I received a yunomi (a Japanese cup with no handle) a couple of months ago for my birthday. I love it. It was handcrafted by a local potter. I asked for it because I wanted a daily reminder of the kind of work that I want to do. I don’t want to batch-produce content or add to the slop that’s flooding the Internet. I want to write, preach, and read slowly with love and great care.

The more the world is flooded with cheap and mass-produced items, the more that this matters. I spoke to a furniture maker recently who decried the trend toward buying cheap, disposable furniture that’s replaced every five years. Few people are buying the handmade, solid-wood furniture he makes that will last a lifetime. The more the world has things we throw away, the more I like sitting on the solid wood chair in my living room. This chair has been here longer than I have, and it will likely last longer than I do too.

According to Pew Research, it seems that a third of new online content is likely written or substantially edited by AI. I’m guessing this number will grow. The more we have to wade through AI slop, the more human-written content will stand out. I think we’ll be able to tell, and I think it will matter.

The same applies to preaching. As long as I can remember, preachers have been able to take shortcuts in the process of preparing a sermon. We can piggyback on the work of others, and now we can leverage AI in the research, writing, and evaluation of our sermons. Still, nothing will ever replace the preacher’s work and meditation on the text. I can tell when a preacher has sweated through the preparation process. I can tell when preachers have first applied the sermons to themselves. I can tell when a preacher (including me) has not, and there’s a world of difference. The more shortcuts preachers can take, the more valuable it will become when preachers do all the hard work necessary to not only prepare a good sermon but prepare their hearts as well. No shortcut will ever get you there.

This is a call to care. It’s a call to inconvenience and inefficiency. It’s a call to bucking the trends, to developing one’s craft, to wrestling with God and the work he has given us to do. I would never say that it’s always wrong to use AI, but I would argue that some things matter too much to entrust the work to a machine. We need human writers. We need human preachers. We need to take a stand and fight against the flood of poor-quality work produced by machines that try to seem real. Instead, we should create what is genuine, human, and costly.

The more we’re flooded with what’s cheap and commodified, the more our human work will matter. Never surrender the best of what it means to be human to a machine. The more machines do the work, the more we need people like you to write, preach, speak, create, and love in ways that machines cannot.

Big Idea: God invites everyone in, but only those who are truly changed by Jesus belong at the feast.

We used to get them in the mail. Now we get them by email. “We’re getting married,” the email reads, “and you’re invited to join us.” You click a link and find all the details, and then you have to RSVP.

You know the drill. You check your calendar. You think about what you have to wear. You do all kinds of calculations, and then you click either “joyfully accept” or “regretfully decline.” You make a decision, and you live with it.

Sometimes it takes some thought. Other times, there’s no question. If someone really matters to you, of course you’re going to attend! You’re going to cancel any other plan. You’re going to pay whatever money you need to pay. You know you just have to be there.

The Kingdom’s Like a Wedding Feast

According to Jesus, the kingdom of heaven is like that. Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son…” (Matthew 22:2).

By kingdom of heaven, he means God’s power and rule breaking into reality. It’s where God’s kingly rule is acknowledged, and where his will is done.

Jesus says the kingdom of heaven is like being invited to a wedding. When you’re a king, and your son gets married, it’s a big deal. It’s not just about the wedding of a prince and heir; it’s preparation for him to take the throne, and the start of a new royal family.

Think about this. It’s “the greatest celebration imaginable thrown by the wealthiest person imaginable for the most honored person imaginable” (John MacArthur).

So how exactly is the kingdom of heaven like this? One of the major themes throughout the Bible is that of the messianic banquet. Isaiah 54 and 55 describe a divine marriage where the Lord will prepare a feast of rich food and well-aged wine for all peoples on his mountain. The best food and wine is available free of charge. It’s not just a meal, but the start of a brand new creation with no more death, no more tears. Everyone’s welcome to attend free of charge. It’s what we can look forward to one day.

In Matthew 22, Jesus is saying that this wedding feast is beginning. And Jesus is the son for whom the king arranges the wedding feast. All throughout Matthew, Jesus has called himself the bridegroom (Matthew 9:15). In other words, Jesus is the king who is taking his bride. His wedding marks the beginning of a new creation in which everything is set right. This is the culmination of redemptive history. Everything converges with this important moment in history as Jesus takes his bride.

And what a party it is. Verse 4 says, “See, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready. Come to the wedding feast.”  In those days, guests would be fed and cared for over seven days, and if you were a king, it could extend far beyond that. So this is a feast, a party, that is better than anything you could imagine.

God’s kingdom is like a lavish, freely offered wedding feast celebrating Jesus the Bridegroom. It signals that God’s rule is breaking in and launching a new creation where all is made right. Everyone’s invited, so the only right response is to come and join the joy.

I want you to think about that. You’re invited to be part of the best celebration in history, free of charge, as you come to Jesus. Everything is provided for you. You just have to come. As Isaiah 55:1 says:

Come, everyone who thirsts,
come to the waters;
and he who has no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without price.

The kingdom is like a wedding feast. That’s the first thing that Jesus tells us. But then he says something else.

Not Everyone Wants to Come

What do you do when you’re invited to the prince’s wedding feast? You attend! But that’s not what happens in this story.

The king sends out notice of the wedding in verses 3 and 4. Back then, you would get a preliminary invitation. But then, when everything was ready, you would get a second summons, saying, “Remember that wedding feast you were invited to? It’s ready. Come to the party!”

Shockingly, they refuse to come. But then he sent other servants. What remarkable patience. He didn’t just give up on his guests when they refused his invitation. He absorbed their rejection and extended another gracious invitation to join the feast.

But verse 5 says that they just went about their business and ignored the invitation. In that culture, this would have been unthinkable. This was more than rudeness; it insulted the dignity of the king who had counted on their attendance and graciously prepared food for them. It was a direct challenge to the king’s authority. It was absurd and unthinkable for anything like this to happen.

But it gets worse. Verse 6 says some “seized his servants, treated them shamefully, and killed them.” No wonder the king responded as he did in verse 7: “The king was angry, and he sent his troops and destroyed those murderers and burned their city.” Initially, the king responded with patience, but his patience will not last forever. The king tolerates rejection, but cannot tolerate rebellion and murder. The king’s patience has its limits. The king extends grace, but when that grace is rejected, it ultimately gives way to judgment.

What Jesus does with this picture is to tell the story of Israel’s history, right up until that day. God sent servant after servant, prophet after prophet to Israel. But the people rejected what they had to say. They persecuted and murdered them.

Even in Jesus’ day, messengers went out with the invitation. John the Baptist, Jesus himself, and the disciples went out with the message. But again, they were rejected. And ultimately, they killed Jesus.

In his famous sermon in Acts 7, Stephen said:

Which of the prophets did your ancestors not persecute? They even killed those who foretold the coming of the Righteous One, whose betrayers and murderers you have now become. You received the law under the direction of angels and yet have not kept it. (Acts 7:52-53 CSB)

Do not ignore or reject the invitation from the king. How you respond really matters.

God’s kingdom is like a lavish wedding feast, signaling God’s reign breaking in to make all things new. But some refuse the invitation, leading to judgment. But then Jesus tells us something else, something surprising.

