Friends,

This is not a comment on the passage, but I shared about my mother's brain cancer about six months ago. She passed away this past Saturday morning, October 29. I prayed for a peaceful and quick passing, and God heard my prayers. I am not sure whether I shared this, but she accepted Christ as her Savior about three months ago. She told me then that she wished for another chance to live more meaningfully, but that was not God's will. For me, it is enough that she trusted Christ, and I will see her again in heaven. My mother's salvation is a testament to persevering prayer for our lost loved ones.

Thank you all for your prayers over this past half year. If God moves you, please pray that God would uphold my father, who will face the greatest change. Pray that God will fill his loss with His presence and grace. I have peace because of the promises of God. My father is a believer, so I pray that this same peace will strengthen and guide him as well.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The comment records the answer to the prayer requested at #2289 and #2292 — and it is worth pausing over how it came: a mother who was not confessing Christ when the tumor was found came to faith in the months before she died. Jesus' parable of the laborers in the vineyard, where those hired at the eleventh hour receive the same wage (Matthew 20:1–16), and His word to the thief on the cross, "today you will be with me in paradise" (Luke 23:43), both testify that God's mercy is not measured by how long someone has believed.

Scripture also speaks directly to those left behind. Paul wrote that believers do not grieve "as others do who have no hope," because those who have fallen asleep in Jesus will be brought with Him (1 Thessalonians 4:13–14) — grief and hope together, not hope instead of grief. For a surviving spouse, Scripture's promises are especially tender: God is "a father of the fatherless and a protector of widows" (Psalm 68:5), and "the Lord is near to the brokenhearted" (Psalm 34:18). The request for prayer for a grieving father is exactly the kind of burden the church is meant to carry together (Galatians 6:2).

It was at this time that He went off to the mountain to pray, and He spent the whole night in prayer to God (Luke 6:12).

Jesus spent the whole night in private prayer to the Father. I wonder what He prayed. Was it about the enraged Pharisees he faced that day? Was it about the twelve disciples that He would select to follow Him, one of whom would be Judas Iscariot, the betrayer? Was it about His growing popularity with the people or His growing unpopularity with the Jewish leadership? Was He praying about the path to the cross or about the future church? We are not told.

Yet, we are told that He spent the whole night in prayer to God. We are not told He did this every day, but we are told that He often prayed:

But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed (Luke 5:16).

We are also told that He did not take His disciples. His prayer was private. It is also noteworthy that this extended prayer time immediately preceded the selection of the Twelve, the apostles who would proclaim the Gospel after He went back to heaven.

I find it remarkable that Jesus, who had an unbroken communion with God would find it necessary to pray. The One who was perfect and sinless, still found it desirable to pray, even to pray for an extended time. He prayed early in the morning:

Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed (Mark 1:35).

He also prayed in the evening:

After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone (Matthew 14:23).

The Book of Hebrews suggests His prayers were often intensely emotional:

During the days of Jesus' life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission (Hebrews 5:7).

This last verse is more remarkable in that we are told that Jesus prayed to God, who could save Him from death, and God heard His prayer. You might wonder, if God heard His prayer, why did Jesus still die since He prayed for God to deliver Him from death? Remember, Jesus also prayed, "Not my will but yours be done."

Friends, the Lord Jesus received everything He prayed for because His interests were in perfect alignment with the Father's interests. Even with such a perfect connection, Jesus found it needful and desirous to pray. Let us, then, follow in His steps. Since we do not have such an intimate and perfect connection with God, let us humble ourselves even more and pray that God's will might be revealed to us and done through us. Let us pray a little, and let us pray a lot. Let us learn to pray in such a way that our prayers begin to mimic the words of God. How wonderful it would be if our every petition simply reflected God's perfect will. Then, our prayers to God would not be sometimes "Yes" and sometimes "No" but always "Yes" in Christ:

If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you (John 15:7).

Since God already knows what we need and want even before we ask Him (Matthew 6:8), is not the whole purpose of prayer an exercise in aligning our will to God's will, to speak back to God what He desires for us to pray, and humbly speaking and seeking His will to be done in our lives?

