It's Getting "RUF" Out There

CTK Raleigh Sermons is a ministry of Christ the King at Presbyterian Church located in Raleigh, North Carolina. CTK is a community rooted in the depth of the gospel, refined by hard conversations, fueled by meaningful relationships, and committed to redemptive work in Raleigh. You may be seated.

Good to see you all here this morning. I want to welcome you as others have. In Jesus' name, we're so glad to see you. I'm really excited to welcome two people up in just a moment. One who's going to preach for us and one who's going to lead us through the Lord's supper this morning. Both of whom I've heard about from one of my sons who is in RUF at Western Carolina. He's a sophomore there. Some of you will remember Ezra with the long curly hair. He has really benefited greatly from the ministry of Andrew Shank. He's going to be bringing us God's word this morning. He was an intern under the pastor before me, Elliot Grudem, at this church, as well as part of RUF. So I'm really glad to welcome him.

And then I heard about Thomas Kuhn, who spoke at the RUF fall conference, and Ezra was like, "He's great, Dad." So from Ezra, this is one of the best preachers in the PCA who's coming to speak to us this morning. Andrew, come on up.

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Do I have to now? One of the best—I hope not. Okay, this is really cool. This is really fun. I'm Andrew Shank. I'm the RUF campus minister at Western Carolina. If you go to Asheville and keep driving west for another hour, you'll end up where we are. It's in Cullowhee, which you just pronounce as quickly as you can and you'll get by.

It's really fun, and like Jeff said, it's been a pleasure to get to know Ezra. He doesn't have this curtain of long hair anymore. He got a haircut last year and, like, physically and metaphorically came out of his shell. It's been beautiful to see him flourish and have fun at Western. He's one of our favorite students. He's on ministry team and has been a lot of fun to get to know.

I went to NC State. I was solely in the Wilkins era. Jeff's first year was 2004, which is my freshman year, and his last year was 2009, which is when I graduated with degrees in mechanical engineering and religious studies. One of those degrees I use a lot and the other I don't use that much anymore. But I was about three quarters of the way done with it when I started sensing a call to ministry, so I finished it.

I got to intern here at CTK back in the elementary school days. I remember fondly walking down Hillsborough to the Aerobics Room at the YMCA in that era. Playing in the worship band at Saint Savior was a lot of fun too. So it's really good, really fun to be back and see all of you. Thanks for having me.

The Purpose of Parables

This morning, we're going to look at one of the parables of Jesus. I'm doing this series with my students this semester. We often think about the parables as kind of cute stories, almost like sermon illustrations that Jesus uses to help us remember what he's talking about. But as we've looked at the parables with students this semester, what we find more and more is that the parables are meant to disrupt us.

The parables, as stories, when we start hearing a story, we let our guard down. We enter the world of the story, and we get shaped in ways that we don't expect. Because if Jesus looked at us and said, "You're saved by grace," we'd say, "Of course." But when he tells a story about people who have worked all day getting paid just as much as people who only worked an hour, we're like, "Well, that's not fair." And Jesus says, "That's the point. That's why I'm telling you this in a story."

We have all these assumptions and expectations about how we work, how God works, how salvation works, how grace works. Jesus needs to rewire some of these. He tells these stories that swing past our defenses, and then they come back like a wrecking ball and knock them all down so that Jesus can rebuild them in a way that's true.

This morning, we're going to look at just two parables, but they're really short, so don't worry—it'll be quick. But if you've been distracted by thinking about Miley Cyrus since I mentioned wrecking balls, let's instead turn our attention to God's word. Stand, and we'll read together, Matthew 13:44-46.

The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it. — Matthew 13:44-46

Let's pray. Father, we thank you for your word and the truth that tells us about who you are, who we are, and what you've done to bring us back to yourself.

As we look at this passage this morning, I pray that you would give us eyes to see and ears to hear. Change us because we've been in contact with you through your word and your spirit. In Christ's name, amen. You can be seated.

How Do We Change?

So this parable brings up the question: How do we change? Is change possible? Do I need to change? We so desperately want to change, but sometimes we've tried so hard to change in so many different ways and it hasn't worked. What does it take for us to change?

