The Call to Authentic Christianity
We are in Revelation chapter three, and we’re starting a new series this morning called “Christian-ish.” Someone say, “Christian-ish.” Christian-ish.
We’re going to open the Scriptures, but before we do that, let’s pray.
Lord, we thank You for Your Word. We thank You that You have written it for us so that we may understand more of Your nature, more of Your will, more of Your ways, and more of how we can become closer to You—how we can become more and more like Jesus as we go.
And so, Holy Spirit, we invite You into this place today to teach us, to convict us, and to lead us this morning from the current degree of glory that we are in, in Christ Jesus, to the next.
Amen. Amen.
Rediscovering the United Kingdom’s Christian Heritage
The UK, the United Kingdom, is historically a Christian country. It’s a Christian country in that historic sense, not simply because most people used to go to church – although that is true – but because the UK is built on Christian values. In fact, what we often call “Western values” are really biblical values. Our laws are predicated on biblical principles that we read in Scripture: the equality of all people, the protection of the weak and vulnerable. The structures we’ve built over centuries have their origins in the biblical narrative and the principles we find there.
Even the institution that formally governs our country – the monarchy, King Charles III at the moment – is rooted in this. The monarch is the head of the Church of England. Do we know that? And historically, the monarch is installed under what’s called “the divine right of kings”: that is, the monarch is there because he has been, if you like, ordained, deriving his authority from God. That is the country, the culture, and the system we’re operating within. Does that make sense?
It’s widely accepted and acknowledged that the UK is a Christian country, and many people, even those who don’t go to church, might describe themselves as Christian. Have you seen this? A lot of people would describe themselves as Christian. There’s a relatively new term for this: “culturally Christian.” Some people claim they’re culturally Christian, which means they like or accept the values of Christianity and what it stands for, they acknowledge that cultural tradition, but they don’t really engage with it in a real, living way.
Now, as those who read Scripture, we would say that’s not truly Christian at all. Christian – true or false? Amen. You either accept Jesus as Lord and Saviour, or you don’t. There’s no “culture,” no grey area that makes you Christian. But regardless of that, this is where I used to be. It’s where my family used to be: we might have described ourselves as Christian. Back in the day, we used to go to a little church in our village sometimes – Christmas and Easter, certainly – and we would have regarded ourselves as Christian.
What that really meant was that I believed there was probably a God, and my tradition and heritage indicated that it was probably the God of the Bible – not that I’d actually read it. Is this familiar to anybody else, or is it just me? I think this is true for many, many people. For me, I was “Christian-ish.” Christian-ish.
Now, our attachment to our Christian heritage, culture, and tradition has been on an interesting journey over the past few years and decades. There was a move in the cultural zeitgeist – the cultural mood, if you like – away from Christianity and towards a more secular utopian idea. Have we observed that? And that’s going great, isn’t it?
But now we’re seeing a bit of a swing back: a renewed acknowledgement of Christian culture, Christian tradition, and Christian heritage. And in many ways, that’s cool, isn’t it?
What we’re seeing, then, are two phenomena happening at the same time. The first is great: it’s an incredible move of God. This is genuine. Churches all around the UK – pastors and leaders I speak to, and here in our own town and our own church – are seeing a genuine move of God sweeping through the country. The Holy Spirit is convicting hearts and leading people to accept Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour in a real, genuine way. That’s great, isn’t it? This is the Kingdom of God expanding.
But there is a second phenomenon happening alongside it. It’s also good, but it needs shaping. It’s a move of people who are recognising where that earlier shift away from Christian culture has taken us, and they’re making a human effort to reverse it. Have we seen this? People proclaiming that we are a Christian country, that we are a Christian nation, but they don’t actually know Jesus. Have you seen this?
This is an exciting time to be alive. It’s good, because Christian culture and Christian values do shape a safer, healthier country. But Christian traditions and Christian values do not save souls. Amen. Acting in a way the Bible describes does not, in itself, save a soul. No one is admitted to heaven because they loved their neighbour. No one is admitted to heaven because they protected vulnerable people, if they have not genuinely accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Saviour. Can I preach the truth this morning?
