Can God Trust You? Faithful Stewardship in Matthew 25
We spend a lot of time asking whether we can trust God. But this weekend's message flipped the question in a way that's harder to shake: Can God trust you?
Think about it this way. A healthy relationship runs on mutual trust. It would be a contradiction to say, "My marriage is great—she trusts me completely, but I don't trust her at all." In the same way, a strong relationship with God isn't one-directional. Trusting God is a no-brainer, because He is faithful forever and never changes. The surprising, humbling truth is that despite our failures, God actually wants to trust us too.
The parable: what God gives, He expects us to use
As we closed our Transformational Stories series through the parables of Jesus, we landed on the Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25:14-30. A master leaves on a journey and entrusts his wealth to three servants.
"To one he gave five bags of gold, to another two bags, and to another one bag, each according to his ability. Then he went on his journey." (Matthew 25:15)
The first two servants put their money to work and doubled it. The third dug a hole and hid his. When the master returned, he told the faithful servants, "Well done, good and faithful servant" (Matthew 25:21)—but he called the third a "wicked, lazy servant" (Matthew 25:26).
The kind of person God can trust
A faithful servant is simply someone who works well with what God has actually given them. Three qualities stood out:
1. Recognize what God has given you
Your abilities, responsibilities, opportunities, relationships, time, talent, and treasure are all gifts. Not everyone gets the same amount—one got five, one got two, one got one—and that's the point. You are not called to be faithful with what your sister, your hero, or someone you admire online was given. The quickest way to miss your own gifts is to spend your energy envying someone else's. Comparison steals the time you'd otherwise spend being faithful.
2. Choose to be dependable
To be faithful is to be dependable—to actually do what you say you'll do. You can't choose your gifts, but every day you can choose whether you'll be reliable with them. Dependability isn't occasional obedience; it's consistent character. A car that only starts four days out of seven isn't dependable. What would it look like to be a dependable spouse, parent, giver, or servant—showing up even when you don't feel like it? Obedience determined by feelings isn't really obedience at all.
3. Work urgently and strategically
Notice that the servant with five bags "went at once" to put it to work. Delayed obedience is disobedience. But urgency alone isn't enough—doubling money takes planning. God wants willing hearts and wisdom. If you fail to plan, you plan to fail, whether in your finances, your marriage, or your walk with Him.
The reward of faithfulness—and a reason behind it
When the master returned, both faithful servants said something the third never did: "You entrusted me..." They understood they were stewards, not owners. Everything we have—our money, time, relationships, even our next breath—is a gift entrusted to us by grace. When you realize you're the renter and not the owner, you live differently.
"You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share in your master's happiness!" (Matthew 25:23)
Here's a pattern many of us have seen: chase the fruit and you'll be frustrated; pursue the root—faithfulness—and the fruit follows. Be faithful with what's already in front of you instead of complaining about what you don't have. God trusts more responsibility to those who steward the little well.
The cost of faithlessness
What's striking is that the unfaithful servant didn't lose his one bag—he simply buried it. Unfaithfulness isn't only wasting your life; it can be merely maintaining it, refusing to multiply for God's glory and others' good. Two roots showed up: fear ("I was afraid," Matthew 25:25) and selfishness. Fear freezes you; you cannot be fearful and faithful at the same time. We're called to live by faith, not by fear.
The parable's ending is sobering—the gift is taken away and given to someone who will use it, and the servant is cast into darkness. It's a real warning. But the invitation underneath it is grace: God's will is going to get done; the question is whether it gets done through you.
Faithfulness starts with the Faithful One
The good news is that our faithfulness isn't what saves us—His is.
"What if some were unfaithful? Will their unfaithfulness nullify God's faithfulness? Not at all!... for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus." (Romans 3:3-4, 23-24)
The cross is the clearest picture of God's faithfulness toward unfaithful people. The more you trust the Faithful One, the more faithful you become—and the more He can entrust to you.
A takeaway to sit with this week
Take an honest inventory: name three things God has entrusted to you right now—a relationship, a responsibility, a resource. Are you multiplying them, or just maintaining them out of fear? What would faithful, dependable stewardship of that one thing look like this week?
If these questions stirred something in you, we'd love to meet you. Wherever you are on the journey of faith, there's a place for you at Arroyo Church in Livermore and across the Tri-Valley. Come as you are.
