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Simple Message
“What’s wrong with the world today?” In the early 1900s, The Times of London
posed this big question to several well-known writers. Some gave long and
thoughtful answers. But G.K. Chesterton, a Christian writer, gave perhaps the
shortest essay ever written. He simply wrote: “Dear Sir, I am.”
The root cause of all human problems is a sin problem. The world is broken because of my selfishness, my self-centeredness, my sin. We know what is right, but we don’t have the power to do it.
When Adam and Eve rebelled against God—wanting to be like gods themselves—sin entered the world. God’s image in us was distorted. Our hearts, our affections, our wills—all polluted. The human heart became an idol-making factory.
So what do we do? Some of us turn to legalism—relying on our own goodness, willpower, morality, and self-righteousness. Others turn to antagonism—rejecting God’s ways openly and running into sin. But in God’s eyes, both are lost.
Think of the parable of the prodigal son. Really, it should be the prodigal sons. Yes, the younger son ran away, wasted his life, and was lost. But the older son, who stayed home yet never loved his father from the heart—he too was lost. And what did the father do? He went out to both of them.
That’s who our God is. He comes out to each of us through Jesus Christ. The gospel is not advice on how to fix ourselves. It is news about what Jesus has already done for us. It’s about substitution—Jesus did it for us. He lived the perfect life we could not live. He died the death we should have died. He took our place on the cross. And by rising from the grave, He gave us new life—eternal life. The sin problem we could not solve, Jesus solved once and for all.
Simple Faith
That’s basically
what Peter preached in today’s scripture (Acts 10:34–43). In Acts, we see at
least seven different preaching moments from Peter. And yet the message was
always the same: You have a sin problem you can’t solve. But Jesus has solved
it for you.
It’s a simple message. But sometimes simple is hard. The gospel is a gift from God. It’s freely given. We can’t earn it. We can’t add anything to it. And that offends our pride.
In 2 Kings 5, Naaman—the great general of the Syrian army—was a perfect example. He was a mighty warrior, but he suffered from leprosy. He came with his horses and chariots to Elisha’s house. But Elisha didn’t even come out to meet him! Instead, he sent a messenger with this word: “Go, wash yourself in the Jordan seven times, and you will be cleansed.” What was Naaman’s reaction? He was furious. He said, “I thought he would surely come out and meet me! I expected him to wave his hand over me, call on the Lord his God, and heal me!” (v. 11, NLT). The message was simple. The command was clear. But it insulted Naaman’s pride. Only when he laid aside that pride, and chose the path of simple faith and obedience, did he find healing.
There’s another story, this time from World War II. In the little French village of Le Chambon, a community of Christians quietly hid thousands of Jewish children and families during the Holocaust. They risked their lives, day after day. After the war, this village was honored as “Righteous Among the Nations” by the State of Israel. One of those children—now grown—returned to ask, “Why did you do it? Why did you take such a risk to protect us?” And their answer was strikingly simple. They just shrugged and said, “It seemed natural. It was obvious from our faith.” They had no dramatic explanation, no special theology. They simply lived out what they believed: “Jesus laid down his life for us, so we ought to lay down our lives for others.” It was a habit of simple faith. Simple obedience to Christ. And it was enough.[1]
Both Peter and Cornelius in Acts 10 received visions. The vision was clear. The message was simple. But it was hard for them to obey. Cornelius, a Roman officer, had to humble himself and invite Peter—a Jew from the occupied people—to preach the gospel to him. And Peter, a Jew, had to humble himself and cross the barrier he had kept all his life, to enter the home of a Gentile occupier and share the message of salvation.
The gospel message is simple, but it is an insult to our pride. It tells us we are saved by grace alone. That means we cannot boast. We are never better than the next person. We cannot judge others. And since we are bought with a price, our lives are not our own anymore. We belong to Christ.
Simple Faith for You
In today’s passage,
Peter said twice: “We are witnesses” (vv. 39, 41). That is the identity and
calling of every Christian. We are saved—and we are sent to witness to the good
news of Jesus.
What does that look like? It looks different for each of us. Peter and John show us that. Peter witnessed by preaching, healing, leading, and even dying as a martyr. John witnessed more quietly, writing the Gospel and letters, bearing testimony through words and faithfulness.
If you are outgoing, you may share Christ easily with strangers. That’s wonderful. But if you are quiet, you can still witness powerfully. Think of Gandhi. In his autobiography, he admitted that as a child he was a shy and quiet person. He was affraid of everything—snakes, ghosts, the dark, and especially other people. As a child, he would bury himself in books, and the moment school was over, he would run straight home—afraid of having to talk to anyone.” As a young man, he was too scared to speak in meetings. And yet, his shyness became his strength. He said, “My shyness has been my shield and buckler. It has helped me grow. It has guided me to discern the truth.”[2] His one word, his one action carried great weight.
Whether you are outgoing or quiet, we are all called to be witnesses. And the Holy Spirit works through us in unique ways.
Let me close with one more story. A Korean youth once shared her testimony. She grew up in a broken family and lived with her aunt, who was a Buddhist. Every Sunday they fought because the girl wanted to go to church. One Sunday after worship, she prayed: “Father, I can’t love my aunt on my own. I don’t have the power. But Your Spirit lives in me. So Holy Spirit, love her through me.” When she got home, her aunt began yelling as usual. But this time, instead of anger, the girl felt compassion. She hugged her and said, “I’m sorry. You look so tired and worn out. You work so hard to care for me.” Both of them wept. And that very day, her aunt received Christ.
The gospel is simple. Jesus did for us what we could never do for ourselves. So let us believe this good news and share it with others. And as we do, we will see God change lives – beginning with our own. Amen.