We’re in an exciting time, but we as the Church have a significant role to play. If we’re not careful, there will be a lot of people who are Christian-ish. Christian-ish. And Christian-ish is not good enough. It doesn’t pass the bar. Only a full acceptance of who Jesus is and what He has done for us, combined with repentance of sin and a striving to sin no more, is enough.
It starts with us, and it spreads from there. That’s the way it’s designed to be.
So I have a definition of “Christian-ish” that I think is helpful. It’s this: having a half-hearted faith, wearing the label of Christianity without truly following Jesus.
It’s going to be a challenging morning this morning. Is that all right?
Afflicting the Comfortable in Christ
We’ve recently finished our MIT – Ministers in Training – with AOG. And something I heard someone say during that training was this:
“The role of the pastor is to comfort those who are afflicted, but also to afflict those who are comfortable.”
That’s where we’re going this morning. You should be challenged. If you’re feeling comfortable, you should in some way be afflicted. Because there’s not a lot of point in being here unless we are willing to allow the Lord to speak to us, to lead us into growth, and to lead us further on the journey that we’re on. Amen?
Jesus had a message for the “Christian‑ish,” and we find it in the book of Revelation. Jesus speaks to a church—He writes seven letters—but the one we’re focusing on is to the church in Laodicea. And Jesus really doesn’t hold back.
In Revelation 3, starting in verse 15, it says this:
“I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other.
So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.
You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’
But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.
Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent.
Here I am! I stand at the door and knock.
If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.”
Jesus says, “I would rather you be hot or cold. But lukewarm gets spat out.” That’s nice, isn’t it?
I want to give some context to this passage because there’s a regular, surface-level reading of it—something like, “Oh yeah, we want to be hot, on fire for the Lord.” But there’s actually a bit more going on here. Can I share it with you?
Laodicea was one of the wealthiest cities in the Roman Empire. At the time this letter was written to the church in Laodicea—around 95 AD—about 35 years earlier there had been a big earthquake that hit the area and destroyed most of the city. Terrible devastation. They had to rebuild the entire city, and they did so pretty quickly. They built a great big amphitheatre, public baths, large buildings and monuments.
Imagine Laodicea as kind of like the Las Vegas or the Dubai of the day. It’s a pretty significant city. They’ve done really well. They’re wealthy, very self‑sufficient, very successful. Everything seems to be happening for Laodicea. And yet Jesus comes in and says, “Hey, you are lukewarm. You are lukewarm.”
The picture Jesus is painting here would have meant something even more significant to the people in the church at Laodicea, and it has to do with water—where the city of Laodicea got its water from. I find this fascinating, and I want to share it with you because I think you’ll find it fascinating too.
Laodicea’s Lukewarm Water and Our Purpose
Laodicea gets its water from two places. It receives hot water from a natural spring in Hierapolis, which is slightly north of Laodicea. There’s a natural spring there, and they pipe that hot water down to the city. Then they get cold water from Colossae, the city to which Paul wrote the letter to the Colossians, slightly to the south.
So we’ve got cold water coming from the south, from Colossae, and hot water coming from the north, from Hierapolis, and they both come into Laodicea. Both of these water sources have a purpose. The hot water from the spring is for healing—sitting in natural hot springs is good for all sorts of bodily issues. And the cold water from the south is a good, refreshing general water supply for day-to-day life. Hot water, cold water, both useful.
Except there’s a big problem. By the time the hot spring water is carried along the aqueduct all the way from the north to Laodicea, it has cooled down. It’s become lukewarm. And by the time the cold water from Colossae comes up and is piped to Laodicea, it has warmed up. So both of these water supplies are no longer really providing what they were meant to provide. The hot water has cooled; the cool water has warmed. Both are now lukewarm, and neither is able to do what it was supposed to do. The respective cooling and warming made them less effective for the purpose they were brought in for.
So when Jesus calls out the church at Laodicea for being “lukewarm”, he’s not only saying, “You’re not hot enough, you’re not on fire enough for the Lord, you’re not passionate enough.” That’s not the only point. He is also saying, “You are not achieving the purpose for which you were created.” Like the lukewarm water, you’re not hot enough to be useful, and you’re not cold enough to be useful. It’s actually a very strong rebuke to the people at Laodicea.
And the sentiment carries through to us as well. The Bible wasn’t written to us, but it was written for us, to help us understand the nature of God—his ways and his values. And this value is clear: we are to fulfill the purpose for which we were created.
