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Welcome to those joining us both in-person and online across Georgia, the country, and beyond. We are experiencing what many would call revival, and true revival only comes from the Holy Spirit. We cannot become selfish about our faith—we must remain concerned about the unbeliever and the weary saint. Yes, 2819 may be trending on social media, but when people arrive, they need to encounter Jesus. That is the only trend that matters for eternity.
I want to orient your hearts around the Great Commission. Look at people not just for what they mean in the world, but ask: What does their eternity look like? We can be intimidated by the world's trappings—the style, the wealth—but these things will die with them. We must be concerned about the movement of the kingdom of God.
One of the most stressful times in a relationship is when someone has a standard or desire that the other person cares about but simply cannot meet. Perhaps you've been in a relationship where there was love and affection, but a particular standard—whether fair or not—could not be overcome.
In dating, standards matter. A brother might be wonderful, but if he doesn't meet a woman's standard, it doesn't work. A woman might seem kind, but if there's a critical gap, the relationship cannot proceed. We understand this in romance, but the principle extends everywhere.
As parents, we set standards for our children. I have a child who is nearly three years old and already quite bossy. I require respect: say please, say thank you, ask permission. These aren't harsh demands—they're about respect. God didn't necessarily say no to every request; He may have just said, wait a little bit. Not right now. Patience in between the ask and the answer is part of learning.
Sometimes as a believer, you're simply minding your own business—loving people, inviting them to church, refusing to gossip, trying to be holy and chaste, reading your Bible, praying over your food. And there can be a huddle forming behind your back about you. Just living holy can cause people to talk.
The problem isn't the huddle itself. The problem is how we respond to it. Many of us see the huddle and get intimidated, then we cave back into carnality because of what others think. Don't do that. You pray over your food because you are acquainted with the One who made a way. They are not. You reject gossip because you belong to the kingdom of the One who made a way. Don't cave in, beloved.
In Matthew 22:34–40, we read: "But when the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. And one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him: 'Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the law?'"
When the text says they came to "test" him, in other Gospel accounts this can mean antagonism and disrespect. But in Mark's account, it's presented as more of an engagement—a genuine desire to hear what He had to say. The point is: sometimes you need to engage with people who don't believe.
I'm convicted that I need to spend more time with unbelievers. Yes, it's wonderful to be with believers—we share the same faith, the same family. But not everyone engaging with you is trying to come against you. Some may have seen Christ in your life and are genuinely curious. That opens a window to share the gospel.
Jesus was frequently seen with unbelievers—not to cave into their carnality, but to be salt and light among the world. And we are the only salt and light. There are nonprofits doing amazing work, wonderful good deeds across society. But they do not have salt and light. We're called to be salt and light in the world, not just inside these walls. If all the light gathers in here, it's darkness out there. We must go.
Jesus answered the lawyer: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment."
Then He continued: "And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the law and the prophets."
Think of the law and the prophets like a rod with hooks hanging from it. All of Scripture—the majority of your Bible—hangs on these two commandments. There are 613 commandments in the Old Testament, and Christ consolidated them into two.
But here's what I want to say plainly: No one gets up and celebrates this commandment as though it's easy. Some of you look at it like it's a chore. And I've been honest—I have looked at it like a chore. Give everything, all your might, all your strength, all your soul. Love Him with everything in your being. That's tough to do. Can we be real on Sunday morning? That's tough to do.
And then: "Love your neighbor as yourself." At our core, most of us are selfish. We think about ourselves and ourselves only. So Christ is saying: Give this other person the preferential treatment you would give yourself. Honestly, family, that alone could fix 50% of your relationship problems right now. No need to pay a counselor. Just do that, and things will get better.
I hate that the world has taken over the conversation about self-love, because self-love is biblical. But some of you don't love yourself. And if you don't love yourself, you can't do the second commandment either.
