He is Worthy: Matchless Authority, Part 1 (Luke 7:1–10) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Lord, Lord (Luke 6:46–49) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

It’s easy to claim to be a Christian. I cannot remember a time that I would not have claimed to be Christian. Yet for many years that claim proved empty.

In the U.S., we don’t have our religious identity typed onto our driver’s license or passport, as practiced in some countries. No one bars us from buying a house or accepting a job or voting in an election or marrying a particular person due to our religious identity.

But that’s not true for much of the world. Your religious claim either gives you freedom as a citizen or keeps you looking over your shoulder. Your religious profession allows you to participate in the rights of citizenship or blocks you from equal participation.

So that’s why I say, that for us it’s easy to make the claim that we’re Christians. That’s why so many do.

Yet the claim doesn’t mean that we truly follow Christ. The claim does not equate to kingdom citizenship.

We know these things. We’ve heard them over and over. But that doesn’t mean that we may not have fallen prey to empty profession of Christ. Or it doesn’t mean that we may not have slipped into a false understanding of biblical Christianity and the kind of kingdom life that the gospel calls us to.

That’s what Jesus makes clear in this Sermon on the Plain (Luke 6:17–49). The crowds thronged about him, having “come to hear Him and to be healed of their diseases.” They squeezed in “trying to touch Him.” Hearing, being blessed by Him, and touching Him didn’t imply that the multitude followed Him as disciples. Kingdom disciples means, as Jesus taught, finding our joy in Him, loving extravagantly in ways the world can’t grasp, and living generously with pardon and genuine care for others. But all of those characteristics are the fruit of relationship to Christ. Many professed Him. Yet not all belonged to Jesus as disciples in His kingdom. Obedience to Jesus, in the end, gives testimony to being kingdom disciples. How is that the case? Let’s investigate how Jesus drives home obedience as the marker for His followers.

1. Jesus examines profession without obedience

We must admit that Jesus calling attention to false profession of faith is an act of mercy. We’re prone to self-deception. We find that all the way back in the Garden when Adam and Eve took the fruit and ate of it, thinking that by doing so they would be “like God.” He does want us to be like Him in that we’re to mirror Him as our Creator and Sovereign. But that cannot happen on our terms or by our assumptions. It can only happen through the means that He provides in Christ.

Sometimes the biblical writers use a literary device known as inclusio, which means that they start with one term or idea, continue their argument, discussion, or description, and then return to the same term or idea. It’s sort of like matching bookends. That seems to be Luke’s approach as he explains the Sermon on the Plain. It begins with throngs of people coming to hear Jesus (vv. 17–18). But hearing is never enough. That’s why Jesus explains to us what it looks like to not just hear Him but to truly believe and follow Him (vv. 20–45). Then as He closes His sermon Jesus returns to the matter of hearing Him (vv. 46­–49). The crowds were glad to hear Jesus, especially if they received some tangible benefit. But as a rule, they balked at obeying Him. Jesus explains that such a heart-attitude falls short of true faith and truly following Him.

We must realize that many of these people were excited about Jesus. Enthusiasm followed healing and deliverance from demons. They gladly came to hear Him and receive from Him. They talked about what they heard and saw. They even used spiritual titles for Him, calling Him “Lord.” But Jesus’ question examines their profession of Him. “[But] why do you call Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?”

J. C. Ryle remarked, “Open sin, and avowed unbelief, no doubt slay their thousands. But professions without practice[...]

The Life of a Disciple (Luke 6:37–45) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

At various periods Christianity has gained popularity with the masses to the point that people find it welcoming to call themselves Christians. I’ve witnessed this in high school, in college, and in a few stages of pastoral ministry. A Christian song catches on, a famous preacher gains a hearing, celebrities make professions of Christ, a Christian book or movie gets celebrated, and before you know it, Christianity seems popular.

But that generally doesn’t last, especially when people start taking a look at what Jesus demands from His followers. It’s not that people don’t like the benefits of being Christians. Who doesn’t want to be loved by God, adopted into His family, and received into heaven? They just don’t like the life of the disciple that Jesus calls for. So they naturally steer toward teaching that has no moorings in the gospel of the crucified and resurrected Christ, who calls us to take up our cross daily and follow Him (Luke 9:23). They avoid the demands of Christ while insisting that Jesus just teaches love­—and they define what love means. They neglect self-examination, refuse to acknowledge sin, and choose to believe what makes them comfortable rather than what leads them to be holy.