The King Invites Unexpected People

This is us in verses 9-10:

Go therefore to the main roads and invite to the wedding feast as many as you find.’ And those servants went out into the roads and gathered all whom they found, both bad and good. So the wedding hall was filled with guests.

The people who should have come don’t. So what does God do? He invites people who have no business coming. He invites the undeserving and unworthy. The king doesn’t invite only the worthy to the feast; he invites both good and bad.

The feast was meant for the important people. All of a sudden, the hungry, hopeless, and perhaps even the homeless are invited. Those who had every advantage and claim are excluded, and those who never dreamt of being invited to the feast are included.

This is how the kingdom works. God invites everyone to the wedding feast. You’re invited. He invites Jews and Gentiles, the worthy and unworthy, undesirables, tax collectors, and sinners. Everyone’s included.

Surprisingly, God is honored in these people coming. The British preacher Charles Spurgeon talks about how this new plan made the feast even better. The place was full. The guests were happy to be there. Those who came were grateful because they realized they didn’t deserve to be there. They were more joyful and they enjoyed the food more than those who were originally invited. The king’s generosity was more on display. Spurgeon says:

Certainly, the occasion became more famous than it would otherwise have been. If the feast had gone on as usual it would have been only one among many such things; but now this royal banquet was the only one of its kind, unique, unparalleled. To gather in poor men off the streets, labouring men and idle men, bad men and good men, to the wedding of the Crown Prince—this was a new thing under the sun. Everybody talked of it. There were songs made about it, and these were sung in the king’s honour where none honoured kings before.

The party was even better because of God’s generous invitation to those who didn’t belong.

God’s kingdom is like a huge wedding party God invites everyone to join. Some people refuse, so God welcomes even the unlikely people instead.

But there’s one more thing in this parable that we need to see.

It's Not Enough to Accept the Invitation

You would think the story would be over at this point. But the story takes a surprising twist in verses 11 to 13.

But when the king came in to look at the guests, he saw there a man who had no wedding garment. And he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

When you attend a wedding, you know there’s a dress code. Back then, respectable clothing — probably white — was mandatory. Many believe that the host would furnish guests with clothing appropriate for the occasion.

This made the one guest surprising. He came without a wedding garment. This was not a case of someone who didn’t have better clothes. This is a case of refusal or negligence. He insulted the king by not bothering to clean or change his garment.

You can’t just accept the invitation; you must respond appropriately or you will be cast out of the banquet. Many false disciples think they belong. They have made a decision. They call him Lord. But without true repentance and faith, they will be cast out of the banquet.

Faith isn’t just agreeing with Christian ideas, showing up at church, or making a one-time decision. It’s more than mental assent, emotional regret, or simply admitting you’ve sinned. Biblical faith is a Spirit-given, gospel-shaped turning from sin to God that reshapes your life. It means forsaking sin and putting on Christ, so that real change and lasting fruit become visible. Anyone can make a decision, pray a prayer, or ask Jesus into your heart, but that doesn’t mean you’ve bowed to King Jesus with repentant trust. You’ve got to put on the righteousness provided to you. You’ve got to respond in life-changing faith.

God invites everyone in, but only those who are truly changed by Jesus belong at the feast.

That’s what the kingdom of heaven is like. It’s a lavish wedding feast symbolizing Jesus’ kingdom where the expected guests don’t come, the uninvited do, and you must wear the provided robes of righteousness.

Jesus concludes this story in verse 14 by saying, “For many are called, but few are chosen.” You’ve been invited, but that’s not enough. The question is: how will you respond? Will you blow off the invitation, as some in this story did? You must respond to the invitation in an appropriate way. Respond to his summons with repentance and right living, showing that you are one of his. Don’t miss the feast unmatchable feast that’s offered to anyone who truly and faithfully responds to the invitation you’ve been given.

Curated links for your weekend reading:

On Being a Self-Critical Christian

A lot of people like me, who are quick to critique and be critical of others, are firstly and most harshly critical of themselves.

Some Things Are Worth Holding Onto

In fact, the older I get, the more convinced I become that there are some efficiencies that are not improvements.

Teaching Theologically in an AI World

Here is what I want to challenge you with: efficiency is not formation.

The Year Is 2083 and You Die Leaving Nothing Behind but AI Slop

As you are lowered into the ground, OpenAI deletes your inactive ChatGPT account.

What Is a Liturgy, and Should We Have One?

So the question is not: Will we have liturgy? It is: What kind of liturgy will we have?

Walking Alongside Parents of LGBTQ+ Identifying Children: A Call to the Church

As the body of Christ, we have the privilege of entering into their suffering with compassion, hope, and faithful love.

My Father Spent Years Preparing His Boat for Journeys He Never Took. Now It May Finally Go Somewhere.

Fourteen years after my dad bought his custom-built cruiser, an adventurous young couple may finally give it the life he imagined.

We probably don’t do it as often as we should. Believer: remember your baptism.

I can’t remember the day that I first trusted Christ, but I can remember the date of my baptism: June 29, 1980. I remember standing in the baptistery, answering questions that my pastor asked me, and then being submerged under the water, and coming up again as the congregation sang another verse of the song “I Know Whom I Have Believed.”

I consider this day one of two that I try to remember often, along with the date of my wedding.

We should remember our baptism for two reasons.

Remember Baptism for What It Means

The Second London Baptist Confession says:

Baptism is an ordinance of the New Testament, ordained by Jesus Christ, to be unto the party baptized, a sign of his fellowship with him, in his death and resurrection; of his being engrafted into him; of remission of sins; and of giving up into God, through Jesus Christ, to live and walk in newness of life.

There’s so much packed into the meaning of baptism. I often think that if God merely forgave us of our sins, that would be enough to amaze us. But that’s just the beginning. He not only justified us, but he’s welcomed us into his family. He’s given us all the benefits of his salvation, including adoption, his presence with us, and unshakeable hope in the future. He’s united us to him. He’s made us new. And that’s just a start.

If we meditated on all the benefits that are ours in salvation, we would be better for it. Baptism is one way for us to think about all of these benefits.

Baptism is part of how we lay hold on all of these benefits. It’s part of how we become a Christian. As Bobby Jameson says, when we pull the lens back, we can “look at the process of conversion as a unified whole, baptism included. According to the New Testament, baptism is where faith goes public, which means it’s an integral part of becoming a Christian.”

So when we meditate on our baptism, we’re meditating on the start of our life with God, and all the benefits that we get to enjoy as a result.

Remember Baptism for What It Means Today

Don’t just remember baptism for what it meant at the start of your walk with God; remember what it means for you today.

Surprisingly, the Westminster Confession includes a section on improving our baptism. Commenting on this section, David Mathis writes:

Bringing to mind our baptism is a potent way of bringing ourselves back to the gospel dramatized in the baptismal waters. In calling to mind our own baptism, we remember not just the experience, but its significance in pointing to what Jesus has accomplished.

Your baptism isn’t just a past event; it has continuing relevance for your life today. Don’t leave your baptism in your past. Remember it, and consider its ongoing relevance for the decisions, struggles, and temptations you face today.

Your baptism is a single past event with profound, ongoing significance. Christian: remember your baptism, not just today, but often. It will bring blessing and encouragement to your walk with God.