When I say you don't love yourself, I mean: you see something detrimental to your soul, something dysfunctional, something that tears you down—and you do not remove yourself. You continue to engage. You stay in a situation that damages you. You lack courage or you're held by pride, and you will not leave. And because you lack self-love, you can't even love that other person, because you're not acquainted with what self-love really is.
We have a dilemma. If we're going to live out those two commandments in perfection, we're going to fail miserably. Can we just be honest? We sin. I'm not talking about people who don't care about God. I'm talking about well-meaning people. You just sin.
Let me give you a real example. Men—especially godly men—you can be minding your own business, loving the Lord in your heart, worshiping Him, and all of a sudden someone attractive walks your way. Really attractive. And they're your type. You know it. They know it. And you start to sweat. It's not a prayer; it's just "Oh, man." You're fighting not to look the way you fight in traffic when someone cuts you off.
And that's just one scenario. Someone tries to gossip and you want to hear the tea. You want to hear it, don't you? That's why you listen. Or you struggle with unforgiveness. They may be toxic, and I'm not saying go back over there—but forgive them. Forgive. Murder, jealousy, envy, backbiting—we normalize these things in some parts of the church. Unfortunately.
Who is going to do this without fail? Is anyone? No. And this is the weight. God has a standard. It's the law, and it's holy, just, and good. You're not going to negotiate your way out of that. The law is the law.
I started thinking about Romans 8:31–39, where Paul asks: "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, or the sword?"
When we encounter these things, we often let them lie to us. We start believing God doesn't love us, that He's abandoned us, that He hasn't favored us. And we question the very scriptures we read and believed. Paul says: "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."
That's true. We should celebrate that. We are more than conquerors. We should not believe the lie that circumstances speak. But here's the thing: even with a better position on trials, you still have a problem loving the Lord your God with all your might, with all your strength, with all your soul, and loving your neighbor as yourself. Any married person in this room—don't you struggle with that?
So what are we going to do? God's law is holy, just, and true. We understand what it means. We understand we mess up. Even with the best intentions, we fail. There's no downgrade from that standard. God's not going to say, "Well, give me some of your strength." The law is absolute.
But then I remembered: We were never meant to live by the law alone.
Romans 3:23 says: "For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." All. Every single person. Look to your left. Look to your right. All.
And listen to James 2:10: "For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it. For He who said, 'Do not commit adultery,' also said, 'Do not murder.' If you do not commit adultery but do murder, you have become a transgressor of the law—the whole law."
We don't grade on a curve with God's law. You mess up one, you've messed up the whole thing. "Well, I'm good over here. I don't tell lies." But you covet. You messed up all of them. "I don't kill. I just backbite a little." You messed up all of the law. All of it.
But then I realized: The law is doing exactly what it was designed to do.
Galatians 3:23–24 says: "Now before faith came, we were held captive under the law, imprisoned until the coming faith would be revealed. So then the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith."
The law was given to reveal the sinfulness of your heart. That weight you're feeling—it's doing its job. The law is a tutor and a guardian to lead you toward Christ. He is the only one who could fulfill the law.
You see why we keep preaching His name? Why we keep talking about the blood, about the cross, about Easter, about Jesus? This is why. You were supposed to feel that weight. That weight is going to make you do one of two things: either you'll try to slide out from under it with pride—"I can do it all"—or you'll stay humble and say, "God, You got me. I can't do this. I can't."
How many have tried and failed miserably? God knew you would fail miserably. It was never a permanent situation. It was meant to show your need for a Savior.
Galatians 3:25–26 says: "But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian. For in Christ Jesus, you are all sons of God through faith."
The Amplified Version expands this beautifully: "Now before faith came, we were kept in custody under the law, perpetually imprisoned in preparation for the faith that was destined to be revealed, with the result that the law has become our tutor and our disciplinarian to guide us to Christ so that we may be justified." Justified means: declared free of the guilt of sin and its penalty, and placed in right standing with God by faith.