AI-Expanded Reflection

Luke repeatedly locates prayer at significant moments in Jesus’ ministry: his baptism, the selection of the Twelve, the transfiguration, and the approach of his suffering. The all-night prayer in Luke 6:12 belongs within that pattern. The following selection is not simply an exercise in organizational judgment. It is part of the mission Jesus receives from the Father. Luke tells us the duration and setting of the prayer while withholding its content, inviting attention to Jesus’ dependence without supplying material for speculation about every topic he must have covered.

The fact that Jesus is sinless does not make prayer unnecessary. Prayer is not only a remedy for ignorance or guilt; it is also communion, trust, petition, thanksgiving, and the expression of filial obedience. The incarnate Son lives a genuinely human life before the Father. Treating his prayer as a mere performance for observers would weaken the very reality the Gospels present. His example teaches us that maturity does not mean progressing beyond dependence. The closest communion with God is entirely compatible with deliberate time spent addressing him.

Hebrews 5:7 deepens that picture through cries, tears, and reverent submission. Being heard does not mean that Jesus avoids the cross. The language can encompass deliverance through death in resurrection, and the following verses connect suffering with the completion of his priestly work. Gethsemane likewise holds an honest request for another course together with submission to the Father’s will. We should not flatten that encounter into a rule that sufficiently spiritual people never voice a desire that differs from what finally occurs. Jesus’ prayer gives room for anguish without making anguish rebellion.

John 15:7 then places confident asking within abiding in Christ and the presence of his words. It is not a technique for discovering a formula that makes every preferred outcome certain. His words shape desires, while the surrounding passage speaks of fruit, love, obedience, and witness. The promise belongs to a living relationship and mission. A disciple can increasingly pray from Scripture and still lack full knowledge of God’s purposes in a particular circumstance. An unanswered request does not by itself prove that the person has failed to abide.

The original rightly emphasizes alignment, but prayer is more than an exercise in adjusting ourselves to an already fixed script. Scripture also invites real asking and portrays God as responding to his people. We need not resolve every philosophical question about providence before praying. A practical pattern is to bring actual concerns honestly, allow biblical truth to examine them, and entrust the outcome to the Father while remaining attentive to the next responsibility. Longer prayer may sometimes be fitting, but duration is not a competition or a universal requirement to neglect sleep. What Jesus’ example challenges is the assumption that our activity is too important for dependence. Before choosing, speaking, correcting, or serving, we can make room to seek the One whose will we hope our work will express.

Give, and it will be given to you. They will pour into your lap a good measure—pressed down, shaken together, and running over. For by your standard of measure it will be measured to you in return (Luke 6:38).

Some have used this verse to argue that those who give money to the church will receive an overflowing supply of money in return. The only problem is that nowhere is the church or a tithe mentioned. If pressed, the context would suggest that Jesus has person to person relationships in mind. This understanding better fits the pattern of the verses that precede it:

If you love the ungrateful, you will receive credit from God (paraphrase of Luke 6:27–36).

If you do not judge, God will not judge you; if you do not condemn, God will not condemn you (paraphrase of Luke 6:37).

Thus, the immediate context suggests God's blessing of good deeds within the context of general human relationships without any suggestion of "tithes and offerings" for the church.

What is more, the larger context suggests that the reward from God is not meted out on earth but in heaven. Notice from the very beginning of Jesus' discourse in Luke 6:20, He is speaking of what those who suffer for good in this life can expect and hope for in the "kingdom of God" (Luke 6:20). Those who "hunger now" will be "satisfied" in the kingdom of heaven. Those who "weep now" will "laugh" in heaven. Again, those who are persecuted now can rejoice because their "reward is great in heaven" (Luke 6:23).

Even in the context of the verses immediately preceding the verse on giving, the same can be said with respect to God's reward. It will be given in heaven. Those who do not judge now will not be judged in heaven (cf. Luke 6:37). Those who do not condemn now will not be condemned in heaven. Those who pardon now will also be pardoned in heaven (cf. Luke 6:37).

This is consistent with Jesus' message in the Sermon on the Mount regarding storing up treasures in heaven rather than on earth (cf. Matthew 6:19–21). Jesus is consistently emphasizing God's reward in heaven.

