Grow Stronger Roots

The Parable of the Faithful and Evil Servant: A Call to Steadfast Readiness. Matthew 24:45-51

Continuing our study of the Parables in Matthew.

Few passages in Scripture cut as sharply—and as lovingly—as the parable Jesus gives in Matthew 24:45–51. Spoken in the midst of His teaching on the end times, this short story is less about predicting dates and more about shaping character. It’s a parable that asks every believer a piercing question: What kind of servant am I becoming while I wait for my Lord?

Let’s explore its message, using the King James Version for key citations.

A Tale of Two Servants

Jesus begins with a picture of a steward entrusted with responsibility:

“Who then is a faithful and wise servant, whom his lord hath made ruler over his household, to give them meat in due season?” — Matthew 24:45 (KJV)

This servant is not praised for brilliance, charisma, or ambition. He is praised for faithfulness and wisdom—two qualities that show up in the quiet, consistent choices of everyday life.

The Reward of Faithfulness

Jesus continues:

“Blessed is that servant, whom his lord when he cometh shall find so doing.” — Matthew 24:46 (KJV)

The blessing is not for the servant who intended to be faithful, nor for the one who used to be faithful, but for the one who is found faithful when the Master returns. The reward is astonishing:

“He shall make him ruler over all his goods.” — Matthew 24:47 (KJV)

Faithfulness in small things leads to stewardship over greater things. Jesus consistently teaches this principle, and here He ties it directly to His return.

The Danger of a Neglectful Heart

Then the tone shifts. Jesus describes another servant—one who lets delay distort his character:

“But and if that evil servant shall say in his heart, My lord delayeth his coming…” — Matthew 24:48 (KJV)

Notice the decline begins in the heart, not in outward behavior. The servant doesn’t start by beating others or indulging in excess. He starts by adjusting his expectations: There’s plenty of time. No need to be diligent now.

From that inner shift flows destructive behavior:

“…and shall begin to smite his fellowservants, and to eat and drink with the drunken.” — Matthew 24:49 (KJV)

Neglect of the Master’s presence leads to abuse of others and indulgence of self.

The Sudden Reckoning

Jesus concludes with a sobering warning:

“The lord of that servant shall come in a day when he looketh not for him…” — Matthew 24:50 (KJV)

The outcome is tragic:

“…and shall cut him asunder, and appoint him his portion with the hypocrites: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” — Matthew 24:51 (KJV)

This is not a gentle ending. Jesus wants His listeners to feel the weight of spiritual negligence. The parable is not meant to terrify but to awaken.

What This Means for Us Today

1. Faithfulness Is Measured in the Ordinary

The faithful servant isn’t performing miracles or preaching sermons. He’s simply doing what the Master assigned—day after day. In a world obsessed with visibility and achievement, Jesus honors quiet obedience.

2. Delay Tests Devotion

Every generation of Christians has wrestled with the apparent “delay” of Christ’s return. The question is not when He will come, but how we will live while we wait.

3. Character Is Revealed Over Time

Both servants had the same position, the same opportunity, and the same Master. What separated them was the condition of their hearts.

4. Readiness Is Not About Prediction—It’s About Posture

Jesus isn’t calling us to decode prophetic timelines. He’s calling us to live in such a way that His return—whenever it happens—finds us faithful.

A Final Encouragement

This parable is both a warning and an invitation. It warns us against drifting into complacency, but it also invites us into a life of purpose, diligence, and hope. The Master is returning—not to catch us failing, but to reward those who have remained steadfast.

Faithfulness is not glamorous, but it is glorious in the eyes of God.

Discovering the Path of Salvation series by Stephen Luckett

Learning from the Fig Tree: A Reflection on Matthew 24:32–35

Continuing our study of the parables in Matthew.

The teachings of Jesus often come wrapped in simple images—seeds, lamps, sheep, and in this case, a fig tree. Yet beneath the simplicity lies a depth that rewards anyone willing to pause and ponder. Matthew 24:32–35 (KJV) is one of those moments where Jesus uses the everyday to illuminate the eternal.

