Luke 14:1, 7–14

The Gospel of Luke is sometimes called the “Gospel of the Table” because meals play such an important role in it. Jesus is often found eating with others, whether with tax collectors, Pharisees, or his disciples. These shared meals are never just about food—they become moments of revelation, teaching, and grace. In Luke’s world, who you ate with determined your status, and meals often reinforced social boundaries. But Jesus used meals to break those boundaries down, opening fellowship to those normally excluded. Hospitality is a central theme in Luke, pointing us toward the wide welcome of God’s kingdom. Today’s passage in Luke 14 illustrates this beautifully. Jesus is invited to a Pharisee’s home, and he uses that occasion to teach us about the posture of our hearts, the call to humility, and the radical hospitality of God’s table.

1. Jesus Sees Our Hearts at the Table
The Pharisees were watching Jesus closely, but Luke tells us that Jesus was also watching them. He noticed how guests chose the places of honor at the table, jockeying for recognition. Their actions revealed their hearts—seeking status, striving for approval, competing for the best seat. Jesus’ observation reminds us that our outward behaviors reflect inward attitudes. Where do we seek recognition today? Is it in titles, achievements, or influence? The table becomes a stage where the hidden motives of our hearts are made visible. But Jesus sees beyond appearances. He calls us to examine whether we are truly living for God’s honor or merely for our own.

2. Jesus Taught the Way of Humility
In response, Jesus tells a parable about choosing the lowest place. His teaching flips social expectations upside down. In the world, the way to greatness is to push ahead, climb higher, and secure recognition. But in God’s kingdom, greatness comes through humility. “All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” Humility is not false modesty; it is a posture of trust in God. It means we do not have to prove ourselves or fight for recognition, because our worth comes from God’s love. Jesus himself embodied this humility. As Paul would later write in Philippians, Christ emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, and was exalted by God. True honor is not seized but received as a gift from God.

3. Jesus Taught the Way of Hospitality
After speaking about humility, Jesus expands the lesson into hospitality. In his culture, meals often functioned as social contracts—you invited those who could repay you, ensuring your place in the web of obligations. But Jesus says, “When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.” He calls us to extend hospitality to those who cannot give anything in return. This is a radical vision, for it mirrors God’s own hospitality toward us. God has welcomed us through Christ not because of our worthiness, but because of His grace. We cannot repay Him. The kingdom of God is a feast where everyone—especially the excluded—has a place. At the Lord’s Table we see this vision fulfilled: rich and poor, honored and forgotten, sinner and saint, all come together, not because of merit, but because of invitation. The Eucharist is the sign that God’s hospitality is wider than we can imagine.

So what does this mean for us? First, it means allowing Christ to search our hearts—asking whether we are striving for our own honor or resting in God’s love. Second, it means practicing humility, not pushing to the front of life’s tables, but serving others and trusting God’s timing. And third, it means extending hospitality: opening our tables, our homes, our church doors, and our hearts to those who may never repay us. This is what it means to live as people of the kingdom. At the Table of Grace, we are all guests—and we are also called to become hosts, welcoming others with the same generosity that God has shown us. May we live as humble guests and gracious hosts, pointing the world to the great banquet of God’s kingdom, where there will always be room for one more.

Based on Luke 13:10–17

Introduction

This morning we meet a woman who has been bent over for eighteen years—nearly two decades of looking down, never seeing the faces of her loved ones, carrying shame and pain with her everywhere she went.

She wasn’t looking for Jesus. But Jesus was looking for her.

And in four simple movements, the gospel unfolds:

Jesus sees. Jesus calls. Jesus touches. Jesus frees.

That is not only her story—it’s ours.

1. Jesus Sees

Luke tells us: “When Jesus saw her…” That’s where it all begins.

The woman doesn’t shout out or push her way through the crowd. She had probably grown used to being overlooked. Some may have whispered that her condition was a punishment from God. She was invisible to them—but not to Jesus.

Friends, this is good news. Before we can ever call out to Him, Jesus sees us. He sees our hurts, our fears, our hidden struggles. He sees those whom the world ignores: the elderly who feel forgotten, immigrants navigating a strange land, the poor carrying heavy burdens, the young person battling anxiety.

And as His church, we are called to open our eyes as well. Who around us feels unseen? Who is bent over by life’s weight? Healing begins when we notice.

2. Jesus Calls

But Jesus does more than see—He speaks. “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.”