With this in mind, to suggest that God will materially bless now those that give to the church now is not only reading something into the verse that is not there, it is also taking the verse out of the immediate and larger context of the passage.

What, then, should we learn from this verse about giving? I believe it is the same teaching as Jesus taught regarding charity to people in need:

But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you (Matthew 6:3–4).

God will reward every good act. And this idea of "pressed down, shaken together, and running over" (Luke 6:38) speaks of the greater value of the heavenly reward in comparison to the earthly giving. We observe, as Jesus, that the heavenly reward cannot be stolen and is not subject to decay (cf. Matthew 6:19–20). Thus, it lasts forever.

Now, in their over-zealous attempt to refute prosperity theologians, some have gone overboard in trying to read Luke 6:38 as simply a verse teaching reciprocation, namely, that when you give to others, it is highly likely that they will return the favor and often in greater measure. While this is true, and is a possible understanding of the verse, and there are elements of such proverbial axioms in Jesus' discourses, I think the context here better suggests that more than simple reciprocation from others is in view. What is in view is that when we give to others, God will reward our giving in greater measure in heaven.

AI-Expanded Reflection

Luke 6:38 belongs to a discourse about the character of life under God’s mercy. Jesus has spoken of loving enemies, doing good without calculating ordinary reciprocity, and imitating the Father’s kindness toward the ungrateful and evil (6:27–36). He then addresses judging, condemning, forgiving, and giving. Reading the promise as a guaranteed return on a donation isolates one sentence from this network of relationships. The passage asks what kind of people disciples are becoming, not how they can secure a favorable rate of return from heaven.

The picture of a measure pressed down, shaken, and overflowing evokes abundance rather than grudging compliance. A measured quantity can be supplied sparingly or generously; Jesus chooses language that leaves no impression of a giver searching for the smallest acceptable amount. The image exposes the calculating spirit that asks how little mercy, patience, or material help a person can provide while still meeting a religious obligation. It invites an openhanded disposition because the Father himself is merciful. This does not mean that every request is wise or that generosity requires surrendering all judgment.

The original comment rightly resists the claim that the verse specifically commands a church tithe or promises present wealth to donors. Its further conclusion that the reward must be exclusively heavenly is less certain. Luke’s discourse clearly includes future reversal and reward, but verse 38 does not explicitly locate every aspect of its promise after death. The passive language of receiving can direct attention to God’s judgment and generosity without excluding the effects of generous relationships in the present. We need not settle every dimension of the reward to reject a financial guarantee that the passage never states.

Nor should we reduce the saying to a technique for making people reciprocate. Jesus has already asked disciples to love beyond the circle of those who reliably return benefits. Generosity that functions only when repayment is probable remains within the ordinary economy of self-interest he challenges. Christian giving can include careful planning and accountability, but its moral center is the good of the recipient and faithfulness to God. A person in need should not become the instrument through which the donor expects to multiply personal wealth.

This reading has consequences for both churches and individuals. Leaders should explain needs truthfully rather than attach unsupported promises of prosperity to an appeal. Givers can consider family responsibilities, debt, the effectiveness of assistance, and the dignity of recipients without being accused of unbelief. The same generous measure should shape how we listen to an explanation, assess a failure, or offer another opportunity. Luke 6 does not command moral blindness; later verses warn against blind guidance and require attention to the plank in one’s own eye. It forms people who combine humility with mercy. We give because God’s kindness is remaking our relationships, trusting him with the reward instead of turning his promise into an investment contract.

Luke 7:34 records Jesus saying that the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, look at him, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.

I have heard some pastors try to cast doubt over whether the wine Jesus drank was actually wine — arguing that no one should drink it, and that Jesus's example cannot be used to excuse it. But if Jesus was simply drinking grape juice, why would He be accused of being a drunkard?

The Bible does teach us to have no idols, to be no drunkard, to cause no harm, and to be sober-minded and ready for the kingdom.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The argument from the accusation is a reasonable one and is frequently made: a charge of drunkenness requires something that could plausibly produce it. The contrast Jesus draws in the same passage supports it — John came neither eating nor drinking and was called demon-possessed; the Son of Man came eating and drinking and was called a glutton. The point is that the critics were unpleasable, and the contrast only works if the two practices actually differed.

