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Mar 29, 2026

The Crowd That Praised Him on Sunday Crucified Him by Friday
"And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest."
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Matthew 21:9, KJV

Palm Sunday is one of the most celebrated days in Christianity.

And it should be one of the most sobering.

Because the same crowd that laid palm branches on the ground and shouted “Hosanna” on Sunday was the same crowd screaming “Crucify Him” by Friday.

Same city. Same people. Same week.

And most people gloss over that like it was just a plot twist in the story. But it wasn’t a plot twist. It was a mirror.

Because that crowd is us.

Let me show you what I mean.

When Jesus rode into Jerusalem on that donkey, the people went wild. They were shouting Hosanna, which in Hebrew means “save us now.” They were waving palm branches, which was a symbol of victory and national triumph. They were laying their garments on the road, which was a sign of royal honor.

They thought their king had arrived.

And He had. Just not the kind of king they wanted.

See, Israel was under Roman occupation. They were oppressed. Taxed. Controlled. Humiliated by a foreign empire. And they had been waiting for a Messiah who would overthrow Rome, restore the kingdom of Israel, and put them back on top.

So when Jesus came riding in and the crowds started chanting “Son of David,” they weren’t worshipping. They were projecting.

They wanted a political deliverer. A military conqueror. A king who would fix their circumstances.

And when Jesus didn’t do that, when He went to the temple and flipped tables instead of flipping the government, the disappointment set in.

By Thursday He was arrested. By Friday the same mouths that shouted “Hosanna” shouted “Crucify Him.”

“But they cried out, Away with him, away with him, crucify him. Pilate saith unto them, Shall I crucify your King? The chief priests answered, We have no king but Caesar.” John 19:15 (KJV)

“We have no king but Caesar.”

The people who called Him king on Sunday chose Caesar by Friday. Not because Jesus changed. Because He didn’t meet their expectations.

The crowd didn’t reject Jesus because He wasn’t the Messiah. They rejected Him because He wasn’t the Messiah they wanted.

And that’s the mirror.

Because we do the same thing.

We come to Jesus shouting Hosanna when life is good. When the prayers are getting answered. When the blessings are flowing. When things are moving in the direction we asked for.

“God is so good! Hosanna!”

But when He doesn’t fix the circumstance? When the prayer goes unanswered? When the relationship doesn’t heal? When the job doesn’t come through? When He moves differently than you expected?

The praise gets quieter. The attendance drops. The Bible stays closed a little longer. And somewhere in the silence, your heart whispers, “I thought You were supposed to save me from this.”

That’s Palm Sunday happening in your life.

You praised Him because you thought He was going to do what you wanted. And when He did what He actually came to do instead, it felt like a letdown.

Palm Sunday wasn’t a celebration of who Jesus was. It was a celebration of who they wanted Him to be. And when the real Jesus showed up, they couldn’t handle it.

Here’s the part that should wreck every one of us.

Jesus knew.

He knew when He rode in that the same voices praising Him would condemn Him in five days. He knew the palms on the ground would be replaced by nails in His hands. He knew the “Hosanna” would become “Crucify.”

And He rode in anyway.

“And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it.” Luke 19:41 (KJV)

He wept. In the middle of the parade. While everyone was cheering. Jesus looked at the city and cried.

Because He could see what they couldn’t. They thought they were welcoming a political hero. He knew He was walking toward a cross.

They were celebrating the wrong thing. And it broke His heart.

Not because they praised Him. Because they praised Him for the wrong reasons. And when those reasons didn’t materialize, their praise would turn to murder.

That’s what happens when your worship is built on expectations instead of identity.

When you worship God for what He does, your worship is conditional. It lasts as long as the blessings last. And the moment the blessings stop matching your plan, the worship stops too.

But when you worship God for who He is, regardless of what He does or doesn’t do, that worship survives the Friday.

Palm Sunday worship says, “Hosanna because You’re giving me what I want.” Gospel worship says, “Hosanna because You’re God even when You don’t.”

