One of You
A Reflection on Matthew 26:20–25

Have you ever been betrayed?
Sometimes the greatest betrayals do not come from enemies—they come from people who were close to us.
We live in a time where trust feels fragile. People have been let down—by friends, by family, even by people they thought were walking with God. People who shared meals with us. People who sat at our tables. People we trusted.
Maybe you have experienced something like that in life. A friendship that broke. A business partner who turned against you. A family member who wounded you deeply, or maybe a love interest.
Those moments stay with us because betrayal from a distance hurts—but betrayal from someone close… that cuts much deeper.
And that is the kind of moment we are stepping into in this passage.
Jesus is sitting at a table with His closest followers—the twelve men who traveled with Him, ate with Him, learned from Him. And in the middle of that meal, Jesus says something that shocks the room:
“One of you will betray me.”
This passage confronts us with a sobering truth:
Sitting at the table with Jesus is not the same thing as belonging to Jesus.

At the Table

Matthew writes:

“When it was evening, he reclined at table with the twelve.”
(Matt 26:20, ESV)

In the Greco-Roman world, formal meals were often eaten while reclining at the table. Here, Jesus and His twelve disciples are gathered to celebrate the Passover—the meal where Israel remembered how God delivered them from slavery in Egypt. Each year they retold that story of the lamb whose blood saved them and the night God passed over their homes.
But on this night—something greater is unfolding.
At this Passover table sits the true Passover Lamb. And before the night is over, Jesus Himself will be handed over so that an even greater deliverance can take place.
This is an innermost moment. These were the men who had followed Jesus closely. And as they were eating, he said:

“Truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me.”
(Matt 26:21, ESV)

Whenever Jesus uses the word “Truly,” it’s best His followers listen up, because truth is being spoken. And while the disciples may have been thinking about something ordinary, Jesus lays out this hard reality: betrayal is coming—from within the group.
It’s like your Uncle Frank who, during your family’s annual celebration, announces that someone in the room has emptied out everyone’s bank account. Betrayal. And this occurs during a sacred moment.
And even here—Jesus is not losing control. He knows exactly what is unfolding. This is happening within God’s plan of redemption.

The Question That Matters

Matthew continues:

“And they were very sorrowful and began to say to him one after another, ‘Is it I, Lord?’”
(Matt 26:22, ESV)

Imagine the room.
Silence.
Then one voice: “Is it I, Lord?”
Then another.
And another.
One by one, the question moves around the table.
Every disciple searches his own heart.
The most spiritually dangerous place is not asking, “Is it I?”
It’s assuming, “It could never be me.”
Notice something important: no one says, “I bet it’s Judas.”
Every one of them looks inward.
That is what real discipleship looks like. Before we accuse others, we examine our own hearts.
This moment reveals something about how fragile human faithfulness can be. And the disciples recognize that.
Their question shows humility—but also uncertainty about their own hearts.

Betrayal in Fellowship

Jesus answers:

“He who has dipped his hand in the dish with me will betray me.”
(Matt 26:23, ESV)

Sharing the same dish is a sign of deep fellowship and trust.
In the ancient world, to eat together was to declare peace. That is why betrayal at a meal was considered especially appalling.
The one who shares the meal…
The one who participates in this sacred moment…
That is the one who betrays Jesus.
The irony is unmistakable.

God’s Plan and Human Responsibility

Jesus continues:

“The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that man if he had not been born.”
(Matt 26:24, ESV)

Hard words—for a hard truth.
But notice the beginning: “as it is written.”
God had already spoken about the suffering of the Messiah. What is unfolding here is not an accident. The cross is not a surprise. God’s plan of redemption is moving forward exactly as Scripture said it would.
Even in betrayal, God is accomplishing redemption.
And yet, Judas is still responsible.
Matthew holds both realities together:
Divine destiny—and human responsibility.
Two tracks running in the same direction.
“Woe to that man.”
The weight of this moment is real.

Rabbi or Lord?

Then comes Judas:

“Judas, who would betray him, answered, ‘Is it I, Rabbi?’ He said to him, ‘You have said so.’”
(Matt 26:25, ESV)

Notice the difference.
The other disciples say, “Lord.”
Judas says, “Rabbi.”

That difference matters.
A teacher can be respected.
A teacher can be admired.
But Lord means authority.
Lord means surrender.
Judas is willing to sit at the table with Jesus—but he is not willing to submit his life to Him.
Judas calling Jesus “Rabbi” wasn’t an insult—it was a title of respect. But it was also a title of distance. He kept Jesus as a subject expert, rather than a sovereign Lord.
Participation—even deep respect—is not the same as devotion.