Curated links for your weekend reading:

TGC, AI, and the Democratization of Competence

I don’t think it is an exaggeration to suggest that the next world-changing technology is upon us in the form of artificial intelligence, and once again, there will be a time of negotiation and adaptation.

Don’t Be Ashamed to Be Old

If the time has come for you to be old, don’t be ashamed of your age, for you are simply joining company with many of the grandest things in all the universe.

The Best Thing You Can Do for Yourself in 2026 Is to Keep a Daily Diary

The best part about this project is it doesn’t need to take a lot of time.

Why Pastors Should Say “I Don’t Know” More Often

People are more willing to trust leaders who are honest about their vulnerabilities than those who only show their strengths.

Five Words in a Known Tongue

Our job is not to impress our people with how much we know. We can do so much better than that.

Fierce Wolves Will Come

When we fail to make younger pastors aware of these realities, we lead them to believe they will experience the exception and not the rule.

What to Do When Authors We Love Sin

Our church library’s little cull started as a judgement on the work and ministries of certain authors, but it was more than that.

Themelios 51.2

The August 2026 edition of Themelios is available for free

My post at Gospel for Life: How to Listen to a Sermon

Cultivate such a high view of Scripture that it shapes how you prepare, listen to, and respond to a sermon.

My column at TGC Canada: Dear Younger Pastor, Don’t Rush

Please learn from one of my biggest mistakes.

Just a reminder: You have an enemy, and he hates what is good in your life.

He probably hates your church. I say "probably" because Satan doesn’t hate all churches. But he hates churches that preach the gospel, that take his word seriously, that pursue true Christian unity and friendship, and that seek his glory. He will do everything he can to destroy and oppose such a church, often from within.

He hates your family. Satan hates marriages that reflect the beauty of the gospel. He hates children because they mean so much to the Lord, and because children are often quicker than adults at comprehending the beauty and wonder of Jesus. Satan will do everything he can to destroy your marriage and your children.

He hates the time you spend in Scripture and prayer. Satan doesn't mind an open Bible. He’s done some of his finest work among those who open and twist God’s revelation. But he hates a heart that trembles at his word (Isaiah 66:2). He fears even the weakest Christian who bows in prayerful reliance on our Father. Satan wants you to conclude that the Bible is boring and that prayer is a waste of your time.

I could go on. Satan hates all in your life that’s true, honorable, just, pure, lovely commendable, excellent, and worthy of praise (Philippians 4:8).

It may sound surprising that we believe in a real, personal enemy who is opposed to God and his people, but Jesus did. Jesus spoke honestly about his nature: he’s a liar and a murderer (John 8:44). He’s the father of all lies. In fact, the way that he murders is through his lies.

Paul spoke honestly about our spiritual opposition (Ephesians 6:10-20). In 1 Peter 5:8, Peter warned, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”

As I say, this may sound surprising, but I believe you’ll either embrace Scripture’s teaching or you’ll be repeatedly surprised as you encounter his work in your life.

None of this should alarm us, but it should prepare us. Satan is defeated. We can be put on God’s armor and stand against his themes (Ephesians 6:11), be sober-minded and watchful (1 Peter 5:8), and resist him (James 4:7). The one thing we dare not do is ignore him, because he thrives when we forget him and we’re unprepared for his schemes.

You have an enemy. Life makes a lot more sense when we live in light of that reality. It shouldn’t mean that we live scared; it should mean that we live aware. It should cause us to keep an eye out for his attacks, and to never be surprised when we experience them. It should cause us to live in dependence upon God, and to long for the day when our enemy will be fully and finally vanquished never to attack again.

Never forget that you have an enemy, and never forget you have One who defeated that enemy and will strengthen you when you experience the enemy’s attacks.

Big Idea: Grace isn’t a paycheck; it’s a gift.

If you are a parent or you manage people, there is one phrase I guarantee you will hear: “That’s not fair!” Kids, workers, and all of us tend to look around the room. We see how others are treated compared to us and quickly notice where we feel we are not getting enough. It’s our way of saying, “I want justice. I want equity. I want to be treated with the same care and given the same opportunities as everyone else.”

It’s a reflection of our longing to know that the rules are consistent, that we’re not being overlooked, and that we’re being treated. And, it turns out, we bring this into our relationship with God.

Here’s an example.

One of Jesus’ disciples, Peter, said these words to Jesus: “See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?” (Matthew 19:27). Think about the audacity of this question. Jesus had taught the disciples that being a disciple meant renouncing all possessions and following him. Now, Peter tries to negotiate with Jesus by saying, “What’s in it for me?” Instead of accepting Jesus’ call as a reward, Peter calculates the return on his sacrifice. This transforms discipleship from devotion into a business arrangement.

Even worse, Peter thinks that he has special status. He seems to think that he’s done more and deserves more. Jesus had just finished teaching about self-sacrifice, and Peter follows it up with a question about what he’s going to get from following Jesus.

Here’s what Peter shows us: it’s easy to focus on the wrong thing when following Jesus. Instead of following him because he is worth our devotion, we can slip into following him for what’s in it for us. We can begin to view Christianity as a transaction, and to think that God owes us for our devotion to him. We believe God owes us something. And when we do this, we lose the beauty of the gospel. We get trapped by self-interest when we should be amazed by the great kindness of a loving God who doesn't owe us anything but has given us everything.

And to help us see this, Jesus tells a story. It’s a story that’s hard for us to accept, but is exactly what we need.

The Story

Here’s the story.

For the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into his vineyard. (20:1-2).

This landowner had a vineyard. The challenge with owning a vineyard is that grape harvesting couldn’t be scheduled in advance. The owner had to determine daily when grapes reached optimal ripeness for the best price, and when that happened, he needed workers immediately.

So he goes out and looks for day laborers. Day laborers occupied the lowest rung on the socioeconomic ladder. Unemployment was so high that they would just wait around in the market, hoping that someone would come along and hire them. They didn’t have a lot going for them, except for when the grape harvest was ready. Then they had bargaining power because the landowner really needed workers to help him with the harvest.

So early in the morning, the landowner went out and hired a bunch of workers. He offered to pay them each a denarius, which represented a standard day’s wage for a full twelve-hour workday from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. All good so far. The day laborers got a job, and the landowner got his workers.

But the landowner soon realized he needed more workers. He went to the market again at 9 a.m. and found more workers just waiting around, and he hires them. This time he doesn’t say how much he will pay them. He just says he will pay them what’s right.

Why weren’t they hired before? We don’t know for sure, but the later workers say they were standing around because nobody had hired them yet. Maybe these were less desirable laborers. Maybe the landowner was trying to make sure he didn’t hire too many people for the job. But he kept going back and repeating the process. His first trip was at 6 a.m. Then we went back at 9, at noon, at 3 in the afternoon, and finally at 5:00, just an hour before quitting time. He made five trips to the marketplace in total, and the laborers worked anywhere from 12 hours to 1 hour before quitting time.

What did he promise them? He promised the first batch a day’s wages. He promised the rest that he would pay them what was right.

Here’s the shocking part in verses 8 to 10.

And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.’ And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius. Now when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius.

At day’s end, the landowner paid everyone the same wage—starting with the men hired for the last hour and ending with those who had worked all day. Each one received a full day’s pay.