Maybe some of those same kinds of people were in the crowd eavesdropping on Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, as He spoke to His disciples about the kingdom joy of following Him. We could divide this sermon of Jesus into four parts: kingdom joy, vv. 20–26; kingdom love, vv. 27–36; kingdom life, vv. 37–45; and kingdom foundation, vv. 46–49. Jesus didn’t offer a cafeteria selection—pick which you prefer—but He lays down the kind of realities that characterize His followers: our joy, love, life, and foundation.

Our attention in this passage focuses on kingdom life. Jesus calls us to a life that mirrors Him and counters human nature. Following Him doesn’t mean that we’ve arrived or always make the right decisions or always treat people the way that we should, but it does mean that we’re moving in that direction. We’re never satisfied with just living life as people without Christ normally do. We want Jesus to be evident in us. But what does that look like? Here’s where Jesus explains how the life of a disciple will be evident. We’ll consider four aspects of this kingdom life addressed in our text.

1. The life of a disciple is evident in his love and mercy.

In the previous message, Matt unpacked for us what it means to love our enemies, to do the unexpected by doing good to those that hate us, blessing those cursing us, and praying for those that mistreat us. He told us, “God’s people are distinct from the world, not by how they treat those who love them, but by how they treat their enemy.” Kingdom love, as we grow in Christ, creates in us more desire to love as Christ loves, to show mercy as the Father has shown mercy to us. And not just to those who are easy to love. It’s particularly evident that Jesus rules our hearts when we love and show mercy to those unloving and unmerciful in their actions. That’s love and mercy that doesn’t originate from human nature but from hearts regenerated by the Holy Spirit.

That practice of love and mercy moves naturally to one of the most quoted verses in Scripture. “Do not judge, and you will not be judged.” How often, when calling attention to sin, injustice, and mistreatment of others, someone cites this verse to put a stop to any correction. Of course, they quote the KJV: “Judge not, that ye be not judged” (Matt 7:1). But something is missing in the translation. “And do not judge, and you will not be judged.” The conjunction shows that Jesus expands application on kingdom love and kingdom mercy in Luke’s rendering. We can love our enemies from a distance and feel good about ourselves. Yet Jesus calls for love and mercy whether up close or far away. The attitude of our hearts, the multiplication of our words, and the det[...]

Love Your Enemies (Luke 6:27–36) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

The organization Open Doors reported last year that on an average of 40 times per month, Christians in India undergo some form of persecution, including pastors being beaten or churches burned. The Open Doors report said, “Of the 64 million Christians in India, 39 percent experience persecution.”[1] And India is 15th on the list of dangerous countries to be a believer in. North Korea and Somalia top it. If you’re a Christian in these countries, you’re in constant danger.

Tomorrow a “trial” will end for Andrew Brunson, the American currently imprisoned in Turkey. Multiple U. S. Senators have applied to attend this. Initially, Andrew was arrested for “activities threatening national security.” Of course, he’d really just spent two decades running a small Presbyterian ministry in that country. Mainly as political leverage, and because of his faith, He’s currently facing a life–sentence. Brunson might not be killed in Turkey, but he’s been ripped from his wife and three kids since October of 2016. The Turkish government continues to prove its2elf to be an enemy of the gospel.

Nearer to home, a few years ago comedian Ricky Gervais hosted the Golden Globe awards. At the end of the night, as the exit music began to play, he thanked the crowd, thanked the foreign press, thanked the actors, and with the last words of the telecast said, “And thank you God, for making me an atheist.” Of course, he’s not alone in the mockery.

Then to move in even closer, there’s the guy in your office, whose language and subject matter regularly make light of the things you hold dear. As your coworkers discuss their weekend tomorrow, your Sunday will be strange. And occasionally, there’s social exclusion or behind the back contempt because of your comment or your character.

Finally, even closer, maybe your aunt or uncle at the Easter gathering rolls their eyes when you close your eyes before the meal.

Christians being beaten in India, being imprisoned in Turkey, being made fun of in your workplace and at your dinner table, this is our world. And Jesus has something to say about it, v. 27, But I say to you who hear, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.