This parable confronts something about the way that we think about ourselves. Because what we all just by default assume—because of when we live, because of where we live, and because we traverse the halls of academia and spend time in Broughton and Riddick and other names of buildings that I can't remember, and some that might not be there anymore—because we're giving our energy and our time to educating ourselves and other people, we think that change comes by thinking, by learning, by our intention.

If you've ever taken a philosophy class, you heard about this guy named Descartes who was plagued with the question: How do I know that this is real? How do I know that I exist? How do I know this whole world isn't just a dream, that I'm not just plugged into the matrix? How do I know that you exist and that this isn't all just a figment of my imagination?

So he sat and he thought and he thought and he thought. And deep down at the bottom of everything, he found one truth that he could cling to. If nothing else is real, if nothing else makes sense, I'm still thinking. I'm thinking, therefore I exist.

"I think, therefore I am."

The definition of what it meant to be human for Descartes was that man is a thinking thing. Fast forward to the Enlightenment, fast forward to today—this is just an assumption of our world: that we think, therefore we are. We see this all around us. How do we solve the problems of the world? More education. Or raising awareness. If people know better, we just assume that they will do better.

I work on a college campus, and I will tell you, you could not find a single person on my campus that would argue and debate you that binge drinking is a really good thing, that it promotes a healthy lifestyle and is good for your body. Everybody knows that it's bad for them. And yet every weekend, what do hundreds and thousands of college students around the country do? They go and they drink way too much and they make really bad decisions. They know it's not good for them. They know they're not gonna enjoy the next day, and yet they still do it.

Or did you ever watch GI Joe? At the end, those little morality lessons. Because knowing is half the battle. Because if you know better, you will do better. We believe that what we know, what we think, determines who we are and what we do. But our stories this morning tell us that that's not actually true.

What Governs Us

Jesus says it's not what we think that governs who we are and what we do, but what we love. Mankind, you and me, are not primarily thinking things. We are primarily loving things.

These stories are striking in their brevity. A lot of the parables, Jesus meanders around a theme, and there are lots of characters involved. But in these stories, we don't get any background. We don't get any plot development. We don't know anything about the man in the field or the merchant, or we don't even know that much about the treasure or the pearl.

All that we see in these stories is this:

"The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy, he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who on finding one pearl of great value went, sold all that he had, and bought it." — Matthew 13:44-46

In other words, these men, whether they're looking for it or not, find something that captivates them, that they see as incredibly beautiful, incredibly valuable. And immediately, without consulting parents or friends or spouses, they liquidate their assets and do whatever it takes to possess it. He buys the whole field. He goes and sells all that he has to get the pearl. It's an obsession. Nothing will stand in the way of obtaining this thing of beauty.

And there's no cost to it. In his joy, in his excitement, he goes and he sells all that he has to make it his own. And this is a picture of our hearts. When we treasure something, our entire self is bent towards it. And any time we spend on it will be time well spent. Any money we spend on it will not be considered expensive.

Anything else we have to give up to get it will be deemed a worthy and reasonable sacrifice.

It's kinda like when I was at NC State. Surprise. I went to State. I didn't do a ton of school sports stuff, but by my first and second senior years, I was a double major and they had no overlap. Saturdays were for NC State football. If there was a home game, that's what Saturdays were for. It was this deep and abiding love that I had—something I enjoyed, something I treasured, something I found beautiful. It wasn't difficult on a Saturday morning for a home tailgate to set an alarm and get up early as a college student. My college students don't get up on Saturday morning for anything. But I would get up very early on Saturdays to tailgate, and it wasn't oppressive to be in that September heat of Raleigh in the tailgating lot. It was joyful to go and buy food, to invite others to come and eat with us and celebrate. It wasn't crazy for me to take off my shirt and paint my torso red. It was a reasonable act of devotion to this thing that I loved.

It didn't matter what else was going on in my life. Three tests on Monday, a senior design update due, a 20-page lab report to draft, family or friends visiting. It wasn't even a question. It never crossed my mind to skip an NC State football game.

