Better Start Here
By Russ Johnson
Life is hard.
Relationships go sideways. Our bodies stop cooperating. The thing we worked for doesn’t happen. We lose something we thought was secure.
And the world doesn't help.
Every scroll brings another reason to believe things are coming apart faster than anyone can put them back together.
And underneath it all hums a low, steady anxiety we've learned to call normal.
So we reach for whatever helps us feel certain — ways to know where we stand, whether we're enough, and how to manage everything.
Jesus had an annoying habit
of refusing to cooperate.
When people wanted systems, he told stories.
Farmers lavishly throwing seed on rocks and roads.
Women tearing apart the house for one measly coin, then throwing a party that cost more than the coin.
Shepherds making terrible business decisions because one lost sheep still belongs to them.
Fathers throwing parties for foolish sons who deserve probation.
Terrible economics.
Questionable agriculture.
No leadership principles whatsoever.
Jesus called them parables.
And if modern sermons are curated presentations designed to clarify, parables do something almost exactly opposite.
They make things worse.
They don’t tidy up our theological messes. They make new ones as they pull the rug out from under what we were certain we already understood and then leave us standing there holding the rug.
Which raises a perfectly reasonable question:
Why?
If you’re announcing the kingdom of God and hoping people understand it, why not make it easy to understand?
The disciples wondered the same thing.
“Why do you speak to the people in parables?” (Matt. 13:10)
Which is basically: Jesus, have you considered being less confusing?
His answer did not help.
“The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven
has been given to you, but not to them….
Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand.” (vs 11, 13)
Well. Glad we cleared that up.
Except Jesus was doing something far more interesting than withholding information. He was exposing what they were sure of.
Because the greatest obstacle to seeing something new isn't always ignorance. Sometimes it’s certainty.
We already have categories.
God.
Sin.
Grace.
Faith.
Holiness.
Judgment.
We hear the words and before Jesus finishes the sentence,
we already know what they mean.
Which is precisely why a definition sometimes won’t do.
A definition can be filed away. A story gets under the door.
It lets you nod along until somewhere near the end you realize the villain looks suspiciously like you, the hero isn't behaving the way heroes are supposed to behave, and God apparently hasn't read the same theology books you have.
That’s what parables do.
They don't merely give us new information. They expose the assumptions we brought with us.
Which is precisely why Jesus told them to: “Consider carefully what you hear.” (Mark 4:24)
Because Jesus wasn’t
trying to keep God hidden.
He says so in the very next breath: “Do you bring in a lamp to put it under a bowl or a bed? Instead, don’t you put it on its stand? For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed.” (Mark 4:21–22)
The mystery isn’t meant to remain a mystery. The hidden thing is meant to be seen. And the lamp Jesus has been talking about is standing right in front of them.
Him.
He is the secret of the kingdom of God. He is the lamp that makes the Father visible. The problem isn’t that God refuses to be seen. It’s that without Jesus, we’re left with the God we already had in mind.
We don't come to Jesus with a blank slate. We bring the God we already had in mind with us.
And if we get God wrong, everything downstream — sin, law, grace, faith, judgment, growth, forgiveness, church, discipleship — starts bending with it.
That’s why the resources ahead — What Jesus Revealed, What Jesus Started, and The Table Guide — don’t start with a framework. They start with Jesus, and what comes into view when he’s the one holding the lamp.
You don’t have to see it all before you begin.
The disciples didn’t either.
Just stay curious. Consider carefully what you hear, until grace isn’t just something you believe…
it’s the light you see by
in the life you already have
and the world
you’re actually in.