus Himself sweat in the moments before the cross.

In the garden of Gethsemane, as He prayed with intensity and anguish, Luke tells us: “his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground” (Luke 22:44). The weight of the world’s sin wasn’t just physical; it was emotional, spiritual, crushing. And still, Jesus surrendered to the will of the Father:  “Not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42).

Obedience, even for Jesus, came at a cost. And that reminds us: if you’re struggling to trust God or follow Him faithfully, you’re not alone. Jesus knows what it means to sweat under pressure, to pray in tears, to obey when it hurts. And He did it—for you.

Wood:  The Ordinary Made Holy

The Bible is full of meaningful symbols, but none are more unexpectedly sacred than wood.

God used wood to build Noah’s ark (Genesis 6:14), which became a vessel of salvation. He used Moses’ wooden staff to perform wonders, part the sea, and lead a nation (Exodus 4:2–4, Exodus 14:16). The Ark of the Covenant, built from acacia wood (Exodus 25:10), was the very place where God’s presence dwelled.

And ultimately, the cross—the most recognizable symbol of Christian faith—was made of two rough beams of wood. Not gold. Not stone. Just ordinary timber, splintered and stained.

That wood, lifted high on a hill, held the body of Jesus as He bore the weight of the world’s sin (1 Peter 2:24). What was once a symbol of torture became a symbol of triumph.

In God’s hands, even wood becomes holy.

An Extraordinary Message in Ordinary Things

Blood - Sweat - Wood - three simple, tangible things we might overlook in daily life. And yet, together, they carry the entire story of our salvation:

• Blood shows us the depth of God’s mercy.

• Sweat reveals the pain and perseverance of obedience.

• Wood becomes the altar where love and justice meet.

It’s no wonder that Jesus chose ordinary bread and wine—common elements—to represent His body and blood. He takes the simple and makes it sacred. He enters our world of blood, sweat, and wood—and redeems it with His love.

So the next time you come to the Lord’s table, or you find yourself sweating through a hard day, or you look at something plain and wooden—remember:  God is still in the business of transforming the ordinary into something eternal.

Christ and His Church: Getting the Order Right

When you hear the word "church," what comes to mind? A building? A group of people you’ve grown up around? A denomination? A social group with a religious focus? For many, the church is familiar. But in that familiarity, something vital can be lost—namely, what the church is, who established it, and why that matters deeply.

Let’s begin with a foundational truth:  Jesus Christ—not man—founded the church.

In Matthew 16:18, Jesus said to Peter, “...on this rock I will build My church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” That claim matters. He didn’t say, “I’ll inspire others to build a church,” or “You go ahead and build something for Me.” He said, “I will build My church.”

That means the church doesn’t belong to a preacher, a movement, a modern ideology, or even a faithful group of people—it belongs to Jesus. It exists for Him, through Him, and because of Him. It is the result of His sacrificial death and victorious resurrection.

And that’s why this conversation matters.

Because over time—even with sincere hearts—we can start talking and thinking about the church as if it were ours to shape, name, or redefine. But when we add to or take away from what Christ established, we are no longer “continuing in the apostles’ doctrine” (Acts 2:42)—we’ve stepped outside of it.

That’s not just a doctrinal problem. That’s a relational one. Because the church isn’t a human structure—it’s the body of Christ (Ephesians 1:22–23). To step away from what Jesus built is to step away from Him.

A Word About Names

There’s an important caution here, even in how we refer to ourselves. The Bible says the disciples were first called Christians in Antioch (Acts 11:26). That name means something:  it points to Christ as our center and identity.

When we start putting things before or after that name—like “Baptist Christian,” “Catholic Christian,” or even “Church of Christ Christian”—we may be unintentionally saying something that changes or even divides what was never meant to be split.

Language like this can create categories Jesus never made. It risks turning a living relationship with the Savior into a label for a religious party. We must be cautious, not because we’re trying to win arguments, but because we want to stay true to Christ.

The Church Isn’t Ours to Modify

Imagine someone giving you a priceless heirloom—a handmade, beautiful piece of craftsmanship—and saying, “This is yours to keep, but please don’t change it. It’s exactly as it should be.” Now imagine someone sanding it down, painting it, adding logos and decorations. Is it still the same piece?

That’s what can happen when we start shaping the church around our preferences. Jesus has already defined what the church is:

• It is His body (Colossians 1:18)

• It is made up of the saved (Acts 2:47)

• It worships in spirit and truth (John 4:24)

• It exists to glorify Christ, not itself (Ephesians 3:21)

If we add to it—new names, new doctrines, new organizational structures—then we’re not “adjusting” the church. We’re stepping into something separate from what Jesus established. That’s serious.

Unity Through Submission

The goal here isn’t to elevate “our group” or put others down. It’s to lift Christ up and return to the simplicity and beauty of what He built.

The early church didn’t have marketing strategies, denominational branches, or voting conferences. They had Christ. They had the gospel. They had the Scriptures. And that was enough.

Our unity is found not in wearing the same label, but in submitting to the same Lord. In following His pattern, not our preferences. In calling ourselves Christians—not because it Is tradition, but because it declares that we belong to Jesus.

So What Should We Do?

We examine everything by the standard of God’s Word. We ask:

• Are we following Christ as He leads the church—or are we following a tradition?

• Are we wearing His name alone—or one we’ve created?

• Are we part of His body—or have we built something else?