Christians land in different places on the application, and both positions have serious defenders. Those who abstain generally argue less from the claim that Scripture forbids alcohol than from considerations Paul himself raises about not causing a brother to stumble (Romans 14:21) and from the real harms of addiction. Those who do not abstain point to passages like this one, to wine at the wedding at Cana, and to Paul's advice to Timothy.

What Scripture is unambiguous about is what the comment lists: drunkenness is condemned repeatedly, and sober-mindedness is commanded. The disagreement concerns the wisest application of a shared conviction, not a dispute about whether the conviction holds.

Friends, I have submitted three separate comments today on three passages in Luke 6, rather than one long entry. I pray that what I have shared may be edifying.

Jesus asks why they call Him Lord and do not do what He says. Everyone who comes to Him, hears His words, and puts them into practice is like a man building a house who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock — when the flood came, the torrent could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears and does not put into practice is like a man who built on the ground without a foundation; the moment the torrent struck, it collapsed completely (a paraphrase of Luke 6:46–49).

This parallels a longer passage in Matthew 7:21–27, which extends the teaching about those who say "Lord, Lord": not everyone who says it will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the Father's will. Many will say on that day that they prophesied in His name, drove out demons, and performed miracles — and He will tell them plainly that He never knew them (a paraphrase of Matthew 7:21–23).

These passages are often preached simply as a lesson against hearing without doing. That is the primary lesson. But what is sometimes missed is the contrast Jesus draws between doing what we think and doing what God wills, which the first part brings out.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The distinction the comment lands on is the sharpest thing in the passage and is easy to miss. The people in Matthew 7:22 are not idle. They prophesied, cast out demons, and performed many miracles — a more impressive record of religious activity than most people will ever have. The problem is not that they did nothing; it is that the doing was not what the Father willed, and the relationship was absent.

The word Jesus uses is the one that carries the weight: I never knew you. Not "you never worked hard enough" or "your doctrine was wrong," but a denial of relationship. That is what makes the passage frightening in the way it is, and it is also why it cannot be answered by doing more.

Luke's image supports the same point in a different register. The difference between the two builders is invisible until the flood, and the work that makes the difference — digging down deep — is the part no one sees and no one can verify from outside. Neither passage offers a way to demonstrate one's own foundation to observers, which may be part of why they are placed at the end of both sermons.

No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit; each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes or grapes from briers. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil out of the evil stored up in his — for the mouth speaks what the heart is full of (a paraphrase of Luke 6:43–45).

I want to dispel some confusion about what "fruit" means in passages dealing with false prophecy and teaching. Luke 6:45 clears it up by supplying the explanation: the mouth speaks what the heart is full of. In other words, fruit here has to do with what is spoken — what is taught or prophesied.

So when we read the parallel in Matthew — watch out for false prophets who come in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ferocious wolves; by their fruit you will recognize them (a reference to Matthew 7:15–20) — we can discern the meaning. How do we tell a false prophet from a true one? By what they say. Even if someone is a moral person or does many spiritual things, we are to judge them by what they teach rather than simply by what they do, since fruit in this case concerns speech rather than actions.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The observation about Luke 6:45 is a real contribution and the link is in the text — Luke moves from fruit to speech in the same breath, which is not a connection a reader would necessarily make from Matthew alone.

One qualification keeps the conclusion from overreaching. Scripture uses "fruit" across a range of senses, and the range matters here. Paul's fruit of the Spirit is a list of character qualities — love, joy, peace, patience — not utterances. Matthew 7's own immediate continuation moves to those who say "Lord, Lord" and do many impressive works, and the disqualifying factor there is that Jesus never knew them, which is broader than doctrinal error. And the New Testament's actual tests for leadership in 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1 are overwhelmingly about character and conduct, with sound teaching as one item among many.

So the comment's point holds as a correction of the opposite error, which is real: a teacher who seems admirable is not thereby teaching truth, and likability is not a doctrinal credential. But the broader biblical pattern is that both are in view. Teaching that is sound and a life that contradicts it was precisely the charge against the Pharisees, who taught rightly from Moses's seat and did not practice what they preached.