The Greatest Invitation: Saying Yes to God’s Feast
We all know what it feels like to open an invitation. Sometimes your heart leaps and you start planning what to wear. Other times you quietly start hunting for a polite excuse to bow out. Invitations put a question in front of us that we can't ignore: Will you come?
This Sunday, as part of our Transformational Stories series on the parables of Jesus, we looked at the greatest invitation any of us will ever receive—God's invitation to salvation, relationship, and joy in His presence forever. And like every invitation, it requires a response.
The parable of the great banquet
Jesus tells this story after a fellow dinner guest makes a hopeful comment about God's kingdom:
"Blessed is the one who will eat at the feast in the kingdom of God." ... Jesus replied: "A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests." (Luke 14:15–16)
The picture is simple but layered. The host who throws the feast represents God. The banquet represents heaven. And the guests? That's us—ordinary people invited into an extravagant celebration we didn't earn. From this parable, three truths rise to the surface: the benefits of the invitation, the barriers that keep us from it, and who belongs at the table.
1. The benefit: an invitation into lasting joy
The word "blessed" in this passage carries the idea of deep, settled happiness. Biblical blessing isn't a hashtag for a good vacation or a great meal—it's a joy that flows from being in relationship with God. Which means, in a real sense, Christians ought to be the most joyful people on earth, because our happiness isn't anchored to circumstances.
That's the key: joy is less about a what and more about a who. As the psalmist wrote:
"You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand." (Psalm 16:11)
Ever notice how even the best celebrations carry a faint sadness, because we know they'll end? The banquet of heaven never ends. And surprisingly, the door into that joy opens through honesty about our brokenness. Jesus said, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 5:3). Recognizing your brokenness is a prerequisite to experiencing blessedness. Heaven is not a place for perfect people; it's a place for forgiven people.
And this joy isn't only future. Peter reminds us that even now, before we see Him face to face, we can "believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls" (1 Peter 1:8–9). Eternity starts the moment you say yes.
2. The barriers: the excuses we make
Here's where the parable turns painfully honest. The invited guests respond—but not the way you'd hope:
"But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said, 'I have just bought a field, and I must go and see it...' Another said, 'I have just bought five yoke of oxen...' Still another said, 'I just got married, so I can't come.'" (Luke 14:18–20)
These aren't ancient problems. They're our excuses too:
"I'm too busy." We make time for what matters most. If you're too busy for God, you're simply too busy. A quietly distracted life can keep a person from the kingdom just as effectively as an openly reckless one.
"Money matters more." More money rarely means more happiness—usually it just means more to manage. The temporary things of this world don't follow us into eternity.
"Family first." Family is a good gift, but it isn't first—Jesus is. Ironically, when we put Christ first, we become better spouses and parents, not worse ones. A gift was never meant to carry the weight of being a god.
"God isn't real." Paul writes that God's "invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse" (Romans 1:20). Creation points to a Creator, just as a painting points to a painter.
3. Who belongs: unexpected guests welcome
When the first guests decline, the host does something remarkable:
"Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame." ... "Sir," the servant said, "what you ordered has been done, but there is still room." (Luke 14:21–22)
Notice that beautiful line: there is still room. In the ancient world, a wealthy host invited people of status and influence. But this host fills His table with those who could offer nothing in return. And spiritually, that's every one of us—blind, unable to hike our way to heaven by good works, wandered far from home. Yet He pursues us anyway:
"You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly." (Romans 5:8)
Faith isn't working your way to God. It's a trust fall—letting yourself fall into the arms of the One who has already extended His hand. He didn't wait for you to clean up your life. He came for you while you were still a sinner.
A takeaway to sit with
The most important decision you'll ever make isn't where you live, what you do, or who you marry—it's whether you say yes to God's invitation. And here's the sobering part: refusing to decide is itself a decision. Today is the day of salvation.
Reflection question: If you're honest, which "excuse" is closest to your heart right now—busyness, money, family, or doubt? What would it look like to set it down and simply say yes?
If you're anywhere in the Livermore area or across the Tri-Valley and you're wrestling with this invitation, we'd love to celebrate with you. There is still room—and there's a seat with your name on it.
