Lordship of Christ

When you drive north toward Ordos City in China’s Inner Mongolia province, you can’t miss the Mausoleum of Genghis Khan. The massive complex, rebuilt in the 1950s in the traditional Mongol style, houses genuine relics and is an important sanctuary for the shamanic worship of the legendary Mongol leader. But the Khan’s tomb is properly called a cenotaph—a monument to someone buried elsewhere—because it is empty.

While we can be certain his mortal remains are not there, we’re completely uncertain as to where they might be. And that’s odd. In life, he was the most powerful person on Earth. He was the Universal Ruler (“Genghis Khan”) of an empire that would eventually stretch from the Pacific Ocean into Eastern Europe, encompassing large swaths of present-day China, Russia, and the Middle East. Yet his grave is unmarked and remains undiscovered.

This is by design. Despite his exalted status, Genghis Khan retained the frugal, itinerant lifestyle of his youth, and indeed of most Mongols. So, it makes sense that he would want a humble, anonymous burial in his homeland. “Let my body die, but let my nation live,” he is supposed to have said.

Possible Preaching Angles:

1. Christ, Lordship of; King Jesus; Lordship of Christ – Many powerful kings have ruled over large parts of the earth. Many came from humble backgrounds and rose to greatness. Jesus, the true “universal ruler” also had a humble childhood and became the most powerful person on earth. He was also buried in a grave whose exact location is debated today. But the defining difference is that the King of Kings and Lord of Lords rose from the dead and reigns forever seated at the right hand of God.
2. Moses – The burial place of Moses is also unknown, but he was buried by God himself. (Deut. 34:5-6; Jude 1:9)
3. Final Judgment; Resurrection – Although the grave of Genghis Khan is unknown, hidden in the mists of history, God will still raise him up to stand at the final judgment. (Rev. 20:13)

Pastor John Yates III once worked for the British scholar and Bible teacher John Stott. Yates reflected on the time when Stott’s aging and disability started to slow Stott down. Yates says:

Stott spent the last 15 years of his life going completely blind. It began with a small stroke that knocked out the peripheral vision in his left eye, forcing him to surrender his driver’s license. And over the years that followed, this man who wrote more books during his lifetime than most of us will read in an average decade became unable to see the pages in front of him. But that wasn't all. His body grew increasingly weak. He needed more sleep. He was eventually confined to his bedroom.

I spent three years working closely with John when he was in his early 70s. I was in my mid-20s. It was absolutely exhausting. I've never been around another person with a capacity for work as fast as his. He was the most disciplined and efficient man I've ever known. But there he was, years later, now in his 80s and into his early 90s, with his mind as sharp as ever. But then he was unable to do much of anything, except to sleep, eat, and listen out his bedroom window for the call of a familiar bird.

Now I found this personally incredibly difficult to understand. Why would God allow a man like John to suffer the loss of precisely those faculties that made his life so meaningful and has worked so successful, if it just seemed cruel? It would have been better, I thought, for him to die or to suffer from Alzheimer's, because at least then he wouldn't have known what he was missing.

But then I finally begin to understand why John never seemed to complain. That's because God was giving him the gift of absolute dependence. God was showing him that he delighted to offer Stott a dependence on him.

Despite the presence of several acclaimed breweries, restaurants, and the last remaining Blockbuster video rental store in America, the town of Bend, Oregon features another illustrious tourist attraction garnering local attention – a giant rock.

The large rock, which locals refer to as the Big, Obvious Boulder (or BOB for short), is roughly three feet tall and three feet wide. It sits near the entrance to a parking lot, and gets attention when oblivious drivers collide with it and their vehicles require rescuing. Bob’s claim to fame is that it is a magnet for cars, which end up high-centered on the boulder and need to be rescued.

Not only is Bob itself often affixed with stickers and signs warning drivers, but it’s become something of a local phenomenon, with its own Facebook group. Former Bend resident Terry Heiser, claims to have had the first run-in with Bob back in 2002. He said:

It was about 9 p.m. on a weekday and I was heading downtown to meet some friends. I decided to stop in at 7-11 and I took the turn into the parking lot as I had done dozens of times. I wasn’t driving crazy or fast. It was just an innocuous turn and next thing you know chaos happens and my truck ended up on its side.

I had to climb out of the passenger window to get out. I immediately called my buddies and they came down with an even bigger truck to help get me off of Bob. It was such a stupid but hilarious accident that I haven’t lived down to this day.

You can view the famous boulder here.