Now picture yourself in the first group—tired, sweaty, twelve hours into the heat. You watch the landowner place a denarius into the hands of the latecomers, and you can’t help doing the math: “If they’re getting that much for one hour, this is going to go really well for me.” But then the ones who worked three hours received the same. So do the ones who worked six. And nine. And finally, you step forward—after twelve hours—and you’re given the very same denarius.

It would feel deeply unfair, even unjust, like the landowner is treating unequal work as though it were equal. Everyone would expect that those who worked longer in harsher conditions would get more pay.

They let the landowner know about it.

And on receiving it they grumbled at the master of the house, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ (20:11)

It’s hard to blame them, isn’t it?

The landowner replied:

Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity? (20:13-15)

The landowner makes two main arguments.

First, he made a legal argument. He has fulfilled, to the letter, the legal obligation he made to each worker. He delivered exactly what he said he would. He hasn’t shortchanged any of the workers a single penny.

But then he made a second argument, and it’s a moral one. He has the right to do what he likes with his money, and if he chooses to be generous, that’s his prerogative.

“Really?” we want to say. It still doesn’t feel fair. It would have been shocking then, just as it’s shocking now. What employer runs a business like that? It sounds irrational—and it would create instant resentment on the job site. By ordinary standards, it isn’t just unconventional; it’s terrible business. If you paid this way all the time, you’d invite conflict, lose your best workers, and eventually go broke. And even if the landowner has the legal right to do it, the outcome still feels unjust.

Jesus gives us this parable to unsettle and startle us so we realize something important about what it means to follow him.

The Point

Do you remember Peter’s question? “See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?” Here’s the mental framework that Peter had: God is like a cosmic accountant, tallying our efforts and distributing rewards proportionately based on our work.

But here’s the truth that this story reveals. God’s gift of salvation is just and generous. Nobody deserves the grace we’ve been given. Rather than looking around and asking what’s in it for us, we should be amazed that we get anything at all because we don’t deserve anything. It’s all a gift.

Think about the really great believers: those who have served God a long time and have sacrificed a lot for the kingdom. Think about those who have sacrificed most for God, particularly people who have devoted themselves to religious service or moral achievement. This includes those in positions of spiritual authority or those with exceptional moral track records.

Now consider those who haven’t done as much. In Peter’s day, that would have included people like little children; a leper; two blind men; a centurion; a paralytic; a Canaanite woman; and a tax collector, to name just a few. These are “the last,” the ones no one else wants. No one thinks they’re worth hiring, worth investing in, or even worth noticing. They are the overlooked and unskilled, the oldest and weakest, the ones assumed to be least productive, and therefore most easily ignored.

So what does God owe those who have worked hard and sacrificed so much? The same thing he owes those who have done little: nothing. We don’t earn a standing in God’s kingdom. Everything we receive is grace. Our place with God does not rest on human merit in any sense. We never deserve his favor—and if we start to think we do, we put ourselves in real spiritual danger, because we’ve forgotten that it’s all grace from beginning to end.

There is no one who doesn’t need God’s grace, and there is no one beyond the reach of God’s grace.

A visiting preacher once got a note:

I am in great perplexity. I have been praying for a long time for something that I am confident is according to God’s will, but I do not get it. I have been a member of the Presbyterian church for thirty years, and have tried to be a consistent one all that time. I have been the superintendent of the Sunday school for twenty-five years and an elder in the church for twenty years; and yet God does not answer my prayer. Can you explain why?

Do you see his reasoning? “I’ve done all this for God; why isn’t God paying me back? Why isn’t he keeping his end of the bargain?”

Here’s how the preacher replied:

This man thinks that because he has been a consistent church member for thirty years, a faithful Sunday school superintendent for twenty-five years, and an elder in the church for twenty years that God is under obligation to answer his prayer. He is really praying in his own name, and God will not hear our prayers when we approach him in that way. We must, if we would have God answer our prayers, give up any thought that we have any claims upon God. There is not one of us who deserves anything from God.

Do you hear this? We must give up any thought that we have any claims on God. There is not one of us who deserves anything from God!

That’s why Jesus says in verse 16, “So the last will be first, and the first last.” I love how one man (Michael Green) puts it:

Many Christians who have worked hard for God over a long period will have a lowly place in the kingdom because their motives were not purged of the ideas of merit and reward. Many poor Christians who came to faith only at the end of their life will be high in the kingdom because they knew they had done nothing to boast of, and never gave rewards a thought. They just responded to the unexpected love that sought them and accepted them.

Grace isn’t a paycheck; it’s a gift. In the end, the only right way to respond to grace is to express amazement that God has given us grace at all.

So here’s the answer to Peter’s question. Peter asked, “See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?” Here’s the answer that this story gives us: you get the same thing every Christian gets and every Christian needs. You get grace that you don’t deserve, and a Savior you could never repay. So lay down the scoreboard, silence the grumbling, and let the generosity of God move you from entitlement to worship that God has chosen to save someone like you.

Curated links for your weekend reading:

Ordinary Abundance

A modern apartment is full of things that once drew the same kind of awe.

Build Something That Outlives You

The greatest measure of whether or not you built well is what happens after you are no longer there to hold it together.

13 Tactical Steps to Take in Your Battle Against Sin

This is mortal combat: Sin dies or we die.

The Ruinous Hatred of Flattery

“Subtle” sins of speech like flattery can be more dangerous than the obvious ones because they don’t tend to register on our radars like other sins do.

To the Parents Driving Home with an Empty Seat

But now, as they make the journey back, the seat behind them is empty.

American Evangelicals Long for the Embrace of the Machine God

No computer program can determine truth. But the authoritative-sounding voice and the ability to get an answer to any question that statistically feels right, even if it’s wrong, are beguiling.

The Benefits of Bivocational Ministry

While full-time ministry offers important advantages, the benefits of bivocational ministry are often forgotten in our “specialized world”.

Literal or Symbolic? Reading Revelation Responsibly

As a rule of thumb, Revelation should be largely read and interpreted symbolically.

If you’re going to talk about technology today, eventually you’re going to have to talk about AI.

Here are some initial reflections.

AI is Powerful

I’ve found AI incredibly powerful in some use cases. In the past, I used to look for software solutions for many of the things I need to get done. Now, I often find it easier to vibe code my own solution so that it does exactly what I need it to do. It’s also great at tackling monotonous jobs (“donkey work”), like pouring through a mountain of data, and equalling what any human could do in a fraction of the time. As Challies observes, It’s great at summarizing, searching, researching, finding, and analyzing. Used well, AI can be powerful.

AI is Limited

AI is also limited, although it’s also improving. It seems to make the silliest and most basic mistakes sometimes. It hallucinates. It’s sycophantic, which means it has a tendency to flatter, something that’s built in by design. As someone writes, it’s a “very expensive mirror that always agrees with you.”

When used for writing, it can improve bad writing, but only to a point. Eventually, it flattens it and sucks out most of the originality. Most of the time, it writes in a way that is neither bad nor brilliant.

Of course, AI is arguably the worst it’s ever going to be today. It’s powerful but it’s limited.