When preaching this text, Alistair Begg told his congregation to get comfortable in their seats, because the text was far from comfortable. Jesus’ posture would go against their instincts. When I read about Andrew Brunson, my blood boils. And it ought to at the injustice being done to him and his family on account of the gospel. Yet, as if you weren’t already strange enough, this text will instruct you to do something else different than the world. While the world hates those who hate them, we’re to do the opposite. And we’re to do so to point them to someone else.

Theme: Love your enemies in contrast to the world and in likeness to your Maker.

1. Love your enemies

Note verse 27, But I say to you who hear. Hear, if you will, the qualification. It’s not just, but I say to you, it’s I say to you who hear. Some say this is not unlike Jesus’ regular expression, Let him who has ears, let him hear (Matt 11:15–16). In essence, he’s stressing that his listeners not only audibly process the info, but also willfully respond to it.[2]

So, to those who hear him, and to those He wanted to obey the words they heard, he says, v. 27, Love your enemies. “Love your enemies” is an imperative, but the text goes on to describe this love with further imperatives. Do good in verse 27. Bless in verse 28. Pray for in verse 28. This will be clear as we walk through the text, but Jesus’ teaching on love here is less concerned with your emotions than it is with action.[3]

Maybe you can get on board with doing good, blessing, and praying for. But who exactly does Jesus command his followers to do good toward? Verse 27, Do good to those who hate you. Who does Jesus command his followers t[...]

Jesus Calls the Twelve (Luke 6:12–26) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Everything claiming to be Christian is not. We’ve become too accustomed to Christian serving as an adjective to prop up what we want to do as spiritual, instead of Christian as a noun defining a person as a follower of Christ. But that’s nothing new. Jesus said so strikingly in the Sermon on the Mount, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven . . .” (Matthew 7:21). Tossing about the name of Jesus as though it contains enough magic in the utterance that all our wishes come true, seems to be more common than believing and following the Jesus of the bloody cross and empty tomb. While I think the fashionable days of identifying as Christian without following Jesus may be rapidly flying by—and good riddance—we’ve not gotten there yet. “I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness,” (Matt 7:23) has not been rescinded to accommodate Christ-less and cross-less Christianity.

But what kind of life does Christ set forth for His followers? One might mistakenly think it to be a dour, dull, starched sadness, drooping frown, wrinkled brow, lifeless, and joyless life. That’s not Jesus’ view of following Him. He’s the One who said, just hours before heading to the cross, “These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full” (John 15:11). That was infinite joy with the cross in view!

On the other hand, we mistake following Jesus as His disciples if we think it to be some kind of thoughtless, giddy, sloppy, syrupy, cliché-spouting, slapstick, and mindless life. That, too, is not Jesus’ view of following Him. He calls for His followers to take up our cross daily and follow Him (Luke 9:23). That won’t exactly prime the syrup pump!

So what does Jesus teach His disciples about following Him? That’s what we embark on over the next few weeks in Luke 6. He distinguishes between those following Him and those who don’t, not by their profession but by their life marked with joy. He describes a life, a full and rich life, not by a title or merely a claim. We might simplify it as kingdom life or, in this context, a life of kingdom joy.

The gospel calls us to Jesus’ kingdom of joy. What does that look like? The narrative that we consider helps us to see it, as we think through under two headings.

I. Jesus lays a foundation of joy

All the way toward the cross, Jesus laid the foundation for kingdom joy with those following Him. Such joy is not manufactured. It’s not found in a 12-Step program or a set of laws. No one can coach you into joy. Someone can make you laugh or smile by a remark or antic. Yet no one but Jesus can give you the kind of joy that Jesus exhibited and called for in His followers. It’s not found in entertainment or funny stories. Joy is found in relationship to Jesus Christ. It’s His joy experienced under His Lordship.

Verses 12–19 show us how Jesus laid a foundation for kingdom joy.

1. By choosing apostles

What does choosing apostles have to do with kingdom joy? Notice what Jesus did. In the tension of facing the rage of religious zealots that knew nothing of life with God, Jesus “went off to the mountain to pray, and He spent the whole night in prayer to God.” One might think that He went just to get away from the hardness of the Pharisees or to catch His breath. Instead, He sought the Father in order to walk lock-step in the Father’s will about those representing Him.