“Now learn a parable of the fig tree; When his branch is yet tender, and putteth forth leaves, ye know that summer is nigh.” — Matthew 24:32 (KJV)

A Lesson Hidden in Plain Sight

In the ancient world, the fig tree was a familiar sight. Its seasonal rhythms were predictable: tender branches and new leaves meant warmth was coming. Jesus taps into this shared understanding to teach His disciples how to discern spiritual seasons.

Just as the fig tree signals the nearness of summer, the signs He describes earlier in the chapter point toward the nearness of His return. The message is not meant to stir fear but awareness. Jesus invites His followers to be attentive, discerning, and spiritually awake.

“When Ye Shall See All These Things…”

Jesus continues:

“So likewise ye, when ye shall see all these things, know that it is near, even at the doors.” — Matthew 24:33 (KJV)

The emphasis here is on recognition. Not speculation. Not date-setting. But understanding the times with a grounded, steady heart.

The fig tree doesn’t panic when its leaves appear—it simply responds to the season. In the same way, believers are called to respond with faith, readiness, and trust.

A Promise That Will Not Pass Away

Perhaps the most striking part of this passage is Jesus’ declaration of certainty:

“Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.” — Matthew 24:35 (KJV)

Everything we see—mountains, oceans, stars—will one day fade. But His words remain. They are more enduring than the cosmos, more stable than the ground beneath our feet. In a world that feels increasingly fragile, this promise offers a foundation that cannot be shaken.

Living in the Light of His Words

So what does this parable invite us to do today?

Stay spiritually attentive. Just as farmers watch the trees, we watch our hearts and the world around us with wisdom.
Hold onto His promises. His words are not temporary; they are eternal anchors.
Live with hopeful readiness. Not anxious waiting, but purposeful living.

The fig tree reminds us that God’s timing is purposeful and His word is trustworthy. Seasons change, but His truth endures.

Discovering the Path of Salvation series by Stephen Luckett

A Remorseful and Hopeful Testimony

I speak now as a man who has lived long enough to see the truth of his own failures. My life has been marked by choices that broke hearts, shattered trust, and wounded the people God entrusted to me. I cannot hide from it anymore. Like Adam in the garden, I once tried to cover myself with excuses, but the voice of the Lord kept calling, “Where art thou?” (Genesis 3:9). Today, I answer honestly.

Five Marriages, Four Betrayed by My Own Sin

I entered marriage lightly, without reverence, without fear of God. Five times I stood before witnesses and vowed faithfulness. Four times I broke those vows with my own unfaithfulness. I lived as though the commandment “Thou shalt not commit adultery” (Exodus 20:14) was a suggestion, not a holy boundary.

My arrogance convinced me I deserved more than what I had. I chased pleasure, attention, and validation, leaving behind a trail of broken promises. Only in my last marriage did I remain faithful, but even that came after years of damage done. It was not righteousness that kept me faithful—it was the exhaustion of sin finally catching up to me.

Estranged From My Children

I have four children who grew up learning to live without their father. My sins did not stay contained within my own life; they spilled into theirs. Scripture warns, “Be sure your sin will find you out” (Numbers 32:23), and mine found me in the silence between me and my children.

I forfeited the right to guide them. I forfeited the right to be trusted. I forfeited the right to be present. I cannot blame them for the distance—they learned it from me.

Addiction: The Chains I Chose

Drugs and alcohol became my refuge when conviction grew too loud. Instead of turning to God, I turned to the bottle and the needle. I lived the truth of Proverbs 23:29–30: “Who hath woe? who hath sorrow?… They that tarry long at the wine.”

I numbed myself to avoid facing the man I had become. But every morning, the pain returned heavier than before. Addiction was not something that happened to me—it was something I embraced to escape responsibility.

Arrogance: The Root of My Downfall

Pride was the throne I sat upon. I believed I could outrun consequences, outtalk conviction, outmaneuver God Himself. But “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18). My fall was long, and it was deserved.

I hurt others because I refused to see myself truthfully. I hurt myself because I refused to bow my head.

