Watch or listen to the sermon:

Subscribe to the podcast:

Joy That Reorders Your Entire Life

Reflections on Matthew 13:44–46

Two of the shortest parables Jesus ever told come back-to-back in Matthew 13:44–46. One is only a sentence long. But packed into these three verses is a vision of the kingdom of God that can bring you clarity and peace.

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.”

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.”
(Matthew 13:44–46, ESV)

These are not guilt parables. They’re not Jesus wagging his finger at you, feel-bad-about-yourself stories. They’re joy parables. The kind of joy that reorders your entire life. And they came at the perfect time as we wrapped up our little summer series on the kingdom of God.

We started with the Parable of the Sower, where Jesus talks about how the Word of God is sown generously — with wild abandon, really — on all types of soil. The focus there wasn’t on the seed. It was on the soil. It was an invitation to reflect: how are we receiving the Word? Are we hard-packed? Shallow? Distracted by the cares of life and the pursuit of wealth? Or open and receptive?

Then we moved to the Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds. A good field, planted with good seed, but the enemy sneaks in and sows weeds. And the Master says, “Let them grow together.” We learned that it’s not our job to sort. It’s not our job to purify the world or even the church. Our job is to love with patience and grace.

And now, this week, we ask: what happens when the Word takes root? When the kingdom actually breaks through and you see its value?

That’s what these two parables are about.

One stumbles, one searches

In the first story, a man is walking through a field and stumbles across buried treasure. It’s easy to think, “Well that’s a bit far-fetched.” But in Jesus’ day, it wasn’t. There were no banks, no safes. When bandits or invading armies were a constant threat, burying valuables in a field could actually be the safest option. And over time, the knowledge of where that treasure lay could be lost. The original owner could die. The field could change hands. And one day, someone comes along and discovers it by accident. They kick a stone that reveals a bit of something unnatural or the weather has revealed what a man had buried.

In Jesus’ parable, the man stumbles across something of unimaginable value. And he knows what to do. He hides it again, sells everything he owns, and buys the field. Not out of guilt. Out of joy. It just makes sense.

And then there’s the pearl merchant. He’s not stumbling. He’s searching. He knows pearls. He’s seen the best. He makes his living on the margins of quality and scarcity. But then, he sees it. The pearl to end all pearls. And everything else fades. He liquidates everything and walks away with the one thing worth having.

Both responses are the same

Whether by accident or by a long, diligent search, the moment of recognition is the same: this is it. And when you really see Jesus for who He is, when the good news sinks in — not just to your mind, but deep into your heart and gut and bones — your whole life gets reoriented. It’s not obligation. It’s not law. It’s joy.

John Newton, the slave ship captain who became the writer of Amazing Grace, didn’t go looking for grace. He was in a storm and cried out to God. And he was heard. That moment, like a man kicking through a field, changed everything. Slowly, but truly, it reoriented his entire life.

C.S. Lewis, on the other hand, was a merchant of fine pearls. A literary scholar. A seeker of truth. Through conversation, reflection, and reason, he moved from skepticism to faith. And when the gospel finally struck him with its full force, he was, as he later wrote, Surprised by Joy. The kind of joy that flips your priorities upside down.

You can't cling to everything else

Jesus said it like this:

“No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” (Matthew 6:24) 

This isn’t a threat. It’s a statement of fact.

There are a hundred ways to say this:
You can’t have your cake and eat it too.
You can’t play in the rain and stay dry.
You can’t row north and south at the same time.
You can’t keep clinging to everything else and still receive the kingdom.

But again, Jesus is not trying to bully anyone. It’s just the way it is. The man doesn’t begrudge the sale of his possessions. The merchant doesn’t complain about closing his accounts. This is what joy does. It reorders your entire life.

What if I don’t feel that joy?

That’s a fair question. Maybe you believe. Maybe you’re following. But it doesn’t feel like joy. It feels like drudgery. Duty. Going through the motions.

The answer to that isn’t to manufacture joy. It’s not to fake it till you make it. It’s not to shame yourself into being grateful.

The answer is to go back to the treasure. Look again. Polish it off. Learn the value of what you’ve found. Get back into Jesus.

Sometimes what starts as joy fades into obligation. That’s human. That’s real. But it’s also a cue to turn our eyes back toward the King. To dig deeper. To remember what it is we’ve been given.

The treasure is Jesus

There’s an old quote by Jim Elliot that comes to mind:

“He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

Jesus is the treasure. Jesus is the pearl. He is the one who gave up everything, even dying on the cross, to make you His own.

And in Him, everything else fades.

The kingdom isn’t for the worthy. It’s for the ones with eyes to see and ears to hear. And what’s required? Everything else. But, one more time, this is not a threat. It’s a statement. You can’t take a shower and stay dry. You can’t live in the kingdom and keep something else as your first priority. But everything else is nothing compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord.

So go back to the field. Kick the stones. Look again at the pearl. And let your heart be reoriented — not by guilt, but by joy.