"But now that faith has come, we are no longer under the control and authority of a tutor and disciplinarian." For you who are born again—and are you born again?—it says: "You have been reborn from above, spiritually transformed, renewed, sanctified, and are all children of God, set apart for His purpose, with full rights and privileges through faith in Jesus Christ."
I used to preach only the Savior part. He went to the cross. It was excruciating. But I'm maturing in the gospel, and now I'm learning to preach the Lord part too. Why was all that done? Look at the text: we are children of God, set apart for His purpose, with full rights and privileges through faith in Jesus Christ.
You have been purchased. You have been reconciled back to Him. You see why that should be your default? Hallelujah!
Now, let me speak to someone who thinks they're missing out. When you're walking in ways that He has designed, and He designed you for it—that's your calling. In my early walk, I thought all the "fun stuff" I couldn't do was what I was missing. I didn't know that all that "fun stuff" is really sin that tears down your soul. It's a good thing that a Father saw you, purchased you back, and reconnected you to Himself to have a relationship with Him in eternity—eternal life that starts now.
This is the gospel, beloved. This is the gospel. It's Him that we preach. God didn't change the law. He just sent the only One who could fulfill it. And His name is Jesus. And now we have been grafted into Him. In Him we move, live, and have our being.
Will somebody just say thank you for Jesus? Will you show your gratitude for Jesus? Not for me—for Jesus. He made a way.
After Jesus washed His disciples' feet, He said in John 13:34–35: "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another just as I have loved you. You also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples—if you have love for one another."
Are we serious about making disciples? Listen to verse 35: "By this all people will know that you are my disciples. If you have love for one another."
Not just by standing in lines and gathering for amazing worship, though those are good. Our mark should be our love. We should be some of the most forgiving people on the planet. We should be some of the most patient people on the planet. I'm not talking about being weak. That doesn't make you weak. It makes you strong in the Lord. Even when they huddle and talk behind your back.
The Great Commandment was carried out by Jesus Christ Himself, and no one like it. Now we are in Him, and He gave us a new commandment: to love.
Welcome to those joining us both in-person and online across Georgia, the country, and beyond. We are experiencing what many would call revival, and true revival only comes from the Holy Spirit. We cannot become selfish about our faith—we must remain concerned about the unbeliever and the weary saint. Yes, 2819 may be trending on social media, but when people arrive, they need to encounter Jesus. That is the only trend that matters for eternity.
I want to orient your hearts around the Great Commission. Look at people not just for what they mean in the world, but ask: What does their eternity look like? We can be intimidated by the world's trappings—the style, the wealth—but these things will die with them. We must be concerned about the movement of the kingdom of God.
One of the most stressful times in a relationship is when someone has a standard or desire that the other person cares about but simply cannot meet. Perhaps you've been in a relationship where there was love and affection, but a particular standard—whether fair or not—could not be overcome.
In dating, standards matter. A brother might be wonderful, but if he doesn't meet a woman's standard, it doesn't work. A woman might seem kind, but if there's a critical gap, the relationship cannot proceed. We understand this in romance, but the principle extends everywhere.
As parents, we set standards for our children. I have a child who is nearly three years old and already quite bossy. I require respect: say please, say thank you, ask permission. These aren't harsh demands—they're about respect. God didn't necessarily say no to every request; He may have just said, wait a little bit. Not right now. Patience in between the ask and the answer is part of learning.
Sometimes as a believer, you're simply minding your own business—loving people, inviting them to church, refusing to gossip, trying to be holy and chaste, reading your Bible, praying over your food. And there can be a huddle forming behind your back about you. Just living holy can cause people to talk.
The problem isn't the huddle itself. The problem is how we respond to it. Many of us see the huddle and get intimidated, then we cave back into carnality because of what others think. Don't do that. You pray over your food because you are acquainted with the One who made a way. They are not. You reject gossip because you belong to the kingdom of the One who made a way. Don't cave in, beloved.
In Matthew 22:34–40, we read: "But when the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. And one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him: 'Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the law?'"