AI Has Biases

One study found that AI gives unreliable or incomplete information to the most common questions about the Christian faith. Another study shows a perceived left-leaning bias in LLMs. AI is designed by humans with a particular worldview, and that worldview inevitably becomes baked into the models. Often, that worldview does not align with Christianity.

AI is Artificial

It’s right in the name. It’s not intelligence; it’s artificial intelligence. It’s why one tech pundit insists on calling AI a robot. He wants to remind himself that he’s not talking to anything like a human; he’s talking to a machine that can’t love, feel, or even think. It can act like an artificial therapist or conversation partner, but it can never understand, care, or truly think. It’s more like a microwave than like a human. We should do everything we can to remind us of this reality.

AI Can Use Us Rather Than Serve Us

Picture a radiologist who’s trained to scan x-rays. One day, he’s replaced by an AI model that can scan x-rays faster. The radiologist becomes a second reader responsible to double-check the AI model’s work. In a sense, AI doesn’t work for him; he works for AI.

At first, AI promises gains. It can do much of the work that we used to do. Soon, though, we lose those gains, because we’re expected to do more work, like Lucy and Ethel on the assembly line (watch it if you haven’t). Or, our work is outsourced to AI. AI. gives with one hand, but it often takes away with the other.

AI Could Cause Certain Skills to Atrophy

I once took three months off in the summer. When I began to prepare sermons again, I couldn’t believe how much my preparation skills had atrophied. It doesn’t seem to take long for our mental muscles to get flabby.

Andrew Noble cautions that when we outsource skills to AI, we begin to lose these skills. It’s like going to the gym and bringing machines to lift the weights for you. It will do the job, but it will also rob you of the benefits of the work it’s doing.

Using AI is a Matter of Integrity

Sometimes it’s okay to use AI. Other times, using AI can mislead others into thinking that we did the work. I think Tim Challies gets it right: use it, but disclose it. If you’re allowed to use AI for a particular purpose, be open about the fact that you’ve used it.

AI Doesn’t Give Us What We Need Most

We were made for relationships with others and with God. As Andy Crouch says, we were “born with the capacity for love, eyes wide open, looking for a face,” and this is how we will die. God made us to love, explore, create, and care. All of these are deeply human endeavours that can only be outsourced to machines at great cost.

Only humans are able to love, sacrifice, and worship. These are the qualities we need to cultivate most in our lives, and to receive from others, and machines can’t help us.

In other words, AI is a powerful technology, but it can never give us what we need most, and it can never replace what it means to be deeply human.

Use AI if you’d like, with limits. It can be a powerful tool. But with your eyes wide open, and never surrender to the gradual disempowerment of strength, mind, heart, and soul.

If you’re interested in reading more on AI, I’m currently reading 2084 and the AI Revolution, Updated and Expanded Edition: How Artificial Intelligence Informs Our Future. It’s a good one!

Adapted from a weekly note I send to the church where I serve as pastor

Curated links for your weekend reading:

Drowning in Words, Parched for a Word From God

Nobody knows exactly when, but not long ago, or not long from now, the total written output of AI large language models will surpass the total written output of human beings for all time.

Reversing the Damage of Internet Reading

There have been a number of studies that have proven that the Internet is re-wiring the brain.

What Unique Platform Has God Given You to Glorify Him?

No matter who you are, God has given you your physical and mental and spiritual gifts to provide you a platform from which to draw attention to Him.

The Porn Buster

The key to addressing it is not simply removing access to unnecessary devices, installing Covenant Eyes on phones, or providing accountability.

The Slow Drift of Sexual Intimacy in Marriage

This is the slow drift of sexual intimacy, and it is far more common in marriages than we like to admit.

What the Spurgeon Family Scandal Teaches Us About Failure

The Spurgeon family scandal offers valuable lessons on the nature of failure.

Keeping Faith in Summer

Many of the weekly rhythms which, from September to June, stabilize our times of Bible reading, prayer, and reflection, begin to lurch.

Pastoral Time Guilt

Our greatest problem is not that we lack time but that we often fail to steward it according to God’s purposes.

My post at Gospel for Life: Spiritual Organization

Most of us blame our lack of spiritual consistency on weak discipline, but the real problem is that our lives aren’t intentionally organized with rhythms of communion, rest, and refreshment that make faithfulness sustainable.

Ironically, the older I get, the more I’m focusing on long-term plans.

Take my Big Idea Bible project. I started in 2021 and thought it would take seven years. Now I think it’s going to take me ten years, until the end of 2031, until I finish the first phase. Even then, I won’t be done. I want to refine my work and fill my paper Bible — the one I use all the time — with the best of my notes from each of my Scripture journals. I have other plans, too. I’ve never embarked on such a long-term reading plan before, and I’m loving it.

I have another, smaller project. In 2014-2015, and then again in 2018, I ran a lot of races. Then I got injured and stopped. Last year, I started running again. Last year, running felt mostly painful. I struggled through my half-marathon in October and didn’t feel good about it. This year, I ran an 10K in April, and for the first time in years, running felt good. I just completed another 10K, have another one soon, and another half-marathon in October. I’ve already signed up for another race next year. Running is more personal, and these goals are more short-term, but it’s helping me learn to sacrifice for goals that are months or more away.

Then there are the books I want to write. I have ideas. I am working hard at moving those ideas from ideas in my head to actual projects that will result in something on the page.

Only God knows if I will complete any of these projects. Sometimes I feel a bit foolish for taking on long projects like these, especially a ten-year project to work through the Bible. But if God wills, I want to do more hard things that take long periods of work but that will pay off more in the end.

In his book How to Begin, Michael Bungay Stainer argues that we get to complete one big project every five years. For most of us, even if we’re young, that means we don’t have very many big projects left. Rather than shrinking back and attempting only small plans, I think that means we should pick the projects that really matter and invest in them. Start now, because these projects will take a long time, and you have less time left than you think.

I thought about this the other day when I received a new biography of Spurgeon by Ray Rhodes. It’s almost 700 pages long, and I can’t wait to read it. I don’t know how long it took Rhodes to write it, but I know that it took far more research and time than many would be willing to give. The results, I believe, will bless more people than we could guess, both now and in generations to come. The book cost Rhodes a lot to write; the payoff will be even greater for all of us.

When you're young, you might think you have time for the quick and cheap things, like social media posts and AI-generated content, stuff that really doesn't matter. But even then, you have less time than you think.

A lot of things can be done quickly and cheaply, but they’re not the things that will last.

Think about the big projects you want to complete, the big books you want to read. There’s not much time left. Devote yourself to what’s costly and what lasts.

“A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they shall never sit.” Plant those trees. Some projects will only get done with a long timeline and lots of effort before the results are ever seen. The less time I have, the more I want to spend that time on the things that will last.

Big Idea: Because we’re needy and God is ready to help, keep praying and don’t lose heart, even if the answers take time.

I want you to imagine for a minute having a problem with a huge company: Air Canada, GM, or Visa. You need to get this problem solved. You have two options: you can call the free customer service number. They say your call is important, but it takes a long time and makes you more frustrated. Or, because you happen to be friends, you can call the CEO’s personal cell phone number and ask them to handle it. Which one will you choose? I’m going with the CEO every single time.

