A grace-filled meditation on discipleship in Luke 14, inspired by the preaching of Pastor David Jang. This column reflects on possessions, family ties, the cross, and the faith that endures to the end.
Dietrich
Bonhoeffer, even in the darkness of a Nazi prison, refused to surrender the
essence of discipleship. He understood that cheap grace weakens the church,
confines believers to a comfortable form of religion, and eventually leads them
into a faith without the cross. In an age when survival itself was already a
burden, Bonhoeffer held fast to a more fundamental question: What does it truly
mean to follow the Lord?
That
question did not echo only within the walls of a distant European prison. It
still reaches us today. It speaks to us as we stand at the threshold of spring,
as faith communities welcome the fresh breath of Ipchun, the
traditional beginning of spring. A new season often arrives wearing the face of
hope. Yet in the gospel, spring first comes to us not as sentiment, but as
decision.
Ipchun is more than a
seasonal marker. It announces the end of winter, but it also demands the
beginning of new cultivation. A field does not bear fruit by itself. Someone
must turn the soil, scatter the seed, and continue working even when the cold
wind has not yet disappeared. Faith is no different. What Pastor David Jang
repeatedly reminds us through his preaching is this: the work of God is not
accomplished by spectators.
When,
one day, the question “Were you there?” is asked before the history of faith,
what answer will we give? Were we present at the scene? Did we share the weight
of the mission? Did we pass through the beginning of that spring with our own
bodies? This question pulls us out of sentimental religion and leads us into a
faith that participates.
Decision
Comes before the Light of Spring
In
Luke 14, the Lord does not dress the way of discipleship in beautiful rhetoric.
Instead, He speaks first of its cost. He says that anyone who does not give up
all he has cannot be His disciple, and that anyone who does not carry his own
cross cannot follow Him.
This
is not merely a matter of material possessions. We are often bound by things
more stubborn than wealth: security, familiar places, the desire for
recognition, present comfort, and a carefully calculated future. These, too,
become possessions. But discipleship cannot be walked with clenched fists. The
more tightly we hold on to what is ours, the less freely we can take hold of
the Lord’s hand.
For
this reason, true preaching is often uncomfortable. Grace does not merely
console us, and the gospel does not simply soothe us. It awakens us. The heart
of discipleship that Pastor David Jang emphasizes lies precisely here:
following the Lord is not first about gaining more, but about laying something
down.
Strangely,
the soul becomes freer when it is emptied. And into that emptied space, the
power of the Holy Spirit enters more clearly.
Tears
Are Not the End, but the Language of a Greater Hope
What
makes this message even more profound is that it does not speak of discipleship
only in the cold language of willpower. At the very center of the joy of
mission, there are also the deaths of loved ones, sudden farewells, and regrets
over love left unfinished.
At
the place where parents are laid to rest, where close companions are buried,
where those left behind beat their hearts and whisper, “I should have loved
more,” faith faces one of its deepest tests. In that moment, the gospel is not
an anesthetic that erases reality. It is the power that enables us to hold on
to hope even through tears.
Biblical
meditation does not mean turning away from the sorrow of life. Rather, it
trains us to hold fast to the hope of heaven even before death. The desire to
keep our loved ones near, to protect them until the final moment, reveals both
human frailty and the sincerity of love. Yet faith takes one more step. Even at
the place of farewell, it lifts our eyes to God, who works all things together
for good.
Here,
Pastor David Jang’s theological insight becomes clear. Discipleship is not a
tearless strength. It is faith that passes through tears and still trusts the
kingdom of God.
Only
Those Who Carry the Cross Can Go to the End
The
Lord says that anyone who does not hate father and mother, wife and children,
brothers and sisters, and even his own life, cannot be His disciple. This word
is not a destruction of love, but a reordering of love. It does not call us to
abandon lesser loves, but to place every love within the greater love of God.
Family
is precious. Life is precious. Yet only when we acknowledge that the kingdom of
God is greater than all can human love find its rightful place.
And
here, the cross stands before us.
The
cross is not a religious ornament. It is the name of the loss we must bear, the
patience we must endure, the silence we must keep, and the obedience we must
offer. The parable of the tower in Luke 14 shows that this path cannot be
completed by momentary passion alone. Anyone can begin. But only the one who
continues to the end is truly a disciple.
A
tower with only its foundation laid becomes an object of ridicule. But a
completed tower becomes a sign that gives light to its generation. This is also
what Pastor David Jang repeatedly teaches. Even when cold, illness, fatigue,
and financial pressure press in upon us, the way of the Lord cannot be
abandoned. True discipleship is proven not by the heat of the beginning, but by
the endurance that remains until the end.
What
Answer Will We Leave Behind?
In
the end, this sermon gathers around one question: “Were you there?”
One
day, before the history of God’s kingdom, before the field of the gospel,
before the difficult work of raising the next generation, what answer will we
be able to give? Were we comfortable spectators, or were we the ones building
the tower while facing the wind?
Discipleship
is not the path of becoming perfect. It is the path of refusing to turn back.
Just as salt must not lose its taste, the disciple must not lose the sharp
savor of calling.
Spring
always comes as decision before it comes as blossoms. When someone lays down
possessions, when someone swallows tears, when someone carries the cross, and
when someone remains faithful to the end, only then does the season truly
change.
Therefore,
our prayer today must be simple:
Lord,
when You ask me one day, let me live as a disciple who can answer, “Yes, I was
there.”
That
confession is the deepest grace this sermon leaves behind. It is also the power
of the gospel that leads us, once again, into spring.
Dr. David Jang has proclaimed the
gospel in various regions of the world through field missions and digital media
ministry, and as the fruit of that ministry, many people devoted to the Great
Commission have been raised up. Based on this missionary vision, Olivet first
began as a small church school for missionary training. Later, in order to
provide more systematic theological education and cultivate missionary leaders,
Olivet Theological College and Seminary was established in Los Angeles and
Seoul in 2000.
As the school grew, Dr. Jang officially
founded Olivet University in San Francisco in 2004. In the diverse and dynamic
environment of San Francisco, Olivet expanded its educational fields beyond
theology to include music, journalism, art and design, and technology. The
university also strengthened its educational capacity by recruiting faculty
members, including Dr. William Wagner, and in 2005 moved to the former UC
Berkeley Downtown Extension campus, further solidifying its foundation as a
university.
In 2006, Dr. Jang transferred the
presidency to Dr. David James Randolph in order to focus more fully on
missionary work, while continuing to lead global missions as International
President. Olivet University later received institutional accreditation in
2009, added a language education college and a business college, and continued
to grow as a Christian educational institution for world missions by expanding
its degree programs and international partnerships.