“And when day came, He called His disciples to Him.” That refers to a number of disciples that had been following along to learn of Jesus. Luke comments, “there was a large crowd of His disciples.” The word disciple means “a learner.” That kind of learning, though, entailed a life of following and observing and imitating the one teaching and modeling life. That’s why we should never hesitate to use the word disciple if we claim to be Christian. For as disciples we’re those believing Christ, [...]

Why the Resurrection Matters Daily (Rom 6:1–11) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

I love to celebrate Good Friday and Easter Sunday. To meditate on what Jesus did on the cross on Good Friday and to think of the divine affirmation of His cross work in the Resurrection on Easter Sunday, leads to worship, thanksgiving, and humbling dependence upon Christ.

But despite the wonder and celebration, there’s a huge problem with this weekend of worship. And I’m not talking about over indulging on Reese’s chocolate covered eggs. Good Friday and Easter Sunday are good and wonderful, and admittedly, needed to turn us from the trap of a dead, ceremonial religion to trust in the crucified and resurrected Christ. Yet the massive problem arises when we give attention to the redemptive works of Good Friday and Easter only one weekend out of the year. What happened on Good Friday and Easter Sunday are not once a year celebrations. The death and resurrection of Jesus affect us daily.

Here’s what I mean. If we treat the death and resurrection of Christ as some kind of insurance to keep us out of hell while we continue living daily for ourselves, then we’ve missed what Jesus Christ came to do. He came to seek and to save that which was lost (Luke 19:10). He came “to redeem us from every lawless deed, and to purify for Himself a people for His own possession, zealous for good deeds” (Titus 2:14). He came so that we might have life, and have life in abundance (John 10:10). He came to take away sins (1 John 3:5). He came to destroy the works of the devil (1 John 3:8). He came to do what the Law could not do, to justify us before God and satisfy eternal justice on our behalf (Rom 3:21–26). He came to redeem us from the penalty and slavery of sin, and to adopt us as God’s children, so that He might send forth His Spirit to dwell in us (Gal 4:4–7).

That’s where Paul heads in our text. He shows us that what Jesus did once affects believers daily. His death and resurrection were one-time, never to be repeated events, with countless daily implications and applications. What does it mean for the death and resurrection of Jesus to affect us daily? That’s what we will consider in these verses.

To catch us up to Romans 6, Paul wrote to the Romans in order to unpack the gospel of Christ (1:1–17). We need the gospel, he points out, because of two things that are true of everyone: (1) we’re all sinners through and through, and so under the judgment of God Rom 1:18–3:18); and (2) we’re accountable to God as those who by the works of the law can never be justified in the sight of God (Rom 3:19–20). So, rather than skirting the Law, God fulfilled it on our behalf through Christ (Rom 10:4), by displaying Jesus, His sinless Son, publicly on the cross in a bloody death to satisfy every demand necessary for sinners to become children of God (Rom 3:21–31). Through faith in Christ, God transfers His righteousness to us so that He counts us righteous in His sight through Christ (Rom 4:1–25). Then, in Romans 5, he introduces the subject of our union with Christ. Just as we were in union with Adam in his sin, resulting in our fall into sin and condemnation, by the grace of God, those who trust Christ God unites with Him to receive the gift of grace and righteousness through Him (Rom 5:1–21).

Since all of that happens by grace, some suppose that they can play loosely with sin. Some think, if God gives grace in the place of our sins, then more sins means more grace—so sin big, often, and abundantly.

But Paul’s retort brings up what we celebrate on Good Friday and Easter Sunday as the certain way to live for God and not for sin and self.

I. God shows grace to change the way that we relate to sin

By grace, we mean the loving, generous, and unmerited work of God on our behalf to save us, transform us, and keep us. It’s God’s work for us. Grace is never something that we have a right to, as though we’re so special that we deserve God’s gifts. Instead, God gives grace [...]

The True and Better Day of Atonement (Lev 16) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

“Again.” That’s what your gas tank says. And your stomach. Your shampoo. Your floss. Your homework. Your washing machine. Your email. Your treadmill. Your mortgage. Your coffee pot. Your bed. They’ll say it tomorrow and the next day, “again.”