God has given each of us specific gifts and talents. You might be good with people, you might be good at administration, you might be good at teaching, you might be good at encouraging others. These gifts were not given to be ignored, but to be used for his glory and for the expansion of his kingdom. If we are not fulfilling the purpose for which we were created, Jesus might say that we are lukewarm.
There is a kingdom principle about using what God has given us and acknowledging that it forms part of our identity. It’s not the main part of our identity—that is “child of God”, amen?—but it is still part of who God has made us to be. To ignore it is, in a sense, to reject what God has created us to be.
That is challenging. And it should challenge us, church. It challenges me too.
Costly Discipleship and True Shepherding
There was a pope in the 6th century called Pope Gregory I, or Gregory the Great—Saint Gregory the Great, which is pretty cool, isn’t it? Who wouldn’t want to die and then be named “the Great” afterwards? I don’t know if he was given that title while he was still alive, but it would be pretty cool. Anyway, Gregory I was pope in the 6th century, before the first major split in the church—the Great Schism in 1054—so at that point the church was still largely one denomination, one church.
He wrote something like a handbook for pastors, for those involved in pastoral care. I haven’t read all of it, but there’s one part in particular that really encapsulates what Jesus is saying here in Revelation. He says this:
“If then the care of feeding is a testimony of love, he who abounding in virtues refuses to feed the flock is convicted of having no love for the supreme Shepherd.”
That’s a powerful quote. What’s he saying? If feeding is a testimony of love, and we are abounding in love, yet we refuse to do the feeding, then we are convicted of having no love for the supreme Shepherd. And who is that? Jesus.
That’s a really harsh commentary. If, by the nature of who we are, we are called and created to do a thing by the One who calls and creates, and we refuse to do that thing, then we are convicted of having no love for the One who calls and creates. Because to refuse would be to be lukewarm, to not fulfil our purpose. And if we’re lukewarm, we’re in danger of being spat out.
The word “spat out” is interesting. I like looking at words. We’ve got a piece of software called Logos, and when you read the Scriptures you can read the original language as well. It’s very helpful, because you can see the specific meanings of individual words. The Greek word for “spat out” is emeo. The image it conjures up is really quite unpleasant: it means to vomit, to throw up, to spew out forcefully. This is like projectile vomiting.
Welcome to Sunday morning.
God can’t stand comfortable Christianity. It is intolerable to God. It’s a flaky commitment that wants to receive the benefits of Jesus without fully surrendering to the call of Jesus.
Who’s feeling challenged this morning? Some of you are quiet—“I’m not coming back here, I don’t like this.” I was the same.
Jesus says, “You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realise that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” Wow.
We are rich. There are levels to it, of course. None of us here are Elon Musk; I don’t think any of us have just done an IPO that’s made us a trillionaire. But we are all rich. If you’re here today, you came from a home with a roof on it and food in the cupboard. You’ve got a phone in your pocket. You are rich. You might not feel rich, but we are rich.
Now, we might get complacent at this point, like the church in Laodicea. We might say, “I don’t need a thing. I’ve got all the stuff I need. I’m absolutely fine.” Maybe you know someone who doesn’t feel they need anything from God because their life is awesome. Do we know people like that? I know I do. Or maybe you yourself don’t feel like you need anything from God.
For some, the Christian “badge” feels good enough to wear. It makes us feel warm and fuzzy. We’re connected to the tradition and the heritage. We’re part of the club. We’re Christian‑ish. We don’t feel that we need anything from God: “I’m a good person. I don’t need an outdated book to tell me how to live.”
And Jesus speaks directly to this person and says, “You do not realise…” People wearing a Christian badge, like I did—Christian‑ish—might not realise that they are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.
The Peril of Lukewarm Self-Deception
Have you ever been in an awkward situation where someone is trying to point something out to you and you’re just not getting it?
I remember once, a number of years ago, when Sam and I were only just married. We were out to dinner with some friends. Partway through the meal, Sam developed a really itchy nose. She’s doing this, scratching away, and I’m thinking, “Okay, she’s got an itchy nose.” But every time I look over at her, she’s just itching her nose. I’m thinking, “This is bizarre.”
