I am here this morning not really to deliver a message, but more of a confession. To quote my favorite holiday elf: “I’m in love, and I don’t care who knows it.” We’ve been doing a Bible study at work on Tuesday mornings with some of the guys. One of them is touching a Bible for the very first time. My boss was gracious enough to buy him his own Bible with his name on it. We sit there and guide him through it, left or right, keep going right, you’ll run past Mark and then you’re there. It’s a confusing thing if you’ve never dove into it or had it explained to you.

I’ve had people ask, “What’s with all the numbers?” There’s a lot to it. Then you start talking translations, Old Testament, New Testament, and they don’t even know what that means. So it’s been really fun to do a Bible study with someone who is probably reading these books for the very first time. We’ve been going through the Gospels, starting with Jesus’ ministry, reading the same account in Matthew, then Mark, Luke, and John, comparing the different flavors each writer brings. It’s a rich and rewarding way to read.

I am here to tell you that I am in love with a man. His name is Jesus. I’ve been explaining the red letters and what that means, because there are those who don’t even know. I have to share this story. At Brave Park one time, I could see one of the boys sitting on his cot with a headlamp on, flipping through his Bible with a look of concern. I asked what was wrong. He had been reading in the Sermon on the Mount, full pages of red letters, and had his light set on red so as not to disturb us. He thought the story had disappeared. He flipped the light to white, the letters appeared, and the relief on his face was priceless. A small thing, but it stuck with me.

There is a lot about the Bible that I can understand why people are dismissive of or questioning. The history, the many translations, words that carry meaning in one language that don’t translate cleanly into another. When you think about how many times the Bible has been translated, and yet we have people who went before us doing the painstaking work of putting it into our languages while keeping close to the original message, it’s worth taking seriously. It is worrisome when you can pull up a translation and find it’s not even the same story. It is important to stay close to the original meaning, and to do the diligence of learning what the original words were actually saying.

I remember a friend once saying, “What do you think about the Bible? I could write one too.” I said, “Really? That’s quite a book to write.” Not just a historical document, but one with such profound wisdom and insight spanning thousands of years, written by dozens of authors, cohesive in its message. Yes, you go ahead and try.

I am not Jewish, and yet there is a lot in this book that the Jewish people hold precious. It is their sacred, holy word, and they have done remarkably well at preserving it. Scholars using X-rays and lasers were able to scan the Dead Sea Scrolls without physically unrolling the fragile parchment, and then compared the text to today’s Jewish translation still followed today. It was word for word. To me, that is praise to God, and credit to those who have preserved His Word rather than meddled with it.

The Authenticity of Jesus

I want to talk about the authenticity of Jesus, because we have historical accounts of Him beyond just this book. We have the four Gospels, told by four different eyewitnesses giving their account of the time they spent with the Lord Jesus. We have the Roman historian Tacitus, who recorded that a man named Jesus was put to death and executed by Pontius Pilate. We have the letters of Paul, a driven, meticulous investigator who wanted to get down to the truth and who sought out people who had personally seen and known Jesus.

You could look at all of that and say it’s not enough. It’s easy to be a skeptic in an age when even video evidence is questioned. But to me, that is more than enough evidence that there was a man named Jesus who lived, breathed, walked, and was among us here on earth.

So then, what does that tell us? Let’s look at the life of Jesus. What did He do? What did He want? What did He call for? What did He ask of us?

He Was Not Selling Anything

How many people here love door-to-door salesmen? They are prepped, scripted, with a rebuttal for every excuse you can offer. But when we look at Jesus, what was He selling? No credit card number, no down payment, no limited time offer. He wasn’t using tactics.

So what’s the catch with this man named Jesus? He says the cost of following Him is everything, but He’s not saying, “Give it to me.” He’s saying, “You want to follow Me? Count the cost first.” Time and time again, His following grew, and He would essentially say, “Are you sure you want to do this? Because this is what it will take.” And they would walk away. He had twelve who followed Him closely, and then crowds of five thousand. He kept making the cost clear, kept dividing the genuine from the curious. He was the humble King. God became a baby. No laser show, no trumpets, no grand spectacle. He came as an infant, lived as an ordinary man, and yet was utterly extraordinary in every moment.

He ate with us. He drank with us. He walked the earth. He didn’t float above it. He withdrew from crowds to quiet places. He said again and again, “Do not do this for show. Do things in secret, so that you may receive your reward.” That doesn’t sound like a politician. He didn’t request meetings with great leaders or the powerful. He sought out the sinners, the tax collectors, the ones nobody wanted around, and He sat with them.

The Selflessness of Christ

What makes me love Him most is this: the selflessness of Christ. He is the ultimate example of it, and He preached it time and time again. He came not to be served, but to serve.

Going Beyond Expectations. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus covers what’s expected of people and then says, “I’m asking for more than that.” Not an eye for an eye, but turning the other cheek. Not just the required mile, but two. This came from a Roman law that required Jews to carry a soldier’s belongings for one mile upon request. Jesus said, “Go two.” Happily go the one that’s required, and then keep going without being asked.

Loving the Unlovable. In Luke 14, Jesus says, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors. If you do, they may invite you back, and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

Everyone here knows someone easy to love, someone you’d happily go the extra mile for because they give right back. That’s good. But that’s not what Jesus is asking. He’s asking us to go the extra mile for the one who complains, who asks more than we want to give, who cannot repay us. I remember going to a customer’s house to change a dishwasher and finding the space around it in a terrible, neglected state. This family clearly needed help and care and love, not just a plumber. I got my mask and some bleach and cleaned it up as best I could. Loving others gets uncomfortable fast. Sometimes it’s thrust upon you. Go beyond the expected. Love the unlovable.