The Last Twenty Years: Learning to Trust God for All

Somewhere along the way—broken, tired, and out of excuses—I finally turned toward God. The last twenty years of my life have been a slow, painful, beautiful lesson in learning to trust Him for everything. Not just for forgiveness, but for daily bread, for direction, for strength, for sobriety, for humility, for hope.

I learned that “God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble” (James 4:6). I learned that His mercy is not earned—it is received. I learned that even when I was faithless, He remained faithful.

These years have not erased my past, but they have taught me to walk differently. To speak differently. To see differently. To live with open hands instead of clenched fists.

At 68 Years Old: A Heart Full of Regret and Hope

Now, at 68 years old, I look back with many regrets. I long for a redo, a chance to be the man I should have been. But time does not run backward. What I broke cannot be unbroken by my own strength.

Yet even in this, I find hope. For the thief on the cross had no redo, no chance to fix his past, no opportunity to make amends—and yet Jesus said to him, “To day shalt thou be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43).

If mercy reached him, perhaps it can reach me too.

A Cry for Mercy Before My Final Breath

I do not know how many days remain for me. But before my final breath, I pray for forgiveness—not because I deserve it, but because God is merciful. Like David, I cry, “Have mercy upon me, O God… blot out my transgressions” (Psalm 51:1). And I cling to the promise that “a broken and a contrite heart… thou wilt not despise” (Psalm 51:17).

I cannot undo the past, but I can surrender the future. I can walk humbly. I can seek reconciliation where possible. I can live as a man forgiven, not a man pretending.

If grace finds me before the end, it will be the greatest miracle of my life.

The Wedding Feast: A Royal Invitation and a Sobering Warning (Matthew 22:1–14)

Continuing in the Parables of Matthew

The parable of the Wedding Feast stands as one of Christ’s most vivid portrayals of the kingdom of heaven. Jesus speaks of a king preparing a marriage for his son, sending out invitations, and receiving responses that range from indifference to violence. The story is beautiful, unsettling, and deeply revealing — a portrait of divine grace offered, resisted, and ultimately extended to all who will come.

A Kingdom Compared to a Feast

Jesus begins, “The kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, which made a marriage for his son” (Matthew 22:2). This is not a dry lecture about religion — it is a royal celebration overflowing with joy, abundance, and honor. God is not merely calling people to a duty; He is inviting them to a feast.

The Tragedy of Refused Grace

The king sends servants to call the invited guests, but “they would not come” (Matthew 22:3). Their refusal is not due to ignorance but unwillingness. Some are apathetic — “they made light of it” (v. 5). Others are hostile — “the remnant took his servants, and entreated them spitefully, and slew them” (v. 6).

This mirrors Israel’s long history of rejecting the prophets (cf. Matthew 23:37). It also exposes the human heart: people often decline God’s invitation not because it is unclear, but because they prefer their own pursuits.

Judgment and a New Invitation

The king responds with righteous judgment (Matthew 22:7), yet the story does not end in wrath. Instead, the invitation widens:

“Go ye therefore into the highways, and as many as ye shall find, bid to the marriage” (Matthew 22:9).

This is the gospel going out to the nations — the poor, the broken, the unexpected, the unworthy. The hall is filled with guests who never imagined they would be welcomed (v. 10). Grace is lavish, surprising, and far-reaching.

The Wedding Garment: A Call to True Transformation

The parable takes a startling turn when the king notices a man without a wedding garment. He asks, “Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment?” (Matthew 22:12).

The garment symbolizes the righteousness God provides — not self-made goodness, but the covering given through Christ (cf. Isaiah 61:10; Revelation 19:8). The man’s silence reveals his presumption. He wanted the feast without the transformation. He wanted the benefits of the kingdom without the King.

The king’s response is severe: “Bind him hand and foot… cast him into outer darkness” (Matthew 22:13). This is not cruelty; it is clarity. God welcomes all, but He does not lower the standards of holiness. The invitation is free, but the garment is required.

“Many Are Called, but Few Are Chosen”

The parable ends with a solemn summary: “For many are called, but few are chosen” (Matthew 22:14). The call goes out broadly — to the highways, the hedges, the unlikely, the uninterested. But only those who respond with genuine faith, clothed in Christ’s righteousness, enter the joy of the kingdom.