You probably don’t have the personal cell number of any CEO. But here’s the better news: right now, you have immediate access to the God of the universe.

Let that settle for a moment.

As Isaiah 40 says, this is the God who held the waters in his hand, measured the skies with his fingers, collected the dust of the earth easily, and weighed mountains and hills like they were tiny things on a scale. He sits above the circle of the earth—and we, impressive as we may feel, are like grasshoppers by comparison.

To him, all the nations are like a drop in a bucket, like a speck of dust on the scales. He stretches out the heavens like a curtain and spreads them like a tent to dwell in. He reduces princes to nothing and brings the rulers of the earth to emptiness.

And you have access to him. This God—the One with limitless power and unmatched understanding—knows you, cares for you, and invites you to come to him, any time, day or night. You have access to him, 24/7.

If this is true, and it is, why do we struggle so much with prayer? Why wouldn’t we constantly be asking God for help with everything we need?

That is the question that the parable that we just read forces us to ask and answer.

Praying While We Wait

We’re in a series on the parables, and unlike some of the other ones, we don’t have to guess what the point of this parable is. Luke tells us in verse 1: “And he told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart.”

Here’s one of the struggles we all face: we find it hard to pray. When we pray, God often seems quiet, and we start to lose heart. Discouragement creeps in, and over time, that discouragement causes us to simply stop praying.

That’s a real spiritual danger. Even dedicated believers can find it hard to keep a regular prayer life, especially when doubts about God answering grow bigger than our faith that he will. It’s easy to get discouraged in prayer, and we eventually just give up.

But I want you to notice the context of this story. While we all face the danger of giving up when it comes to prayer, there’s a particular danger that we face. At the end of Luke 17, Jesus taught that he will one day come back to this world and set things right. In Revelation 22:20, Jesus said, “Surely, I am coming soon.” In Revelation, John responds, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” That was almost two thousand years ago. Since then, generation after generation has prayed this prayer, but Jesus has still not returned, and the world continues to get worse and worse. We continue to experience suffering, rejection, and injustice. It’s easy to lose heart as we continue to wait for Christ to return, especially when life gets hard.

In that context, Jesus tells a story.

The Story

Here’s the story. You have two characters, a problem, and a surprising solution.

First, the characters: a judge and a widow.

Take a look at the judge. Community courts were staffed by local, well-respected citizens. This was a man who would have been respected in his community, part of the elite. The problem: he lacked the two essential qualities for administering justice: he “neither feared God nor respected man.” According to Jesus in verse 4, he even bragged about it. This was especially dangerous because those seeking legal remedies typically had to offer substantial bribes to get their way. This judge doesn’t care what God says, and he doesn’t care about what people think. He’s only in it for himself and isn’t bound by normal social pressures.

Then you have the widow. In the first century, when a husband died, his widow often lost the male protection and legal standing that had shaped her place in society. That made her exposed and easier to ignore.

Money was a major problem. Widows did not automatically inherit their husband’s property. They might get their dowry back, but many still ended up poor. With few acceptable ways to earn income, they were often left with no steady support.

Their options were limited. Some could remarry, return to their father’s home, or marry a brother-in-law. But many had no good option and had to depend on charity, often distributed through the synagogue.

That’s why the widow in Luke 18 is so vulnerable. She has no power, no influence, and no backup plan. The judge lacks fear of God or concern for people and likely anticipates an unpayable bribe, leaving her without leverage or hope for justice.

So what does she do? She keeps coming back. Verse 3 says she went to him again and again.

And this wasn’t a quiet courtroom like we picture today. In that setting, justice was often sought in a noisy, crowded public space—full of shouting, jostling, and competing voices. If she was going to be noticed, she had to be relentless.

She doesn’t flatter the judge or pad her words with polite titles. She simply pleads her case—repeatedly, loudly, and without backing down—until he’s had enough. In the end, he gives her what she wants, not because he cares about what’s right, but because he wants her gone. She wears him down, and he does whatever it takes to make her go away.

That’s the story. A powerless, vulnerable widow who can’t buy justice faces off against a corrupt, self-serving judge. With no leverage but persistence, she keeps pressing him until he grants her request simply to make her go away.

The Point

So what’s the point here? Three things.

Like the widow, we’re in need.

We are like the widow in at least two ways: we are genuinely needy, and there is often no immediate solution.

We are in need. We’re like the widow—no resources, no leverage, no backup plan. Our strength and stability are thinner than we admit; one phone call, one diagnosis, one loss can change everything. We face problems we can’t fix, burdens we can’t carry alone, and injustices we can’t set right by sheer effort. In a world that is under the influence of evil (1 John 5:19), Jesus tells us that a true Christian attitude is not to be self-reliant but to rely on him. When we stop feeling needy, we haven’t outgrown our need—we’ve just lost touch with reality.

There is another way we are like the widow: there is rarely an instant answer. Sometimes we pray and pray, and God does not respond on our timetable. In that delay, we are tempted to quit—to conclude that persistence is pointless, that hope is naive, that faith is only for easier seasons. That is why Jesus asks in verse 8, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” God’s faithfulness is certain; ours is not. When the pressure mounts and the waiting stretches on, will we keep coming to him, or will we slowly drift away?

So, in one sense, we really are like the widow: needy, and often waiting. And that need will do one of two things. It will either drive us toward God or cause us to walk away.

But here’s the second thing.

Unlike the judge, God is just and ready to hear us.

Here’s the most important thing to see in this story. God is nothing like the judge in this story.

The point of Jesus’ parable is not that we should think of God like this judge. That’s actually the very opposite of the point of this story. The point of this story is that we should understand that God is nothing like the unjust judge. In verses 7 and 8, Jesus says, “And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily.” (Luke 18:7-8).

Friends, your Heavenly Father is nothing like the unjust judge.

• You don’t ever have to wonder whether God cares about you and your predicament. He knows, and he cares.
• You don’t have to wonder about whether God hears you or not. God does hear you. He’s eager to hear from you. He loves to hear from you.
• You don’t ever have to wonder what God thinks of you. “You are the center of your heavenly Father’s affection” (Paul Miller). He cares for you. He is for you.
• You don’t ever have to wonder if God will give you justice and do right. You may need to be patient, but you can be confident that God hears you, and that God cares for you.

God’s readiness to hear us is grounded in what Jesus has done for us. We don’t come to him because we’re worthy, persuasive, or persistent enough; we come because Jesus Christ has reconciled us to God. Jesus was treated with injustice so that we could receive mercy; he was shut out so that we could be welcomed in; he bore our guilt so that we could be called God’s beloved. Because of Christ, we don’t approach God as strangers begging for a hearing. We approach him as children coming to a Father who has already proven His love.

I want you to hear this today. If you have turned to Christ in repentance and faith, God is for you. God isn’t like the unjust judge at all. It’s true that sometimes you can get justice even from an unjust judge. How much more will a loving, gracious God hear us and answer us with lovingkindness? Take heart. God is for you. His judgments towards you are based on his goodness and his love for you. So come to him, believing that he’s for you, and believing that he cares.

And that changes things for us.

