The Architecture of Obedience: Text: Luke 6:46-49
Introduction: The Great Disconnect
We live in an age of cheap talk. Our entire culture is built on a mountain of good intentions, pious sentiments, and solemn declarations that have absolutely no connection to the way we actually live. People say they value family while the family disintegrates. They say they value truth while living by lies. And nowhere is this disconnect more prevalent, and more spiritually lethal, than in the modern evangelical church. We have mastered the art of the verbal assent. We are fluent in the language of Zion. We know how to say 'Lord, Lord' with all the right inflections. We can sing the worship songs, raise our hands, and talk a good game about being followers of Jesus. But Jesus, in this passage, cuts right through the fog of our religious chatter with a question that is as sharp as a surgeon's scalpel.
He asks a question that every single one of us must face. It is not a gentle suggestion. It is a direct, confrontational, and deeply personal challenge. "Why do you call Me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say?" This is the great audit of our faith. Jesus is not interested in our bumper stickers, our t-shirts, or the "Christian" label we slap on our social media profiles. He is interested in our foundations. He wants to know what our house is built on. Because a storm is coming for every single house. The flood is a guaranteed part of the forecast. The only question is whether your house will be left standing or whether it will be a pile of wreckage.
This parable is not about two different kinds of storms. The flood hits both houses with equal, indiscriminate fury. This is not a promise that if you follow Jesus, you will have a life of ease and comfort. No, the rain falls on the just and the unjust. The difference is not in the circumstances, but in the construction. The difference is in the foundation. One man heard the words of Jesus and obeyed them. The other man heard the very same words and did nothing. One was a disciple; the other was an auditor. One was a son; the other was a fan. And the storm reveals the difference with terrifying clarity.
So as we come to this text, we must not read it as a quaint story about construction techniques. This is a matter of eternal life and death. Jesus is forcing us to examine the structural integrity of our own profession of faith. Is our claim to follow Him backed up by the concrete and rebar of obedience, or is it a hollow facade built on the shifting sands of mere sentiment?
The Text
"Now why do you call Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? Everyone who comes to Me and hears My words and does them, I will show you whom he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug and went deep, and laid a foundation on the rock; and when a flood occurred, the river burst against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built. But the one who heard and did not do accordingly, is like a man who built a house on the ground without any foundation; and the river burst against it and immediately it collapsed, and the ruin of that house was great.”
(Luke 6:46-49 LSB)
The Lordship Question (v. 46)
Jesus begins with a piercing question that exposes the core hypocrisy of a certain kind of religion.
"Now why do you call Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?" (Luke 6:46)
Notice the double invocation: 'Lord, Lord.' This isn't the address of someone who is unsure. This is emphatic. This is the language of worship, of professed allegiance. This is the man who sings the loudest on Sunday morning. This is the person who knows all the right theological terms. But Jesus says this profession is fraudulent. It is a hot check. To call Him 'Lord' is to declare Him Master, Ruler, Sovereign. The word 'Lord' (Kurios) implies absolute authority. It means He has the right to command, and we have the duty to obey.
To call Him Lord and then to disobey His commands is a flat contradiction. It is to speak out of both sides of your mouth. It is like a soldier saluting his commanding officer and then promptly turning around and walking in the opposite direction of the order just given. Such a soldier would be court-martialed. In the spiritual realm, the consequences are far graver. Jesus is saying that your life is the ultimate arbiter of your theology. Your actions are the fine print on your statement of faith. If your actions contradict your confession, then your confession is a lie.
This demolishes the cheap grace gospel that has infected so much of modern Christianity. This is the idea that you can accept Jesus as your 'Savior' but put off the decision to make Him 'Lord' until some later, more convenient time. That is a damnable heresy. You cannot bifurcate Jesus. He does not offer a two-tiered plan. He is Lord. That is who He is. To receive Him at all is to receive Him as Lord. Faith that does not result in obedience is not saving faith; it is dead faith. As James, the Lord's brother, puts it so bluntly, "faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead" (James 2:17). Jesus here is making the very same point. Your verbal profession of 'Lord, Lord' is meaningless if it is not authenticated by a life of 'Yes, Lord.'
The Wise Architect (v. 47-48)
Jesus then provides the positive example. He shows us what genuine faith looks like in practice.