When the text says they came to "test" him, in other Gospel accounts this can mean antagonism and disrespect. But in Mark's account, it's presented as more of an engagement—a genuine desire to hear what He had to say. The point is: sometimes you need to engage with people who don't believe.
I'm convicted that I need to spend more time with unbelievers. Yes, it's wonderful to be with believers—we share the same faith, the same family. But not everyone engaging with you is trying to come against you. Some may have seen Christ in your life and are genuinely curious. That opens a window to share the gospel.
Jesus was frequently seen with unbelievers—not to cave into their carnality, but to be salt and light among the world. And we are the only salt and light. There are nonprofits doing amazing work, wonderful good deeds across society. But they do not have salt and light. We're called to be salt and light in the world, not just inside these walls. If all the light gathers in here, it's darkness out there. We must go.
Jesus answered the lawyer: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment."
Then He continued: "And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the law and the prophets."
Think of the law and the prophets like a rod with hooks hanging from it. All of Scripture—the majority of your Bible—hangs on these two commandments. There are 613 commandments in the Old Testament, and Christ consolidated them into two.
But here's what I want to say plainly: No one gets up and celebrates this commandment as though it's easy. Some of you look at it like it's a chore. And I've been honest—I have looked at it like a chore. Give everything, all your might, all your strength, all your soul. Love Him with everything in your being. That's tough to do. Can we be real on Sunday morning? That's tough to do.
And then: "Love your neighbor as yourself." At our core, most of us are selfish. We think about ourselves and ourselves only. So Christ is saying: Give this other person the preferential treatment you would give yourself. Honestly, family, that alone could fix 50% of your relationship problems right now. No need to pay a counselor. Just do that, and things will get better.
I hate that the world has taken over the conversation about self-love, because self-love is biblical. But some of you don't love yourself. And if you don't love yourself, you can't do the second commandment either.
When I say you don't love yourself, I mean: you see something detrimental to your soul, something dysfunctional, something that tears you down—and you do not remove yourself. You continue to engage. You stay in a situation that damages you. You lack courage or you're held by pride, and you will not leave. And because you lack self-love, you can't even love that other person, because you're not acquainted with what self-love really is.
We have a dilemma. If we're going to live out those two commandments in perfection, we're going to fail miserably. Can we just be honest? We sin. I'm not talking about people who don't care about God. I'm talking about well-meaning people. You just sin.
Let me give you a real example. Men—especially godly men—you can be minding your own business, loving the Lord in your heart, worshiping Him, and all of a sudden someone attractive walks your way. Really attractive. And they're your type. You know it. They know it. And you start to sweat. It's not a prayer; it's just "Oh, man." You're fighting not to look the way you fight in traffic when someone cuts you off.
And that's just one scenario. Someone tries to gossip and you want to hear the tea. You want to hear it, don't you? That's why you listen. Or you struggle with unforgiveness. They may be toxic, and I'm not saying go back over there—but forgive them. Forgive. Murder, jealousy, envy, backbiting—we normalize these things in some parts of the church. Unfortunately.
Who is going to do this without fail? Is anyone? No. And this is the weight. God has a standard. It's the law, and it's holy, just, and good. You're not going to negotiate your way out of that. The law is the law.
I started thinking about Romans 8:31–39, where Paul asks: "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, or the sword?"
When we encounter these things, we often let them lie to us. We start believing God doesn't love us, that He's abandoned us, that He hasn't favored us. And we question the very scriptures we read and believed. Paul says: "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."
That's true. We should celebrate that. We are more than conquerors. We should not believe the lie that circumstances speak. But here's the thing: even with a better position on trials, you still have a problem loving the Lord your God with all your might, with all your strength, with all your soul, and loving your neighbor as yourself. Any married person in this room—don't you struggle with that?
So what are we going to do? God's law is holy, just, and true. We understand what it means. We understand we mess up. Even with the best intentions, we fail. There's no downgrade from that standard. God's not going to say, "Well, give me some of your strength." The law is absolute.
