BIBLE LIBRARY

A Year Held in His Hands| A New Year Sermon

Image
A Year Held in His Hands| A New Year Sermon Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash Every time a new year comes close, something in me start feeling that weird mix of excitement and heaviness. Maybe you know the feeling too—like you’re standing at this invisible doorway. One foot in the old year (the stuff you want to forget but somehow still sticks to you like stubborn glue), and the other foot stepping into something you still can’t see clearly. And sometimes you’re hopeful, sometimes you’re scared, sometimes you’re… well, both at the same time. I was thinking about all that while reading some Scriptures again, and honestly, it hit me harder this year. Maybe because life been kinda loud lately, or maybe because I’m tired of pretending everything always makes sense. But the Bible does this thing, right? It sneaks into the parts of your heart you thought you cleaned up, and suddenly you realize God is trying to talk to you again. Even if it feels like you weren’t exactly listening. S...

Luke Chapter 19 – Commentary and Bible Study Reflection

Luke Chapter 19 – Commentary and Bible Study Reflection

Photo by Michael Hamments on Unsplash


Luke 19 is a chapter full of drama, hope, tension, and preparation. We see Jesus on His way to Jerusalem, and it’s not just a casual trip. It’s the march toward the cross, though many around Him don’t yet realize what’s about to happen. This chapter gives us pictures of transformation (Zacchaeus climbing a sycamore tree), responsibility (the parable of the minas), and also sorrow (Jesus weeping over Jerusalem). There’s also that bold act of cleansing the temple. It’s like the closer He gets to His final week, the more intense the scenes become.

I want to go through this chapter step by step, but not in a stiff, academic way. More like sitting around a table with a cup of coffee and opening the Word together, pointing out things that hit me, asking questions, maybe even wandering into a small story from life that somehow makes sense with the verses. That’s how the Bible often works—it speaks right into daily living.


Zacchaeus and the Sycamore Tree (Luke 19:1–10)

So here comes Jesus entering Jericho. And there’s Zacchaeus, a tax collector. Not just any tax collector, but chief of them. These guys were rich, often corrupt, and very unpopular. Imagine being known as the one who works with the enemy (Rome) and also skims money off your own people. No wonder folks hated tax collectors.

Zacchaeus was short. That detail makes me smile every time. Scripture didn’t have to mention it, but Luke does. I picture this little man trying to see over a tall crowd, maybe bouncing on his toes, but it’s no use. So he does something that probably looked pretty silly for a wealthy man—he climbs a sycamore tree. There’s something childlike in it, desperate but kind of humble too.

And then the shocking twist: Jesus stops right under that tree, looks up, and calls him by name. “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for today I must stay at your house.” Notice, Jesus doesn’t ask if He can come over. He says “must.” It feels like divine appointment. Like this day was planned since forever.

The crowd grumbles. Of course they do. Why go to the sinner’s house? Why honor a man like that? But Zacchaeus responds with joy. He welcomes Jesus gladly and then announces he’s giving half his possessions to the poor and repaying anyone he cheated fourfold. That’s radical. That’s not just feeling bad—it’s repentance with action.

And Jesus says those famous words: “Today salvation has come to this house… for the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost.”

I think about how many of us are like Zacchaeus. Not necessarily tax collectors, but curious, maybe climbing in awkward ways just to catch a glimpse of Jesus. And Jesus notices. He knows our name. He calls us down, not to embarrass us, but to meet us personally. That changes a person.

Funny story: I remember as a kid, we had this old mango tree in my grandmother’s backyard. My cousins and I would climb it to pick fruit, but sometimes we just climbed to watch the world. Reading about Zacchaeus always brings back the smell of mango leaves, the sticky sap on my fingers, and the nervous thrill of being up high. That’s what I imagine—Zacchaeus perched awkwardly, heart pounding, and then suddenly Jesus’ eyes meeting his. What a moment.


The Parable of the Ten Minas (Luke 19:11–27)

Right after that scene, Jesus tells a parable. Why? Because the people thought the kingdom of God was about to appear immediately. They imagined power, freedom from Rome, thrones and glory. But Jesus wants to shift their expectations.

He tells the story of a nobleman who goes to a distant country to receive kingship, then return. Before leaving, he gives ten servants ten minas (a sum of money), telling them to “put this money to work until I come back.”

