Texts: Psalm 119:97–104, 2 Timothy 3:14–4:5, Luke 18:1–8
Opening – What Makes a Person Wise?
Have you ever wondered — what makes a person wise?
When I was younger, I used to think wisdom came automatically with age.
My grandparents seemed to know everything — how to fix what was broken, how to comfort someone in pain, how to live with quiet confidence.
I thought one day I’d just wake up wise too.
Like it was something that came bundled with adulthood — wrinkles and all.
But over the years, I’ve learned it doesn’t quite work that way.
Some people grow older but not necessarily wiser.
And sometimes, wisdom shows up in surprising places — in a child’s question, a friend’s gentle word, or a moment when God whispers truth in the middle of your ordinary day.
So maybe the real question isn’t “How old are you when you become wise?”
Maybe it’s “Where does wisdom come from?”
And right alongside that question is another:
What makes us decide to follow Jesus?
Because those two things — wisdom and discipleship — are deeply connected.
True wisdom always draws us closer to Christ.
Psalm 119 – Loving the Word
Our first scripture today, Psalm 119, is the longest psalm in the Bible — and it’s all about a love for God’s Word.
The psalmist says,
“Oh, how I love your law! It is my meditation all day long.”
And then,
“Your commandment makes me wiser than my enemies.”
For the psalmist, wisdom isn’t about intellect or cleverness.
It’s about orientation.
It’s about having your heart and life turned toward God — toward what is good, what is true, what lasts.
Wisdom, in Scripture, isn’t about knowing everything.
It’s about knowing where to look.
The psalmist finds joy and grounding in God’s Word — because it gives direction.
In a noisy, confusing world, Scripture becomes a compass.
It helps us navigate our decisions, our relationships, our purpose.
And that’s still what most of us are looking for today, isn’t it?
A compass.
Something to steady us when life gets disorienting.
A Personal Story – Enduring the Journey
Now, I want to share something personal with you — a story about endurance.
For almost two years, I’ve been on a health journey.
In that time, I’ve lost 82 pounds and worked out 274 times.
It has been hard.
At some point, I heard a saying that really stuck with me:
“Working out is hard. Being out of shape is hard. Choose your hard.”
And I thought — that’s true. Life’s going to be hard either way.
But as time went on, I realized… it’s more than just choosing your hard.
The deeper question became:
Can I endure?
Can I finish the race?
Because endurance — that steady, daily faithfulness — is where transformation really happens.
There have been so many days I didn’t feel like going to the gym.
Days when it felt like progress had stopped.
Days when it would’ve been easier to quit.
But every time, I had to remind myself:
The choices I’m making now — they’re for my future self.
For the person God is shaping me to become.
And that’s when something shifted spiritually for me.
This isn’t just a health journey — it’s a faithfulness journey.
Every moment of endurance, every “I don’t feel like it, but I’ll do it anyway,” became an act of obedience.
I want to remain faithful — spiritually, mentally, physically, and emotionally.
I don’t know if that makes me wise, but I do think it makes me obedient to Jesus.
Kintsugi – Beauty in the Brokenness
Last week, I had an experience that deepened this idea of endurance and faithfulness in a powerful way. Jenny and I went to the Presbyterian Youth Workers Association conference, we had the opportunity to make Kintsugi art.
Kintsugi is a Japanese art form where broken pottery is repaired not by hiding the cracks, but by filling them with gold. The repaired piece doesn’t try to look like it was never broken — it highlights the cracks, turning them into something beautiful and valuable.
I broke a plate, and piece by piece, I put it back together.
Then, the cracks were filled with “gold dust” and epoxy.
As I worked on it, I couldn’t help but see a metaphor for life and faith.
We aren’t perfect. We break. We stumble. We fail. And that’s okay.
Through God, our brokenness can be restored.
Our cracks can become something beautiful — something that points to God’s faithfulness and our endurance.
Kintsugi shows that our scars aren’t shameful — they are part of our story.
They show wisdom.
They show endurance.
And they show the work of a God who redeems and restores.
2 Timothy 3 – Trained by the Word
That’s exactly what the author was getting at in his letter to Timothy.
He says:
“Continue in what you have learned and firmly believed.”
“All Scripture is inspired by God and useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.”
That word training — that’s endurance language.
The author doesn’t say, “Read Scripture once and you’re done.”
He says it trains us — it shapes us, over time, through repetition, discipline, and grace.
Just like training your body, training your faith takes consistency.
Faith isn’t a one-time decision; it’s a lifelong practice.
It’s a rhythm of returning — again and again — to the One who gives us life.
The author of Timothy warns that a time will come when people will not put up with sound teaching. They’ll chase after what’s easy, what feels good, what confirms what they already think.
But Timothy’s call — and ours — is to stay rooted in the story that formed us.
To hold fast to the truth even when it’s not convenient.
To keep showing up — faithfully — even when the results aren’t instant.
That’s endurance.
That’s obedience.
That’s wisdom.
Luke 18 – The Persistent Widow
Then we come to the Gospel of Luke — and this incredible parable Jesus tells about the persistent widow.
It’s one of my favorite stories because she’s ordinary.
She doesn’t have power, position, or wealth.
What she has is persistence.
She keeps coming back to the judge, day after day, seeking justice.
And finally, the judge gives in — not because he’s righteous, but because she won’t quit.
Jesus says:
“Will not God grant justice to His chosen ones who cry to Him day and night?”
Her persistence isn’t about nagging God into action.
It’s about faith that endures.
It’s about believing — even when the world feels unjust — that God hears, God sees, and God will act.
And then Jesus ends the parable with a haunting question:
“When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on earth?”
It’s as if He’s asking,
“Will He find people who still pray, still hope, still show up, even when it’s hard?”
Because faith — real faith — doesn’t give up after one unanswered prayer.
It keeps knocking.
It keeps trusting.
It endures.
Bringing It Together
So let’s bring these threads together.
Psalm 119 shows us that wisdom begins when we love God’s Word.
2 Timothy teaches that wisdom grows when we are trained by that Word.
Luke shows us what wisdom looks like lived out — persistent faith that endures through every season.
And Kintsugi reminds us that our brokenness doesn’t disqualify us — it can be part of the beauty God is making in our lives.
Wisdom, in God’s kingdom, isn’t about cleverness.
It’s about faithfulness.
It’s about loving what is true.
Holding on when it’s hard.
Allowing God to redeem our cracks and scars.
To be wise is to endure.
To follow Jesus is to trust that what you’re doing today — your prayers, your obedience, your perseverance — is shaping your future self in Christ.
Closing – Choosing Endurance
So I’ll go back to that phrase I heard at the start of my health journey:
“Working out is hard. Being out of shape is hard. Choose your hard.”
Life will give us challenges either way.
But maybe, as followers of Jesus, the invitation isn’t just to “choose your hard.”
Maybe it’s to choose your faithfulness.
To choose to endure.
To choose to stay rooted.
To choose to let God use our cracks and brokenness to make something beautiful.
Because that’s where wisdom grows.
Not in perfection, but in persistence.
Not in hiding our scars but letting God redeem them.
May we be people who love God’s Word,
who are trained by it,
who persist in faith,
and who let God turn our brokenness into gold —
so that when the Son of Man comes,
He will indeed find faith on this earth…
and maybe even in us.
Amen.