• The widow was helpless, with no one to defend her. Those in the kingdom of God have a helper. God himself has promised to defend us.
• The widow has no husband. She is alone. Those in the kingdom of God are married to God himself. He loves us. His heart is for us. We will never be alone.
• The widow faces insurmountable odds. She isn’t sure that the judge will give her justice. Those of us in the kingdom of God never have to wonder if God will give us justice. We know that God will do right in the end.

Like the widow, we come to God needy and often without an immediate solution in sight, praying through problems we can’t fix. But unlike the judge, God is just, attentive, and eager to hear us so we’re never truly alone.

But here’s the main point that Jesus makes in this passage:

Because of our need and God’s willingness to help, we should pray.

Luke tells us the point of the parable up front: Jesus told this story “so that they ought always to pray and not lose heart.”

Here’s what happens to us: when we feel our need and don’t get an immediate answer, we’re tempted to quit.

Our need + no answer (yet) = we lose heart and stop praying

But Jesus wants us to see something else: our need isn’t the problem—forgetting who God is is the problem. When we remember that God is good, just, and ready to hear his people, need doesn’t lead to prayerlessness; it leads to persistence.

Our need + God’s willingness = persistent prayer

Here is what this story tells us: Because we’re needy and God is ready to help, keep praying and don’t lose heart, even if the answers take time.

We began with an example: you can wait on the phone with customer service, or if you know someone, you can call the CEO directly, the one person who can really help. Jesus has made us family with him. Right now, the Spirit is praying for you when you are weak. He helps you when you don't know what to pray. Jesus says you will have real needs, but you don't have to struggle alone. You have direct access to the God of the universe.

And God is not like the unjust judge. You don’t have to wear him down. If you are with Jesus, you approach a loving Father who listens to you and always does what is right—now and in the end, fully.

So don’t lose heart when there’s a delay. Don’t stop praying. While we wait for Jesus to come back and fix everything, we keep coming—day and night—because our God is fair, our God is close, and we can always talk to him.

Curated links for your weekend reading:

How AI Calculators Become Our Companions

Technology is more than efficient — it's ecological — changing its users and our society according to its design.

Writing by Hand Is Good for Your Brain — Here's How to Do It

When you write things down by hand you’re recruiting more of your brain, which is a good thing.

My column this week at TGC Canada: What Does a Pastor Do All Week?

While a pastor’s most visible work is the sermon, their hidden work is people.

Last week I listened to a podcast episode about what it’s like to be an airport CEO.

During the interview, the CEO shared something that caught my attention. As part of redesigning the airport, she had to hire an architect, and the airport received 20–30 proposals. Almost immediately, they set aside the submissions that centered on the firm’s own credentials and prestige. They weren’t looking for an architect who wanted to showcase a signature style or reproduce an airport that could go anywhere. They sought a partner who understood Pittsburgh's unique needs and culture, and was committed to meeting the community's operational demands.

One line in particular stayed with me: “We do not want an architect to build their airport in Pittsburgh. We want an architect to build Pittsburgh’s airport.”

I enjoyed the entire interview, and the podcast as a whole is one I like. But that quote also got me thinking about pastoral ministry.

When a church looks for a pastor, it doesn’t need someone who’s going to build a ministry at that church. It needs someone who will pastor that church. It needs someone who understands its people, carries its burdens, and is committed to serving its particular calling and context. There’s a big difference between these two approaches to ministry.

I’ve made plenty of mistakes as a pastor, but one of the biggest, especially in my early years, was treating pastorates as platforms to establish myself and my ministry. I saw my first church as an arena: a place to preach, prove myself, and advance to the next opportunity. I did love the church, but my love was mixed with ambition. And that selfishness, however subtle, made me a lesser pastor than I should have been.

I wish I could say that ended with my first ministry. Sadly, it didn’t. We’re never completely free of ego and self-promotion. The drift toward self can be quiet, gradual, and hard to detect, until we look back and see it for what it is.

But when ministry becomes less about the pastor and more about how the pastor can serve the church, something beautiful begins to happen. We become what Jesus calls us to be: servants. We take up the towel. We learn again that leadership in the kingdom looks like foot-washing.

Instead of assuming the church is privileged to have us, we begin to realize how privileged we are to serve the Lord in this way. We also learn to get out of the way, to make room for others to serve, to grow, and to use their gifts. Ministry stops being about our name, our ego, or what we feel we need to prove. It becomes about faithfulness to the calling God has given us.

So don’t go to a church to build your ministry. Go because you want to build their ministry. Serve. A pastor’s ministry should never be about how great he is; it should always be about how great Jesus is, and how, by his grace, the pastor can lovingly serve the church that Christ has entrusted to him.

Big Idea: Earthly comfort without Christ is spiritual bankruptcy.

I have a problem, and I’m guessing you do too. I really like nice things.

A couple of times, we’ve been able to stay at really nice hotels. I’m talking about five-star hotels. I love the feeling of luxury, of the extra service, the custom finishes, the feeling that you’re experiencing something above how you normally live. When I stay in a rundown hotel, I have to work to adjust. But when I stay in a luxury hotel, I spend zero time adjusting. It all comes so naturally to me.

A few weeks ago, we were driving home from church. I noticed the car in front of me is a Maybach. I’d never heard of that before, so I looked it up. Maybach is a German luxury car brand owned by Mercedes-Benz. That car we saw probably sold for a quarter of a million dollars. I looked it up. Apparently you feel like a celebrity — like entering a private lounge that happens to move. Again, I don’t think it would take much to get used to driving one of these vehicles.

I have a problem: I really like nice things. I can’t afford them, but I like them. So what’s the problem with that? The story we just read provides the answer, and I think it’s going to challenge every single person in this room.

Two Characters

In Luke 16:19 to 21, we’re introduced to two characters.

First, we’re introduced to a rich man. Verse 19 says, “There was a rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day.” We learn three things about this man:

• He was rich. He had lots of money.
• He could afford the best clothes. Jesus mentions two pieces of clothing. The first is purple. Purple was extremely expensive and functioned as a marker of elite status. The dye came from a tiny mollusk found along the Phoenician coast, and extracting it required such intensive labor that only royalty and the wealthy could afford garments dyed in this color. The choice to wear purple wasn’t incidental; it was a deliberate public declaration of his wealth and social position. Underneath, he wore fine linen, the most expensive imported Egyptian underwear, the most delicate and most expensive fabric known to the ancient world. Even his undergarments were marked by comfort, softness, and expense.
• We also learn about this diet. He “feasted sumptuously every day.” Most people in his world lived on simple staples: bread, soup, maybe fruit. A feast was the kind of thing you expected at a wedding or a once-in-a-while celebration. But for this man, celebration wasn’t occasional; it was routine. He ate like a connoisseur, enjoying the finest food not as a rare treat, but as his everyday normal.

He had everything we tend to want: security, comfort, freedom, and prestige. That’s the first character. Then we’re introduced to the second.

And at his gate was laid a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who desired to be fed with what fell from the rich man’s table. Moreover, even the dogs came and licked his sores. (Luke 16:20-21)

The first character is nameless in Jesus’ story, but this character has a name: Lazarus. And he couldn’t be more different.