What do you love? What are the non-negotiables in your life? What are the things that no matter what else is going on, will get your attention? This will take precedent. Doesn't matter how sick I am, this thing is more important than rest. Doesn't matter who I'm with, this thing is more important than the image-bearers of God that I'm with. Doesn't matter how much work I have to do. I am going to this thing. I am viewing this show. I am going to get this experience.

What are the non-negotiables in your life?

Jesus tells us that there actually aren't any. There are just things that we treasure. And whatever that is, we will give anything and everything for.

What We Love Changes Us

But there's something else that happens with what we treasure. What we love actually starts to change us. One commentator put it like this: what we revere, we resemble—either to our ruin or restoration.

Do you remember the phone app Candy Crush? You're swiping jelly beans and peppermints and getting them to line up in certain ways and getting all these combos. People spent way too much money on this tiny little app just to take another turn. But they did studies on people who hit certain thresholds of how much they played this game. And they found that people who played this game the most reported that when they closed their eyes to lay down at night and go to sleep, when they closed their eyes, they saw superimposed on the back of their eyelids a grid. They would plan out Candy Crush moves because they had given their attention and their love to this thing, and it started to change them.

Parents, this is why you care so much about who your kids spend time with. Youth group, this is why your parents care so much about who you spend time with—because the people that you love, you start to look like. This is why it's infuriating to play games like Catchphrase or Taboo with me and my brothers, because we have so many shared experiences and so many shared loves that we can say a word and just blast through cards. The people and things that we love start to change us.

What we revere, we resemble—either to ruin or restoration.

This is what Jesus says we're like. We're not primarily thinking things. We are primarily loving things. In other words, we were made to worship. We were made to find something incredibly valuable and give ourselves to it.

The problem is that we often love the wrong things, or we love the right things but in the wrong order or too much. Of course, the word for this is idolatry. Something you've probably heard if you've spent any time around RUF and probably around CTK. Idolatry, which Tim Keller defines as a good thing that we make an ultimate thing. We say, unless I have that, I am nothing.

Thinking about our idols in this way of beauty is actually really helpful. Because generally, what we idolize are good things—good things that we find beautiful and find worth pursuing. Good things like acceptance and friendship and community. Good things like the health and success of our children. Good things like a healthy marriage, like a good work ethic, a job that provides for our family and helps to shape the world in positive ways.

But what happens if that good thing becomes the ultimate thing? What happens if that is the pearl for you? Spend some time thinking about that today. What happens to my relationships? What happens to my time? What happens to my faith and my obedience if my GPA is the thing that I can't live without? ChatGPT looks a lot more tempting if GPA is your treasure.

What we idolize, we imitate. What we revere, we resemble either to our ruin or our restoration. What we love, what we treasure governs what we do. It governs how we think and what we think about, what we expect out of our relationships, how we spend our time and money, how we even define what a good week is.

And this truth that we are what we love is why rules actually aren't that helpful for us. If you come from a church background that has lots and lots of rules and expectations, you probably often think that God is angry with you because we're not very good at keeping the rules. The rules don't change what we love. And this is why when we make those New Year's resolutions, they fizzle out by February because rules don't actually change us. If we follow them, they wear us out and make us prideful. If we break them, we feel guilty and ashamed. And rules for many are just an invitation to disobedience.

At Western Carolina where I work, we're the Catamounts, and so there's a fountain on campus called the Catafount. From the Catafount, you can walk to the university center, and there's a bell tower in the way, and you can walk underneath our bell tower, but nobody does. There's this legend, this jinx on campus that if you walk under the bell tower before you graduate, you won't graduate on time. So it's really fun for me when I'm walking from the Catafount to the university center to walk into the bell tower and just see how people react to it. You can sit and watch the bell tower and the flow of traffic just diverges around it. Regardless of where people are going, they will not walk under the bell tower until it's two in the morning when they're coming back from a cookout run, and they're all just like, "Hey, I dare you to run under that thing." The rule invites the disobedience.