Why This Parable Still Speaks Today

It confronts complacency. God’s invitation is glorious, yet many still “make light of it.”
It exposes hostility. The human heart resists God’s authority.
It magnifies grace. The King keeps inviting — even the unlikeliest guests.
It demands authenticity. A place at the table requires more than attendance; it requires a new heart.

The Wedding Feast is both a celebration and a warning — a reminder that God’s kingdom is a feast of grace, but also a call to be clothed in the righteousness of Christ.

Discovering the Path of Salvation series by Stephen Luckett

A Vineyard, a Warning, and a Promise: Reflecting on Matthew 21:33–46

Continuing in the Parables of Matthew. There’s something about this parable that grips me every time I read it. Out of all the teachings in the Book of Matthew, this one stands out as one of the strongest and most profound. It doesn’t whisper its message—it confronts, challenges, and invites all at once. The imagery is simple enough to picture, yet the meaning runs deep enough to unsettle the heart in the best possible way.

Maybe it’s because the story feels so uncomfortably familiar. The vineyard, the patient householder, the stubborn tenants—it’s not just an ancient narrative, it’s a mirror. It exposes the tension between God’s generosity and our tendency to cling to what was never ours to begin with. And woven through the entire passage is a tenderness that’s easy to miss: God keeps reaching out, keeps sending messengers, keeps giving space for repentance.

That’s why this parable hits so hard. It’s not just a warning; it’s a window into God’s heart. It shows His patience, His justice, and ultimately His willingness to send His own Son—not to condemn, but to redeem. And when you sit with that truth for a moment, the weight of it becomes deeply personal.

This parable doesn’t just ask to be studied. It asks to be felt. It asks to be lived.

Few of Jesus’ parables cut as sharply—or shine as brightly—as the Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen in Matthew 21:33–46 (KJV). It’s a story wrapped in agricultural imagery, but its message reaches straight into the heart of spiritual responsibility, human rebellion, and God’s unwavering purpose.

Let’s walk through it together and explore why this ancient vineyard still speaks to us today.

The Parable: A Vineyard with a History

Jesus begins with a familiar scene:

“There was a certain householder, which planted a vineyard, and hedged it round about, and digged a winepress in it, and built a tower…” (Matthew 21:33, KJV)

Every detail matters. The householder (representing God) doesn’t just plant a vineyard—He equips it with everything needed to flourish. Then He leases it to husbandmen (the leaders of Israel) and goes “into a far country.”

When harvest time arrives, the owner sends servants to collect the fruit. Instead of honoring the agreement, the husbandmen beat, stone, and kill the servants. More servants come; the violence escalates. Finally, the owner sends his son:

“They will reverence my son.” (Matthew 21:37, KJV)

But they don’t. They cast him out and kill him.

Jesus then asks His listeners what the owner will do. They answer:

“He will miserably destroy those wicked men, and will let out his vineyard unto other husbandmen…” (Matthew 21:41, KJV)

And Jesus seals the point with Scripture:

“The stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner…” (Matthew 21:42, KJV)

What Jesus Was Really Saying

This parable wasn’t vague or mysterious to its original audience. The chief priests and Pharisees knew exactly what Jesus meant—and that’s why they wanted to arrest Him (Matthew 21:45–46).

1. God’s Patience Has a Purpose

The repeated sending of servants mirrors the long line of prophets God sent to Israel. Each one carried a message calling the people back to faithfulness. Many were ignored, mistreated, or killed.

Yet God kept sending them.

2. Rejecting the Son Has Consequences

The killing of the son foreshadows Jesus’ own death. The leaders would reject the very cornerstone of God’s redemptive plan.

3. God’s Kingdom Will Bear Fruit—With or Without Us

Jesus declares:

“The kingdom of God shall be taken from you, and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof.” (Matthew 21:43, KJV)

This isn’t about ethnicity but about faithfulness. God’s vineyard will be fruitful, and He entrusts it to those who respond to His Son.

What This Means for Us Today

The parable isn’t just a historical indictment—it’s a spiritual mirror.