Luke 6:20–49 parallels a number of teachings in the Sermon on the Mount. One such parallel is the instruction to love your enemies, do good to them, and lend without expecting to get anything back — then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because He is kind to the ungrateful and wicked (a paraphrase of Luke 6:35).

This is close to Matthew 5:44, where Jesus says to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven.

The moral quality that most reveals a person's relationship with God is the giving of undeserved love. It is this kind of love that makes us like God, because He loves people this way — He loves the ungrateful and the wicked.

Jesus taught that He was giving a new command: love one another as I have loved you; by this everyone will know you are My disciples (a reference to John 13:34–35). It was a Jesus-kind-of-love, sacrificial, given for the undeserving: at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly — rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person one might possibly dare to die, but God demonstrates His own love in this, that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (a paraphrase of Romans 5:6–8).

AI-Expanded Reflection

The reasoning Jesus gives is the striking part, and the comment identifies it: the reason for loving enemies is not that it works, or that they will be won over, but that this is what God is like toward the ungrateful and wicked. The behavior is grounded in imitation rather than in outcome, which means its justification does not collapse when the enemy remains an enemy.

Luke's version has a detail Matthew's lacks. Alongside loving and praying, Luke includes lending without expecting return — an economic instruction placed in the same breath as the ethical one. He does that repeatedly; his version of the Beatitudes says blessed are the poor rather than the poor in spirit, and adds corresponding woes to the rich. Whatever Luke understood the kingdom to involve, it had material implications he did not spiritualize.

Worth noting that the standard is not framed as exceptional. Jesus's argument in the surrounding verses is that loving those who love you is unremarkable — even sinners do that. The love in view is presented as the ordinary mark of the family rather than as heroic achievement.

Tonight, reading Luke, I was thinking about the connection between faith and obedience. Jesus asks why they call Him Lord and do not do what He says. Everyone who comes to Him, hears His words, and puts them into practice, He compares to a man building a house who dug deep and laid a foundation on rock — when the flood came, the torrent could not shake it. But the one who hears and does not put into practice is like a man who built on ground without a foundation; the moment the torrent struck, it collapsed completely (a paraphrase of Luke 6:46–49).

As Christians, faith is required first. We are not saved, redeemed, or righteous before God until we have faith in Christ. Yet faith is only the first step in our walk with God. Conversely, obedience to Christ does not save or redeem us in God's eyes — but obedience affirms our faith and in some ways reflects it. Jesus speaks here of putting God's words into practice, and that creates a solid foundation. Faith grows with obedience. Sometimes when things go wrong we lose faith and question God, but in the end we should look inward: have we been obedient to God's calling? Have we loved others as we love ourselves?

AI-Expanded Reflection

The formulation this comment arrives at — obedience neither earns nor substitutes for faith, but affirms and strengthens it — is close to what the New Testament holds together in several places, and it is worth noting the detail Luke adds that Matthew's version of the same parable omits. In Luke, the wise builder does not merely build on rock; he digs deep to reach it. The labor is invisible from the outside and produces nothing anyone can see until the flood arrives.

That detail fits the comment's point about growth precisely. The difference between the two houses is not visible in fair weather, and the work that creates the difference is the part nobody watches. Luke frames the contrast not as two kinds of belief but as two relationships to unglamorous, unobserved effort.

Friends, do you notice familiar language in Luke 6:20–26?

Blessed are you poor, For yours is the kingdom of God Blessed are you who hunger now, For you shall be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, For you shall laugh. Blessed are you when men hate you, And when they exclude you, And revile you, and cast out your name as evil, For the Son of Man’s sake. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy! For indeed your reward is great in heaven, For in like manner their fathers did to the prophets.

But woe to you who are rich, For you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full, For you shall hunger. Woe to you who laugh now, For you shall mourn and weep. Woe to you when all men speak well of you, For so did their fathers to the false prophets.