What Jesus Said About the End of the World (Matthew 25:1-13)
Y2K. The Mayan calendar in 2012. The uncertainty of 2020. And now, headlines about global conflict and artificial intelligence. If you've been alive for any of it, you've heard someone confidently announce that the end of the world was near. And yet here we still are.
So how should we actually think about the end of all things? There's really only one voice worth trusting on the subject, and that's the voice of Jesus. In this message we turned to one of His parables and asked a simple question: what did Jesus Himself say about the end of the world?
The main idea: what you believe about the end shapes how you live now
Here's why this matters even if "end times" talk makes you nervous: how you view the end of the world determines how you live in the present. Imagine you were promised a life-changing reward if you simply stayed to the very end of an event. You'd stay, wouldn't you? What we believe about how the story ends shapes how we spend our time, our energy, and our relationships today.
This parable comes right after Matthew 24, Jesus' longest teaching about His return. Matthew 25:1-13 distills that teaching into a single, unforgettable picture. Three truths rise to the surface.
1. God's delay makes a way
"At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish and five were wise... The bridegroom was a long time in coming, and they all became drowsy and fell asleep." (Matthew 25:1-5)
In the ancient world, a wedding didn't come with a printed "save the date." The groom could arrive at any hour, and the attendants had to be ready whenever he showed up. In the parable, the groom pictures Jesus, and the delay is real and intentional. There is a danger in the delay: the temptation to grow drowsy, careless, and spiritually lazy, telling ourselves that a Savior who hasn't returned yet must never be coming.
But the delay isn't a broken promise. Peter answered this very question for the early church:
"With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." (2 Peter 3:8-9)
The delay reveals three things about God. First, He sees time differently; two thousand years to us is a blink to the eternal Author of history. Second, He is patient. If Christ had returned two hundred years ago, none of us would have had the chance to know Him at all. Third, His delay makes room for repentance. Repentance is a change of mind that grows, over time, into a changed life. God's patience isn't permission to keep living for yourself; it's an invitation to turn to Him.
2. You have to stay ready
"At midnight the cry rang out: 'Here's the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!'... The virgins who were ready went in with him to the wedding banquet. And the door was shut." (Matthew 25:6-10)
All ten women knew the groom was coming. The difference wasn't knowledge; it was preparation. Five brought extra oil and stayed ready. Five didn't. When you know Christ could return at any moment, three practices keep you ready:
Live like He could return today. What habits would you drop instantly if you knew Jesus was arriving in an hour? John wrote so that believers might "be confident and unashamed before him at his coming" (1 John 2:28). That's a healthy question to sit with.
Help others get ready. If heaven really is the joy the Bible describes, the most selfish thing a Christian can do is get ready alone. Love overflows; it invites people to the party.
Remember the reward. Readiness isn't grim duty. It leads to restoration.
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." (Revelation 21:4)
3. The door is open now, but it will not stay open forever
"Later the others also came. 'Lord, Lord,' they said, 'open the door for us!' But he replied, 'Truly I tell you, I don't know you.' Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour." (Matthew 25:11-13)
This is the sobering part. The door never closes on someone who never had a chance; it closes on those who had every chance and never walked through. And notice the reason those on the outside were turned away. It wasn't that they were too sinful. It was that Jesus said, "I don't know you." The way in isn't perfection; it's connection. Jesus said it plainly:
"I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved... The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." (John 10:9-10)
Anyone can come. It doesn't matter who you are, what you've done, or what's been done to you. All you do is walk through by faith: trust that Jesus lived the life you couldn't, died in your place, and rose again. The wedding of heaven has already been paid for by His blood. You don't earn your way in. You get ready, and you show up.
So don't play games with God, assuming there's always more time. Jesus didn't call us to obsess over dates and calculations. He simply said: keep watch. Be faithful. Be ready.
A takeaway to carry with you
Here's the reflection question from this passage: If Jesus returned today, would He find you ready? If you're ready, stay ready. If you're not, the door is open right now, while your heart is still beating. Today is a good day to turn to Him.
If you're anywhere in Livermore or the wider Tri-Valley and you're wrestling with these questions, we'd love to walk with you. Come as you are, wherever you are on the journey.