Are we tending God’s vineyard or resisting His voice?

We’re all stewards of something: our time, relationships, gifts, influence. The question is whether we’re producing fruit or clinging to control.

Do we welcome God’s correction?

The husbandmen rejected every messenger. We often do the same—ignoring conviction, resisting change, or silencing truth that challenges us.

What place does the Son have in our vineyard?

Jesus is the cornerstone. When He’s rejected, everything collapses. When He’s honored, everything aligns.

The Rejected Stone Still Stands

Jesus’ final words in this passage echo through the centuries:

“Whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken: but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder.” (Matthew 21:44, KJV)

It’s a sobering reminder that encountering Christ always brings transformation. We either fall on Him in humility—or face Him in judgment.

Final Thoughts

The Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen is a story of divine generosity, human rebellion, and God’s unstoppable plan—but it becomes far more than a story when you let it settle into your own life. It nudges you to look honestly at the vineyard God has placed in your hands: your relationships, your gifts, your responsibilities, your faith. None of these things are accidents. They’re entrusted to you with the same care and intention the householder showed when he planted, hedged, and prepared his vineyard.

And then comes the harder part—listening. The parable reminds you that God still sends “servants” into your life: moments of conviction, unexpected encouragement, Scripture that hits a little too close, people who speak truth you didn’t ask for. It’s easy to brush those messengers aside or explain them away. But the story invites you to pause and ask what God might be saying through them, and whether you’re willing to hear it.

Most personal of all is the reminder that the Son comes not to condemn your failures but to redeem your whole vineyard—thorns, weeds, and all. The husbandmen in the parable saw the son as a threat to their control. But when you see Him as the One who restores what you’ve neglected, heals what you’ve broken, and brings fruit where you’ve struggled, the story shifts from warning to hope.

In the end, this parable becomes an invitation: to loosen your grip, to welcome the Son with humility, and to trust that His presence transforms the vineyard you’ve been tending. It’s a call to live gratefully, respond faithfully, and let your life bear the kind of fruit that reflects the generosity of the One who planted it in the first place.

Have you accepted Him yet?

Discovering the Path of Salvation series by Stephen Luckett

The Parable of the Two Sons: Matthew 21:28–32 A Wake‑Up Call to Authentic Obedience

Continuing in the parables in Matthew.

Few of Jesus’ parables cut as directly to the heart as the short but piercing story found in Matthew 21:28–32. Spoken during His final week in Jerusalem, this parable confronts the gap between what we say and what we actually do—a gap as relevant today as it was two thousand years ago.

Jesus begins with a simple scenario:

“A certain man had two sons; and he came to the first, and said, Son, go work to day in my vineyard.” (Matthew 21:28, KJV)

The first son refuses—bluntly. But later, he reconsiders and goes. The second son responds with polished obedience:

“I go, sir” (v. 30)

—yet never sets foot in the vineyard.

Jesus then asks His listeners, many of whom were religious leaders, which son actually did the father’s will. The answer is obvious: the first. But the implications are anything but comfortable.

Words Are Easy. Repentance Is Hard.

The first son’s initial refusal mirrors the posture of many who, at first, resist God. They may live far from His commands, uninterested or even rebellious. But something happens—conviction, humility, awakening—and they turn. Jesus points to tax collectors and harlots as examples of this surprising transformation:

“For John came unto you in the way of righteousness… and the publicans and the harlots believed him.” (v. 32)

These were the people who said “no” to God with their lives, yet later repented and obeyed.

The second son, however, represents those who sound obedient but never follow through. Their lips say “yes,” but their lives say “no.” Jesus directs this warning squarely at the religious elite:

“Ye… repented not afterward, that ye might believe him.” (v. 32)

They had the language of faith, the appearance of devotion, the reputation of righteousness—but not the obedience that matters.

The Vineyard Is Calling

The vineyard in the parable symbolizes God’s work in the world—His kingdom, His mission, His call to righteousness. Every believer is summoned into that vineyard. The question is not whether we know the right words, but whether we actually go.

This parable challenges us to examine:

1. Our Responses

Do we give God polite, spiritual‑sounding answers while avoiding the hard work of obedience?