When we see a "stay off the grass" sign, we just kind of want to, just a little bit. Wet paint—how wet though? Can I check this? Or in theological terms, Paul says the law said "do not covet," and sin produced covetousness in me.

But rules are comfortable. They let us measure how we're doing, but they'll never actually change you.

How Do We Change?

To circle back to our original question, how do we change? What makes change possible? Change in our actions, change in our thoughts, change in our lives—real change only happens when there's a change in what we love. How do we change? We need a new love. We need a new affection.

And now maybe you recognize the problem. How do we do that? How do we change what we love? Because the premise of every romantic comedy ever written is that the heart wants what the heart wants. And unlikely as it is that Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks should end up together, they do by the end of the movie. What we are designed and wired to love something, and that fact will never change. But what we love can be replaced.

What it takes for us to change is to fall in love with something else, really with someone else. You will never know lasting change in your life for the better unless you fall more and more in love with Jesus. And how do we do that? It's the same way we grow in love for anyone. We spend time with them. We speak to him in prayer. We hear from him in the word, and we spend time with his friends. We hear about Jesus' love for us from one another, the ways that he's working in one another's lives. And as we get to know him, as we spend time with his friends, as we talk to him, our love for him will start to crowd out those other loves in our hearts.

And as that happens, as you grow in love for Jesus, you start to find that the time you spend with him isn't costly. The things you give up for him aren't a sacrifice. They're reasonable acts of devotion. He becomes the new nonnegotiable in your life, and you start to change because what or who we revere, we resemble—in Christ's case, to our restoration.

But maybe you're seeing a problem. I just spent twenty-five or so minutes telling you that you are not primarily a thinking thing. You're primarily a loving thing. And then I gave you some stuff to do. Go read the Bible and pray and spend time with Jesus' people, which are all really good things to do. The spirit works in us through the word.

Prayer is us speaking to God and reorienting our perspective and connecting with the heart of Jesus and all these things. But this whole time, I've been talking as if we're the subject and Jesus is the object. Right? He's the pearl. Or for you math people out there that English grammar doesn't quite make sense—what if this is autobiographical? What if Jesus isn't talking first about your heart but his?

Whenever Jesus starts a parable with "the kingdom of heaven is like," usually the first thing he talks about is himself. So what if this parable isn't just about the things that we do for love, but what he did for love? What if this parable first is about the Son of God himself who in search of fine pearls found one of great value and then went and sold all that he had to make it his own?

What if the story is about the one who was rich beyond all splendor, all for love's sake becoming poor so that he might make you his own? That's what we believe that Jesus has done—has given up the glories of heaven, has taken on the form of a servant, has given away all of it to make you his own. Which means that you are the pearl. You are the treasure.

And Jesus looked at you and saw you in whatever the reality of your life is this week—the questions in your head, the thoughts about your spouse and your children and your parents and your professors and your classmates, like, whatever you are terrified that somebody will overhear in your thought life and "did I just say that out loud?" Jesus sees you in all of that and joyfully endures the cross to make you his own.

I think the fact that Jesus loves us like that is the most powerful thing that will grow our love for him. I can try and drum up and will up love and affection for Jesus, and it's like me trying to drum up and will up the motivation to exercise. It just doesn't happen. But when I see him beholding me and saying, "Andrew, I want you no matter what"—that melts me. And it's easy for me to then lean to him and love him more.

Jesus loves you like that. That helps us to see him as beautiful. That helps us to love him more. Look at Jesus in all of his beauty and all of his love and welcome for you, and he will change you.

Prayer

Father, again, we thank you for your word, the truth that it reveals to us, the love that it reveals to us. We confess, Father, there are so many areas that we need to change, so many ways that we want to change, and yet we find it incredibly difficult. And we keep going about it the wrong way.

Father, would you help change us in the best ways because we see the best one—because we see the best one loving us, giving up everything for us to make us his own? Father, would the truth that we are treasured by God sink deep into our hearts and change the way we think about ourselves, about one another, the things that we love, the things that we pursue?

Would our love for him grow, and would it crowd out all the other loves in our heart? Do this we pray. For we ask it in Christ's name. Amen.

Let's stand and sing together.