Following Jesus means embracing a cycle of loss and new life. This pattern is not about self-erasure to fit into harmful systems, but about a transformative process. Just as a seed must be buried and break open to multiply, we are invited to release what is for the sake of what could be. This surrender is an act of trust, moving through the reality of death into the promise of resurrection abundance. It is the core of our faith journey. [31:55]
Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. (John 12:24, NIV)
Reflection: What is one thing—a habit, a mindset, or a dream—you are holding onto so tightly that it might be preventing new growth? What would it look like to offer it up with open hands?
Human nature often leans toward self-preservation and maintaining the status quo. We cling to our current lives, identities, and comforts, fearing that any change is a form of annihilation. Yet, this clinging leads to a kind of spiritual stasis, like a artifact preserved in a desert. True life is found not in desperate preservation but in trusting the process of transformation, even when it feels like decay. [47:44]
Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. (Matthew 16:25, NIV)
Reflection: Where in your life are you most tempted to "mummify" a situation or relationship, keeping it unchanged? How might God be inviting you to trust a process of change instead?
The places of greatest life and diversity are not places of preservation but of constant breakdown and renewal. A rainforest teems with abundance precisely because nothing stays the same; everything is composted into new forms of beauty. This is a powerful metaphor for the kind of community God invites us to build—one where our individual offerings break down to create a collective, thriving ecosystem far beyond our individual imaginations. [50:10]
I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. (John 10:10b, NIV)
Reflection: When have you experienced a "rainforest" moment in community, where letting go of your individual plan led to a beautiful collective outcome? What did that teach you about abundance?
God does not ask us to arrive at the divine table with a perfectly finished meal, meant only for ourselves. Nor does God want us to come empty-handed. We are invited to bring the raw ingredients of our lives—our gifts, our struggles, our true selves—and offer them up. The beautiful work of resurrection happens when we trust God and each other to cook together, creating something new and nourishing from our collective offering. [54:01]
Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. (Romans 12:1, NIV)
Reflection: What "ingredients" of your life—your talents, time, or passions—are you currently keeping to yourself? How could you offer them to your community this week?
The journey from death to resurrection begins with a decision to stop clinging. It requires examining our lives to see what we are gripping so tightly that it cannot break down and become something new. This is not a one-time event but a daily practice of open-handed living. It is a trust that God can take our offerings and multiply them into a future of wild beauty and connection that we cannot yet fully see. [55:26]
He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive. (Luke 20:38, NIV)
Reflection: As you look toward the future, what is one area where you feel God inviting you to surrender your need for control and trust in a collective, abundant resurrection?
This sermon centers the death-and-resurrection pattern at the heart of Jesus’ teaching and pushes past tired, coercive readings of “die to yourself.” The text clarifies that Jesus’ call to die does not justify preserving oppressive institutions or forcing individuals to conform; instead, it describes a radical relinquishing that breaks systems of domination and opens space for multiplied life. Two agricultural metaphors structure the reflection: the buried seed that must break down to multiply, and the mustard seed that becomes far more than its tiny beginning. Those images reframe loss as creative surrender—burying identity, status, and comfort so Spirit-led abundance can emerge.
The cross appears as a public confrontation with imperial machinery, not as private moral masochism. The focus rests on collective transformation: confronting death visibly so the social structures that profit from domination lose their claim to finality. Ecological imagery reinforces the point. The desert and its mummifying stasis symbolize attempts to preserve the self and social order; the rainforest, by contrast, models generous decay that fuels astonishing biodiversity. Preservation becomes a kind of hell—Gehenna’s trash-heap metaphor warns that clinging produces dead stasis, not true life.
Sacrifice receives a fresh definition. Rather than private erasure, sacrifice becomes an offering to communal flourishing—bringing ingredients, not a finished dish, to the shared table so the community can co-create resurrection. The concrete invitation asks people to examine what they clutch that prevents transformation, to practice open hands, and to trust that giving away life yields multiplication beyond imagination. The piece closes with prayer and practical invitations for Ash Wednesday and a new pattern of “harbors”—small-group gatherings aimed at deepening communal life and practicing the kind of surrender that seeds resurrection.
Because that's what most people are asking you to preserve when they say die to yourself and they're talking about not being queer anymore or staying in your place as a woman in the hierarchy. When they're saying die to yourself, they're saying, hey, don't let your bigness, your fullness outshine your place in the system, in the order of the way that we think things should be. That is institutional survival strategy. It is scarcity, and it is not what Jesus is talking about.
[00:34:16]
(32 seconds)
#RejectScarcityFaith
What would it mean to either stop clinging or to release and to surrender and say, I don't have to. I don't have to stick with what has been given to me. I don't have to stay in this moment forever. I don't have to have a fully formed three course meal to show up with. I can show up with the best of myself and I can watch it turn into something else. It won't be the thing that I showed up with and I have to get good with that.
[00:56:02]
(34 seconds)
#EmbraceUnfinished
Add this chatbot onto your site with the embed code below
<iframe frameborder="0" src="https://pastors.ai/sermonWidget/sermon/death-to-new-life" width="100%" height="100%" style="height:100vh;"></iframe>Copy