These words are very much like the Beatitudes of Matthew 5:3–12. In both instances Jesus is speaking of the attitude and behavior of those that will enter the kingdom of God in heaven. Jesus also says that these attitudes and behaviors will be rewarded in heaven. This is all good and fine until you read what these attitudes and behaviors actually are which characterize kingdom saints.

The blessed are characterized by poverty, hunger, sorrow and persecution for their faith in Jesus. Those on the other side, who are cursed, enjoy riches, fine foods, laughter and the favor of the people around them.

In making these distinctions between the blessed and the cursed Jesus is also making a distinction between the quality of life on earth versus the quality of life in heaven for the believer. The sense is that those who seek comfort, satisfaction, fame and fortune in this life will forfeit it in the next. This is illustrated in Jesus' parable of the rich man and Lazarus. After they both died, Lazarus was blessed and the rich man tormented. The reasoning given by Abraham is this: "Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted and you are tormented." A contrast is made between what is experienced in this life versus what will be received in the next.

James gives an even more scathing rebuke:

Come now, you rich, weep and howl for your miseries that are coming upon you! Your riches are corrupted, and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver are corroded, and their corrosion will be a witness against you and will eat your flesh like fire. You have heaped up treasure in the last days. Indeed the wages of the laborers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, cry out; and the cries of the reapers have reached the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. You have lived on the earth in pleasure and luxury; you have fattened your hearts as in a day of slaughter. You have condemned, you have murdered the just; he does not resist you (James 5:1–6).

While James writes of the corruption and abuse of power by the rich, he also attacks their self-indulgence. He says that they are merely fattening themselves for "a day of slaughter," which pictures the final, eternal judgment by God. Again, he writes in James 1:9–11,

Let the lowly brother glory in his exaltation, but the rich in his humiliation, because as a flower of the field he will pass away. For no sooner has the sun risen with a burning heat than it withers the grass; its flower falls, and its beautiful appearance perishes. So the rich man also will fade away in his pursuits.

James argues that the rich have no significance in their riches because everything they have, everything they toiled for, even their own lives, will soon pass away. But since God is the God of the poor, the lowly will be lifted up (note: James, the half-brother of Jesus, may here be thinking of the Beatitudes of Jesus, where Jesus said that the lowly will be blessed in the kingdom of God).

Jesus and James are not alone in their rebuke of the rich. Paul warned his protege, Timothy, against the pursuit of riches:

Now godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. And having food and clothing, with these we shall be content. But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and harmful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, for which some have strayed from the faith in their greediness, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. But you, O man of God, flee these things and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, gentleness (1 Timothy 6:6–11).

Wow! What amazing counsel. Paul writes, "food and clothing" is all that they need. They will be content with this. And beyond this they will only and fixedly pursue "godliness." This sounds very much like the language of Jesus in Matthew 6:31–33,

Therefore do not worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?" For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.

What a remarkable promise from Jesus. I wonder if anyone has tried to live like this? Paul taught that believers should be content with food and clothing. Jesus taught that God will supply sufficient food and clothing for the believer. Then what is left for the believer to do? According to Paul, pursue godliness. According to Jesus, seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. They are saying the same thing.

But what about the rich? Paul says that "those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and harmful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition" (1 Timothy 6:9). He says that among these, "some have strayed from the faith in their greediness, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows" (1 Timothy 6:10).

With such a dour prospect, what believer in their right mind would give any attention to the pursuit of money? Yet, many do. Paul even warns righteous Timothy against the temptation, saying,

But you, O man of God, flee these things and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, gentleness (1 Timothy 6:11).

It is as though Paul is reminding Timothy, "You are a man of God and not a man of the world." Therefore, he says, pursue the things of God, which will endure, and not the things of the world, which will pass away: "Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, to which you were also called and have confessed the good confession in the presence of many witnesses" (1 Timothy 6:12).

Having spoken against the pursuit of riches, Paul addresses those that are already rich:

Command those who are rich in this present age not to be haughty, nor to trust in uncertain riches but in the living God, who gives us richly all things to enjoy. Let them do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to give, willing to share, storing up for themselves a good foundation for the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal life.

