It’s not mine.

INTRO

Game

Keys

Wallet/purse

Coat

Phone

Left shoe

Ring

Collect it all and have it in your hands.

Have you ever loaned something to someone who forgot it was a loan?

You know what I mean.

You lend them your jacket — next thing you know, it’s showing up in all their selfies.

You lend them your book, and it seems a secure a permanent spot on their bookshelf.

Or you lend them your car, and when you finally get it back… it has all their stuff as if the’ve claimed it.

Possession is an interesting dynamic that is somehow a knee jerk reaction or an inherited idea that we are all familiar with.

It’s the not the owning of things that are necessarily the problem.

Rather, it the human appetite for the need to own.

We see it present in young children.

One child will grab the toy from the other and declare “That’s mine”.

But this appetite doesn’t disappear when we grow up — it just gets dressed up.

Adults don’t fight over toys anymore; we fight over territory. Country lines.

We cling to our titles.

We protect our image.

Our houses, our careers, our platforms.

We scroll through social media — and every swipe whispers the same subtle message: “You need more to be more.”

I have a friend who’s very wealthy — he’s worked hard for his millions.

I remember asking him one day, “What’s your biggest fear?”

What struck me, though, wasn’t just his answer — it was the quiet anxiety behind it.

Here’s a man who has everything most people dream of… and yet his greatest fear is that it could disappear.

He said, “Losing it all.”

I was in a Dunkirk refugee camp when I met this man in his 50s. He had pretty much travelled in any way he possibly could all the way from his home country in Syria. And as put a home cooked meal on his plate we got talking. It soon came to my understanding that the man I was speaking to was once a business owner. Not just a business owner. But once the owner of a 14 story hotel. And in an instant ISIS had bombed the road and his years of investment and hard work crumbled to the ground and here we was, not in a refugee camp, seeking safety and freedom.

We live in a world where you really can lose it all — in a lawsuit, in a market crash, in a medical diagnosis, in one unexpected phone call.

And that’s is the unfortunate curse of ownership — the more you own, there is a silent fear of losing it all.

Possession promises control, but it can breed anxiety.

The tighter you hold it, the heavier it gets.

Maybe that’s why Jesus warns, “Don’t store up treasures on earth.”

Because every earthly treasure comes with that same undertone of fear — rust, decay, thieves, loss.

Possession has become part of our identity.

It’s not just about having things — it’s about being defined by them.

So when something threatens what we think we own — our money, our time, our plans, even our relationships — we panic, because somewhere deep down, we’ve built our security on ownership.

It’s the the whole premise why there is a billion dollar industry in insurance. It is built upon the anxiety of losing it all.

And that’s when we start to see how dangerous this appetite can be.

Because when you start believing everything is yours, you stop recognising anything as God’s.

That’s the tragedy of the human condition — our instinct to possess what was only meant to be entrusted.

Because somewhere between “The earth is the Lord’s” and “My house, my car, my job, my kids, my plans,” we started treating what was borrowed like it was bought.

We live in a world built on ownership.

We measure our worth by what we have — houses, titles, followers, portfolios.

But the gospel doesn’t begin with ownership; it begins with entrustment.

Genesis 1:26 NRSVue

Then God said, “Let us make humans in our image, according to our likeness, and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over the cattle and over all the wild animals of the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.”

Dominion was never permission to possess — it was a call to partner.

The delegation of power is wrapped up in that word dominion.

To be delegated power is to recognise there is always a greater power above you.

That’s the call — to partner with the Owner.

And if you miss that, you’ll spend your whole life clutching things that were never yours to keep.

Jesus puts it another way:

Matthew 6:19 NRSVue

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal,

He’s saying: Be careful what you call yours,

because your heart will always go wherever you park your treasure.

So today my agenda is to talk about freedom.

the freedom that comes when you realise it was never yours to lose in the first place.

Because maybe the reason so many of us are exhausted

is that we’ve been fighting for ownership in places where God only asked us to manage.

MOVEMENT 1 — The Ownership Myth

The first myth we’ve believed is that ownership equals control.

If it’s mine, I control it.

If I bought it, I call the shots.

If I earned it, I decide how it’s used.

That’s the lie our culture baptises us into.

“Take ownership.” “Be your own boss.” “You built that.”

And while there’s beauty in responsibility, the danger is this:

we start confusing management with ownership.

We forget that every breath we take, every beat of the heart, every open door, every bit of ability — was entrusted.

God’s fingerprints are on the very things we think we own.

