John 17:1-11, 1 Peter 4:12-14

Every year, a local community garden invited the neighbourhood to plant a plot. Early in the spring, the registration line was always out the door. People arrived with bright visions of the harvest— tomatoes, lettuce, and strawberries. They happily signed up, dreaming of the abundance they would soon take home to their dinner tables.

For the first few weeks, the garden was full of laughter and excitement. But as the season deepened, the reality of the garden shifted. The scorching summer sun arrived. Weeds began to choke the soil, requiring backbreaking work on hands and knees for hours.

Slowly, the garden grew quiet. Many who had joyfully signed up for the harvest stopped showing up when the dirt got under their fingernails and the heat became uncomfortable. They loved the concept of the harvest, but they were entirely unprepared for the cost of cultivation.

We, as Christians, often approach our faith journey much like those eager garden people. We flock to the beautiful, triumphant promises of God. We expect and enjoy God’s blessings, protection, comfort, and the glorious assurance of heaven. But we often live with an unspoken assumption that the Christian life is supposed to be one long, comfortable concert.

This story points to the theme of one of the readings for today, the first letter of Peter, chapter 4. Let me read a couple of verses for you. “My dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful test you are suffering… Rather be glad that you are sharing Christ’s sufferings, so that you may be full of joy when his glory is revealed.”

When hardships come, we often feel like God has abandoned us, but Peter flips this thinking completely on its head, showing that suffering is actually a normal part of the Christian life, and something that unites us deeply with Christ and with humanity.

We must change how we look at hard times. Instead of seeing suffering as a human tragedy, Peter states that it is a purposeful test, which is a sacred discipline that eventually refines us and proves that our faith is real. I agree. Christian suffering is not a sign of defeat or weakness. It is a badge of discipleship. It is something we should wear with holy pride.

The English word ‘witness’ actually shares its roots with the ancient Greek word martys—from which we get our modern word, ‘martyr.’

Today, witness simply means sharing what you have seen or believed. But in the early centuries of the Christian community, especially under the brutal and harsh rule of Roman emperors like Nero, the two concepts were inseparable. “If you witness your Christian faith, you’re in big trouble; your entire family is in trouble.” Back then, if you publicly witnessed to your faith in Christ, it almost guaranteed that you would face imprisonment, torture, or even death.

But not anymore in this modern world… though there are some countries that ban witnessing your faith publicly.

I came across a story regarding how easy we hide our Christian identity in public.

For years, a Christian businessman shared a quiet office space with a close colleague. They were an excellent team—managing high-stakes projects impeccably, developing close friendship between themselves. To the colleague, this person was simply a kind, reliable, and thoroughly modern professional.

But there was a massive, vibrant world inside this believer that the office knew absolutely nothing about. On Sundays, he was a pillar of his church community—leading prayer gatherings, mentoring youth, being a committed member. Yet, the moment he walked into work on Monday morning, he became a “silent Christian’ or ‘hiding believer.’

It wasn’t out of a fear of being killed when his faith was exposed. It was out of shame, uncomfortableness. Like many modern Christians at work or schools, he found it easier to keep his faith invisible to avoid social friction.

For example, when lunch conversations turned to morality or culture, he simply nodded, sipped his tea, and kept his thoughts to himself. He seldom spoke the name of Jesus, ensuring his faith never disrupted the smooth, comfortable surface of his working relationships.

Well, I think this is one of the most humiliating dilemmas about our modern Christianity. It shows how easy it is for us to divide our lives into two separate boxes. We live out a vibrant faith in private or within the safe walls of our church, but we remain completely invisible Christians in our everyday lives—at work, at school, and even with our own families.

Today, we live with a striking paradox. In our modern, Western world, we face no threat of arrest, no shadow of the gallows, and no fear of execution for what we believe. The threats of being believers have never been lower—yet our silence has rarely been greater.

Why is it that when the cost of witnessing was death, the early Church couldn’t be stopped, but now, when the cost is merely an awkward conversation, many modern believers choose to remain silent and invisible?

In the ancient world, the enemy was the Roman sword. But in the modern world, the enemy is the rolled eye, the cold shoulder, or being labelled as “intolerant” or “outdated.” We are terrified of social awkwardness. We prefer comfort over friction, so we choose to live and work as a silent Christian.

In John 17:11, Jesus says, “I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world…” He does not ask the Father to take his disciples out of the world, nor does He encouraged them to become silent or invisible within it.

In Jesus’ time and afterwards, to be “in the world” carried a strong sense of vulnerability all the time. To be in the world meant to be subject to its shifting cruel rulers and its physical dangers, and hostility coming from all direction.

By stating that Jesus is no longer in the world, but they are, Jesus is encouraging them to continue their mission of being witnesses to the gospel, no matter what, even in the absence of Christ, their master.