Paul commands that the rich be taught not to be trust in their riches (e.g. Recall the lesson of the rich young man, who trusted in his riches over Jesus). He commands that they now pursue the riches of good works, having a heart that is ready and willing to give to others, thus, storing up for themselves enduring heavenly treasure rather than earthly riches, which will perish. For both Timothy and for the rich, the ultimate goal is the same: "that they may lay hold on eternal life" (1 Timothy 6:12, 19). In other words, that they will not be found, like the rich young man, to have trusted in their riches more than Jesus, and so forfeiting eternal life.

Dear friends, this is a rather long entry, but perhaps you are a bit more enlightened on this important subject. There is a whole movement that teaches almost exactly opposite of what I presented here. They are basing their teaching on the Old Testament, old covenant, Mosaic Law, which has been displaced by the New Testament, new covenant, Law of Christ. I have presented to you the character and teaching of the new covenant principle regarding the pursuit of money. Don't be confused by the false message of the prosperity preachers. Like the rich man in Jesus' parable, they will receive their just reward.

But you, O man and woman of God, "flee these things and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, gentleness!"

AI-Expanded Reflection

Luke's blessings and woes should retain their material force. Jesus addresses poverty, hunger, grief, and rejection, and he warns those who are rich, satisfied, laughing, and publicly admired. Reading these solely as inward attitudes risks silencing the people whose actual deprivation the passage names. At the same time, the address is to disciples, and the persecution blessing concerns the Son of Man. The passage describes the reversal associated with God's kingdom, not an automatic rule that every poor person is saved and every wealthy person is condemned.

The rich man and Lazarus sharpen the moral issue: abundance coexists with neglected suffering at the gate. James similarly identifies withheld wages and self-indulgence in the presence of exploited workers. The danger is not simply that wealth is temporary, but that it can insulate its possessor from both a neighbor's cry and God's claim. Prosperity can feel like evidence that one's life is rightly ordered while concealing serious injustice. Read Luke 6:20–26 and James 5:1–6.

First Timothy 6 adds a distinction that the original helpfully preserves: instruction against the desire to become rich is followed by instruction to people who already possess wealth. They are commanded to abandon pride and misplaced trust, do good, and become ready to share. The reference to God richly providing things to enjoy also prevents the claim that every enjoyment of a material gift is inherently faithless. Enjoyment becomes distorted when it is detached from gratitude, contentment, and responsibility to others.

The result is a demanding account of stewardship. Believers should examine how resources were acquired, what loyalties they sustain, and whose needs are being overlooked. Contentment does not excuse failure to provide for dependents, and generosity need not wait until one feels financially invulnerable. The kingdom changes the question from how much security can be accumulated to how faithfully what is entrusted can serve God and neighbor. Such use of wealth is a concrete expression of trusting a future that money cannot purchase.

Chapter 6: Jesus asks why we notice the speck in our brother's eye but miss the log in our own, and calls it hypocritical to offer to remove someone else's speck while ignoring our own log — urging us to remove our own log first, so we can see clearly enough to help with the speck (a paraphrase of Luke 6:41–42).

I read these verses with the opening line in mind — why do we see wrong in others but not in ourselves? He asks the question directly. Just before this, He asked, "can the blind lead the blind?" and "is the disciple above the teacher?" Even further back, He said not to judge, not to condemn — judging isn't for us; God alone is judge (cf. Psalm 96:13). But we're meant to learn (v. 40) and grow to discern good from evil, the way Solomon did (1 Kings 3:9).

Once we've learned — removed our own log — and can see clearly, we can then help discern right and wrong in others, removing the speck in their eye too.

We're blind until we submit to God's word. We only partially see when we partially obey.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The order this comment traces — remove your own log first, only then help with someone else's speck — is easy to misread as simply "never correct anyone." But the passage doesn't actually forbid removing the speck; it forbids doing so while still blinded by your own uncorrected fault. The log-removal isn't presented as a permanent disqualification from ever helping others see clearly — it's a prerequisite. Read that way, the passage isn't opposed to correction between believers at all (Scripture elsewhere clearly expects it, e.g., Galatians 6:1); it's opposed to correction attempted from a position of unaddressed blindness, which tends to produce exactly the kind of harsh, self-righteous rebuke this passage is warning against in the first place.