When he returns, some have been faithful and multiplied the money. One earned ten more, another five. They’re rewarded with authority—ten cities, five cities. But one servant just hid the mina in a cloth, too afraid to risk it. He’s rebuked as lazy and stripped of what little he had. Then Jesus ends with a chilling line about enemies who didn’t want him as king being slain.

It’s a heavy parable. What’s it saying? At the core, it’s about responsibility and readiness. While Jesus is away (ascended to heaven), we are entrusted with something—our lives, our gifts, our opportunities. He expects us to use them, not hide them. Faithfulness, not fear, is the call.

And notice the reward isn’t luxury but responsibility—ruling cities. It’s almost like faithfulness now trains us for greater responsibility in God’s kingdom later. That thought excites me but also makes me pause. Am I hiding any “mina” because I’m scared?

I’ve known people who say, “I’ll serve God when I have more time, when I’m older, when I’m done with school or work.” But life passes fast. If we wait, we might bury the very thing God asked us to use.


The Triumphal Entry (Luke 19:28–40)

Now comes the famous ride into Jerusalem. Jesus tells two disciples to fetch a colt, one that’s never been ridden. He knows exactly where it is. It’s another sign of His authority. They bring it, and Jesus rides into the city.

Crowds spread cloaks on the road, wave palm branches, and shout blessings: “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

This feels like a parade, but it’s not quite what the people imagine. They think King Jesus is here to overthrow Rome. They’re ready for a political savior. But Jesus is coming as a humble King, riding not a war horse but a young donkey.

Some Pharisees tell Jesus to quiet the crowd. His answer is powerful: “If they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” Creation itself recognizes the King.

This passage always gives me chills. I picture the sound of hooves on the stone path, the air buzzing with excitement, the smell of dust and palm leaves crushed underfoot, voices shouting in rhythm. And Jesus rides calmly, fully aware He’s heading not to a throne but to a cross.

It’s a reminder that praise can be loud and joyful, but the real victory of Jesus looks different than human expectations.


Jesus Weeps Over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41–44)

And then the tone shifts. As Jesus approaches Jerusalem, He stops and weeps. This isn’t a quiet tear; it’s deep sorrow. He looks at the city and says, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes.”

He predicts the city’s destruction—enemies will surround it, tear it down, and not leave one stone on another. This came true about 40 years later in AD 70, when Rome destroyed Jerusalem.

But the heart of this moment is Jesus’ grief. He longs for the city to know peace, to recognize Him as Messiah. Instead, they’re blind to it.

There’s something personal here too. How often do we miss the things that make for peace because we’re distracted, stubborn, or too focused on other dreams? And I think of Jesus’ tears—He’s not cold or detached. He feels. He aches for people who reject Him.


Jesus Cleanses the Temple (Luke 19:45–48)

Finally, we see Jesus enter the temple courts. Instead of gentle teaching, He drives out those selling and says, “My house will be a house of prayer; but you have made it a den of robbers.”

It’s bold, almost violent. He’s cleansing what has been corrupted. The temple, meant to be holy, had become a marketplace. People were exploiting worshippers. Jesus confronts it head-on.

Afterward, He teaches daily in the temple. The chief priests and teachers of the law want to kill Him, but they can’t because the people are hanging on His words. That phrase—“hanging on His words”—is beautiful. There’s hunger in the crowd, even as the leaders plot.


Reflection: What This Chapter Says to Us

Luke 19 feels like a journey in itself. From Jericho to Jerusalem, from a sinner’s house to the temple courts, we watch Jesus move closer to His mission. A few themes stand out to me:

  1. Transformation is possible – Zacchaeus shows us that even the most despised person can be changed when they meet Jesus. No one is too far gone.

  2. Faithfulness matters – The parable of the minas reminds us that God gives us responsibility, and He expects us to live boldly, not fearfully.

  3. Jesus is King, but a different kind – The triumphal entry shows us that His kingdom isn’t about politics or force but humility and sacrifice.

  4. Jesus feels deeply – His tears for Jerusalem reveal a Savior who longs for people to know peace.

  5. God’s house is sacred – The cleansing of the temple warns us against turning worship into self-interest.

When I read this chapter, I can almost sense the tension building. The crowds are cheering, leaders are scheming, disciples are probably confused, and Jesus is steady, walking toward the cross.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Psalm 16 – A Deep Dive and Detailed Explanation

Homosexuality: What Does the Bible Say?

Palm Sunday Sermon: A Detailed Explanation and Reflection