The Misunderstood King

From The War Room

It’s been a little while since I’ve written — about six weeks, give or take. Life has been heavy lately. Like so many others, I was caught in a massive corporate layoff. Over 13,000 of us were let go, and I suddenly found myself staring down a new season — one that’s pressing me to redefine and upgrade not just my skills, but my perspective.

On top of that, my health has been a battle. A few things have been weighing on me physically, and one of them will soon require surgery. It hasn’t been easy. Honestly, some days I’ve just been trying to breathe through the weight of it all — work, worry, and the whirlwind of the holidays.

But through it all, I’ve kept the faith.

I’ve been spending more time in my War Room — not just talking, but listening. Turning the pages of Scripture. Walking slowly through the Gospels. Sitting quietly with the Lord in prayer. And something beautiful has happened in the stillness: God began to guide my hands, my heart, and even my study.

A verse here.
A sermon there.
A conversation with a friend.
A phrase that wouldn’t let go.

And I realized — God’s been whispering something. Not just for me, but for anyone willing to slow down and listen.

So I hit pause on my Monday in Matthew series for just a moment to follow this thread — and what came from it is this new series: Redefining Messiah. I believe this message is timely, and it’s been deeply personal for me. I pray it encourages you the way it’s been reshaping me.

Let’s walk through this together — heart open, eyes on Jesus. He still invites us the same way He always has:

“Come, follow Me.”
(Matthew 4:19)

Redefining Messiah

When Jesus began His public ministry around age 30, He stepped into a world charged with religious tension, national expectation, and spiritual confusion. In the region of Judea, the idea of “Messiah” wasn’t just misunderstood — it was fundamentally distorted.

Before Jesus could claim the title of Messiah, He had to redefine it.

Two Groups, One Expectation

At the heart of the religious landscape were two powerful groups: the Sadducees and the Pharisees. Each held a different theology — but both were mistaken in what they believed about Messiah.

• The Sadducees
  • Accepted only the Torah (Genesis–Deuteronomy) as Scripture
  • Rejected the writings of the Prophets and Psalms as inspired
  • Therefore, they didn’t believe a Messiah was coming — because kingship and messianic prophecy appear primarily in the prophetic books (like Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Psalms)
  • Messiah wasn’t on their radar at all. To them, he didn’t exist.

• The Pharisees
  • Accepted the Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings — the full Hebrew Scriptures (what we’d call the Old Testament)
  • Believed in a coming descendant of David, a royal figure who would restore Israel’s glory
  • But their vision of Messiah was nationalistic and militaristic:
    • A warrior king
    • A man who would shatter Israel’s enemies
    • A liberator who would reclaim Israel as a superpower

But here’s what both groups agreed on: If a Messiah were to come, he would be only a man. His reign would be local, perhaps over Judea, Samaria, and Galilee — but certainly not eternal, divine, or global.

A King They Didn’t Expect

And yet, into this world steps Jesus — healing the sick, forgiving sins, confronting religious power, and preaching a kingdom that didn’t come with swords or banners, but with grace, truth, and upside-down priorities.

He was acting like a King… but not the kind they expected.

On multiple occasions in the Gospels (see John 6:14–15 and John 12:12–16), the crowds were so moved by His miracles and authority that they tried to make Him king by force. But Jesus withdrew. He escaped the crowd.

“Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself.”

– John 6:15 (NIV)

Why would He do that?

Because they didn’t understand who the Messiah was supposed to be. They were ready to crown Him — but for the wrong reasons. Jesus knew that if He accepted the title on their terms, He’d reinforce their flawed expectations: a Messiah of war, nationalism, and earthly power.

Instead, He was redefining the word as He walked it out.

Breadcrumbs and Questions

Jesus didn’t redefine Messiah through one sermon. He left breadcrumbs — hints, questions, conversations — inviting people to reconsider what the Scriptures really said about the Anointed One.

One of the most powerful examples is in Matthew 22:41–45, when He turned the tables on the Pharisees and asked them a question:

“What do you think about the Messiah? Whose son is he?”
– Matthew 22:42a (NIV)

They answered confidently:

“The son of David,” they replied.
– Matthew 22:42b (NIV)

Everyone knew this answer. It was Messiah 101 in first-century Judaism. He would be a descendant of David. But Jesus challenges them by quoting Psalm 110:1 — a psalm attributed to David himself:

“The Lord said to my Lord: ‘Sit at my right hand until I put your enemies under your feet.’”
– Psalm 110:1 (NIV)

Then Jesus asks:

“If then David calls him ‘Lord,’ how can he be his son?”
– Matthew 22:45 (NIV)

Let that sink in.

If David — Israel’s greatest king — refers to the coming Messiah as “my Lord”, then Messiah must be greater than David, not merely a descendant. Jesus is planting the idea that Messiah is more than human — divine, even.

This stunned the Pharisees. It exposed a massive hole in their theology. And they had no answer.

“No one could say a word in reply, and from that day on no one dared to ask him any more questions.”
– Matthew 22:46 (NIV)

Slow Reveal, Gentle Pace

Jesus didn’t just arrive and say, “I am the Messiah” — because if He had, everyone would have assigned their own definitions to that title. He had to set the direction, but move at the people’s pace.

As Pastor Andy Stanley once illustrated: a grandfather walking with his grandson on the beach sets the direction, but the child sets the pace. If the grandfather moves too fast, the child will stop. So the grandfather slows down — not because he’s weak, but because he cares.

That’s what Jesus does in the Gospels. He’s the Messiah, but He’s not in a hurry. He’s redefining what Messiah means, even while embodying it. And meeting people where they are.

Why This Matters Today

Many people today still carry distorted views of Jesus. Some see Him only as a teacher. Others as a revolutionary. Still others as a symbol of political power, personal comfort, or spiritual abstraction.

But if we truly want to understand who Jesus is, we have to let Him define Himself — not through headlines or culture wars, but through His own words and actions.

Start with a Gospel — Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John. Just follow Jesus. His invitation still stands:

“Come, follow me.”
– Matthew 4:19 (NIV)

You won’t just learn who He is.
You’ll begin to see what God is like.

“Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.”
– John 14:9 (NIV)

Coming Next in the Series

In Part 1, we saw how Jesus didn’t just arrive and declare Himself Messiah — He redefined what Messiah truly meant. But He wasn’t only redefining a title… He was redefining an entire way of life.

Next week, we’ll explore how Jesus began to reshape the very foundations of religious thought — not by adding more laws, but by pointing to the heart of God. While the religious leaders built walls with rules — 613 of them to be exact — Jesus built bridges with love. He said things that turned everything upside down (or maybe right-side up):

“Love the Lord your God… and love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37–39)

In doing so, He didn’t just challenge the old system — He fulfilled it. And then He offered something far greater than legalism: a life led by love.

Join me next week as we follow this thread even deeper — where mercy triumphs over sacrifice, and love fulfills the law.

Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus,

You are not always who we expect — and that is such a gift.
You didn’t come to meet our demands; You came to meet our deepest needs.
Where we asked for a warrior, You came as a servant.
Where we longed for deliverance, You offered redemption.
Where we wanted a throne, You chose a cross.

Help us to follow You not as the Messiah we’ve imagined,
but as the Messiah You truly are — the One sent by the Father,
full of grace and truth.

Give us the courage to let go of our assumptions
and the humility to listen when You redefine what we thought we knew.
Teach us to walk at Your pace, not ours.
To trust Your timing, not our timelines.
And to anchor our hope not in a system, but in a Savior.

May we come to see You more clearly,
know You more deeply,
and reflect You more fully

— in a world still longing for a King.

Amen.