Different W’s. Worship versus wishlist.

And here’s the gospel right in the middle of it.

Jesus didn’t come to overthrow Rome. He came to overthrow sin and death.

He didn’t come to fix your government. He came to fix your soul.

He didn’t come to give you a comfortable life. He came to give you eternal life.

And the reason the crowd turned on Him is the same reason people today walk away from faith. They wanted a Savior who serves their agenda. Jesus came with His own.

And His agenda was the cross.

Not because the cross was easy. Because the cross was the only thing that could actually save them.

The political freedom they wanted would have been temporary. Rome would have fallen eventually anyway. But the spiritual freedom Jesus purchased?

“If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” John 8:36 (KJV)

Free indeed. Not temporarily. Not conditionally. Indeed. Completely. Permanently.

The crowd wanted a temporary fix. Jesus came with a permanent one. And they hated Him for it.

That’s the tragedy of Palm Sunday. The people got exactly what they needed. And they rejected it because it wasn’t what they wanted.

So here’s the question for you today.

Are you praising Jesus for who He is? Or are you praising Him for what you hope He’ll do?

Because if your praise depends on the outcome, it’s not worship. It’s a transaction. And we’ve talked about transactional faith. It always collapses when God doesn’t deliver on your terms.

But if your praise can survive the unanswered prayer, the broken expectation, the Friday when it looks like everything fell apart, that’s real worship.

That’s the worship that looks at the cross and says, “Even this. Even here. You are still God. And I still trust You.”

The crowd couldn’t do that. They needed the parade. They needed the victory lap. They needed Jesus to perform before they would praise.

Don’t be the crowd.

Be the one who worships on Friday with the same mouth that worshipped on Sunday. Even when it doesn’t make sense. Even when God’s plan doesn’t look like yours.

Because the cross didn’t look like victory to anyone watching. But it was the greatest victory in human history.

Step 1: Ask yourself honestly, “Is my praise conditional?” Do you worship more when life is going well and less when it isn’t? That’s not a character flaw. That’s human. But recognizing it is the first step toward building worship that doesn’t depend on your circumstances.

Step 2: Don’t say, “God, I’ll praise You when You come through.” Say, “God, I praise You because of who You are. Whether You answer this prayer the way I want or not. You are still good. You are still sovereign. And the cross already proved You love me.”

Step 3: This week, sit with the full story. Not just the parade on Sunday. The silence on Saturday. The agony on Friday. The empty tomb on Sunday morning. Let the whole arc remind you that God’s plan doesn’t always look like a victory parade. Sometimes it looks like a cross. And the cross is where salvation actually happened.

PRAYER:
Father God, I’ve been the crowd. I’ve praised You when things were going my way and gone quiet when they weren’t. I wanted You to be the Savior I designed instead of the Savior You are. Forgive me for treating worship like a transaction. For praising You on Sunday and doubting You by Friday. Today I choose to worship You for who You are. Not for what I hope You’ll do. You are God when the prayers get answered and You are God when they don’t. The cross didn’t look like victory. But it was. Help me trust Your plan even when it doesn’t match mine. And help me be the one still worshipping on Friday, not just waving palms on Sunday. Amen.

Blessings, Pastor Johnny Chang

Mar 28, 2026

Church Attendance Doesn't Mean You Know God
"This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me."
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Matthew 15:8-9, KJV

This might be the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever written.
Not because it’s controversial. Because it’s personal. I was this person.

I was in church every Sunday. Front row. Bible in hand. I knew when to stand. I knew when to sit. I knew when to say amen. I knew the songs before the worship leader started them. I was there. Consistently. Faithfully. Every single week.

And my heart was far from God.

I didn’t know it at the time. That’s the dangerous part. I thought showing up was the same as knowing Him. I thought consistency meant closeness. I thought because I was in the building, I was in the relationship.

But being in a hospital doesn’t make you a doctor. And being in a church doesn’t mean you know God.

