When Jesus preached the Sermon on the Mount, He spoke as one who had authority, and not as one of the scribes (Matthew 7:29). What does this mean? Well, the sermon in Matthew chapters 5–7 was a master class on Kingdom living. No parables. No hidden meanings. Just a straightforward lesson that went to the core of how we are to live in God’s Kingdom. It was refreshingly new and powerfully insightful.
While the rabbis before Him focused on keeping the letter of the law and ascribed guilt or innocence based on outward action, Jesus went deeper. In the sermon, He taught that we could avoid committing the sinful act and still be guilty of sinning. How? Because though we may not cross the line outwardly, God is concerned with what’s happening in the heart. Consider these words from Jesus’ sermon:
“You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’
But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire.” (Matthew 5:21–22 ESV).
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’
But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” (Matthew 5:27–28 ESV).
“Again you have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.’
But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God,
or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King.” (Matthew 5:33–35 ESV).
“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’
But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” (Matthew 5:38–39 ESV).
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’
But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,” (Matthew 5:43–44 ESV).
The whole sermon is like this. Jesus is teaching us about the new law God would write on our hearts. No longer would righteousness be measured merely by outward compliance. We may keep the letter of the law, but if our heart is hard, bitter, selfish, or prideful, we still fall short of what Kingdom living looks like. And that’s precisely why the people marveled. He spoke as one who had authority. Because He was the authority.
How would we have heard His words if we were sitting on the side of that mount, listening? How do we hear them now? For many of us, these words can feel overwhelming. It’s one thing to be told not to commit a sinful act. It’s another thing entirely to be told not to even think about it. And to be clear, Jesus didn’t say we’d never have tempting thoughts—but He did say that if we nurse those thoughts and let them grow, we’ve already crossed the line in our hearts.
That’s where the battle begins. And that’s where the renewal has to start.
We don’t commit adultery with someone in our heart.
We don’t harbor hate in our heart—even if we never lift a finger against someone.
We don’t covet and steal in our thoughts—even if no one else ever knows.
Jesus calls us to something higher. Something holier. Being citizens of His Kingdom, where He is our King, calls us to have a renewed life—a renewed heart.
But how do we get that kind of heart? It doesn’t come just by trying harder. It doesn’t come from white-knuckling our way through temptation. This kind of transformation only comes when God renews us from the inside out.
Paul put it this way:
“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” (Romans 12:2 ESV).
That word—transformed—carries the weight of a complete metamorphosis. Not a tune-up. Not a remodel. A total rebuild of how we think, how we feel, and how we respond to life. When our minds are renewed, we start seeing sin the way God sees it. We stop justifying what we used to excuse. And little by little, the things that used to entice us start to lose their grip.
But we’re not doing this on our own. This isn’t self-help. This is Spirit-help.
Paul reminded Titus:
“He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit.” (Titus 3:5 ESV).
There it is—God’s mercy. The Spirit’s renewal. A new way of thinking. A new way of living. A new heart, shaped in the image of our Creator.
And this isn’t a one-time event. Renewal is ongoing. Even after years of walking with Jesus, we still find our old ways knocking at the door. But something beautiful happens day by day.
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” (2 Corinthians 4:16 ESV).
We may feel tired. Worn down. Stretched thin. But inside—if we walk with Jesus—the Spirit is shaping us. Sharpening us. Softening us. Strengthening us. This is what Jesus was showing us in the Sermon on the Mount. Not just rules to follow. But a picture of what a renewed person looks like—a life being re-formed to reflect the values of the Kingdom.
And that’s the beauty of it. Jesus isn’t calling us just to avoid sin. He’s calling us to love righteousness. To hunger and thirst for it. To become peacemakers. To be pure in heart. Not out of fear. Not out of duty. But because we’ve been made new.
“…and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.” (Colossians 3:10 ESV).
This is who we’re becoming.
But what happens when we hear Jesus’ words and think, “I’ve tried. I’ve failed. Maybe I just don’t have what it takes to be a Kingdom citizen”?
Let’s be honest—we’ve all had moments like that. We hate someone in our heart, even though we never say a word. We fall into lust or pornography, even after swearing we wouldn’t go back. We say, “never again,” but the battle in our minds tells a different story. And we start to wonder, “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”
That’s exactly where the enemy wants us. He knows the power of a renewed heart. So he whispers defeat. He pushes us to give up before God finishes His work in us.
But here’s the truth: we are weak. We are unworthy. We can’t raise ourselves to Jesus’ standard. And that’s exactly why we need Jesus. The power was never in us—it’s always been in Him.
Our part? Get back up when we fall. Keep walking with Him. Trust the process. This is the essence of Kingdom living.
Because Jesus isn’t asking us to be perfect. He’s asking us to be faithful. To give our allegiance to the King. To trust that when we fall, He will help us rise.
“But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.
If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:7–9 ESV).
And because of that—because we belong to Him—we get to wear this new name:
“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.” (1 John 3:1 ESV).
That’s the promise. That’s the comfort. That’s the hope.
Jesus gives us a high calling in the Sermon on the Mount, but He walks with us to fulfill it. If we keep walking, He keeps renewing. If we keep trusting, He keeps transforming. Not in an instant—but over a lifetime.
And that’s what Kingdom living looks like.
I found myself wondering what the New Heavens and New Earth would be like. I have a pretty vivid imagination, and I started to get really excited.