2. Our Repentance

Are we willing to change course when the Spirit convicts us, even if our past says “no”?

3. Our Authenticity

Do our actions match our declarations of faith?

Grace for the “No” That Becomes “Yes”

One of the most beautiful truths in this parable is that God honors repentance more than reputation. The first son’s story reminds us that a messy beginning does not disqualify us from a faithful ending. God delights in the person who turns, even late, and steps into His will.

A Final Reflection

The parable of the two sons is not merely a critique of ancient religious leaders—it is a mirror held up to every believer. Jesus invites us to move beyond lip service into lived obedience. The Father still calls, “Go work to day in my vineyard.” Our answer is not measured by our words, but by our steps.

Discovering the Path of Salvation series by Stephen Luckett.

The Parables of Matthew: Matthew 18:23–35

Continuing the study of the Parables of Matthew

As I sat down to reflect on the words of our Lord Jesus in the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, the parable of the unforgiving servant in chapter 18, verses 23 through 35, struck my heart. In the majestic tongue of the King James Bible, it reads thus:

Matthew 18:23–35 (KJV) 23 Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants. 24 And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents. 25 But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. 26 The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. 27 Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt. 28 But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellow servants, which owed him an hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest. 29 And his fellow servant fell down at his feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. 30 And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt. 31 So when his fellow servants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. 32 Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: 33 Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellow servant, even as I had pity on thee? 34 And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him. 35 So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses.

I have read this passage many times, yet each time it pierces me deeper. Here is the Lord Jesus teaching His disciples—and us—about the very heart of the kingdom of heaven. It begins not with grand mysteries alone, but with the plain matter of mercy and forgiveness.

Consider the enormity of the first servant’s debt: ten thousand talents. In those days, a single talent of gold or silver was a vast sum, enough to sustain a household for years. Ten thousand such talents was an impossible amount, beyond any mortal means to repay. This is no mere financial reckoning; it is a picture of our sin before a holy God. We stand before Him owing an infinite debt that we can never discharge by our own strength or promises. Yet when that servant fell down and cried, “Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all,” the king was moved with compassion. He did not grant mere time; he forgave the entire debt—utterly, freely, completely.

What grace! What boundless mercy! I see myself in that servant, brought low before the throne, pleading for what I could never earn. And the Lord, in His compassion, loosed me from the chains of guilt and condemnation through the blood of His Son. As it is written elsewhere, “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). The debt is cancelled; the account is settled.

But then comes the bitter twist that humbles me every time. The same servant, newly forgiven of an unimaginable sum, goes out and finds a fellow servant who owes him a mere hundred pence—a trifling amount by comparison. Instead of extending the mercy he hath received, he lay hands on him, taketh him by the throat, and casts him into prison. The hypocrisy stings! How quickly the forgiven one forgets the forgiveness he has obtained.

When the king heard thereof, his wrath was kindled. “O thou wicked servant,” he declared, “I forgave thee all that debt… Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellowservant, even as I had pity on thee?” And so the servant was delivered to the tormentors until the impossible debt should be paid.

The application our Lord maketh is plain and solemn: “So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses.” Forgiveness received must produce forgiveness given. If we clutch our grudges, harbor bitterness, or refuse to pardon those who wrong us—even when their offences are small compared to what we ourselves have been forgiven—we place ourselves under the very judgment we have escaped.

I confess that this solemn truth hath often pierced my conscience deeply. How frequently have I cherished a wound, rehearsed an insult in my mind, or denied mercy to another, all the while forgetting the boundless sea of grace that hath been lavished upon me? The parable summons me—and every soul who profess the name of Christ—to a profound and genuine forgiveness: not a shallow pretense or mere external courtesy, but a true release from the heart, as the Lord Himself demanded.

As our Saviour concludeth in Matthew 18:35 (KJV), “So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses.” This forgiveness must spring from the depths of the inner man, free of grudge or reservation, mirroring the abundant, gracious pardon we ourselves have received from God. May the Holy Spirit ever work in us such a heart, that we might forgive as we have been forgiven, walking in the liberty and peace of His kingdom.