Possible Preaching Angles:

1) Christ, life of; Stumbling; Stumbling blocks - In his lowly life and death, the person of Jesus Christ was also a stumbling stone. People overlooked his significance and stumbled to their harm. 2) Attention; Carelessness - As we go through the routine activities of life, it is important to stay focused on what lies directly before us. When we become distracted by more trivial affairs, we are more likely to experience trouble, misfortune, and/or heartbreak.

Jonathan Roumie is the actor who plays Jesus in the successful series The Chosen, which is based on the Gospels. Before landing the role of Jesus, Roumie had surrendered everything but his acting career to God. He had been living in Los Angeles for eight years, and he was nearly broke. Roumie said,

There was this one day during May of 2018. I woke up. It was a Saturday morning, and I was 100 dollars in overdraft. I had 20 dollars in my pocket. I had enough food to last a day. I had no checks in sight. I had no work in sight. I had maxed out my credit cards. I literally didn’t know how I was going to exist.

He kneeled and poured out his heart to God, asking him, “What happened?” He had been under the impression that God helps those who help themselves—he later realized that the Lord helps those who rely on him.

For years, my prayer was, “If there’s something else I should be doing, please show me what it is, because this is really hard,” I literally said the words “I surrender. I surrender.” I realized in that moment that in many other areas in my life, I had allowed God in. But when it came to my career, I thought, “I know better. I got this God, I’m the actor here. Don’t worry—it’s Hollywood; I know Hollywood, God.”

Roumie left his apartment and went for a walk to collect himself, buying a breakfast sandwich with the money he had left. Later that day, he found four checks in the mail. Three months later, Dallas Jenkins, the writer/director of The Chosen, called and offered him the role of Jesus.

If you thought the stringent requirements of your homeowner’s association were bad, don’t even think about relocating to Villas Las Estrellas. The small community is home to a group of mostly scientists. But instead of pledging to keep the grass trimmed to a certain length, potential adult residents must agree to a series of health-related screenings, including a willingness to have an appendectomy.

That’s because Villas Las Estrellas is a small remote village in Antarctica, where temperatures are extremely cold and civilization is far, far away. Residents must submit to a voluntary appendectomy because if their appendix were to burst, they would need immediate medical attention, and the nearest hospital is more than 600 miles away.

That said, living in the village is far from solitary confinement. The village contains a bank, a school, a post office, and other basic necessities. Tourists also come through for skiing and snowmobiling expeditions.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Becoming a disciple of Jesus means submitting everything we are--including our bodies--to Christ's lordship.

Christmas is the season of choice. If you want to buy a food processor, Amazon offers you 2,000 types. Or how about a drill—there are more than 40,000 options. No, I'm not making those numbers up.

Choices can be glorious, and confusing, and empowering, and overwhelming, all at the same time. And in the West today, it looks as though it is the same with God. There is a huge array of deities to choose from, including the "no to all" option.

Walk through an airport or shopping mall anywhere and you will be walking past countless people who believe in no God, plenty of people who (believe) that there are many gods, and another great multitude who believe in one God but who have very different thoughts on what that one God is like and what he (or she, or it) thinks.

For some, God is kind of a distant grandfather guy, looking down benevolently and wanting us to be happy. To others, God is a harsh taskmaster, counting up your good and bad actions and weighing up whether he's going to have mercy on you in the end. To others, God is an impersonal force that wound the universe up and is now off doing other stuff while we get on with it down here. To others, God is the universe.

There are so many options to choose from—it's empowering and overwhelming at the same time. How do you know? How can you choose? And what does it matter?

Isaiah's claim was that the baby who would be born at the first Christmas would be "Mighty God." …. For all that Israel needed, for all that they lacked, for all that they could never be in themselves, they had God: The great I AM. The Mighty God … a purifying, ever present, shepherding, providing, healing, defending God.

In an issue of CT magazine, Lisa Brockman shares her testimony of leaving the Mormon Church and became a born-again Christian:

As a sixth-generation Mormon girl, I believed that the Mormon Church was the one true church of God. I believed Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God. By age six, I was convinced that having a temple marriage and faithfully obeying Mormon laws would qualify me to spend eternity in the highest heaven—the Celestial Kingdom. There, I would exalt into godhood and bear spirit children. This was my greatest dream.

But there were temptations to resist. Throughout high school, Mormon friends of mine began drifting into the world of partying. Alcohol seemed to release them from the striving and shame that comes with performance-based love. For three years I resisted, feeling like a pressure cooker of unworthiness waiting to explode. As a senior, I gave up resisting, I jumped into the party world with the same passion I brought to the rest of my life, funneling beer without restraint.