Notice what He does: He calls her forward in the middle of the synagogue. This woman, who had probably lived in the shadows, is brought to the center. She is given dignity and a voice.

Jesus not only sees us—He calls us by name. He doesn’t leave us where we are; He invites us closer.

And He calls us, His people, to speak life and hope into others. Think of the power of a kind word—an encouragement that reminds someone of their worth.

3. Jesus Touches

And His words are not empty—He reaches out with a touch. Jesus lays His hands on her.

The healing is not distant. It is personal, compassionate, embodied.

So many in our world are starved for kindness and genuine connection. Jesus touches us still—through prayer, through the sacraments of baptism and communion, through the caring hands of His people.

When we hug someone who is grieving, when we hold the hand of the sick, when we serve with love—we become the hands of Christ.

The church is not just a place of words, but of touch, presence, and care.

4. Jesus Frees

And His touch leads to freedom.

Immediately, the woman stands up straight and begins praising God. What a moment!

Jesus reframes the Sabbath here. The leaders are upset because He healed on the Sabbath, but Jesus insists: the Sabbath is about freedom, about restoration. What better day to set someone free?

At the heart of God’s kingdom is freedom—freedom from sin, from fear, from shame, from everything that bends us down.

Let me ask: what keeps you bent over today?

• Is it guilt from the past?

• Is it worry about the future?

• Is it a heavy burden you feel you can’t share?

Christ still frees us. And He calls us, His church, to join in His work of liberation—not binding people with more burdens, but setting them free.

Conclusion

The story ends in praise. The woman’s healing becomes worship.

This is the gospel in motion: Jesus sees. Jesus calls. Jesus touches. Jesus frees. And our response is thanksgiving.

Let us stand tall in God’s grace, and with the woman in the synagogue, lift our voices to praise God.

(Luke 12:49–56)

When most of us think about fire, our first instinct is to see it as something dangerous, destructive, or even terrifying. Fire consumes, destroys, and often leaves nothing but ashes behind. Yet, throughout Scripture, fire is also one of the most powerful and consistent symbols of God’s presence. Moses encountered God in the burning bush that was not consumed. The people of Israel was guided through the wilderness by a pillar of fire that assured them of God’s nearness. At Pentecost, the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples as tongues of fire, igniting the birth of the church. So, when Jesus declares in Luke 12:49, “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” He is not speaking of mere destruction. Rather, He is announcing that His mission is to bring the presence of God into the world in a way that cannot be ignored. God’s presence is never neutral. It is living and active; it purifies, judges, and transforms. This divine fire brings repentance, demands a change of direction, and brings renewal of life.

The first effect of God’s fire is its call to repentance. Just as fire reveals and purifies precious metal by burning away impurities, so too does the presence of God reveal what is false within us. When Christ draws near, our selfishness, pride, and sin come into the light. This is why John the Baptist declared, “I baptize you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” Repentance is not simply an option in the Christian life; it is the natural response to encountering the holy fire of God. Without repentance, we remain in darkness, clinging to habits and desires that pull us away from God. But when we confess our sins and open our hearts to His cleansing fire, something remarkable happens—we are made new. Repentance allows the fire of Christ to burn away the parts of our lives that do not belong, freeing us to live more fully in His grace.

Yet repentance is only the beginning. God’s fire does not simply call us to feel sorry for our sins; it demands a change of direction. The presence of Christ disrupts our routines and challenges our complacency. Jesus Himself warns in this passage that His coming will not maintain the status quo but will even divide families and unsettle old ways of living. That is because His fire compels us to choose: will we live for ourselves and the comforts of the world, or will we follow Him wherever He leads? This change of direction is not always easy. It may mean leaving behind old habits, confronting injustices, or stepping into unfamiliar callings. But it is also where life truly begins. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus who exclaimed, “Were not our hearts burning within us as He opened the Scriptures to us?” we find that God’s fire kindles passion, courage, and love within us. It stirs us to walk in a new way, guided by His Spirit rather than our own desires.

Finally, God’s fire does not only expose and disrupt; it also renews. In nature, fire clears away dead growth so that new life can take root. In the same way, the fire of God’s presence burns away what hinders us so that we may flourish in His Spirit. Renewal means more than survival—it is the gift of transformation. The Holy Spirit empowers us with wisdom, courage, and strength to live as witnesses of Christ’s kingdom. History shows that this fire has never been extinguished, even through centuries of persecution, trial, and change. Ordinary men and women, touched by the fire of God’s presence, have become extraordinary instruments of hope, compassion, and justice. Renewal through God’s fire is not just about individual hearts; it is about the ongoing vitality of the church, which remains alive because God continues to kindle His presence within it.