And I could make a much longer list. We fill our weeks with tasks we’ve done countless times before. The short list would be those things humanity only does once. That list might fit on one hand, actually.

The Old Testament had once–for–all events, like Genesis 1’s creation, or the Exodus. But much of it laid out those things the Israelites were to do again and again. You likely think of the sacrificial system. They’d perform their burnt, cereal, peace, and sin offerings according to the detailed instructions laid out in the Pentateuch. And they did so again and again.

Once a year, God set aside a single day on their calendar for Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement. It was the holiest day of the year.[1] And it would be the holiest day of the next year. And the year after that.

We’re going to look at this holy day briefly tonight. There are 34 verses, and I plan to have you out of here in 25 minutes. So I won’t say everything. Not even close. But stay with me as we do a flyover of Leviticus 16.

God limited access.

We’ve not been going through Leviticus on Sunday mornings, so let me give you two or three sentences for context. First, Leviticus should be considered to be something of a continuation of Exodus. The end of Exodus, as you know, was devoted to detailed instructions for building the tabernacle. The purpose of that tabernacle was for the manifestation of the Lord’s glory among His people. It’s about access. So, the Israelites build the tabernacle as Exodus describes. And the ESV study bible notes, the “entire content of Leviticus was given less than a month after the construction of the tabernacle.”[2]

This book mainly concerns itself with Israel’s holiness. And chapter 16 comes at the end of a section on purification. Some would say it’s the crown and pinnacle of that section.[3]

And it won’t take a verse for us to pick up on this holiness. Verse 1 says the Lord spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron, when they drew near before the Lord and died. You know the story about Nadab and Abihu from Leviticus 10. We really don’t know much about what precisely happened, but we’re told there that they offered unauthorized fire before the Lord, which he had not commanded them. And then they died. When they approached the Lord, maybe they did so carelessly, maybe irreverently, but they certainly didn’t approach how the Lord told them to.

So, right after this, the Lord speaks to Moses and tells him, v. 2, Tell Aaron your brother not to come at any time into the Holy Place inside the veil, before the mercy seat that is on the ark, so that he may not die.

God’s warning Moses to warn his brother. In essence, don’t just barge into the Holy of Holies whenever you want and however you want. Remember Nadab and Abihu?

We live in a day where access is assumed. I don’t have to get on a train or depend on the post office to contact you. We even have some access to people we don’t know. Penny Hardaway shows us his office; tells us where he’s going; sends video of himself on his private jet. Of course, it’s the illusion of access, but it makes us think we deserve it. And that’s with our fellow man.

What about with a Holy God? Do we think we deserve unfettered access? On our terms? His holiness and our sin says otherwise. God told Aaron not to come at any time, v. 2, so that he may not die. Why? V.2b For I will appear in the cloud over the mercy seat.

A holy God is not safe for a sinful people. In mercy, God limited access. But that didn’t mean He restricted it completely.

2. In mercy, God told His people how to gain access. (v. 3-28)

I say, “in mercy,” because a holy God did not have to give si[...]

Jesus: Legalist, Lawbreaker, or Lord from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

In the Gospel of Matthew, a few Pharisees, having heard that Jesus silenced the Sadducees, gathered together. One of them, a lawyer, asked Jesus a question. Matthew’s gospel says he asked it, “to test him.” The question was, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Then Jesus gives the most succinct summation of the thousands of scrolls these Pharisees poured over, memorized, and attempted to live according to: “On these two commandments depend all the Law and the prophets” (Matt 22:34–37).

Not some of the law. All the law finds its essence in these two commandments: love God and love your neighbor. And if all the law depends upon those two commands, I think it’s safe to say the 4th command––Remember the Sabbath day––does as well.

In Jesus’ day, however, the Sabbath had become something altogether different for many, in particular the Pharisees. Rather than being a gift to them––a tutor or guide––for the purposes of helping them love God and for rejuvenating them to serve others, it became a treadmill for attempting to accrue righteousness.

In fact, the Pharisees went beyond the Old Testament law, spelling out extra–biblical detailed particulars of what it actually meant to remember the Sabbath. For example, some taught that on the Sabbath one could take 5 steps, but then he or she must take a break. Women couldn’t wear a bow in their hair because that might be construed as carrying a burden.[1]

Speaking of burdens, the Pharisees made the law one. In our text, Jesus clarifies it.