Yet even as I felt liberated from Mormon legalism, I didn’t waver from believing that the Mormon church was God’s true church. During my freshman year at the University of Utah, I met Gary. Gary told me he was a born-again Christian—I’d never heard of one. For the first month of our relationship we avoided the subject. Then, on a wintry December day, Gary cracked open the door of this conversation.

Gary asked, “How do you know Mormonism is true?” I had never heard this question before. He continued, “Have you looked into the historicity of Mormonism? How do you know that Joseph Smith is a true prophet of God? How do you know the Book of Mormon is God’s Word?” More questions that had never crossed my mind. Within minutes, my unease turned into terror. What had felt like a firm foundation was dissolving into quicksand.

Nevertheless, our affection for each other was growing, and we knew this lingering division needed to be addressed. So we agreed to study the Bible together. It only took one Bible study to send me into a tailspin. I was shocked to find several crucial disparities between biblical and Mormon teachings. For five months I battled with Gary and the Bible, defending Mormonism with passion. But my fortress began to crumble as I compared the historical authenticity of Mormonism and Joseph Smith with that of the Bible.

This was devastating and infuriating. At the same time, it opened my mind to the biblical view of my nature—sinful, not divine. It also opened my mind to better understand God’s nature—three persons in one God, the Father being Spirit instead of flesh and bones. The Mormon God was a man who worked his way into godhood. The biblical God had always been God, unchanging. I struggled to wrap my mind around this.

I saw, too, that God was inviting me to walk into his kingdom through trust in Jesus. Covered in Christ’s righteousness, I would always be worthy of the Father’s delight and presence. But rejecting the faith of my forebears and risking the wrath of my family terrified me. I wanted further assurance that I was right to take this plunge.

After five more months of research, I was still wrestling with the idea of a Trinitarian God. One day, as I sat in bed conflicted, God drew near to me in a vision. I saw a sea of people around Jesus, who sat on a throne. They bowed before him, singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty. Who was, and is, and is to come.” As they worshiped, I fell to my face and wept. I received Jesus into my heart and walked into his kingdom. I was free of the shame that had suffocated me for 18 years.

On my 21st birthday, after consuming large quantities of alcohol, I spent the night fending off drunk guys who wanted to take me home. I steadied a friend’s forehead as she vomited into the toilet of a urine-soaked bathroom. I craved a different kind of life.

That same December night, I returned home and fell face-down before God. With fists clenched and tears streaming, I offered each addiction to him, inviting him to have his way in my heart, my mind, and my body. I asked him to free me to live fully surrendered to Jesus, the One who gives life.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt born again, as if God had performed a total heart and mind transplant. I was released from my addictions, and peace filled my entire being. The Mormon girl inside me breathed a sigh of relief. Set free from the burden of proving myself worthy, I rested in the arms of the One who had loved me enough to cover me with worthiness all his own.

Editor’s Note: Lisa Brockman is currently a staff member of Cru.

In his book, Chuck Bentley writes:

There's a name for God that we seldom ever use. I know I don't use it very often. That name is Jealous. Sounds strange, doesn't it? When we call someone jealous, it’s usually to point out a character flaw. How can something we consider bad be attributed to God, especially one of his names? “Do not worship any other god, for the Lord, whose name is jealous, is a jealous God” (Exodus 34:14).

Back in the late 1960s, there was a popular TV western series called The Guns of Will Sonnet. Walter Brennan played the title role, a Scripture-quoting man with a reputation for unparalleled gun fighting skills. As the series progressed, viewers saw the wise old man avoid more gunfights than he got into the simple, truthful statement about his abilities: “No brag, just fact.”

God has the title of Jealous because he’s the only one worthy of all our affection and adoration. No brag, just fact. The complete worthiness of ultimate praise grants him and him alone the right to be the Jealous One. He’s God Almighty. He’s at the top of all Kings, all Lords, all gods, and all things. So jealousy is normative, if you’re God.

Matthew’s Gospel ends with Jesus saying to his followers, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore …” (Matthew 28:18-19a). Jesus isn’t just a Savior; he’s the Lord. In other words, he’s the one who calls the shots. But remember that obedience stems from worship. The worship and love of Jesus always precedes faithful obedience to Jesus.

It’s like in the beginning of the film The Princess Bride. When Princess Buttercup would ask Wesley to do something, all Wesley would say was, “As you wish.” And soon Buttercup realized that what Wesley was really saying was, “I love you.” His joyful obedience to her commands flowed out of his great love for her.

It’s the same way with Jesus. The more you love him, the more you want to obey him. The more you will say, “As you wish.”