Dear reader, if thou hast tasted of this mercy, let it flow through thee to others. When offences come—as they surely will—remember the ten thousand talents forgiven thee. Let not the hundred pence become a prison for another, lest thou find thyself imprisoned by the very measure thou use.

May the Lord grant us grace to forgive as we have been forgiven, that we may walk worthy of the kingdom of heaven, where mercy reigns and love never fails. Amen.

Discovering the Path of Salvation series by Stephen Luckett

Parables of Matthew: A Reflection on Matthew 18:12–14

Continuing with the study of the Parables in Matthew

There are moments when a passage of Scripture doesn’t just speak to me—it stops me. Matthew 18:12–14 is one of those passages. Every time I read it, I feel as though Jesus is gently placing His hand on my shoulder, reminding me of something I’m far too quick to forget.

Jesus says:

“How think ye? if a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray?” — Matthew 18:12 (KJV)

Those words hit differently when I imagine myself as that one sheep.

When I Realize I’m the One Who Wandered

It’s easy to read this parable and think of “other people”—the ones who drift, the ones who wander, the ones who lose their way. But the more honest I am with myself, the more I see my own footprints in the dust, leading away from the Shepherd.

Sometimes I wander through distraction. Sometimes through stubbornness. Sometimes through fear or weariness.

And yet, Jesus describes a Shepherd who doesn’t shrug His shoulders and say, “Well, at least I still have ninety-nine.” Instead, He goes after the one. He goes after me.

The Joy of Being Found

Jesus continues:

“And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep, than of the ninety and nine which went not astray.” — Matthew 18:13 (KJV)

That line always humbles me. The Shepherd doesn’t scold. He doesn’t drag the sheep back in frustration. He rejoices. He celebrates the return of the one who wandered.

I think about the times in my life when God has pulled me out of places I had no business being—moments when I felt lost, ashamed, or spiritually numb. And yet, when I turned back, I didn’t meet condemnation. I met joy. Grace. Relief. A Shepherd who was glad to carry me home.

The Heart of the Father

Jesus ends the parable with a truth that steadies me every time:

“Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.” — Matthew 18:14 (KJV)

Not one. Not the strong ones. Not the weak ones. Not the wandering ones. Not the ones who feel like they’ve messed up too many times.

This is the heart of God: persistent, pursuing, patient love.

What This Parable Means for My Walk Today

When I sit with this passage, a few things rise to the surface for me:

I’m never too far gone for God to seek me.
My value to Him isn’t diminished by my failures.
His joy in restoring me is real, not reluctant.
I’m called to reflect that same heart toward others who wander.

This parable isn’t just a story about sheep. It’s a story about me—and about the Shepherd who refuses to give up on me.

And honestly, that truth alone is enough to carry me through the day.

Discovering the Path of Salvation books by Stephen Luckett

Parables of Matthew: A Personal Reflection on Matthew 13:52

Continuing the Deep dive into the parables in the Book of Matthew.

When I first lingered over the words of Matthew 13:52, something in me stirred—something equal parts curiosity and conviction. The verse reads:

“Then said he unto them, Therefore every scribe which is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old.” — Matthew 13:52 (KJV)

I’ve read many parables, but this one feels different. It’s short, almost easy to overlook, yet it carries a depth that keeps unfolding the more I sit with it.

Seeing Myself as the Householder

As I meditate on this verse, I imagine myself as that “householder.” Christ paints a picture of someone who has a storeroom—an inner treasury—filled with both the old and the new. And the more I think about it, the more I realize how true this is of my own walk with God.

There are the old treasures:

Scriptures I’ve known since childhood
Lessons learned through trials
Moments when God proved Himself faithful

And then there are the new treasures:

Fresh insights from passages I’ve read a hundred times
Convictions that challenge my comfort
Unexpected encouragements that meet me right where I am

Christ seems to be saying that a disciple—especially one who teaches or shares truth—should draw from both. Not clinging only to the familiar, nor chasing only the novel, but weaving them together into a living testimony.