Jesus said it Himself. “This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me.”

He was talking about the most religious people in the room. The ones who showed up every time. The ones who knew the Scripture. The ones everyone else looked at and thought, “They’re close to God.”

And Jesus said their heart was far.

That should make every one of us pause.

Attendance is not intimacy. You can be in the same room as God every Sunday and still be a stranger.

And I want to be gentle here because I know some of you are reading this thinking, “But I love going to church. Are you saying that’s wrong?”

No. Not even close.

Church is beautiful. Fellowship is important. Gathering with believers matters. I believe that. I live that. I’m not anti-church. I’m anti-autopilot.

What I’m saying is that showing up can become a substitute for actually engaging. And when it does, you’re going through the motions without going through the transformation.

Think about it like a marriage. You can live in the same house as your spouse. Eat at the same table. Sleep in the same bed. And still be completely disconnected. Proximity is not the same as intimacy. You can be physically close and relationally miles apart.

That’s what happens when church attendance becomes the measure of your faith instead of the overflow of it.

Some of the loneliest believers I’ve ever met are the ones sitting in the pew every week. They’re surrounded by people but known by no one. They sing the songs but don’t feel the words. They hear the sermon but it doesn’t land because their heart checked out years ago.

And they keep coming back. Not because they’re connecting with God. Because they’re afraid of what it means if they stop.

If that’s you, I want you to know something. That’s not your fault. And recognizing it is actually one of the most courageous things you can do.

The scariest moment in faith is not when you walk away from church. It’s when you realize you’ve been sitting in church without ever meeting God there.

So what’s the difference between attendance and intimacy?

Attendance says, “I was in the room.”

Intimacy says, “I met with God.”

Attendance is about the building. Intimacy is about the relationship.

Attendance can be autopilot. Intimacy requires honesty.

“God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”
John 4:24 (KJV)

In spirit and in truth. Not in routine and tradition. Not in habit and obligation. In spirit, meaning from the deepest part of who you are. And in truth, meaning aligned with the Word of God, not just going through the motions.

You can worship God in your car on a Tuesday morning and be closer to Him than someone sitting in the front pew on Sunday. Because worship was never about the location. It was about the heart.

I remember when this shifted for me. I was at church, standing during worship, mouth moving, hands raised. And I realized I was thinking about what I was eating for lunch. My body was there. My heart was somewhere else entirely.

And in that moment I felt God gently press on me. Not with condemnation. With a question. “Are you here with Me or are you just here?”

That wrecked me. Because I had to admit that for a long time, I was just there. Physically present. Spiritually vacant. And nobody around me could tell the difference because I looked the part.

And it didn’t just affect my worship. It affected how I treated people.

Because when you think showing up to church makes you right with God, you start thinking you’re right about everything else too. And that’s exactly where I was.

I would debate anyone. Online. In person. Didn’t matter. If someone had a different interpretation, a different perspective, a different question, I was ready to fight. Not with fists. With Scripture. I’d fire off verses like bullets and walk away feeling like I won.

But I wasn’t winning anything. I was losing people.

I cared more about being right than being relatable. More about winning the argument than winning the soul. And nobody could correct me because in my mind, I was the guy who showed up every Sunday. I was faithful. I was consistent. I was in the Word. So obviously I knew better than whoever was questioning me.

That’s pride wearing church clothes.

And the worst part? I thought it was zeal. I thought the aggression was passion for God. But it wasn’t. It was insecurity. Because when your identity is built on attendance and head knowledge instead of actual intimacy with God, you have to defend it constantly. Any challenge feels like a threat.

People didn’t need me to win arguments. They needed me to love them enough to listen. To hear their heart before I quoted my verse. To gain their trust before I offered my truth.

It’s not about winning arguments. It’s about winning souls. Different W’s.

And you can’t win a soul from a position of arrogance. You can only win a soul from a position of humility. The same humility that says, “I don’t have it all figured out either. But I know someone who does.”