God Wants to Work Through You: Living as a River, Not a Reservoir
Picture two bodies of water. The first is a river like the Columbia, fed from a source high in the mountains, flowing hundreds of miles and bringing life to everything it touches. The second is a reservoir—pleasant enough for an afternoon, but still, stagnant, and man-made. It doesn't flow anywhere. The difference between the two comes down to a single thing: a source, and whether the water is allowed to move.
In this message from our Transformational Stories series, Pastor Josh used that picture to ask a question worth sitting with: are you a river or a reservoir? God doesn't just want to work in you—He wants to work through you. The real question isn't whether He desires to; it's whether you'll let Him.
The Parable: Workers in the Vineyard
The message walked through Jesus' parable in Matthew 20:1–16. A landowner goes out repeatedly through the day—early morning, mid-morning, noon, afternoon, and even at the eleventh hour—to hire workers for his vineyard. When it comes time to be paid, everyone receives the same wage, regardless of how long they worked. Understandably, those who started at dawn grumble. But the landowner answers:
"I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn't you agree to work for a denarius? … Are you so envious because I am generous? So the last will be first, and the first will be last." (Matthew 20:13–16)
From this parable, the sermon drew out three movements: God's invitation to work through us, a clarification about how grace relates to that work, and the right motivation behind it.
1. God's Invitation: Answer the Call to Go
Notice how the work begins in the parable. The workers aren't out hunting for the landowner—he comes and finds them standing in the marketplace. Likewise, God calls us first. We don't have to track Him down and hope He answers; He has already reached out. Our part is simply to say yes.
That means the qualification God looks for isn't a polished résumé or extraordinary talent. As the message put it, your greatest ability is your availability. And this working "for God" is, at its heart, about people. It echoes Jesus' final words to His disciples:
"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." (Matthew 28:19–20)
Making disciples means helping people come to know Jesus, grow in Him, and then pour into others. You don't need a title to start—you start with your circle. The neighbor, the coworker, the family member who wandered from faith years ago—no one in your life is there by accident.
2. The Clarification: Grace Is Not Dependent on Works
Why did every worker receive the same pay? Because their wages were never really about their labor. It was all a gift. And that's the heart of grace—receiving what we don't deserve. The message named three ways grace changes everything:
It frees you from the pressure of self-salvation. Trying to earn your way to God is a mountain you can't climb. Grace moves you from "I have to earn it" to "I simply receive it."
It means you can be saved now rather than never. Whether you come to Christ as a child, in middle age, or at the very end, He saves. Think of the thief on the cross, who at his final hour heard Jesus say, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise" (Luke 23:43). It is never too late.
It leads to more good works, not fewer. Works aren't the foundation of salvation, but they are the fountain that flows from it.
As Paul writes: "For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say 'No' to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age" (Titus 2:11–12). The key to godliness isn't grit—it's understanding grace. When you realize you were spiritually dead and God brought you back to life, the natural response is to want to live like the One who saved you.
3. The Motivation: A Humble Heart
The workers who grumbled had a problem deeper than fairness—they had pride. "I worked harder; I deserve more." But the sobering truth is that if we got what was fair, none of us would have anything to boast about. Everything is a gift.
Jesus described the right posture in another parable: "So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty'" (Luke 17:10). The temptation is to use God—to treat our obedience as leverage for the life we want. The invitation is to let God use us, serving out of gratitude rather than negotiation. As the message put it: don't be the number-one draft pick who complains about playing time; be the last pick who's simply glad to be on the team.
Only One Life
The sermon closed with the words of missionary C.T. Studd, who gave up fame and fortune to reach people who had never heard the gospel: "Only one life, 'twill soon be past; only what's done for Christ will last." You have one life, one chance to let God flow through you like a river rather than sitting still like a reservoir.
A Reflection Question
God wants to work through you—but is He? Where is one place this week you could stop consuming and start contributing—one person in your circle you could love, serve, or point toward Jesus?
If you're in Livermore or anywhere across the Tri-Valley and you're looking for a church family where you can know Jesus and be sent out to show His love, we'd love to meet you this Sunday.
Forgiving When You Don’t Feel Like It: A Study of Matthew 18
It's been said that bitterness is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. The truth in that line stings: no matter how much resentment you nurse toward someone who hurt you, the person you damage most is yourself. So what do you do when you know you should forgive—but you simply don't feel like it?
