The Sign of Jonah and the House of Your Life Matthew 12:38-50
- Sep 21, 2025
- 4 min read
Part 1: What fills the house?
If you’d open your Bibles with me to Matthew chapter 12, we’re going to continue our journey in Matthew—starting in verse 38.
While you flip there, let me ask it straight: what fills the house of your life? What is the core of who you are? What would you say are the main things living in the “house of you”?
I know one of the main things that lived in my house growing up was Alabama football. It started with my Papa Joe, moved to Alabama as a boy, heard about Bear Bryant, and from that moment on he was a diehard fan. And then it carried into my mom, she’s been known to take a tough loss personally. And I’m not going to lie, it still gives me a rush when the Crimson Tide pulls out one of those close games.
But here’s the point: there are good things that shape us—family values, culture, tradition, even politics. And then there’s the danger: when we intermingle those things with our faith and give them too much of our heart, we start subtly creating idols.
“Teacher, we want to see a sign.”
In Matthew 12, the scribes and Pharisees come to Jesus and say, “Teacher, we want to see a sign from you.” Jesus answers, “No sign will be given except the sign of Jonah,” and He points forward to His burial—three days and three nights in the heart of the earth. Then He says the men of Nineveh will rise up in judgment because they repented at Jonah’s preaching, and “something greater than Jonah is here.”
And then He brings up the Queen of the South—how she traveled to hear Solomon’s wisdom—and He says, “something greater than Solomon is here.”
Here’s what’s happening: when a heart doesn’t want surrender, it will always demand one more sign. It will always move the goalposts, because the issue was never lack of evidence—it was divided loyalty.
A clean house can still be empty
Then Jesus tells a story that gets real uncomfortable, real fast.
He says when an unclean spirit comes out of a person, it wanders, then returns to “my house,” and it finds the house empty—vacant—swept and put in order. Then it brings seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and the last condition becomes worse than the first.
This is why anyone can tidy up their life. Anyone can make the outside look clean. Anyone can rearrange the furniture. Anyone can start routines, start habits, start saying “no” to things.
But Jesus is showing us a terrifying truth: if all you do is clean out the bad, but you never fill the house with Christ, you can end up worse than where you started.
Because Christianity is not just “stop doing bad habits.” Christianity is surrender—where Jesus doesn’t just visit your house, He moves in.
Part 2: Jesus alone—and a new family
Now Matthew closes this section with a moment that’s easy to misunderstand if you read it too fast.
While Jesus is still speaking, His mother and His brothers are standing outside, wanting to talk to Him. Someone tells Him, and Jesus replies, “Who is my mother and who are my brothers?” Then He points to His disciples and says that whoever does the will of His Father is His brother and sister and mother.
Jesus isn’t mocking family—He’s redefining it around allegiance. He’s saying: in the kingdom of God, surrender to the Father becomes thicker than blood.
The idol usually sounds like “Jesus and…”
This is where the sermon gets in our business, because idols rarely show up wearing a sign that says, “Hello, I’m an idol.”
Most of the time, idols show up as “Jesus and…”
Jesus and comfort.
Jesus and politics.
Jesus and consumerism.
Jesus and “I just want to be happy.”
Jesus and whatever makes you feel safe.
And here’s the warning: the moment we elevate anything else to sit beside Jesus as our real hope, that’s no gospel at all.
This is why the Barmen Declaration matters as an example from history. It was produced in 1934 as a statement resisting Nazi influence over the church’s message and loyalty. It says, “Jesus Christ…is the one Word of God which we have to hear and which we have to trust and obey in life and in death,” and it rejects the idea that the church should treat other “events and powers” as God’s revelation alongside Him.
That’s the heartbeat: it’s not Jesus plus something. It’s Jesus alone.
Don’t just clean—fill
So here’s the practical takeaway from Jesus’ “empty house” warning: the goal isn’t merely behavior modification. The goal is new ownership.
If Jesus is Lord, He doesn’t get the “first 15 minutes” or the “last 15 minutes” of your day—He gets the keys to the whole house.
Because when storms come—and they will—what holds you isn’t the fact that your life looked neat. What holds you is who is living inside.
A challenge for the week
The challenge from the sermon was simple: ask God what area of your life you’ve been holding back. Then surrender it.
And then take one concrete step outward—one day a week—where you engage your community, meet someone you don’t already know, and do something that pushes against isolation and division.
Because the world wants us separate. Jesus calls us to live like lights.
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