Learning as a Lifelong Calling

The phrase “instructed unto the kingdom of heaven” hits me hard. It reminds me that being a follower of Christ isn’t passive. It’s a continual apprenticeship. I’m not just storing information; I’m being shaped, trained, and transformed.

Sometimes I forget that. I slip into thinking I already know enough, or that the lessons I’ve learned in the past are sufficient. But this parable nudges me—gently, firmly—to keep learning, to keep seeking, to keep letting God expand the treasury of my heart.

Bringing Forth the Treasure

What really challenges me is the action in the parable: “bringeth forth.” The householder doesn’t hoard the treasure. He shares it.

That convicts me. How often do I keep quiet when I should speak? How often do I hide what God has taught me because I’m afraid it won’t be received well, or because I underestimate its value?

This parable reminds me that the treasures God has placed in me—old and new—aren’t meant to stay locked away. They’re meant to bless others.

A Living, Growing Faith

What I love most about this verse is how it captures the dynamic nature of faith. It honors the old without letting it become stale. It welcomes the new without discarding what came before.

In my own life, I’m learning to embrace that balance. To cherish the foundational truths that have anchored me for years, while also staying open to the fresh work God is doing in me today.

And maybe that’s the heart of this parable: A disciple of Christ is someone whose faith is both rooted and growing, both grounded and expanding—someone who treasures the whole journey.

Discovering the Path of Salvation books by Stephen Luckett

When the Net Comes In: A Personal Reflection on Matthew 13:47–50

Continuing our study of the Parables in Matthew.

I’ve always been drawn to the parables of Jesus, but Matthew 13:47–50 has a way of stopping me in my tracks every time I read it. Christ compares the kingdom of heaven to “a net, that was cast into the sea, and gathered of every kind” (Matthew 13:47, KJV). As someone who often feels like I’m swimming through life’s currents—sometimes gracefully, sometimes frantically—this image hits close to home.

A Net Big Enough for Everyone

When I picture that great net sweeping through the waters, I’m reminded that God’s kingdom is wide, welcoming, and patient. The net doesn’t discriminate. It gathers “of every kind”—the broken, the proud, the humble, the wandering, the devoted. People like me on my best days, and people like me on my worst.

There’s something comforting in knowing that God’s reach extends far beyond what I can see or understand. Yet there’s also something sobering in what comes next.

The Sorting

Jesus goes on to say that when the net is full, the fishermen “sat down, and gathered the good into vessels, but cast the bad away” (Matthew 13:48, KJV). I can almost feel the weight of that moment—the quiet, deliberate sorting. No chaos. No confusion. Just a final, righteous separation.

And then Christ explains the meaning plainly: “So shall it be at the end of the world” (Matthew 13:49, KJV). The angels will come. The wicked will be separated from the just. It’s one of those passages that refuses to let me stay comfortable. It calls me to examine my heart, my motives, my habits, my loyalties.

A Warning Wrapped in Mercy

The imagery becomes even more intense when Jesus describes the fate of those who reject God: they will be cast “into the furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth” (Matthew 13:50, KJV). It’s not a verse I can gloss over. It’s not meant to be.

But even in this warning, I sense mercy. Christ tells us the truth because He loves us. He reveals the end so we can choose differently in the present. The net hasn’t been drawn to shore yet. There is still time to turn, to repent, to cling to Him.

Living With the Net in Mind

When I meditate on this parable, I feel a renewed urgency—not a panicked fear, but a steady, reverent awareness. I want to live as someone who belongs in the vessels of the good. I want my life to reflect the grace that pulled me out of the deep in the first place.

And I want to remember that the net is still gathering. That means the people around me—family, friends, strangers, even those who frustrate me—are all swimming in the same waters of God’s mercy. My role isn’t to sort them. My role is to shine Christ’s light while there’s still time.

Closing Thoughts

Matthew 13:47–50 reminds me that the kingdom of heaven is both inclusive and holy. God casts His net wide, but He also calls us to transformation. The parable challenges me to live with eternity in view, to take Christ’s words seriously, and to let His grace shape who I am becoming.

Every time I read it, I feel the tug of that net again—firm, gentle, and full of purpose.

Discovering the Path of Salvation