This message kicks off a new series, Transformational Stories, walking through five parables of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew. We begin with the parable often called the unforgiving servant—a story Jesus told in answer to a very practical question from Peter.
Peter's Question and Jesus' Surprising Math
"Then Peter came up to him and said, 'Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?' Jesus said to him, 'I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.'" (Matthew 18:21–22)
Peter likely thought he was being generous—seven was the number of completeness. But Jesus wasn't handing out a new limit to count toward. He was exposing how often we forgive at a fraction of how God forgives us. We say, "I'll forgive when I feel like it," or "when they deserve it," or "only a certain number of times." Jesus calls us higher. The challenge isn't just severe wounds—the betrayals and abuses that feel like being stabbed in the back—but also the everyday, repeated offenses of living in real relationships. Anyone you stay close to long enough will sin against you, and you against them.
Three Truths About Forgiveness
1. Forgiveness is needed because of a debt
In the parable, a king settles accounts with a servant who owes him ten thousand talents—a debt so staggering it could never be repaid in a lifetime.
"So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.'" (Matthew 18:26)
That servant pictures us before God. Scripture says we have all sinned and fallen short of God's glory. Sin isn't merely a slip-up, like dropping a plate by accident. It's loving something more than the God who made us for himself; it's crossing the boundaries our good King set for our flourishing. The debt this creates is real and immense—and no amount of church attendance, kindness, or generosity can pay it off.
"...no one will ever be made right with God by obeying the law." (Galatians 2:16)
2. Forgiveness from God is free—but not cheap
"And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt." (Matthew 18:27)
The king didn't forgive 90% or 50% of the debt. He wiped it clean. This is what sets Christianity apart from every system of religious earning: you don't achieve forgiveness, you receive it. Yet free doesn't mean costless—it means you aren't the one who pays. Jesus is.
"He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness... he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross." (Colossians 2:13–14)
Notice the heart behind it. The king had pity—compassion in the middle of the servant's brokenness. God never pushes away a humble person who calls out for help; he opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. And his forgiveness is full: past, present, and future sins covered. Like a home that's fully paid off, there's nothing left owing. You can rest. You receive it simply by faith—trusting Jesus, the way you cash a check someone has already funded.
"Everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name." (Acts 10:43)
3. Forgiving others is not optional
Here the parable turns. The same servant, just released from billions, finds a fellow servant who owes him a comparatively tiny amount—and throttles him, refusing mercy, throwing him into prison. When the king hears, he is furious.
"So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart." (Matthew 18:35)
You can't spell forgive without give. A heart genuinely transformed by God's mercy will, over time, become a merciful heart. That doesn't mean it's easy or instant—but a refusal to forgive at all reveals a heart that hasn't yet been gripped by grace.
One important clarification: forgiveness is not the same as automatic trust or instant reconciliation. In cases of serious harm—abuse, betrayal, repeated wounding—you can release the offense to God without immediately restoring full trust. Rebuilding may take time and wisdom. But the goal of forgiveness is still restoration wherever it's possible, not using "forgiveness" as a label while quietly cutting everyone off.
Where the Power Comes From
So how do we forgive when we don't feel like it? First, rest in God's forgiveness of you.
"Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you." (Ephesians 4:32)
Forgiven people become forgiving people. The gospel both comforts us (God loves me though I don't deserve it) and humbles us (I'm a sinner who couldn't save myself). That humility dismantles the lie that keeps us bitter: "I would never do what they did." We're all on the same level—all needing the same mercy.
Second, ask God for the power. Jesus taught us to pray, "forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors" (Matthew 6:12). If forgiveness feels impossible in your own strength, pray for a transformed heart—and trust that this is a prayer God delights to answer.
Remember the cross. After being beaten, mocked, and nailed there, Jesus looked at the very people who put him there and said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." If he can forgive that, he can give you the grace to forgive whoever comes to mind right now.
A Reflection to Carry With You
Two questions sit at the heart of this message: Have you been freed by God's forgiveness? And who do you need to forgive? You ultimately have one of two roads—the freedom that flows from forgiveness, or the slow isolation of bitterness.
If you'd like to explore this with people in person, we'd love to welcome you at Arroyo Church here in Livermore in the Tri-Valley—a place where we're learning together to know and show the love of Jesus.