Genesis 1 says, “Let them have dominion.”

That’s permission to manage, not a licence to monopolise.

Dominion doesn’t mean dominance. It means delegated authority.

You see, from the beginning, God made us trustees, not tycoons.

He gave Adam and Eve a garden, not a deed.

Their role was to nurture it, not name it after themselves.

But sin broke that partnership — and ever since, humanity has been fighting for control of what never belonged to us.

We hoard.

We clutch.

We compete.

And the more we own, the more anxious we become — because ownership always comes with the fear of loss.

That’s why Jesus said, “Don’t store up treasures on earth.”

Because every earthly treasure comes with a warning label: subject to decay, theft, and disappointment.

You can insure it, lock it, but you can’t keep it forever.

Maybe that’s why God built stewardship into discipleship — not because He needs our stuff, but because He’s freeing us from the stuff that tries to own us.

I learnt this, the day that We bought out house and signed the mortgage contract.

Now buying a house is exciting for many reasons. But it really hit when then I saw that I was signing up for all of those numbers in front of the dollar sign. It hit me that I was now locked into a contract where the expectation was for me to come up with the dollars over 30 years. And if i didn’t…

The myth of ownership says, “It’s mine.”

But the truth of the gospel says, “It’s His — and I’m just trusted to care for it.”

MOVEMENT 3 — The Liberating Truth (Landing)

Here’s the liberating truth:

It’s not mine. — and that’s the best news you’ll hear all week.

Because if you don’t own it, you don’t have to sustain it.

You don’t have to control it.

You don’t have to fix it all by yourself.

If God is the Owner, then the weight is on Him to provide, not on you to perform.

When you live like an owner, you carry everything.

When you live like a steward, you carry only what He places in your hands.

That’s why Jesus says:

Matthew 6:19 NRSVue

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal,

He’s not simply talking about your bank account — He’s talking about your trust account.

He’s saying, “Invest your heart where the return never fades.”

Because the problem isn’t that we have things — it’s that our things often have us.

And the gospel is an invitation to live free from that grip.

When I finally realise that it’s all God’s — my job, my home, my family, my body, my time, my abilities — I start living lighter.

I stop clutching. I stop competing.

Because now I’m not comparing myself to anyone else — I’m collaborating with the King.

And that’s where peace begins.

That’s where purpose is rediscovered.

That’s where freedom is found.

The moment I remember that I’m not the owner, I can finally rest like a steward.

And that’s the real miracle of stewardship — it’s not about what God takes from you; it’s about what He frees you from.

He frees you from greed.

He frees you from fear.

He frees you from the exhaustion of trying to hold together what only grace can sustain.

And maybe that’s why Jesus lived the way He did —

owning nothing, yet lacking nothing.

He borrowed a manger to be born in, a boat to preach from, a donkey to ride, a room to dine, and a tomb to rest in.

Everything He touched was borrowed — and yet everything He gave was eternal.

Because when you know it’s all God’s, you can pour it out freely.

So maybe the invitation today is simple:

Open your hands.

Loosen your grip.

Return the borrowed things to their rightful place.

Because everything you thought you had to protect — your reputation, your possessions, your plans — were never really yours in the first place.

You can’t lose what you were never meant to own.

And when you live like that — open-handed, kingdom-minded, surrendered — you discover what Jesus really desired for us.

That’s the paradox of the gospel:

When you give up ownership, you gain everything that matters.

Because freedom doesn’t come from having more —

it comes from remembering who it all belongs to.

The “Borrowed Wallet” Illustration

Setup:

Ask for two volunteers — one you know (for trust) and one you don’t.

Take the first volunteer’s wallet or phone and hand it to the second volunteer.

Then say:

“Now, I want you to hold it carefully. It’s not yours — but treat it as if it were.”

Then turn to the owner and ask:

“How do you feel right now, watching someone else hold what’s yours?”

(Let them respond — usually a mix of nervous laughter and mild discomfort.)

Then turn back to the audience:

“That’s what ownership feels like. You’re constantly anxious about who might touch what’s yours, move what’s yours, or take what’s yours.

But stewardship feels different — because when you realise it all belongs to God, you can trust that the Owner is watching over what He’s entrusted to you.”

Then hand the wallet back and say:

“This is how we live our lives. God hands us something valuable — time, people, resources — and says, ‘Hold it carefully, but remember, it’s Mine.’

The moment we forget that, anxiety takes over. But the moment we remember who the true Owner is — peace returns.”