1. What gives Jesus the right/authority to clarify the law? (v. 1-5)

Pastor Phil mentioned a few weeks ago that we’d entered a section of Luke’s gospel where Jesus would shatter the misperceptions of God’s ways.[2] This text functions as something of the peak of the crescendo. Jesus has been controversial. By the end of our text today, the teachers of the law will have had enough.

The first three words of Luke 6 tell us the issue, On the Sabbath. What happens on the Sabbath? V. 1 While he was going through the grainfields, his disciples plucked and ate some heads of grain, rubbing them in their hands.

I won’t appeal too much to the other Gospel accounts of this episode, but Matthew’s Gospel that we read earlier did mention that the disciples were hungry (Matt 12). We may not be farmers, but you can imagine the battle you face at Kroger when you’ve missed lunch. The disciples walk through a neighbor’s field and can’t help themselves. Deuteronomy 23 actually permitted this kind of gleaning in the fields.[3] It’s not stealing, so long as you don’t use a sickle. They were hungry; they ate. And not tangential, they did it in front of Jesus.

But they did it in front of someone else too. Note verse 2: But some of the Pharisees said, “ Why are you doing what is not lawful to do on the Sabbath?” I found humorous Alistair Begg on the Pharisees’ constant presence in Luke. When you read the Gospels, you sort of wonder if there were 10 million Pharisees. They’re in the temple courts; they’re in the fields; they lurk around every corner.

Why would Luke include so many (most of them still to come) encounters with the Pharisees? Because just as he is progressively revealing to the reader the identity of Jesus, he’s also little by little showing us the growing antagonism toward Jesus. It’s character development. What we’re seeing here is that there aren’t 10 million Pharisees; instead there are a zealous and determined few who stalk Jesus and his disciples for a specific purpose.

And in our text, they do what they do: shine a spotlight on potential missteps. The disciples had certainly broken a law, but the question is whose? Again, I mention, th[...]

The Friend of Sinners (Luke 5:27–39) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Amidst all of the discussions surrounding Christianity, the most central truth may be overlooked. We can dialogue about denominations, forms of church government, modes of baptism, high church/low church, confessions of faith or no confessions of faith, Reformed or Arminian theology, single pastor or elder plurality, contemporary or traditional worship, small church or mega-church, types of activities, variety of ministries, politically involved or non-involved, mission focused or social focused, church planting or church revitalization, etc.

All of these prove to be interesting points of discussion. Yet with them, we can miss the most central truth of Christianity.

I grew up in a very traditional SBC church. We sang the doxology every Sunday, skipped the third verse of every hymn, observed the Lord’s Supper quarterly, read Sunday School quarterlies, endured the boredom of Training Union, gave priority to graded choirs, awarded Bibles for perfect Sunday School attendance, and dismissed sharply at noon. But we had no focus on the most central truth of Christianity. Until the Spirit of God began to sweep across the country with an awakening, we functioned quite well without the most central truth of Christianity. We ignored it.

We can have all sorts of activities, appear very religious and spiritual, speak in pious terms, act quite moral, champion critical moral issues, give liberally, meet regularly, and practice Christian liturgy, yet still miss the most central truth of Christianity. We can even call ourselves Christians while blissfully ignorant of what it means to be Christian.

Jesus put the most central truth of Christianity into one sentence in the narrative of Zaccheus. “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10). Or more simply, Jesus Christ came to save sinners. That’s most central to everything of which the Bible speaks and of which the church should be concerned. We can continue discussions and graciously disagree on peripheral issues but we mustn’t miss that which is most central: Jesus Christ came to save sinners.

What does it mean for Jesus Christ, the Son of God to come into the world to save sinners? Our passage helps us to see that central truth.

The Saving Call of Jesus

We realize that the use of this kind of language, that Jesus came to save sinners, might offend the sensibilities of some, including many religious people. The thought that someone needed to be saved due to sinfulness may seem out of fashion for the sophistication of our day. But think about it. We’re sinful people. All of us! “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” Paul writes (Rom 3:23). We’re sinners that live among sinners. That sinful disposition and practice separates us from God. We’re broken and cannot repair ourselves. Sure, someone can improve his moral practice a bit to cut out some of the nastier aspects of his life, but he still continues in sin. Rebellion against God and His law lives in his heart. He wants his own way without facing the consequences of sin. He’s a fallen person living in a fallen world. He needs to be delivered from the penalty and power of sin. He cannot deliver himself. Only Jesus can.