Friends in Christ, when we are in the church, we’re together celebrating our common faith and mission. But when we go back to the world, we are to continue our mission of being Jesus’ followers and witnesses, no matter what, even when it complicates our relationships or jeopardise our social life.

Friends, Jesus is still calling you and praying for you to be a living witness of His gospel and God’s kingdom within our broken world. If not you, then who could ever be? If not you, who else?

John 14:15-21

Over the last few weeks, we have been exploring several Gospel passages together. As a quick reminder, Jesus had just told His disciples that He would soon be leaving them, and this made them feel overwhelmed by fear and anxiety. That same sense of unease still lingers in the air in today’s reading from the Gospel of John, chapter 14.

Today, we are exploring a crucial moment in the lives of the disciples, who had spent 3 years with their Master. Just Imagine how wonderful it would have been to walk beside Jesus—to see His face and hear His voice in person.

I often hear people say that they would believe without hesitation if Jesus would only show Himself to them just once. They say, “All my doubts and unclarities would vanish once and for all.”

For three years, those disciples had a “physical companion.” When they were hungry, Jesus provided food. When they were afraid of a storm, He calmed the sea. Their faith was tied to a God they could see and touch everyday.

From the very moment Jesus called them by the shores of Galilee, they never left His side. Many believers at that time also shared the same desperate need to keep Him close. They would think, ‘As long as Christ is physically with me, I am safe, but without Him, I’d have been completely lost.’

We can see the same sentiment in John 11, where Martha and Mary greet Jesus after they lost their brother, Lazarus. They express the same heartbreaking refrain, “Lord, if you had been here earlier, my brother would not have died.” It’s the same outlook: “As long as Christ is physically with us, we are safe, but without Him, we are lost.”

On one hand, it reflects their absolute confidence in Jesus’ power to heal the sick and perform miracles; on the other, it reveals a belief that Jesus’ power was bound by time and physical presence.

They are not alone, in this 21st century, a lot of faithful Christian believers carry the similar faith sentiment. Maybe, some of you here this morning as well. You want to be closer to Christ, and that’s why you are here today.

Imagine the person who has been your constant shadow for years—the one who shared your meals, your secrets, and your life. Now, that person looks you in the eyes and says, ‘I am leaving, and you will never see my face again.’ And you are in awe and confusion, and you want to know why.

For the disciples, this wasn’t just a change in plans; it felt like the lights were being turned out on their world. Jesus made them even more confused by saying, “In a little while the world will see me no more, but you will see me. When I go, you will not be left all alone. I will come back to you.”

To make matters worse, Jesus tells us something truly surprising in the reading today: “It is actually better for you that I go away so that the Counsellor, the Helper, can come to you.” What is He truly trying to convey to us?

Well, we must admit that in our modern world, we rarely discuss the Holy Spirit. This is a natural tendency; we are often hesitant to talk about things we cannot see or scientifically prove. However, I am convinced that if we shift our focus to the presence and ministry of the Holy Spirit in our ordinary, everyday lives, our faith journey will become remarkably powerful and wonderful.

And there is a beautiful paradox in this focus: the invisible Holy Spirit produces the visible fruit in our lives— and that’s a beautiful blessing that we can tangibly share with people around us, and eventually our life itself will become a living proof of our faith.

The point is, by sending the Holy Spirit, God initiated a monumental transition in how He relates to the world and humanity. The invisible transforms the visible into the divine tools. And the “With Us” perspective becomes the “In Us” perspective. We are moving from a focus on Jesus beside us to the Holy Spirit within us. Presence is replaced by indwelling.

This transition explains why many modern believers feel lost or discouraged once they leave the sanctuary. When we rely too much on an external “worship environment” to feel connected to God, we miss the reality that the source of our strength, the Counsellor and the helper, is now living within us.

We often look for God in the atmosphere around us, forgetting that God already dwells within us. Worship isn’t about the environment we enter. True worship is about the One who lives inside us.

Imagine a person from two hundred years ago suddenly transported to your city today. You hand him a small transistor radio. He looks at it, turns it off, and hear nothing but silence.

But then, you turn the dial. Suddenly, the room is filled with a beautiful symphony coming from thousands of miles away. Did the music just appear? No, the music was already there, filling the room. They just didn’t have the internal receiver turned on to hear it.

When Jesus was on earth, He was like a single speaker in one room—they had to be near Him to hear Him. But the Holy Spirit is like the radio waves. He is everywhere, all at once, permeating our lives. We don’t need to see the “station” to know the broadcast is real; we simply need to tune our hearts to His frequency. The power is tangible, even if the source is invisible.