The good news is this:  Jesus still calls people to Himself. And those who come to Him in obedient faith—believing, repenting, confessing, and being baptized—are added to His church (Acts 2:38–47). Not by a committee, not by vote, but by the Lord Himself.

That’s the church we want to be part of. That’s the church that will last.

And that’s the one that still belongs to Christ.

When Obedience Is Hard - And Why It's Worthy It

Let’s be honest:  obedience is not always easy. Most of us, if we’re being real, can recall moments when we knew exactly what God wanted from us — and yet, something in us pushed back. Maybe we were tired. Maybe it was inconvenient. Maybe we were afraid of what others would think. Or maybe, we just didn’t want to do it.

If that’s ever been you, take a deep breath — you’re not alone. In fact, you’re in good company. Jesus Himself walked that same road. Hebrews 5:7–8 gives us a stunning glimpse into the heart of Jesus:  “...who, in the days of His flesh, when He had offered up prayers and supplications, with vehement cries and tears... was heard because of His godly fear, though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered.”

Just stop and think about that . . .  Jesus — the Son of God — learned obedience through suffering. Not because He was sinful, but because He was fully human. He understands the difficulty of obeying when it costs you something. That’s not just theological truth — that’s deeply comforting.

So what do we do when obedience feels hard? When it’s inconvenient, confusing, or even painful?

Let’s take a look at some of those moments — and discover why obedience, though difficult, is always worth it.

1. Obedience Is Hard When I’m Not “In the Mood”

There are days when we simply don’t feel like doing what’s right. Our emotions scream louder than our convictions. But God’s Word reminds us that faithfulness isn’t about feelings — it’s about devotion.

Paul told Timothy to be ready “in season and out of season” (2 Timothy 4:2). That means when it’s easy and when it’s hard, when we feel inspired and when we feel empty.

Love for God means showing up, even when we’re weary. As Mark 12:30 says: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.” Real love doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. It moves. It acts. It obeys. And often — maybe you’ve felt this too — when we choose to obey first, our emotions catch up. There’s peace on the other side of obedience.

2. Obedience Is Hard When It’s Not Convenient

With our world built on speed, comfort, and ease, obedience can feel like an interruption.

Felix, in Acts 24:25, listened to Paul talk about righteousness and judgment — but said, “Come back at a more convenient time.” That “better time” never came.

Convenience is a seductive idol. It whispers, “Later… when life slows down.” But Jesus said, “Seek first the kingdom of God” (Matthew 6:33). That doesn’t mean squeezing God into our leftovers — it means reordering our priorities entirely. Sometimes obedience disrupts your day. It pulls you off schedule. But that’s okay — the most important spiritual moments in our lives rarely come with a warning or fit neatly into a calendar slot.

3. Obedience Is Hard When I Don’t Understand

We like to know why. We want clarity, explanation, and logic before we take the next step. But faith isn’t built on full understanding — it’s built on trust.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord. (Isaiah 55:8)

Noah didn’t understand why he needed to build a boat in the middle of dry land. Abraham didn’t know where he was going when God told him to leave everything behind. And Jesus — in Gethsemane — cried out for another way. But still He said, “Not My will, but Yours be done.” (Matthew 26:39)

Obedience, especially when we don’t understand, is one of the deepest expressions of faith.

4. Obedience Is Hard When I’d Rather Do Something Else

Let’s be honest:  sometimes our desires just don’t align with God’s will. Our preferences get in the way. Proverbs 14:12 warns us:  “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.”

Naaman almost missed his healing because he didn’t like how God instructed him to be cleansed (2 Kings 5). His pride got in the way. And that’s often our struggle too — we want to obey, our way. But Jesus didn’t go to the cross because it was His preference. He went because it was obedience. He trusted that His Father’s way was best.

5. Obedience Is Hard When I Might Look Foolish

Sometimes we shrink back from obedience because we’re afraid of what people will think. What if they mock us? What if we lose respect? What if we seem weird or extreme? Even some of the Jewish leaders believed in Jesus, but wouldn’t confess Him. Why? “...because they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God.” (John 12:43)

That’s a powerful warning. When we let the fear of people outweigh our fear of God, we miss the chance to live courageously. 

Yes, standing for truth in a world of compromise might be awkward — even embarrassing. But it’s also beautiful. And Jesus said, “Whoever is ashamed of Me... of him the Son of Man also will be ashamed.” (Mark 8:38)

That’s not a threat — it’s a wake-up call to courage. Because true obedience isn’t ashamed to follow Christ, even when it’s unpopular.

So… What Do We Do When Obedience Is Hard?

We remember what’s at stake. We remember Who we’re following. Obedience might stretch us, cost us, and challenge us. But it also changes us. It shapes our hearts, grows our faith, and draws us closer to Christ.

Paul described the Christian life as a race — one that requires discipline, effort, and endurance (1 Corinthians 9:24–27). He didn’t run aimlessly. He trained with purpose — because he knew the prize was worth it.

And Jesus? He showed us the ultimate picture of obedience. “…who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross…” (Hebrews 12:2). He endured — and He was exalted.

Obedience is rarely easy. But it always leads to joy, as Proverbs 13:15 says, “The way of the unfaithful is hard.”

Jesus invites us into something better: “Come to Me… and I will give you rest… For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28–30)

Obedience may be hard in the moment. But it leads to peace, purpose, and life.

So when it’s hard… obey anyway. – When you’re tired… obey anyway. – When it doesn’t make sense… obey anyway.

Because God is faithful. And He never asks you to walk where He hasn’t already gone.

Obedience may be costly — but it is always, always worth it.