Luke narrates a story that helps us to see Jesus saving sinners. Jesus intentionally pursues the hopeless. That particular day, “He went out and noticed [better, ‘fixed his gaze on, looked intently at’] a tax collector named Levi sitting in the tax booth, and He said to him, ‘Follow Me.’” This was not a quirk of circumstances but rather Jesus pursued Levi the tax collector in order to save him from his sin and make him a follower.

Tax collectors had bad reputations in the first century. Levi, also better known as Matthew the Apostle (Matt 9:9; Mark 2:14), worked at one of the most despicable jobs in the region of Capernaum. His tax booth was situated on the main road between the Sea of Gali[...]

Leaving and Following (Luke 5:1–11) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

In all of my growing up years, my favorite place on the earth could not be Googled. It lay in the middle of an old family farm. A giant spreading red oak tree anchored the spot. The oak stood proudly at the top of a ridge that peered down onto a blanket of aging leaves that dropped to a clear water branch. I could sit there for hours and look, listen to the wind rustling through the leaves, watching the squirrels jump from tree to tree, and smelling the rich aroma of the forest. I loved to go there. But I would have to take you. You couldn’t find it without following.

So if you wished to go and drink up the beauty of that spot, I would say, “Follow me.” Google Maps wouldn’t lead you there. Someone who had never been to that place could not get you there. To get there, you would have to leave and follow me.

When Jesus Christ began His public ministry, He called people to follow Him. He would take them where they had never been before. He would lead them where no one else could. But the cost was high: leave everything and follow Him.

We tend, in our day, to like a much less demanding kind of Jesus. You know what I mean, the kind that offers gentle appeals but no commands; the kind that scarcely utters a word lest it disrupt our plans and inconvenience us; the kind that wants to be led around by our hand doing as we want Him to do but not the reverse. A soft Jesus, timid at demands of busy Americans seems to fit our religious sentiments much better than what we see in the New Testament.

Yet Jesus never hesitates to command leaving and following Him. We might think of Him as too demanding, as when one man said, ‘I’ll follow you,’ but “permit me first to go and bury my father.” Jesus told him, “Allow the dead to bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim everywhere the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:59–60). Too decisive? Too costly? Only if you think that Jesus is just another earthly leader or just another religious figure but not the eternal Son of God, crucified, raised from the dead, and reigning as Lord. In such case, to hear His call, we must follow.

Jesus Christ calls us to whole-heartedly follow Him. In that call, we don’t find Him first, structuring a massive theological framework for us to fully understand, or a vision of future triumphs and failures, or assurance that we’ll be popular and safe if we follow Him, or the certainty that following would never interrupt our personal ambitions. No, Jesus calls; we’re to follow. But what does it look like to follow Him? That’s where this gospel story helps us to see what it means to follow Him.

1. Followers listen to Christ

Jesus stood along the edge of the Lake of Gennesaret, also called the Sea of Galilee, the Sea of Chinnereth in the OT, and the Sea of Tiberius. Much more a lake than a sea, it spread fourteen by eight miles, and lay 680 feet below sea level, serving as a principle source of income and food for many in the region of Galilee. As he stood teaching “the word of God,” the people kept pressing and pressing in around Him. So intent on getting near Him, Jesus needed a little space, so He got into Simon Peter’s boat, had him push off from the shore, and continued teaching.

But His teaching, in this case, was not the point that Luke wants to make. He wants us to see this first real movement of the disciples following Jesus. In it, he teaches us the common characteristics of those who follow Jesus.

Jesus finished up His sermon from the boat, then “He said to Simon, ‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Well, here is an odd thing: a carpenter telling experienced fishermen to fish at a time not ripe for fishing. Peter says as much. “Master, we worked hard all night and caught nothing.” The language used expressed diligent, backbreaking work. Here daytime came upon them. They struggled to stay awake while He preached after staying up all night. Now He te[...]