A Warning for Today

Right now, it is easier than ever to appear close to Jesus without actually surrendering to Him.
You attend church.
You serve.
You participate.
You engage with Christian content.
All of those things can be good.
But they are not the same as surrender.
Judas looked the part.
He walked with Jesus.
He sat at the table.
And still—he never surrendered.
These ancient passages still speak directly to us:
Closeness to Jesus externally does not guarantee faithfulness internally.

A Personal Reflection
We can do all the right things… and still miss what matters most—apart from surrender to Jesus.
Judas spent three years with Jesus and still never surrendered to Him.

And that brings us to a question that cannot wait:

Is Jesus your rabbi…
or is Jesus your Lord?

Picture that table again.
Jesus.
The twelve.
The bread.
The shared dish.
The quiet room.

And the question moving from one voice to another:
“Is it I, Lord?”

Every disciple asks it.
Except one.

Judas asks a different question:
“Is it I—Rabbi?”

And that difference changes everything.
Because a rabbi can be admired.
But a Lord must be followed.
In a world where trust is fragile…
Where it is easy to look faithful without being faithful…
Where we are more comfortable learning from Jesus than surrendering to Him…
This is not a new question.
But it is one most people never truly answer.

So here it is—the question that confronts every one of us today:

Is Jesus your rabbi…
or is Jesus your Lord?

Amen.

When It Gets Personal
A Reflection on John 4:16–26

Most of us don’t mind talking about faith—until it starts getting personal.
When a hard truth comes close to home, it’s amazing how quickly we can shift the conversation. We ask a different question. We bring up theology. We focus on something safer.
It’s often easier to talk about religion than to let God speak honestly about our hearts.
In today’s passage, Jesus brings a difficult truth into the open. And instead of walking away, he leads the conversation somewhere deeper.
So the real question is: What happens when Jesus gets personal with us?
Let’s listen to how this unfolds.

A Truth Spoken Plainly

Jesus is on his way to Galilee. His disciples are elsewhere when he stops at a well and begins a conversation with a Samaritan woman—someone doubly marginalized in that culture: a woman in a patriarchal society and a Samaritan among Jews who typically avoided them.

Then Jesus says:

“Go, call your husband, and come here.”
The woman answered him, “I have no husband.”
Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband. What you have said is true.”
(John 4:16–18, ESV)

Have you ever known someone who speaks without a filter? Maybe that person is you.
Imagine being this woman. No crowd. No distraction. Just her and Jesus. And suddenly the part of her life she has quietly managed is spoken out loud.
That is not just information. That is exposure.
And exposure is uncomfortable.
Most of us are fine talking about our strengths, our successes, even our spiritual opinions. But when something tender or broken is named, the instinct is to protect ourselves. That silence between these verses must have felt very long.
If I am honest, my default reaction would likely be defensive. It would probably begin with, “Yeah, but…”
Who here likes being wrong? Who enjoys having it pointed out?

The Pivot to Something Safer

Another common avoidance technique is misdirection.
When something uncomfortable is exposed, we change the subject.

That is exactly what happens next:

“The woman said to him, ‘Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet. Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you say that in Jerusalem is the place where people ought to worship.’”
(John 4:19–20, ESV)

Instead of staying with what Jesus just said, she pivots to theology.
And if we are honest, we can relate.
When Scripture presses into something personal, we suddenly become very interested in safer issues. We debate worship styles. We argue interpretations. We compare traditions. We focus on preferences.
Religion can become a shield that keeps God at a comfortable distance.
When confronted with uncomfortable truths, we often hide behind religious discussion rather than respond with honest worship.
“Yeah—but…”
In 2026, with constant access to news and social media, we see this all the time. A passage convicts us—or someone else—and instead of examining behavior, the conversation shifts into debate.
This ancient woman’s response is not ancient at all. It is very modern.

Jesus Redefines Worship

Jesus responds:

“Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.”
(John 4:21–24, ESV)

Jesus says, “the hour is coming… and is now here.”
Worship will not be about this mountain or that city.
And here is what this passage is not about:
It is not about being honest enough.
It is not about worshipping better.
It is not about fixing your life.
When Jesus exposes this woman’s truth, he is not being cruel. There is purpose in it.
Jesus knows her fully. And he knows us fully.
He speaks plainly—but gently and graciously.
True worship is not about location. It is about relationship.
When Jesus says worship must be in spirit and truth, he is not reducing worship to emotion, nor to information. He is describing relationship—relationship with God revealed in himself.
Worship flows from a heart awakened by the Spirit and shaped by who God truly is.
It is not about the right mountain.
It is not about winning the right argument.
It is about responding honestly to the God who has revealed himself.
That shifts everything from performance to relationship.