That shift didn’t happen until I realized that my church attendance had given me confidence in the wrong thing. I was confident in my knowledge. I should have been confident in my need for Jesus.

“Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.”
2 Timothy 3:5 (KJV)

A form of godliness. The shape of it. The appearance of it. But denying the power. The actual life-changing, heart-transforming, intimacy-producing power of knowing God personally.

That’s what churchgoing without heart engagement looks like. The form without the power. And when that form makes you feel qualified, you start using knowledge as a weapon instead of a bridge.

So what do you do if you’ve been on autopilot?

You don’t quit church. You wake up inside of it.

You start going with intention. Not to check a box. To meet with God. You show up asking, “God, what do You want to say to me today?” instead of just occupying a seat.

You pursue relationship, not routine. You stop measuring your faith by how many Sundays you attended and start measuring it by how honest you’ve been with God this week.

Because God isn’t counting your attendance. He’s searching your heart (Jeremiah 17:10). And He’d rather have one honest conversation with you in your bedroom than a hundred Sundays where you showed up but never showed Him your heart.

Step 1: The next time you go to church, ask yourself before you walk in, “Am I here to meet with God or am I here out of habit?” There’s no wrong answer. But the honest answer will change how you experience the next hour.

Step 2: Don’t say, “I go to church every week so my faith must be strong.” Say, “Church is where I gather with believers, but my relationship with God is built in the daily moments. In the Word. In prayer. In honest conversation with Him.”

Step 3: This week, try meeting with God outside of church. Not as a replacement. As an addition. Open the Bible at your kitchen table. Pray in your car. Talk to Him while you’re walking. Start building a relationship that doesn’t depend on a building. Because God isn’t confined to a Sunday service. He’s with you right now.

PRAYER:
Father God, I confess that I’ve confused attendance with intimacy. I showed up to the building and thought that meant I was close to You. And I used that attendance to feel qualified when really I was just confident in the wrong thing. I debated people when I should have loved them. I won arguments when I should have been winning souls. That’s not zeal. That’s pride. Today I stop going through the motions. I wake up inside the routine and I start engaging with You for real. Not because I have to. Because I want to know You. Actually know You. Not just be in the room. But be in Your presence. And help me love people the way You love me. With patience. With humility. With a heart that listens before it speaks. Meet me there, Lord. Not just on Sunday. Every day. Amen.

Blessings, Pastor Johnny Chang
Goodmorning

Mar 27, 2026

What Tithing Actually Is (And What It's Not)
"Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give; not grudgingly, or of necessity: for God loveth a cheerful giver."
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2 Corinthians 9:7, KJV

Let’s talk about money.
I know. Nobody wants to hear a pastor talk about money. Because most of the time when a pastor brings up tithing, it sounds like a sales pitch. “Sow a seed. Give your best offering. God can’t bless what you don’t release.”

And after hearing that enough times, you either give out of guilt or you shut down completely.

Neither of those is what God intended.

So let me be real with you about what tithing actually is. And more importantly, what it’s not.

Let’s start with what it’s not.

Tithing is not a transaction. It is not “I give God 10% and He gives me back more.” That’s not faith. That’s an investment strategy. The moment your giving has strings attached, it’s no longer giving. It’s a business deal.

And that mindset didn’t come from the Bible. It came from the prosperity gospel. “Name it and claim it.” “Sow a seed of $100 and watch God multiply it.” That’s not Scripture. That’s manipulation dressed in spiritual language.

I’ve seen people give their last dollar to a church because they were told God would return it tenfold. And when the return didn’t come, their faith collapsed. Not because God failed them. Because someone sold them a transaction and called it worship.

That’s not tithing. That’s exploitation.

Tithing is not a payment plan with God. It’s a response to a God who already paid everything.

Now let me show you what tithing actually is.

Read that verse again. “Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give.”

According as he purposeth. That means it starts in the heart. Not on a spreadsheet. Not from obligation. Not from the guilt of a sermon that made you feel like God wouldn’t bless you unless you opened your wallet.