"Everyone who comes to Me and hears My words and does them, I will show you whom he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug and went deep, and laid a foundation on the rock; and when a flood occurred, the river burst against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built." (Luke 6:47-48 LSB)
The process of true discipleship has three steps here. First, you must come to Him. This is the initial act of faith, turning from your own autonomy and coming to Christ. Second, you must hear His words. This is the ongoing discipline of sitting under His teaching, reading His word, and learning His commands. But the crucial, distinguishing step is the third one: you must do them. The hearing is not the end goal. The hearing is the necessary prerequisite for the doing.
This doing is described as hard work. The wise man "dug and went deep." This is not a casual or superficial effort. Laying a solid foundation requires effort, foresight, and a willingness to do the hard, unseen work. Digging is not glamorous. It's sweaty, dirty work. It means dealing with the hard realities of your own sin. It means aligning your life with Scripture when it's inconvenient, when it's unpopular, when it costs you something. It means building your marriage on God's blueprint, not Hollywood's. It means handling your money according to biblical principles, not the world's greed. It means forgiving those who have wronged you, even when you don't feel like it. This is the digging.
And what is the rock? The rock is Christ Himself and His authoritative words. He is the bedrock of reality. To build on Him is to build on that which cannot be shaken. The result is stability. When the flood comes, and it will come, the house stands firm. The "flood" represents any and every kind of trial: persecution, financial hardship, sickness, death, and ultimately, the final judgment. The man whose life is built on active obedience to Christ will be able to withstand the fiercest storms life can throw at him. His faith is not a fair-weather faith. It has been tested, and it holds.
The Foolish Contractor (v. 49)
The contrast could not be more stark. The foolish man is not distinguished by the storm he faces, but by the foundation he neglects.
"But the one who heard and did not do accordingly, is like a man who built a house on the ground without any foundation; and the river burst against it and immediately it collapsed, and the ruin of that house was great." (Luke 6:49 LSB)
Notice what the foolish man has in common with the wise man. He also heard the words of Jesus. He sat in the same sermon. He heard the same commands. He might have even taken notes. He might have been emotionally moved. He might have said "Amen." The difference was in the application. He heard, but he "did not do accordingly." His religion was purely academic. It was all input and no output.
He built his house on the ground, on the sand. This is the easy way. It requires no digging, no sweat, no deep work. It looks good on the surface, at least for a while. This is the man who builds his life on emotional experiences, on popular opinion, on personal convenience, on the traditions of men. His house goes up quickly. It might even look impressive. But it has no foundation. It is a house of cards.
And when the storm hits, the collapse is not gradual. It is immediate. And the ruin is not minor. It is "great." This is a picture of catastrophic, total failure. This is not about losing some shingles; this is about the entire structure being washed away, leaving nothing behind. This is a terrifying picture of the man who gets to the final judgment, presents his credentials of "Lord, Lord," and hears Jesus say, "I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness" (Matthew 7:23). His entire religious life was a sham, and the judgment reveals it in an instant.
Conclusion: Check Your Footings
So the parable leaves us with a choice. There are only two kinds of builders. There is no middle ground. You are either the wise man or the foolish man. You are either building on the rock of obedience to Christ, or you are building on the sand of religious pretense.
How do you know which one you are? You must answer the Lord's question. Do you do what He says? Not perfectly, of course. The wise builder is not a sinless man. He is a repentant man. When he fails, he confesses it, gets back up, and continues to build. The difference is the trajectory of his life. Is your life characterized by a genuine, heartfelt, active desire to obey the commands of Jesus Christ? Do you take His words seriously? When you read the Sermon on the Mount, is your first instinct to find a way to explain it away, or is it to ask God for the grace to live it out?
This is intensely practical. It means that our faith is not a private, ethereal thing. It is something that must be built, with sweat and callouses. It is constructed through daily choices of obedience. Every time you choose to speak truth instead of a convenient lie, you are laying a stone on the foundation. Every time you choose to forgive instead of nursing a grudge, you are mixing mortar. Every time you choose sexual purity over lust, you are digging deeper into the rock.
The good news of the gospel is not that Jesus gives us a pass on the hard work of building. The good news is that He is both the foundation and the master builder. By grace through faith, He unites us to Himself, the true Rock. He gives us His Holy Spirit to empower us for obedience. He gives us His Word as the blueprint. Our works of obedience do not save us, but they are the necessary and inevitable evidence that we have been saved. They are the proof that our house is truly being built on the only foundation that will last.
So do not be the man who hears this sermon and walks away unchanged. Do not be the foolish builder. Go home and start digging. Find one area of your life where you know you are not obeying the words of Christ, and by His grace, repent and begin to build. The storm is coming. Build accordingly.