The Messiah Revealed in the Middle of Exposure

The woman says:

“I know that Messiah is coming (he who is called Christ). When he comes, he will tell us all things.”
Jesus said to her, “I who speak to you am he.”
(John 4:25–26, ESV)

Notice where this happens.
Not in Jerusalem.
Not in the temple courts.
Not in front of religious leaders.
After exposure.
After deflection.
After redefining worship.
The One who knows her history is the One who reveals himself as Messiah.
The Messiah is not revealed in spite of her past—but right in the middle of it.
That tells us something about grace.
True worship is relationship with Jesus.
And relationship requires honesty—not explanations, not excuses, not distraction.
The One who says, “I who speak to you am he,” is the One we come to. The One who knows us fully. The One who reveals God to us.

Why We Come

Why do you come to church?
There are many possible reasons. But at the core, we come because we need Jesus.
We come to respond honestly to him in worship.
That does not require a mountain.
It does not require Jerusalem.
It requires honesty.
Some avoid relationship with God because they feel judged. Some avoid church for the same reason. And yes, sometimes that feeling has come from flawed human beings—and I am sorry for that.
But today we are talking about conviction that comes from God—from his Word, from his Spirit, from truth brought into the light.
Jesus exposes sin not to shame us—but to lead us into true worship rooted in Spirit and truth.
Jesus… Messiah… saves us. That is what his name means. And that is what he does.

The Meat and Potatoes

At the beginning, we said it is often easier to talk about religion than to let God speak honestly about our hearts.
Maybe that is still true for us.
Maybe it is easier to debate worship than to let Jesus name what is really going on inside.
But here it is:
Jesus does not expose us to embarrass us.
He brings truth into the light so he can lead us somewhere better—into real worship centered on who he is.
So when Jesus gets personal—and you feel it deep in your soul—you do not have to change the subject.
You can step into the light.
Because the One who knows you fully is the same One who invites you to worship him in spirit and in truth.
And that is good news.
Amen.
Stay in the Word daily, it will save your life.

Faithful Under Pressure
A Reflection on Matthew 4:1–11

Sometimes the most important moments of faith don’t happen when life is calm, but when the pressure is on and we’re tempted to take the easy way out.
Most of the time, we don’t stop trusting God when life is easy. It usually happens when things get tight—when the need is real, the pressure is on, and we don’t see many good options. That’s when shortcuts start to sound reasonable. That’s when taking matters into our own hands feels like the smartest move.
In those moments, the question isn’t usually, “Do I believe in God?”
It’s more like, “Do I trust God enough to wait… or do I need to fix this myself?”
Matthew 4 drops us right into one of those moments.

Led Into Pressure

Matthew writes,
“Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. And after fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry.”
(Matt 4:1–2, ESV)

Those words matter: led by the Spirit.
Jesus is not in the wilderness because he disobeyed the Father. He is there because he trusted Him. This moment of temptation is not outside God’s will—it is inside it. The Spirit leads Jesus into real weakness, real hunger, real vulnerability.
Pressure does not mean God has stepped away. Sometimes it means God is at work.
We often assume that if life gets hard, something must be wrong—either with us or with God. But Jesus’ story tells us otherwise.
Faithfulness does not spare us from pressure. In fact, sometimes obedience places us directly in it.
The wilderness is not where Jesus loses his identity—it’s where he lives it out in faithful trust.

First Temptation: Shortcuts to Provision

Matthew continues,
“And the tempter came and said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.’ But he answered, ‘It is written, “‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”
(Matt 4:3–4, ESV)

The temptation is clever.
Jesus is legitimately hungry. Turning stones to bread would solve a real need. Hunger itself is not sin. But the issue is not bread—it is trust.
The shortcut would bypass dependence on the Father.
Instead, Jesus quotes Scripture. He refuses to take control for himself and chooses reliance on God’s Word.
When I trained overnight with the prison’s version of SWAT, the hardest part always hit around 4 a.m. We were tired. Hungry. Worn down. And that’s when training intensified.
Do you think we were at our best at 4 a.m.? Not even close.
In those moments, shortcuts were tempting. But shortcuts compromise discipline.
Jesus faces temptation in his weakest physical state—and chooses trust.
We don’t trust this way to earn God’s approval. We trust because Jesus has already been faithful in our place.

Second Temptation: Testing Instead of Trusting

Matthew writes,
“Then the devil took him to the holy city and set him on the pinnacle of the temple and said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, for it is written, “‘He will command his angels concerning you,’” and “‘On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.’” Jesus said to him, ‘Again it is written, “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.”’”
(Matt 4:5–7, ESV)

The strategy shifts.
Now the devil quotes Scripture—but applies it wrongly.
If Jesus jumps, he would be testing God instead of trusting God.
How often do we see Scripture quoted to fit someone’s narrative? How often do we demand outcomes from God?
“God, do this, and then I will trust you.”
That is not faith. That is testing.
Again, Jesus responds with Scripture rightly understood. Faithful trust rests in God’s character without demanding immediate evidence.