But then I remembered: We were never meant to live by the law alone.
Romans 3:23 says: "For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." All. Every single person. Look to your left. Look to your right. All.
And listen to James 2:10: "For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it. For He who said, 'Do not commit adultery,' also said, 'Do not murder.' If you do not commit adultery but do murder, you have become a transgressor of the law—the whole law."
We don't grade on a curve with God's law. You mess up one, you've messed up the whole thing. "Well, I'm good over here. I don't tell lies." But you covet. You messed up all of them. "I don't kill. I just backbite a little." You messed up all of the law. All of it.
But then I realized: The law is doing exactly what it was designed to do.
Galatians 3:23–24 says: "Now before faith came, we were held captive under the law, imprisoned until the coming faith would be revealed. So then the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith."
The law was given to reveal the sinfulness of your heart. That weight you're feeling—it's doing its job. The law is a tutor and a guardian to lead you toward Christ. He is the only one who could fulfill the law.
You see why we keep preaching His name? Why we keep talking about the blood, about the cross, about Easter, about Jesus? This is why. You were supposed to feel that weight. That weight is going to make you do one of two things: either you'll try to slide out from under it with pride—"I can do it all"—or you'll stay humble and say, "God, You got me. I can't do this. I can't."
How many have tried and failed miserably? God knew you would fail miserably. It was never a permanent situation. It was meant to show your need for a Savior.
Galatians 3:25–26 says: "But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian. For in Christ Jesus, you are all sons of God through faith."
The Amplified Version expands this beautifully: "Now before faith came, we were kept in custody under the law, perpetually imprisoned in preparation for the faith that was destined to be revealed, with the result that the law has become our tutor and our disciplinarian to guide us to Christ so that we may be justified." Justified means: declared free of the guilt of sin and its penalty, and placed in right standing with God by faith.
"But now that faith has come, we are no longer under the control and authority of a tutor and disciplinarian." For you who are born again—and are you born again?—it says: "You have been reborn from above, spiritually transformed, renewed, sanctified, and are all children of God, set apart for His purpose, with full rights and privileges through faith in Jesus Christ."
I used to preach only the Savior part. He went to the cross. It was excruciating. But I'm maturing in the gospel, and now I'm learning to preach the Lord part too. Why was all that done? Look at the text: we are children of God, set apart for His purpose, with full rights and privileges through faith in Jesus Christ.
You have been purchased. You have been reconciled back to Him. You see why that should be your default? Hallelujah!
Now, let me speak to someone who thinks they're missing out. When you're walking in ways that He has designed, and He designed you for it—that's your calling. In my early walk, I thought all the "fun stuff" I couldn't do was what I was missing. I didn't know that all that "fun stuff" is really sin that tears down your soul. It's a good thing that a Father saw you, purchased you back, and reconnected you to Himself to have a relationship with Him in eternity—eternal life that starts now.
This is the gospel, beloved. This is the gospel. It's Him that we preach. God didn't change the law. He just sent the only One who could fulfill it. And His name is Jesus. And now we have been grafted into Him. In Him we move, live, and have our being.
Will somebody just say thank you for Jesus? Will you show your gratitude for Jesus? Not for me—for Jesus. He made a way.
After Jesus washed His disciples' feet, He said in John 13:34–35: "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another just as I have loved you. You also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples—if you have love for one another."
Are we serious about making disciples? Listen to verse 35: "By this all people will know that you are my disciples. If you have love for one another."
Not just by standing in lines and gathering for amazing worship, though those are good. Our mark should be our love. We should be some of the most forgiving people on the planet. We should be some of the most patient people on the planet. I'm not talking about being weak. That doesn't make you weak. It makes you strong in the Lord. Even when they huddle and talk behind your back.
The Great Commandment was carried out by Jesus Christ Himself, and no one like it. Now we are in Him, and He gave us a new commandment: to love.