From the heart.

And then Paul says “not grudgingly, or of necessity.” Grudgingly means resentfully. Necessity means because you feel like you have to. God is literally telling you, “Don’t give if you’re giving out of guilt or obligation. That’s not what I want.”

So what does He want?

A cheerful giver.

The Greek word for “cheerful” here is hilaros. It’s where we get the English word “hilarious.” God wants your giving to come from a place of joy so deep it’s almost laughable. Not because you’re buying a blessing. Because you’re so overwhelmed by what He already gave you that generosity is the only response that makes sense.

When you truly understand the gospel, giving becomes effortless. Not because you’re rich. Because you’re grateful.

I know what it’s like to have nothing. I spent 13 years in prison. I came out with no money, no resume, no prospects. And the first time I gave something to someone after getting out, it wasn’t because a pastor told me to. It was because God had given me something I could never repay. My freedom. My salvation. My life.

How do you hold that and not want to give?

“For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich.”
2 Corinthians 8:9 (KJV)

Jesus gave up everything so you could have everything in Him. That’s the model. Not giving to get. Giving because you already got.

Different G’s.

And here’s the part that shifts everything when you really see it.

You never actually give God anything. Because everything you have is already His.

“The earth is the LORD’S, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.”
Psalm 24:1 (KJV)

Your money is His. Your time is His. Your talent is His. You didn’t earn any of it independently. It was all given to you by a God who gives 100% and asks you to steward a portion of what was always His to begin with.

Think about that. God gives you everything. And then He says, “Now give freely from what I already gave you.” That’s not God taking from you. That’s God teaching you to hold things loosely because none of it was yours in the first place.

And when you see it that way, generosity stops feeling like a sacrifice. It starts feeling like stewardship. You’re not losing something when you give. You’re returning a portion of what was already His and trusting Him to keep providing.

You can’t out-give a God who gave you everything. And you can’t lose what was never yours to keep.

He gives abundantly. He always has. “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” (John 10:10, KJV) That’s who He is. A giver. And when you receive freely from a God who gives freely, giving becomes the most natural thing in the world. Not because you’re generous by nature. Because you’ve been given to by a generous God and the overflow has to go somewhere.

And here’s the part that might surprise you. The New Testament never commands a specific percentage for believers. The 10% tithe was part of the Mosaic law given to Israel. Believers under the new covenant are told to give as they purpose in their heart. Cheerfully. Freely. Not under compulsion.

Does that mean 10% is wrong? No. If that’s what your heart purposes, beautiful. But if you’re giving 10% out of fear that God will curse you if you don’t (and yes, some churches teach that), that’s law. That’s not grace.

Grace gives from overflow. Law gives from obligation.

If your giving feels like a tax, you’re operating under law. If your giving feels like a thank-you note, you’re operating under grace.

So what does healthy, gospel-centered giving look like?

It looks like generosity that flows from gratitude, not guilt. It looks like supporting your local church and community because you want to, not because someone guilted you from a pulpit. It looks like being wise with what God has given you while also holding it loosely, knowing that none of it was ever really yours to begin with.

Step 1: Check your heart before you give. Are you giving because you want to or because you feel like you have to? If it’s obligation, pause. God doesn’t want forced generosity. He wants overflow.

Step 2: Don’t say, “I have to tithe or God won’t bless me.” Say, “I get to give because God already gave me everything through His Son. My giving is a response to grace, not a requirement for it.”

Step 3: If you’ve been hurt by manipulative giving messages in the past, I’m sorry. That wasn’t God. That was people using God’s name to access your wallet. Don’t let that experience shut down your generosity. Let the gospel redefine it. Give from joy. Give from freedom. Give because you’ve been given to.