• He’s poor, not rich.
• He was laid there, implying that he’s unable to move himself. It’s possible that friends laid him there, expecting he could get some help from the rich man.
• He’s covered in sores, and he has dogs licking those sores. In Palestinian Jewish culture, dogs were seen as dirty scavengers, like rats. Their tongues would have hurt his sores, so their presence was more of a pain than a comfort. It would have also made him ceremoniously unclean.
• He’s hungry. The rich man enjoys the best of food; this poor man longs to be a scavenger enjoying the rich man’s garbage once the feast is over.

One man has everything. The other man has nothing. Who would you rather be? I don’t think there’s a doubt. Given the choice between an affluent life and abject poverty, I don’t think there’s a person here who would choose to be like Lazarus.

The Extended Timeline

But what if you extend the timeline? That’s what Jesus does in verses 22 to 31.

The poor man dies. There’s no mention of a funeral or a burial. He was destined for a pauper’s grave at best. But in verse 22, we read that angels carry him to Abraham’s side. This is a complete vindication and reversal of Lazarus’s earthly status. Though he was invisible and abandoned in life, divine beings attend to him in death, affirming that God witnessed his suffering and honors his faithfulness. He is welcomed into fellowship with Abraham himself.

The phrase “Abraham’s side” carries particular cultural weight. In a banquet setting, the most honored seat was nearest the host, reclining so closely that one’s head could rest near his bosom. Lazarus, then, occupies the place of highest honor and intimacy.

He goes from poor to rich, from unknown to recognized, from excluded to included. It’s a complete reversal.

What’s just as shocking is what happens to the rich man. Verse 22 says he dies and is buried. We can assume he had a lavish funeral appropriate for a man of his social class. As a rich man, he may have been buried in an elaborate tomb. But then everything changes.

He enters Hades. In Jewish understanding, this is where the spirits of the dead went to reside. But it is not a nice place. He’s tormented. The rich man experiences torment with flames and unquenchable thirst. He is suffering, very thirsty, and "in agony in these flames." He can see Abraham from where he is buried, which adds to his pain. He knows what he has lost but cannot reach it. Not only is he suffering in hell, he can see heaven, and he can see Lazarus there.

This is a complete reversal. The point is clear: a beggar—once sick and hungry, with no earthly pretensions—becomes rich in eternity. Lazarus is known by name. He is helped and comforted. The rich man—once healthy, wealthy, and enjoying the finest things in life—now suffers the worst torment in death, his last requests denied.

Now who would you rather be? Jesus is making a point. If you take the short view, a luxurious life of comfort looks really good. But if you take the longer view, being rich isn’t about earthly comfort. It’s about having what matters eternally, and can’t be taken away. Eternal rewards far outweigh earthly luxuries.

Every Request Denied

What really lands in this story is the finality of the rich man’s spiritual poverty. He makes two requests, and both of them are denied.

The First Request

Request one in verse 24: “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.”

He still thinks that his former position counts for something. He still makes requests like he’s in charge. He was so used to power in his old life and the clout his money gave him that he acts as if things are unchanged even in Hades. He does not repent and thinks that he can order Abraham to send Lazarus to be his lackey. This detail reveals that he recognized Lazarus and knew his name! He could not have been unaware that Lazarus was lying at his gate. Though he never spared a thought for Lazarus’s needs during his lifetime, the rich man, self-centered even in death, thinks he should minister to his suffering now. He asks Abraham to send the poor man on an errand, like he still has the power to call the shots and to boss people around. But none of that works anymore. His worldly advantages don’t count for anything in eternity.

The reply comes:

Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us. (16:25-26)

We learn a couple of important things here, things of eternal importance.

First, God’s kingdom involves profound reversal. In this life, the man had a lot of money, and that isn’t the problem by itself. The problem is what he did with it. His spending revealed his heart: he used his wealth for himself instead of letting it become a means of loving God and loving others, and that had eternal consequences. Few things reveal our spiritual condition like how we use our money.

He was rich, but when you strip the money away, there’s nothing left. He is exposed as financially wealthy but spiritually bankrupt, and that bankruptcy cost him everything. He wasn’t prepared for eternity.

It’s as if Abraham is saying, “My son, you had your good things. But your good things were temporary. Now they’re gone, because in eternity I am the only good thing that lasts forever. And now you’re left hollow, gnawing in the dark, drowning in self-pity, filled with emptiness. That emptiness begins even now. It’s the beginning of hell.”

Friends, our deepest poverty is met in Christ, and our truest riches are found in him. When Jesus is our main thing, not just someone who helps with our good things, we can let go of our comfort, face suffering without losing hope, and use what we have for lasting purposes. If you have Jesus, you have everything, even if you have nothing. If you have everything but don’t have Jesus, you have nothing.

There’s also a sobering truth here: our eternal destiny is final. The chasm is not temporary or negotiable—it is fixed by God and cannot be crossed in either direction. No one from the place of comfort can come to help, and no one in torment can escape.

That finality is underscored by the rich man’s unanswered requests. He asks for relief, then for a warning to be sent to his brothers, but both pleas are denied. The chasm doesn’t just separate locations; it seals outcomes. Choices made in this life carry consequences that death does not undo.

Verse 26 presses the point home: eternity is not a second chance, but the confirmation of what we have chosen in time.

God’s kingdom brings a great reversal: many who are rich in this world will be exposed as spiritually poor, while those who seem poor now may prove eternally rich. Christ alone is lasting treasure. And when death comes, our destiny is fixed—there’s no second chance to rewrite what we chose in this life.

The Second Request

But then there’s the second request in verses 27 and 28: “Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.”

Abraham replies that Moses and the prophets are enough.

But the rich man keeps arguing in verse 30. “No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.” Again, the response: “If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.”

This teaches us something crucial: Scripture is sufficient. The rich man thinks that a miracle would work better than words from the Bible, but Abraham's answer shows the opposite. People who ignore the clear message of the Bible won't be swayed by amazing signs, no matter how fantastic they are. The problem isn’t a lack of evidence; it’s a hardened heart that won’t yield to what God has already spoken. The barrier to salvation is not the absence of proof, but the refusal to respond to the truth already given.

What’s the Point?

So what’s the point of this parable? It’s not that wealth is automatically sinful. The point is this: earthly comfort without Christ is spiritual bankruptcy, and many people won’t realize it until it’s too late. That’s why the time to respond isn’t someday. It’s now.

If we’re honest, we all feel the pull of comfort. We like security. We like options. We like having enough—and then a little more. But the more we build our lives around what we have and what we want, the more exposed we become to real danger. We can possess every earthly advantage and still be spiritually empty. Yet if we have Jesus, we are not lacking; we are truly rich.

Our deepest poverty is met in Christ, and our truest riches are found in him. Through the gospel, Jesus has given us something that is more valuable than anything else and that can never be taken away. Jesus isn’t simply a way to upgrade our lives; he is the treasure. He is the only “good thing” that lasts forever. The rich man spent his days gathering comforts that couldn’t follow him past the grave. But Christ gives what death can't take, what pain can't steal, and what time can't wear away: lasting joy, safe security, and a kingdom that won't fall.

So the invitation today is both simple and urgent: don’t waste your life chasing temporary “good things.” Come to Jesus. If you have much, hold it loosely and steward it gladly for eternal purposes. If you have little, don’t despair—because in Christ you can be truly rich. And don’t measure your life by what you can enjoy right now, but by who you belong to forever.