Imagine you are trekking through a dense, dangerous bush. You have two options. First, you can have a world-class guide walking ten feet in front of you. All you’ve got to do is to follow his footsteps, but if you lose sight of him, you are lost and terrified.

The second option is that the guide hands over to you a high quality walkie talkie, through which the guide constantly communicates with you. Now, you don’t need to look for his footprints. You know where to go and when to stop. You feel the path instinctively.

In many other Gospels stories, Jesus was the Guide walking in front. The disciples were constantly afraid of losing Him. But in today’s passage, Jesus promises: “I am going away but I’m going to put My ‘spirit’ inside you.”

Friends, by the presence of the Holy Spirit, we no longer have to worry about losing sight of a physical leader because the Leader now lives within us, directing our every step from the inside out.

The Holy Spirit is God’s presence living in our hearts. God is no longer a historical figure we read about, but a living reality with who we can communicate. You don’t have to travel to a specific mountain or a specific city to find Him. He is as close as your next heartbeat. The Spirit is now part of you like an instinct.

I believe God wants us to rely on the Holy Spirit within us as a second nature. But how do we achieve this? There is only one way to make that a reality. Think of it like operating a helicopter. For most of us, flying seems impossible. But if you dedicated years to learning and practicing, you would eventually become an experienced pilot, enjoying the freedom of the air. At that point, flying becomes an instinct—a part of who you are that you can use and lean on at any moment.

How will this new ‘instinct’ or ‘second nature’ change our lives? How shall this change our relationships at workplaces, homes or in church? If Jesus becomes our “inner guide” through the Spirit inside us, we become a part of Christ, and Christ becomes a part of us.

We are not just following behind Jesus, trying our best to keep up with no success. We are leaning and practicing again and again to allow His Spirit to think through our minds, love through our hearts, and serve through our hands. Christ is in us and we in him. We become one with Christ.

When Jesus says, “Because I live, you also will live” in verse 19, He is promising a shared life, not only in this life, but also the eternal one after this. We’ve never been alone. We’re not alone. And we will never ever be alone.

Our strength does not lie in our degrees, our fortunes, or even the visible promises coming from a successful life. Our true strength is the invisible power of the Spirit living and working within us.

Through this power, our lives—and the lives of our loved ones, our neighbours, and eventually the world—become God’s dwelling place. That is the moment your life becomes a ministry, and there is nothing in all the world that can destroy it.

Remember: God is in you, and you are in Him. Christ is not merely beside you; He is in you.

John 14:1-14

Many of us all know the very catchy tune, ‘Hakuna Matata’, from a Disney movie titled “The Lion King” in 1994. Hakuna Matata is a phrase in Swahili, meaning ‘No worries.’ The song was about a ‘problem-free philosophy and ‘no worries lifestyle.’

But when Jesus told his disciples, ‘Do not be worried,’ he wasn’t singing that catchy song about “no worries” or “forget your troubles. He was speaking to men whose worlds were about to be turned upside down. They feared that their new lives with the Lord were coming to a permanent end.

So, given their circumstances, they had every reason to be anxious. When he said, “do not be worried and upset”, it was actually a profound spiritual instruction in the face of real struggle.

We always must stay hopeful and positive since our good Lord holds our future in His hands. However, we also have to be honest: life often presents us with challenges that are genuinely heavy. And there are things in our lives that deserve our careful attention and concern, and sometimes that concern feels like anxiety.

When God told Noah to build a massive ark to prepare a flood upcoming, he didn’t just start sawing wood the next day. And when God called Moses to lead millions of people into the wilderness, he didn’t set out the following month. They wrestled with those callings—thinking about them day and night, and perhaps even worrying about them for months, or even years, before they finally took action.

When we’re facing a major challenge or a new direction in life, it’s so natural to feel helpless and even lost. In those circumstances, ‘Hakuna Matata’ sentiment should not work for us. What we need is to sit with it for a while. We might need to spend days or months thinking it through hard before we finally act. The Christian journey was never promised to be a trouble-free life; rather, it is about how we navigate those challenges with our faith.

So then, what exactly did Jesus mean when he told his disciples, ‘Do not be worried’?

Now, I’d like us to put ourselves in that room with them. It wasn’t a calm or comfortable setting. This was the Last Supper. What do we usually mean when we talk about a ‘last meal’? For many, the phrase points to the final meal provided to a prisoner before an execution. It is a meal defined by an ending in this life.

In that same way, the disciples sat at that table with a heavy heart. They knew there would be no more meals with their Master. This was the final chapter of their life with the Lord as they knew it. The mood was incredibly tense and anxious. 

Jesus had just told them he was leaving for good, and that their team leader, Peter, would soon deny him, and that one of them would sell him out for money. Jesus also told them he would be executed on a tree. Their world was literally falling apart.

