We have listened
to Jesus
on the mountain.
Words of blessing.
Words of life.
Words gentle enough
to lift the weary.
And then
words that search.
Words that warn.
Watch out, he says.
It is a surprise.
He has called us blessed.
What danger remains?
Not only the danger outside.
The danger within.
Voices among the people of God.
Pretenders.
False guides.
Wolves
in sheep’s clothing.
They promise life
and lead toward ruin.
Why do we listen?
Because lies sound simple.
Because easy answers
have their appeal.
Because complacency
likes soft ground.
So Jesus says
look for fruit.
Not the claims.
Not the appearance.
Fruit.
What grows
when no one is watching.
Whether the character of Jesus
is taking shape
in a human life.
And then
the warning turns.
What about you?
Are you near to Jesus
or only near his name?
Many will say,
Lord, Lord.
Many will point
to works,
to zeal,
to results.
And he will say
to some,
I never knew you.
This is the frightening thing:
it is possible
to appear close to Jesus
and still be far from him.
So he tells
one last story.
Two houses.
Both built.
Both standing.
Both looking complete.
But one is built
on sand.
On appearance.
On hurry.
On hearing
without obeying.
The other is built
on rock.
On trust.
On obedience.
On a life
quietly shaped
by the words of Christ.
Then the storm comes.
Rain.
Flood.
Wind.
And one house falls.
The other stands.
What remains in the end
is not appearance
but foundation.
To remain in Jesus
is to stay near.
To listen.
To return.
To let his words
sink below the surface.
To be known by him
is life.
So this is warning,
yes.
But mercy too.
It is not too late
to leave the lie.
Not too late
to come to the rock.
Hold to his teaching.
Let the truth
set you free.
Repent.
Believe the good news.
And build your life
on the one
who will hold
when everything else
gives way.
Original message by Sean Tan, The Bridge Church Macquarie Park NSW
29 March 2026
The Afterword 
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