By Pastor Dave Holland
“David calls him ‘Lord.’ How then can he be his son?” Luke 20:44 (NIV)
What does this passage tell us about Jesus? What does it say about me?
The Jewish people knew the Messiah would come from David’s family line. Throughout the Gospels, desperate people cried out to Jesus, “Son of David,” pleading for healing and mercy. But, Jesus wanted them to look higher.
The religious leaders knew their Scriptures. They understood theology and could debate doctrine. Yet, all that knowledge did not enable them to recognize the One standing directly in front of them. They saw a teacher from Nazareth. Jesus wanted them to see the Lord.
Christ pointed them to Psalm 110, where David wrote, “The Lord said to my lord: ‘Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.’”
Then Jesus asked the obvious question: If David calls the Messiah “Lord,” how can the Messiah merely be David’s son? Jesus is David’s son—and David’s Lord. He is fully human and fully divine. He walked dusty roads, became hungry, grew tired, and wept. Yet He is also the eternal King who sits at the right hand of the Father.
Luke’s Gentile readers lived beneath the shadow of Rome, where Caesar claimed enormous authority. But Jesus was a different kind of King.
Caesar could command an army. Jesus commanded the wind.
Caesar could occupy a nation. Jesus could forgive sins.
Caesar demanded allegiance. Jesus transformed human hearts.
And that brings this passage painfully close to home.
I remember the rude awakening I experienced as a young believer when I discovered Jesus was not only my Savior from sin—He was also my present Lord. I liked the Savior part. The Lord part was more challenging. I wanted Jesus to forgive me, bless me, protect me, and eventually take me to heaven. But Jesus wanted something more. He wanted me.
He wanted to lead my decisions, shape my behavior, govern my relationships, redirect my ambitions, and confront the attitudes nobody else could see. Following Jesus meant more than believing something about Him. It meant surrendering myself to Him.
Over 55 years have passed since I first trusted Christ. I’ve earned seminary degrees and spent about forty years in pastoral ministry. I’ve preached sermons, led churches, studied Scripture, and accumulated a lifetime of Christian experience. And, I have discovered something uncomfortable: I can still make it about me.
That is why Jesus’ warning about the teachers of the law troubles me. They enjoyed respectful greetings, important seats, and being recognized as spiritual men.
I don’t wear flowing robes. But I understand the temptation. I enjoy being respected. I appreciate someone remembering a sermon or telling me something I did helped them. There is nothing wrong with encouragement. The danger begins when I start needing it.
Serving Jesus can quietly become wanting people to notice me serving Jesus. The ministry becomes my ministry. The accomplishment becomes my accomplishment. The story becomes my story. Almost without noticing, the servant moves toward the center while Jesus moves toward the edge. That is spiritual pride.
Perhaps the temptation becomes even more subtle as we grow older. We have accumulated accomplishments, titles, possessions, relationships, disappointments, and memories. We worked hard, raised families, built careers, served churches, survived losses, and learned some things the hard way. We have a history. And history can become either an altar where we thank God for His faithfulness—or a trophy case where we admire ourselves.
Jesus reminds me I am not the main character of my story. He is. My life has never really been about what I accomplished for Jesus. It is about what Jesus, in His mercy, has done in and through me. That changes the way I want to finish my life.
I don’t need a better seat at the banquet. I want to sit closer to Jesus. I don’t need people to remember my name. I want my children and grandchildren to remember His. I don’t need another title. I want to hear Him say, “Well done.”
The scribes wanted people looking at them. Jesus tells us to look higher—past the titles, accomplishments, applause and ourselves.
There, seated at the right hand of the Father, is the Son of David—the Lord of David and the Lord of us all.
The longer I walk with Him, the more I want my life to say one simple thing: Less of me. More of Jesus.
Dave Holland pastored churches for thirty-eight years before retiring in Destin, Florida. His new book, Resurrection Jesus, is now available. You can get a copy of his books from his website, DaveHolland.org, or at Amazon.com. Pastor Dave is available to preach and teach at churches and conferences. Contact him at DavidvHolland54@gmail.com.