Then the itching starts to get more erratic as we go, and I’m thinking, “She has got problems. This lady’s got issues. What is she doing?” Then she starts nodding toward me as well. Now I’m convinced, “There is a problem. This is a medical emergency.”
The itching and the nodding just get more and more out of hand, and it takes me ages to understand the message she’s trying to send me. She’s actually trying to tell me about an unfortunate nasal mishap that is occurring on my face. The issue was not Sam’s medical emergency. It was a communique coming to me, trying to tell me something, and I just wasn’t getting it. I didn’t realize what was happening. I didn’t realize the issue that was attached to my facial area.
It was a major drama, a major challenge. It required someone from an external perspective to show me something about myself that I didn’t realize. From my perspective, everything was fine. As I say, I thought Sam was the one having the medical emergency. But the reality was: I didn’t realize.
“You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.”
What if you are lukewarm, but you don’t realize? What if you are not fulfilling your God-ordained purpose, and you don’t realize? What if you believe in God, you maybe even accept that Jesus died for your sins, everything looks fine on the surface, you don’t need a thing—but you don’t realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked?
It’s heavy this morning. Are we okay? Church, still with me?
A lukewarm, “Christian-ish” life is the ultimate self-deception, because it’s enough of Jesus to soothe our conscience, but not enough to actually make us new.
The Peril of Lukewarm Devotion
So we might be asking the question, “How do I know if I’m a lukewarm, Christian‑ish person?” Who would like to ask that question? I’ve asked it for myself, and what I have is five, not definitive, but five possible signs that you might be lukewarm.
You ready?
The first is this: you crave acceptance from people more than acceptance from God. You want to fit in, you want to be popular, you don’t want to be rejected. You want to be part of the club, part of the social scene, the social sphere. And you’re craving acceptance from those around you.
But Jesus says in Luke 6:26, “Woe unto you when all men shall speak well of you,” because if we’re pleasing the world, then we’re likely not pleasing God. In fact, Paul says, “Who am I trying to please, God or man?” Amen? So if you crave acceptance from people more than acceptance from God, then you may be lukewarm.
Number two is this: you rationalise sin. You explain sin away, perhaps saying, “Well, it’s not hurting anybody,” or, “Everyone’s doing it, so it’s fine really.” But Isaiah 5:20 says, “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil.”
Number three—this one’s a challenge for, I would say, every single person in the room. You rarely share your faith in Christ. Being a Christian in this building on a Sunday morning is great, but what if the people you work with would be surprised to know that you follow Jesus? Maybe you don’t want to offend people, you don’t want to cause a scene, cause a stir, or you don’t want to be judged.
Number four is this—and this one is also a challenge. You only turn to God when you need something. Perhaps God is a tool in your toolbox that you call on in an unfortunate situation or when things are going wrong, and you call on the Lord in prayer. And so what you actually have is a God to facilitate your life, rather than a God you fear. That’s a challenge.
And number five: maybe you’re just not that much different from the world. Maybe you’re speaking the same language, saying the same types of things—maybe swearing, taking the Lord’s name in vain, going after the same stuff the world goes after, claiming Jesus, but actually our actions say that we love the world first.
1 John 2:15 says, “Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them.”
What if you’re lukewarm and you don’t even realise it? Who’s feeling challenged this morning? That’s okay, church, because we’re all on this journey. We’re all here, we’re all in, we’re all going from one degree of glory to the next.
Maybe you’re feeling convicted right now because one or more of these things rings true. And that’s okay. That’s good. This is good stuff. That is the Holy Spirit at work in us, saying, “Hey, you know what, there’s some stuff to work on in this particular area.”
But maybe you’re thinking, “Why is Jesus mad at me? Is Jesus mad at me?”
How can we help a nation of the Christian‑ish to genuinely love Jesus?
Loving Discipline and Genuine Devotion
If the message feels harsh, you need to know that Jesus loves you more than you will ever know. Jesus loves you more than you will ever know. In fact, in Revelation 3:19 he says, “I correct and discipline everyone I love.” Isn't that amazing?
Yesterday we had a scene in our house. It was a full-on episode. We were working together on a project in the garden. Me, Sam, and Sophie were trying to put a chair together. Tensions were frayed, families were tested, and Sophie decided to climb on the barbecue.
I’m like, “Excuse me, that’s my barbecue!”