Then I remembered this verse, and it reminded me how futile it is to imagine the amazing future God has in store for us. I can hardly wait to see…
“But, as it is written, ‘What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.’” (1 Corinthians 2:9 ESV).
I am in the book of Job in my daily Bible reading.
The book begins with its most familiar scene. Before Job and his friends start their long conversations, we see Satan standing before God in heaven — accusing Job, questioning his devotion, and asking for permission to test him.
Listen in on the conversation.
“And the LORD said to Satan, ‘Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil?’ Then Satan answered the LORD and said, ‘Does Job fear God for no reason? Have you not put a hedge around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land. But stretch out your hand and touch all that he has, and he will curse you to your face.” (Job 1:8–11 ESV).
We know this story, don’t we? But notice what happens when God speaks:
“And the LORD said to Satan, ‘Behold, all that he has is in your hand. Only against him do not stretch out your hand.’ So Satan went out from the presence of the LORD.” (Job 1:12 ESV).
God gives permission — but also a limit. Satan may take Job’s possessions, but not touch his body. Satan obeys. He does his worst within the boundary God sets, yet Job remains faithful.
And that’s striking, isn’t it? Because if this were us, we might ignore God’s prohibition and do what we wanted anyway. Humanity has been doing exactly that for thousands of years. In the Garden, God said “No,” and mankind acted anyway. But when God says “No” to Satan, Satan must obey.
In chapter two, the scene repeats. Satan says Job will curse God if his health is taken:
“Then Satan answered the LORD and said, ‘Skin for skin! All that a man has he will give for his life. But stretch out your hand and touch his bone and his flesh, and he will curse you to your face.” (Job 2:4–5 ESV).
God replies:
“And the LORD said to Satan, ‘Behold, he is in your hand; only spare his life.” (Job 2:6 ESV).
Again — permission, but with a boundary. And again, Satan obeys. Job suffers, but lives. Satan cannot go one inch beyond what God allows.
That’s sovereignty. When God speaks, creation obeys. Even Satan bows to His word.
And yet… man is different. God made us in His image, with the freedom to choose obedience or rebellion. We can defy His commands — but not with impunity. Judgment may not come immediately, but it will come.
This should not make us proud. It should make us humble — and grateful. For God’s patience. For His long-suffering. For His offer of repentance. He has not given that to the angels. Only to us, the descendants of Adam.
So today, let’s live in allegiance to Him while we have the chance. A day is coming when every knee will bow — and those who rebel, even in ways Satan did not in Job’s story, will face the punishment prepared for the devil and his angels.
Darkness.
That was one of the plagues in Egypt. I find some humor in that.
Pharaoh, who worshiped Ra, the sun god, scoffed at the true God by refusing to let His people go.
How did the one true God handle it?
By turning off the sun.
I am in the book of Job in my daily Bible reading.
When I was younger, I read the first few chapters and the last few chapters. But the older I get, the more I love the meat in the chapters between.
When we consider the dialogue between Job and his friends, we see ourselves. These are men struggling to make sense of things that don’t make sense. We all desperately want to know “why” when we suffer—when bad things happen to us. We often grasp for meaning, and often in the wrong places.
This is what was going on with Job and his friends. We see anger, disappointment, sarcasm, finger-pointing, pleading, arrogance, and jumping to conclusions dispersed throughout the dialogue. Isn’t this what we do when we try to answer the question “why”?
We give Job’s friends a tough time because of the false accusations they lay at Job’s feet. Even God gets angry with them at the end of the book for doing this. But you don’t have to get far into the book to realize that they are wise men. Many of the things they say are from wisdom.
But wisdom does not mean perfection. Wisdom does not mean we are always right. But in saying that, let’s not cut down their wisdom because they are in error in some things they say. Consider these words of wisdom they speak:
“Can you find out the deep things of God?
Can you find out the limit of the Almighty?
It is higher than heaven—what can you do?
Deeper than Sheol—what can you know?
Its measure is longer than the earth
and broader than the sea.
If he passes through and imprisons
and summons the court, who can turn him back?
For he knows worthless men;
when he sees iniquity, will he not consider it?”
(Job 11:7–11 ESV)
Even Job sees Zophar’s wisdom:
“Then Job answered and said:
‘No doubt you are the people,
and wisdom will die with you.
But I have understanding as well as you;
I am not inferior to you.
Who does not know such things as these?’”
(Job 12:1–3 ESV)
Eliphaz says:
“‘Can mortal man be in the right before God?
Can a man be pure before his Maker?
Even in his servants he puts no trust,
and his angels he charges with error;
how much more those who dwell in houses of clay,
whose foundation is in the dust,
who are crushed like the moth.’”
(Job 4:17–19 ESV)
While many of their words draw the wrong conclusions about God, there is still wisdom and an acknowledgment of God and His power in the way they see Him.
What does this tell me? That even when we believe in God, recognize His might and right to rule over us, and speak with wisdom about who He is, we still need to be careful when we ascribe guilt or innocence, motive or reasons that speak to His character. What these men said about God wasn’t wholly wrong, but the conclusions they drew about Him were in error and impugned His character.
This is what we need to guard against when we seek answers to our question, “Why?”
I’d love to hear how this passage from Job challenges or encourages you as we wrestle with our own “why” questions—feel free to share your reflections in the comments so we can grow together.