PRAYER:
Father God, I confess that my relationship with giving has been complicated. Sometimes I gave out of guilt. Sometimes I gave expecting something in return. Sometimes I didn’t give at all because I was hurt by people who used Your name to manipulate. Today I reset. I let the gospel redefine what giving looks like for me. You gave me Your Son. That’s everything. And everything I have was always Yours to begin with. I was never giving You something. I was returning what You already owned. And because of that, I want to be generous. Not to earn something. Because I already received everything. Make me a cheerful giver, Lord. Not grudging. Not obligated. Hilarious with generosity because I’m overwhelmed by what You already did. Amen.

Blessings, Pastor Johnny Chang
Blessings everyone

Mar 26, 2026

I Pray but Nothing Changes
"Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered."
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Romans 8:26, KJV

You’ve been praying about the same thing for months. Maybe years.
Same prayer. Same situation. Same silence. And at some point, you stopped expecting an answer and started going through the motions. You still pray because you know you should. But the faith behind it has gone quiet. You’re talking to God but you’re not sure He’s listening anymore.

A lot of people carry this. They won’t say it in church because it sounds like doubt. But it’s real. “God, I’ve been faithful. I’ve been asking. Why hasn’t anything changed?”

Here’s what shifted it for me. I realized I was treating prayer like a transaction. I was giving God my request and waiting for Him to deliver the product. Like a vending machine. Put in the prayer, get out the answer. And when the answer didn’t come in my timing or in my packaging, I assumed the machine was broken.

But prayer was never a transaction. Prayer is a transfer of dependence. You’re not placing an order. You’re releasing control. The purpose of prayer is not to change your circumstances. The purpose of prayer is to change your posture. From self-reliance to God-reliance. From gripping to surrendering.

Prayer is not you telling God what to do. It’s you telling God that you trust Him with what He’s already doing.

Look at the verse. “We know not what we should pray for as we ought.” Paul is saying we don’t even know what to ask for half the time. But the Spirit intercedes for us. That means even when your prayer feels weak, even when you can’t find the words, the Holy Spirit is translating your groaning into something the Father understands perfectly.

Your prayer is not failing. Your expectations are just misaligned. God is answering, but He’s answering the prayer you need, not always the prayer you want.

Here are two steps on how you can pray without losing hope.

Step 1: Stop measuring prayer by results and start measuring it by dependence. Did you bring it to God? Then the prayer worked. The outcome is His department.

Step 2: Don’t say, “Nothing is changing.” Say, “God is working in ways I can’t see yet, and I trust His timing more than my feelings.”

God never ignores you. Sometimes His silence is the loudest answer. It means, “I heard you. Now trust Me.”

PRAYER:
Father God, I’ve been frustrated with Your silence. I’ve been treating prayer like a transaction and getting disappointed when the results don’t match my request. Change my posture. Help me pray not to get what I want, but to depend on who You are. I trust that Your Spirit is interceding for me even when I can’t find the words. I release the outcome to You. Amen.

Blessings, Pastor Johnny Chang

Today we celebrate the strength, faith, and influence of women. From the beginning of the Bible, we see that women have always had an important role in God’s plan.
The Word of God reminds us in Proverbs 31:25:
“Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.”
A godly woman is clothed with strength—not just physical strength, but spiritual strength. She trusts God in difficult times, stands firm in faith, and continues to move forward even when life is challenging.
Throughout Scripture we see women whom God used in powerful ways:
Esther showed courage and saved her people because she was willing to stand for what was right.
Ruth showed loyalty and faithfulness, and God blessed her life beyond what she could imagine.
Deborah was a leader and judge who guided the nation with wisdom.
These women remind us that God values the faith, courage, and obedience of women.
The Bible also says in Proverbs 31:30:
“Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.”
True beauty is not just what we see on the outside. True beauty is a heart that fears God, trusts Him, and walks in His ways.
So today, to every woman:
Be encouraged. Your prayers matter.
Your faith matters.
Your example matters.
You may be a mother, a sister, a daughter, a leader, or a mentor—but God can use your life to impact generations.
May God continue to strengthen you, guide