Anyway, Sam sorted it. She said, “Sophie, get down from the barbecue.” And she did, but she wasn’t happy about it. Then she got back up. Sam said again, “Sophie, down from the barbecue, please.” And it happened a third time.
I could see Sam getting quite emotional at that point, and I said, “Sorry, darling, I will sort it.” But I was also emotional. I was cross: the screw wouldn’t go in, Sophie’s climbing on my barbecue, it’s starting to rain, I’ve got my foot stuck in a bit of plastic wrap. It’s not fun.
So I took Soph upstairs and said, “Right, it’s bedtime.” It was about quarter to six. It was far too early, but I said, “It’s bedtime.” She’s crying now, I’m taking her upstairs, and it’s a whole drama trying to get her changed into her pyjamas. It’s just a whole scene, a terrible situation.
And then I acknowledged that it was too late for that, but something still needed to be done. There needed to be some sort of corrective action. So in the moment I decided to introduce a new thing we’d never done before. I know we need to do it at some point, I just haven’t figured out how yet—if you can tell me, let me know—but I decided to introduce a timeout.
“It’s too early for bedtime, but actually, you need a timeout.”
I tried to explain this in the heat of the moment. It was a failure. It was a failure of a timeout.
Here’s where we ended up. Sophie and I spent some time sat on her bed. I was holding her in my arms. She was still very upset; she wanted to be downstairs outside with Mummy, because Daddy was being mean. And that’s true—I had been.
I was just holding Soph as she calmed down. I was rocking her, and we were sat there for a good while. I was saying, “Darling, I’m sorry. But also, you’ve been naughty. You disobeyed Mummy three times. And when you are naughty, there needs to be some kind of correction, so that you know that it’s naughty to be naughty.”
She doesn’t really understand that—she’s two. But it gave me a picture. It reminded me of God holding us in his arms, saying, “I love you so much. I love you so much more than you will ever know. I love you so much. But I have to bring discipline. I have to bring correction. I have to. And it’s because I love you. Because I don’t want you to grow and develop into something you were not created to be—in my words to Sophie, ‘naughty.’”
The Lord brings discipline because he loves. The Lord brings correction because he loves. Thank you, Lord. It doesn’t feel pleasant at the time, does it, church? No, it doesn’t.
When Jesus speaks to the church in Laodicea and calls them lukewarm, he isn’t shaming them; he is encouraging them with correction that comes from genuine love. Jesus says, “Be diligent and turn from your indifference.”
So that begs the question: how do we turn from our indifference? How do we turn from being “Christian-ish”? And more than that, how do we demonstrate a genuine love for Jesus to those around us who are “Christian-ish”? To a nation around us that is rapidly adopting Christian tradition and Christian heritage, but not Jesus—how do we demonstrate what it is to be a genuine follower, a genuine believer of the Lord?
Daily Practices of Pleasing Faith
There are all sorts of answers to this, church. There are all sorts of answers about reading your Bible more, which is obvious, and praying more, serving alongside a family of believers more, giving more, being accountable to someone more. All of these things are great.
But I think we should start simple. I think we should start simple by doing something every day—one thing—that requires faith. By doing something every day that requires faith.
There is a lot we can do that requires faith. Who knows that forgiving someone you don’t think deserves it requires faith? Who knows that worshipping God when He doesn’t feel near because of your situation or circumstance requires faith? Who knows that not hiding your faith at work requires faith?
Volunteering to pray out loud for the first time at life group or a prayer night requires faith. Inviting someone to church requires faith. Giving sacrificially beyond the tithe requires faith. Tithing for the first time—tithing requires a lot of faith.
“Without faith it is impossible to please God,” so the book of Hebrews says. And so, by exercising faith, it is impossible to be “Christian‑ish.” It is impossible to be Christian‑ish when we exercise our faith, because we become reliant on God. We’re no longer saying, “I don’t need a thing.” We’re now saying, “I need God. I need God.”
And if it’s just one thing a day to start with, then that’s great. But it grows. And this is the exciting bit, church: faith becomes a more prominent feature in our lives as we lean on God more. As our faith grows, as our faith develops, the small acts of faith become bigger, our reliance on God increases, and what we see increases.