Giving Beyond Our Own Means. When Jesus had five thousand people following Him, His disciples said, “Send them away, it’s late, let them go find food.” He said, “Let’s try to feed them.” When’s the last time you were around five thousand people? It’s an enormous crowd. And instead of saying there’s no chance, He said, let’s try. The miracle happened. How many times have we helped someone knowing full well we needed help too, and gave anyway? It’s hard to part with money when your own bills are waiting. But Father, I’m doing what You ask. This person came to me. Give beyond your own means.

Serving the Least. This one is often overlooked because we don’t fully understand the culture of the time, but when Jesus washed His disciples’ feet, it was the King of Kings, God on earth, taking off sandals and washing feet that had walked barefoot roads all day. He did this not reluctantly but willingly, lovingly, as an honor. Peter was embarrassed. “No, You can’t wash my feet.” But Jesus insisted. There is nothing He considers beneath Him when it comes to loving those He calls His own.

He Cares About the Small Things. At the wedding in Cana, His mother came to Him and said they were out of wine. He said, “Woman, why do you bother Me with such a thing?” And then He immediately took care of it. That is why I love Him. He’s not too large for our small requests. He’s involved. He cares about the smallest details of our lives. As a parent, I love when my kids come to me with small things. The day they stop talking to me will be a hard one. Bother Him with the little things. He loves to hear them.

Breaking Norms to Love. He healed on the Sabbath. The religious leaders were outraged. And His answer cut straight through their hypocrisy: if your donkey fell in a well on the Sabbath, would you leave it there? He calmed the storm for frightened disciples, not mocking their fear, not going back to sleep, but caring for them because there is nothing too small for His attention. And the shortest verse in all of Scripture, “Jesus wept,” (John 11:35), carries more weight than entire chapters. The empathy, the compassion, the realness of who He is.

Submission to the Father’s Will. In the garden of Gethsemane, even He prayed, “Father, if there is another way, yet not My will but Yours be done.” (Luke 22:42). How many of us can truly set aside our own will like that? It is the hardest thing any of us will ever do. He does not call us to suffer for suffering’s sake, but to do whatever it takes, to give up our own will for the Father’s, to lay down our lives for others.

The Ultimate Act: Forgiveness. He took it all the way to the cross. Even there: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34). Forgiveness is an act of selflessness. I have to admit something. I was driving on the highway and a motorcyclist got upset that I was in his way. He made his displeasure very clear and then sped off well over the limit. I thought about it the whole way home, and I’m ashamed to say that darker thoughts crossed my mind about his safety. Here I was, irritated at someone probably already having a bad day, entertaining thoughts of his misfortune. Forgiving someone, truly forgiving them, is one of the most selfless things you will ever do.

Jesus said seventy times seven, meaning you just keep forgiving. How many times have each of us confessed the same thing, “Lord, I’m sorry, there it is again”? Yet there He is on the cross, beaten and mocked, doing what human nature does to what it doesn’t understand, and He says, “Forgive them, they don’t know.” The perfect act of selflessness.

Why This Matters

How many of us can truly be selfless like Christ? It flies in the face of our human nature, which is to look out for ourselves first. Societies are often classified by how well they care for the sick, the needy, the weak, those who cannot care for themselves. An advanced society is one whose needs are met well enough that it can look outward and care for those who would otherwise be left behind.

This man, Jesus, came to absolutely give Himself up for others. You could look at the historical account and say, “He’s just a man.” I’ve heard that before. There’s more than enough evidence that a man named Jesus existed. But I see someone who came to this earth asking for nothing, wanting to give everything, who said, “Love one another as I have loved you.” (John 13:34). That love, which I have felt my whole life, compels me to love others until they feel it too.

In Luke 14, large crowds were traveling with Jesus, and He turned to them and said, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, even their own life, such a person cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26). The word translated “hate” in the Greek, and even in the early German translations, carries more the sense of “if you love this more than Me.” It’s about priority, not cruelty. “Whoever does not carry their cross and follow Me cannot be My disciple. Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you.” (Luke 14:27-29).

I know a concrete slab that has sat unfinished for years, pipes stubbing up out of the ground and no walls above them. We’ve all driven by and wondered what happened there. Jesus is saying: if you haven’t weighed the cost, don’t start what you won’t finish. If you’re going to follow Him, be willing to see it through.

My final note is from Oswald Chambers: “It is inbred in us that we have to do exceptional things for God. We have to be exceptional in the ordinary things, to be holy in mean streets among mean people, and this is not learned in five minutes.” We are not called to do great, glorious, wondrous things. We are called to live the everyday life: to eat with, talk with, live with, love with, cry with, and empathize with, even when it’s inconvenient, even on our day of rest. When we feel the love of Jesus, we are compelled to try.

I encourage you: if it’s been a while, go back and read the Gospels. Read the account in Matthew, then read it in Mark, then Luke, then John. Notice the differences, and wonder about them. You’ll find some wonderful details along the way, including the one where Matthew, Mark, and Luke all say that one of the disciples drew a sword in the garden, and then John comes along and tells you plainly: it was Peter. Of course it was Peter.

Jesus is someone I will devote my life to. There is no doubt in my mind that He walked this earth, that He loved unconditionally, and that He rode in not on a great white horse but on a humble donkey. The humble King. He did not come to be served but to serve, and He asks the same of us. Not in grand gestures, not in performances of religion, but in the quiet, daily, costly choosing of others over self. That is selflessness. That is the life He modeled. That is the life He invites us to live. Be love.