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As Jesus leaves Jericho on His way to Jerusalem, two blind men sitting by the road hear He is passing by and cry out, “Have mercy on us, O Lord, Son of David!” The crowd tells them to be quiet, and they cry out all the more. In this message we look at three kinds of desperation in the story. The crowd was desperate for its own agenda and let the urgent crowd out what mattered most. The blind men were desperate to get to Jesus and would not be silenced. And Jesus Himself stopped on the road, called them over, and asked, “What do you want Me to do for you?” He came to bring healing and reconciliation, and He is still stopping for those who call on Him.
Most of us have been taught our whole lives that greatness means coming in first, getting noticed, and being served. In Matthew 20:17-28, Jesus walks toward Jerusalem knowing He will be mocked, flogged, and crucified, while James and John ask for the seats at His right and His left. We look at the cup they said they could drink, who actually ended up at His right and left on the day He was crowned, and what it looks like for His people to serve one another without keeping score. The Son of Man from Daniel 7, the One every nation should serve, chose a different kind of greatness: “even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28)
Most of us try to love the Father and the world at the same time, usually because we haven’t yet tasted how deep His love goes. In 1 John 2:15-17, we go back six hundred years to Jeremiah 2:13, where God charges His people with two evils: they forsook Him, the fountain of living waters, and dug their own cisterns, broken ones that can hold no water. Judah never stopped worshiping God. They just added Baal and foreign alliances alongside Him. We look at the cisterns we still dig today and the woman at the well who left her water jar behind. The world is passing away, and the Father is still offering Himself to anyone who comes and drinks.
Peter thought he was being generous. Seven times. More than double the rabbinic standard. Jesus’s answer blew the question apart. Seventy times seven. Stop counting. In Matthew 18:21-35, we walk through the parable of the unforgiving servant, where a man forgiven zillions refuses to release a hundred denarii. We press on what forgiveness is and what it is not, and we land on the Christ who felt the full weight of what He forgave and paid the debt anyway. Because the heart that has truly received the gospel cannot refuse to extend it.
Church discipline, confrontation, excommunication. These are words most of us would rather not hear from the pulpit. But they come straight from Jesus in Matthew 18:15-20, wrapped in love, not harshness.
This week we press into what it actually means for the church to pursue a brother or sister caught in sin. We lean on Chrysostom and Augustine, we draw the line between sin and personal preference, and we land on the promise that when the church does this hard reconciling work, Christ Himself has promised to be present. Because the church that confronts does the very ministry of the Reconciler, and in doing so, we are conformed to His image.
A fire tended only for its own warmth eventually goes out. A fire carried outward keeps burning because it has purpose. This week we close the Keep the Fire Burning series with 2 Corinthians 5:17-21 and Matthew 5:14-16. God has not just reconciled us to Himself. He has entrusted us with the ministry of reconciliation. Every conversation with a neighbor about Jesus, every prayer for a coworker, every moment we choose to name Christ instead of staying silent is another piece of wood on the altar. The fire is meant to be seen. And we are the ones commissioned to carry it into the darkness.
Most Christians who struggle with community are asking horizontal relationships to do vertical work. They are hungry for what only God can give and have been asking a spouse, a friend, or a small group to be their ultimate source. And when the horizontal cannot deliver, the relationships collapse under a weight they were never meant to carry.
This week we press into authentic community as the overflow of a healthy vertical, not a substitute for it. Because when your relationship with God is right, the horizontal overflows into shared life, open homes, thick skin toward offense, and a love the world will recognize as the mark of Christ.
Not all fire is God's fire. This week we press into biblical literacy as the fuel that keeps our fire authentic. Jesus met the wilderness with the Word. The Bereans tested even an apostle against the Scriptures. And every one of us is invited to pursue the One the whole Book is about. Because reading the Bible is not about knowing a Book. It is about knowing a Person.
The fire on the altar was never something the people manufactured. God brought it. Their job was to keep it burning by bringing wood. This week we press into the intimate pursuit of the Holy Spirit and the two ditches that swallow most churches on this value.
The Spirit is not just God's presence with us. He is God's power in us. Without Him, the Christian life is impossible. With Him, we bear fruit we could never produce on our own.
John writes so that we won't sin, but he doesn't leave us without hope when we do. Jesus is our Advocate before the Father, and He Himself is the atoning sacrifice for our sins. In this passage, John shows us what it actually looks like to know Him: obedience to His commands and love for the people around us. The command to love isn't new, but it takes on new weight in the light of Christ. Anyone who claims to walk in the light while hating a brother or sister is still in the dark.
From the publisher's feed
Sermons from Maranatha Gatherings.