Imagine a basketball game. It's almost the end of overtime; it's time for one last shot. Who do you want to have the ball? You want the calmest and best player out there. Or imagine the security of the nation is threatened. Threat levels have gone through the roof, and an attack is imminent. Who do you want to have the nuclear codes? Who do you want making the final call on what to do or not to do? You want someone who is calm under pressure. Or here's one more example. Imagine you need a crucial surgery to save your life or the life of a loved one. Who do you want behind that scalpel? Who do you want performing the surgery? Of course you want the best doctor available.

That's how the Gospels present Jesus as he faces the cross. He's under extreme pressure—pressure that we will never even fathom. He's actually sweating drops of blood. And yet at every stage Jesus is calm. He is in control of himself.

But Jesus also leaves every sports star, every politician, every surgeon far behind. It's not just that Jesus is in control of himself; Jesus is in control of the events themselves. It's not just that he's able to handle his own adrenaline; he's able to dictate the result. It's not just he's able to act wisely under pressure; he's able to determine the outcome. Jesus isn't just able to respond skillfully to what he finds; he already knows what he will find, and has already mapped out the solution to the deepest human problem of all. Jesus stands out in this because he is in control of the entire sweep of human history, even as he goes through his death.

In a sermon, John Ortberg compares submission to Jesus to driving a car:

When it was time to take our first child home from the hospital, we put her in the car seat in the back of the car, and then I got in the front seat to drive. She was so small even the baby seat was way too big. She looked so fragile to me that I drove home on the freeway going 35 miles per hour with the hazard lights flashing the whole time.

That first day, when your kid is in the car with you, is a scary day. Does anybody want to know what the next really scary day is with your kid in the car? It's when they turn 16, and now you're handing over the keys. Now they're moving from the passenger seat, from the ride-along seat, into the driver's seat. That's a scary moment.

It is a big moment in your life when you hand someone else the keys. Up until now, I've been driving. I choose the destination. I choose the route. I choose the speed. You're in the drive-along seat. But if we are to change seats, if you're going to drive, I have to trust you. It's all about control. Whoever is in this seat is the person in control.

A lot of people find Jesus handy to have in the car as long as he's in the ride-along seat, because something may come up where they require his services. Jesus, I have a health problem, and I need some help…. I want you in the car, but I'm not so sure I want you driving. If Jesus is driving, I'm not in charge of my life anymore. If he's driving, I'm not in charge of my wallet anymore. If I put him in control then it's no longer a matter of giving some money now and then when I'm feeling generous or when more of it is coming into my life. Now, it's his wallet. It's scary. If Jesus is driving, I'm not in charge of my ego anymore. I no longer have the right to satisfy every self-centered ambition. No, it's his agenda. It's his life. Now, I'm not in charge of my mouth anymore. I don't get to gossip, flatter, cajole, deceive, rage, intimidate, manipulate, exaggerate. I get out of the driver's seat and hand the keys over to him. I'm fully engaged. In fact, I'm more alive than I've ever been before, but it's not my life anymore. It's his life.

Families and children around the world have grown to love a special retelling of the biblical storyline from The Jesus Storybook Bible written by Sally Lloyd-Jones. In her introduction to the big story of the Bible, Jones writes:

There are lots of stories in the Bible, but all the stories are telling one Big Story. The Story of how God loves his children and comes to rescue them. It takes the whole Bible to tell this Story. And at the center of the Story there is a baby. Every story in the Bible whispers his name. He is like the missing piece in a puzzle—the piece that makes all the other pieces fit together, and suddenly, you can see a beautiful picture.

In March 2002, the former ruler of Afghanistan, the 87-year-old Mohammed Zahir Shah, returned to his homeland after 30 years of exile. Here's how an article in the Chicago Tribune described his grand and glorious welcome:

On Thursday, thousands of invited guests lined up for hours at the airport and people gathered on the streets leading to a refurbished seven-bedroom villa to see the former ruler. Delegations arrived from across Afghanistan's 32 provinces. Governors and their advisers, members of women's groups carrying posters of the king, most of the interim administration, royalists, warlords, men in turbans and others in suits all converged on the pockmarked runway where shells of bombed airplanes lay. Two red carpets were laid out. The newly trained honor guard was on hand, and young women and children in traditional embroidered dress greeted Zahir Shah with flowers and poems.

I hope you're thinking of the contrast when Israel's Messiah was born, when he came to his own people.

The following prayer has been attributed to a Muslim convert to Christ:

"O God, I am Mustafah the tailor, and I work at the shop of Muhammad. The whole day long I sit and pull the needle and the thread through the cloth. O God, you are the needle and I am the thread. I am attached to you and I follow you. When the thread tries to slip away from the needle, it becomes tangled and must be cut so it can be put back in the right place. O God, help me to follow you wherever you lead me. For I am really only Mustafah the tailor, and I work in the shop of Muhammad on the great square."