This is going to be amazing. You go from praying for a parking space in Asda to praying for healings and deliverance. Amen. Jesus says, “Greater things than these you will see.” We are going to see great things. We are already seeing great things, but you are going to see great things—you, individually and personally and specifically, are going to see great things. That’s the promise of the Lord.
Our faith is the greatest witness that we have for God. As people recognize the power of God and what God does through you and your life, it becomes impossible to ignore. Amen. Church, are you with me this morning?
Your life becomes a testament to Him. And you need to know this: that is the reason you were created in the first place. No longer lukewarm and not fulfilling purpose, but fulfilling a purpose far bigger than you will ever know.
Why don’t we stand, church, if you’re able to? We’re going to pray.
This is our prayer: that this is contagious, that we see the Holy Spirit work and operate through us, and that our example is a signpost to Jesus. That those around us will see and will witness, and by our contagious faith, others will make the journey from, “I don’t need a thing,” to, “I didn’t realize… I need God.”
That’s the mission of the church. That’s why we’re here. That’s why we’re here.
Inviting the Spirit and Responding in Faith
So, I’m going to pray. We’re going to pray. In fact, we’re all going to pray.
What I want to do is pray for two things. First, can we get that slide up again—the one with the five signs that you may be “Christian-ish”? The five signs. Yes, that one. Thank you, that’s perfect.
We’re going to create a moment of opportunity to consult with the Lord and to ask the Holy Spirit to reveal to us which area in our lives we need to bolster, where we need to work, where we need help and support from the Lord. We need His wisdom, we need His strength, we need His power to work through us by His Holy Spirit, to move from “I don’t need a thing” to “I didn’t realise I need God more than I even thought.”
So we’re going to pray. Just have a look at these five signs and ask the Holy Spirit.
Lord, we thank You. We thank You for Your Word, that it speaks into our lives. We thank You that it reveals who You are, but that it also reveals our relationship with You, and the relationship that You are so desperate to have with each one of us—not just us in this room, but every single person. Because it is Your will that none should perish.
We thank You, Lord, that You are a gracious and loving God, whose desire is to meet with every person. We thank You. I thank You, Lord, for Your instruction through Your Word, that it brings correction and discipline. We thank You that You love us enough, and that You have such great plans for us, that You are “bothered enough” to write to us through Your Word to bring correction for us—correction that really has no tangible benefit to You, but is for us, to bring us into closer alignment with the people You’ve created us to be.
And so, Holy Spirit, we invite You in this place to reveal to us areas in our lives where we are being Christian-ish, where there is a lukewarmness, where we’re not operating in the fullness of who You’ve created us to be. Perhaps we’re not operating in the gifting that You’ve given us as a gift. Perhaps there are areas where we are shying away. Holy Spirit, would You reveal these things to us in our hearts?
And then, would You go before us into this week as we continue on our journey, going from one degree of glory to the next—as we move from “I don’t need a thing” to “I didn’t realise that I need You more than I ever thought”? Would You help each one of us to step out in faith this week—every day, just one thing that requires faith, that requires us to lean on You and be reliant on You—so that we could not say, “I don’t need a thing,” but that we would have to say, “I need God”? Would You reveal something to us every day as we do that, Lord?
Thank You, Jesus. Thank You, Jesus.
I’m going to pray for salvation as well. Jesus died on the cross. He came to take on the weight of sin and shame so that everybody has the opportunity to accept who He is and accept what He’s done. It is His will that none should perish. He came for everybody. He came that all may be given an entrance to heaven. He came that all may be spared from an eternity without Him, because He is gracious, He is loving, He is kind, and He is just.
So this morning, if you’re in this place and you want to make an acceptance, an acknowledgement of who Jesus is—for the first time this morning—accepting Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour, not just as a tradition, not just as a heritage, not just something we’ve grown up with because we are a “Christian country,” but something that is actually meaningful and individual and personal, a personal acceptance and a personal faith, I want to invite us all to bow our heads and close our eyes.
If this morning, in this place, you want to accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour for the first time, I’d love to invite you to raise your hand.
I’m going to pray.
Jesus, thank You, Lord. Thank You, Lord. Jesus, we thank You for the cross. We thank You for salvation. We thank You for the body that was broken and the blood that was spilled, and we thank You for what that means for us. Thank You, Lord. Thank You, Jesus. Thank You for Your glorious salvation.
Amen.