He acknowledged their pain and fear, but he was also pointing them toward a truth that would be much bigger than their circumstances, the promise that was bigger than any problem they were facing at that moment.

Now, I want you to bring this story home to your own lives. How do you live this out when you face your own crises? If Jesus isn’t simply asking you to ‘be happy,’ what on earth is He actually calling you to do? The answer is found in Verse 1, and it’s a great news that still powerfully works in this 21’st century world. It reads: “Trust in God, and trust also in me.”

Friends, when facing the storm in your life, please don’t feel guilty for feeling worried. Jesus didn’t scold the disciples for their fear. Instead, He met them in it. It is okay to admit, “This is hard, and I am worried. I don’t know what to do.” But at the same time, please know this. In Hakuna Matata, the goal is to look away from the problem. But in today’s reading from John’s Gospel, Jesus tells you to shift your gaze. Jesus is calling you to look at Him.

When a serious decision or a painful loss weighs heavily on you, I invite you to practice what I call ‘Vertical Trust.’ Ask yourself: ‘I know this situation is beyond my control, but do I really trust the One who holds the future?’

After Jesus says that, he tells the disciples that He is going to the Father to prepare a place for them, so that they may be where He is. In response, Thomas asks one of the most universal and deeply human questions ever recorded: “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”

Jesus replies with those famous words: “Thomas! I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

For now, I’d like to reflect on Thomas’ question for a moment. It isn’t just a “religious” question; it is the fundamental question that humanity has been asking for centuries, across every culture and creed.

We all want to know how to “get there.” We want to know how to find the truth, how to experience a life of real meaning. We want to know where all this life leads us. We want to know where our ultimate destination lies.
The whole world is searching for a map. From politics, the economy, and religions to entire civilizations, they are all searching for a set of directions to navigate the overwhelming complexities of their existence.

But Jesus’ declaration to Thomas—and to us—is revolutionary. He essentially says: “You don’t need to know. You don’t need a map. You don’t need to master the mechanics of every problem or have a GPS for every trial. You just need Me. I am the way, the truth and the life.”

He isn’t just talking about a destination in the afterlife. He is talking about the reality of our lives right now. Jesus is telling us that we don’t have to find the “way” because the Way has already found us.

The message of today’s passage is simple but profound: “Stay close to Christ”. Stick to Him no matter what. Follow Him regardless of what happens around you. Our good God is far greater than our current reality, and our Lord is infinitely bigger than our biggest problems.

Apostle Paul describes it this way: “I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Paul was perfectly right. Troubles cannot hold back what belongs to God. Even death cannot kill what never dies. We belong to Christ. We are God’s children.

This week, when worry knocks on your door, don’t try to sing “Hakuna Matata”. Instead, shift your gaze. Look at Him and say: “Lord, I am troubled. My family is troubled, but I choose to trust in You.” Do not be worried and upset. Trust in God, and place that same trust in Christ. That is your mission, and your good God will do the rest. Amen!

Psalm 23

To begin the message today I want to briefly explain what the lectionary is. All of us here today come from many faith backgrounds, different practices and customs. Also, some are new to this church. I don’t want to assume that you are across what we do here and why. So bear with me for a minute.

At this church it is our practice to follow readings from the lectionary. The lectionary is a pre-selected collection of bible readings assigned to Sundays. It follows a three year cycle and over those three years it covers much of the bible.

The lectionary readings for any given Sunday usually include a reading from the gospels, an old testament reading, a psalm and a new testament reading other than the gospels.

This discipline opens the door for us to thoroughly explore the bible over the three year cycle and because the lectionary is followed worldwide by many Christian denominations it provides a sense of oneness. Hugh often says that people all around the world are hearing the same bible readings that we in Gungahlin are hearing each Sunday.

Usually the practice is to give the message based on the gospel reading. It is not compulsory, but it is the usual practice. Thus ends the lesson on the lectionary.

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Luke 24:13-35

There is a true story about a man in the United States, who bought an old, ugly painting at a local flea market. He paid just $5 for it, because he liked the frame, not the painting itself. He placed it on a bookshelf, where it sat untouched for years.

One day, he decided to take the frame apart to reuse it for a family photo. As he dismantled it, a piece of paper fell out from behind the canvas. It wasn’t just any paper; it was one of the 24 surviving original copies of the Declaration of Independence.

It later sold for over $2 million. For years, he had been holding a masterpiece in his hands without recognising its true value. He merely liked the frame that contained it. He valued the frame over the masterpiece.

This story serves as a powerful metaphor for our relationship with Christ. It reminds us that we often follow Christ for external blessings or emotional comforts rather than seeking and treasuring Christ Himself.

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