"The church must be reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state and never its tool."

In his article titled "Professional Soccer Was My God," former pro soccer player Gavin Peacock writes:

I was never going to be tall, so my dad (who was also a pro soccer player) would take me into our backyard in Southeast London and teach me how to quickly switch directions with the soccer ball at my feet. "The big guys won't be able to catch you!" he said. For hours I would practice turning to the left and right, dribbling in and out of cones, spinning this way and that. My dad was right: the art of turning served me well. Many of the goals I scored in the years to come were a result of that lesson.

At age 16, I left school and signed a professional contract with [English] Premier League Queens Park Rangers (QPR). I had achieved the goal—and I wasn't really happy. I was playing for the England Youth National Team, and it wasn't long before I broke into the starting eleven at QPR. But I was an insecure young man in the cutthroat world of professional sport. Soccer was my god. If I played well on a Saturday I was high, if I played poorly I was low. My sense of well-being depended entirely on my performance. I soon realized that achieving the goal wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Then, when I was 18, God intervened in my life. I was still struggling to find purpose, so I decided to attend a local church. I don't remember what the minister preached on, but afterward he invited me to his house, where he and his wife hosted a weekly youth Bible study. I rolled up in the car I had bought, a 1980s icon, the Ford Escort XR3i. Yet when they spoke about Jesus, they displayed a life and joy that I did not have. They talked about sin as if it had consequence and about God as if they knew him.

I decided to return to the Bible study the following week and the next, and I began to hear the gospel for the first time. I realized that my biggest problem wasn't whether I met the disapproval of a 20,000-strong crowd on Saturday; my biggest problem was my sin and the disapproval of almighty God. I realized that the biggest obstacle to happiness was that soccer was king instead of Jesus, who provided a perfect righteousness for me. Over time, my eyes were opened through that Sunday meeting, and I turned, repented, and believed the gospel. My heart still burned for soccer, but it burned for Christ more.

At the age of 35, Peacock retired after playing for QPR, Chelsea, and Newcastle United, but the schoolboy dream was over. He currently serves as a pastor in Canada. He concludes, "All those years ago, my earthly father taught me the art of turning, but it was my heavenly Father who turned me first to Christ and then helped me turn others to Christ by preaching his gospel."

Dan McConchie, vice president of government affairs at Americans United for Life, was riding his motorcycle through a suburban intersection when a car came into his lane and pushed him into on-coming traffic. When he woke two weeks later in a Level 1 trauma center, he was a mess. Six broken ribs, deflated left lung, broken clavicle, broken shoulder blade, and five broken vertebrae. Worst of all, amidst all the broken bones, he had a spinal-cord injury that left him a paraplegic. The neurosurgeon told his wife that it would be a "miracle" if he'd ever walk again.

Eight years later Dan is still in a wheelchair.

"What I learned," Dan said, "is that this life isn't for our comfort. Instead, the purpose of this life is that we become conformed to the image of Christ. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen when everything is unicorns and rainbows. It instead happens when life is tough, when we are forced to rely upon God through prayer just to make it through the day. That is when he is most at work in our lives molding us into who he designed us to be."

"My prayers are different today than they were eight years ago. Back then, I looked at God like Santa Claus. I asked him to send nice things my way. Now, I have one prayer that I pray more than any other: 'Lord, may I be able to say at the end of today that I was faithful.'"

Tim Keller compares the Lordship of Jesus Christ to what he calls "a life-quake":

When a great big truck goes over a tiny little bridge, sometimes there's a bridge-quake, and when a big man goes onto thin ice there's an ice-quake. Whenever Jesus Christ comes down into a person's life, there's a life-quake. Everything is reordered. If he was a guru, if he was a great man, if he was a great teacher, even if he was the genie of the lamp, there would be some limits on his rights over you. If he's God, you cannot relate to him at all and retain anything in your life that's a non-negotiable. Anything … any view, any conviction, any idea, any behavior, any relationship. He may change it, he may not change it, but at the beginning of the relationship you have to say, "In everything he must have the supremacy."

Then Keller adds:

Imagine you had a dear friend who was dying of a very rare disease, and you bring this friend to a doctor. "You'll be dead in a week. I can cure you, but I want you to know if I give you the remedy there's just one thing. It'll keep you alive for the rest of your life, but you can never eat chocolate again." Well, you're so excited. You turn to your friend and say, "Isn't this great?" Your friend says, "No chocolate? Forget it!" You say, "Are you crazy?"

Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Lordship of Christ; (2) Easter; Resurrection—Through the resurrection, Christ has been vindicated as Lord of all.