In conclusion, when Jesus says He came to bring fire to the earth, He is declaring His desire to kindle the very presence of God in our midst. That fire calls us to repentance, so that we may be cleansed of sin. It demands a change of direction, so that our lives align with God’s will rather than our own. And it brings renewal, empowering us to live with the boldness and joy of the Spirit. But the fire of God’s presence is not something we can keep at arm’s length. It is not comfortable, and it often requires us to change in ways we would not choose on our own. The question we face is simple: will we let the fire of Christ burn in us? Will we allow it to purify, guide, and renew us until His kingdom comes in all its fullness? May we have the courage to answer yes—and may our hearts be set ablaze with the fire of God’s presence. 

Some promises in Scripture almost sound too good to be true — but this one comes directly from the mouth of Jesus:

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”
(Luke 12:32, NRSV)

Imagine hearing that for the very first time. The Creator of the universe delights to give you His kingdom. Not rent it to you. Not loan it to you for a trial period. Not dangle it above your head until you prove yourself worthy. No — He gives it.

But that raises an important question: What exactly is the Kingdom of God? And if God has truly given it to us, how should that shape the way we live?

1. The Kingdom Is God’s Reign, Not Just a Place

When we hear the word kingdom, our imagination often fills with castles, walls, thrones, and banners fluttering in the wind. But in Scripture, the “Kingdom of God” is not primarily about a location. It’s about God’s rule and reign. It’s the reality of God being in charge.

Jesus makes this clear in Luke 17:21, when He says, “The kingdom of God is among you.” He wasn’t pointing to a geographic spot on a map. He was pointing to His own ministry — to the healing of the sick, the forgiving of sins, the welcoming of the outcast, the confronting of injustice. Every time God’s will is done on earth, the Kingdom is breaking in.

That means the Kingdom is not just about going to heaven when we die. It’s about God’s way being lived out here and now. Wherever God’s justice, mercy, and truth are made visible, the Kingdom is present.

2. The Kingdom Is a Gift, Not an Achievement

Jesus tells His disciples, “It is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” This is vital: the Kingdom is not something we earn. We don’t buy our way in. We don’t collect enough “spiritual points” to gain entry. It is given freely because it is in God’s nature to give good things to His children.

And because it’s a gift, it’s not fragile. It’s not something we must fear losing if we stumble. God’s generosity is not dependent on our perfection. That’s why Jesus begins with the words, “Do not be afraid.” Fear is the natural reflex of people who think everything depends on them. But the Kingdom flows from God’s joy, not our merit.

3. The Kingdom Is Already Here, but Not Yet Fully

Theologians often describe the Kingdom as “already and not yet.”

• Already: In Jesus, the Kingdom has arrived. The sick are healed, sinners are forgiven, the poor hear good news. God’s reign has already broken into the world.

• Not yet: We still await the day when the Kingdom will come in fullness — when God will wipe away every tear, when death and pain will be no more (Revelation 21).

We live in this in-between time. Our calling is to live now as citizens of the Kingdom, even though we still walk in a world that plays by very different rules.

4. The Kingdom Reorders Our Treasures

Right after verse 32, Jesus says: “Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out… For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

The Kingdom changes our value system. If God’s Kingdom is our greatest treasure, our heart will naturally follow that treasure. Kingdom citizens measure wealth not by what they keep, but by what they give. In God’s Kingdom, love is the currency, mercy is the investment, and justice is the return.

5. Living in the Kingdom Today

If the Kingdom is here and it’s God’s gift, then we are called to live like Kingdom people right now. That means:

• Choosing forgiveness over grudges.

• Serving before seeking status.

• Welcoming strangers as if they were Christ Himself.

• Practicing generosity as if our security comes from God, not our bank account.

These aren’t “extra credit” acts for super-Christians. They are the daily habits of people who know the King and trust His reign.

Conclusion

Jesus’ words in Luke 12:32 are tender: “Little flock.” He knows we are small, vulnerable, and sometimes fearful. But He also knows the strength of the Shepherd and the generosity of the Father.

The Kingdom is not a far-off dream or a prize reserved for the perfect. It is God’s reign — already breaking into our lives, given freely to His children, and destined to come in fullness.

So we can live without fear. We can invest in treasures that last forever. We can reflect the heart of the King wherever we go.