Third Temptation: Power Without the Cross

Matthew continues,
“Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. And he said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.’ Then Jesus said to him, ‘Be gone, Satan! For it is written, “‘You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.’”
(Matt 4:8–10, ESV)

This is the big swing.
Power. Authority. Glory.
All without the cross.
The offer is success without suffering. Kingship without obedience. Victory without sacrifice.
Who doesn’t want the shortest route? The quickest fix? The easier path?
We live under constant pressure to succeed and control outcomes. But when we seek control apart from God, we become enslaved to everything but Him.

Jesus refuses the shortcut.
“You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.”
(Matt 4:10, ESV)

True trust refuses shortcuts—even when success seems guaranteed.
Obedience Before Relief
Finally,
“Then the devil left him, and behold, angels came and were ministering to him.”
(Matt 4:11, ESV)

Notice the order.
Obedience first. Relief later.
God responds in His time.
We prefer the opposite. We want provision first, obedience later. We want comfort before faithfulness.
But Jesus walks the path of obedience before relief.

Why This Is Good News
Temptation is real. Pressure is real. Life is hard.
We look for shortcuts. We crave power. We want control.
That is precisely why we need Jesus.
He succeeds where we fail.
As the Son: At his baptism, the Father declared Jesus the beloved Son. The devil attacks that identity—“If you are the Son of God…” But Jesus shows what faithful Sonship looks like: total dependence.
As a human: Hungry. Vulnerable. Quoting from Israel’s wilderness failures. Jesus succeeds as the faithful human—the true Israel, the second Adam.
If Jesus resisted temptation only as God, his victory would inspire us but remain unreachable.
If he resisted only as a human example, the burden would fall back on us—“just try harder.”
Matthew shows us both.
Jesus’ obedience counts for us.
This passage is gospel before it is instruction.
We do not say, “Be like Jesus so God will accept you.”
We say, “Because Jesus was faithful in your place, you are accepted—now live in trust.”



When pressure tempts you toward shortcuts, name it.
Where are you tempted to take control?
Where are you demanding quick results?
Where are you leaning toward self-reliance instead of trust?
Life is hard.
Rely on yourself—and stay stuck in the muck.
Trust God—and through Jesus, move forward.
When pressure tempts us toward shortcuts or self-reliance, Jesus shows us that faithful trust in the Father is the true path forward—and he walks that path ahead of us.
Stay in the Word daily, it will save your life. 

The Power We Didn’t Expect


A Simple Line with a Serious Purpose

How often do you pay attention to the dashed centerline on the interstate?
One time my family was traveling with my oldest daughter and her husband when someone brought up the length of one dash of the center line on the highway. Do you know the answer? Unbelievably, one dash is ten feet long. And yes, I did pull over to check one out.
That centerline serves a purpose. It separates one side of the road from the other, and we use caution when we cross it because it often marks a division in the flow of traffic.
Division is exactly what the apostle Paul is addressing in today’s passage.

A Church Divided—and a Gospel Recentered

Paul is writing to a divided church in Corinth. You may have seen those memes that say, “If Paul were around today, we’d be getting a letter.” This is one of those letters the memes are talking about.
Believers were aligning themselves with:

• leaders
• social status
• education
• verbal skill

All of it was causing division in this young church.
Beneath the surface disagreements was a deeper problem: people were evaluating the gospel using the world’s standards of wisdom, power, and honor.
So Paul recenters everything on the cross.
“For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”¹

The Cross as the True Dividing Line

Here, the dividing line is not ten feet of paint on a highway—it is the cross.

• On one side: folly
• On the other: the power of God

Paul speaks of “those who are perishing” and “those who are being saved.” Notice the present tense. He is not only talking about a distant future outcome, but about ongoing paths shaped by how people respond to God’s revelation.
On one side of the cross are those who judge God by human logic.
On the other are those who submit to God’s self-disclosure.
And if we are honest, many of us struggle with that submission. We want all the information now, on our timeline—not God’s. We often assume we know best.

When Human Wisdom Reaches Its Limit

Paul quotes the prophet Isaiah:
“I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,
and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.”²
Isaiah spoke these words to confront human pride—an echo heard in Job and in our own lives whenever we assume we have all the answers.
Paul continues:
“Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?”³
Here is a difficult but necessary question for honest self-reflection:
How often do we operate as though we can make ourselves right with God through our own wisdom, credentials, or effort?
These rhetorical questions expose the inability of even the most impressive human systems to produce salvation.

Christ Crucified: Offense and Power

Corinth was known for award-winning rhetoric, philosophy, and debate. Think of popular media personalities, influential commentators, or the know-it-all voice on social media.
Paul undercuts all of it.
“For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe.”⁴
The Jews sought signs.
The Greeks sought wisdom.
That sounds familiar.
We search for credentials, certainty, voices to follow, and systems to trust. But Paul says:
“But we preach Christ crucified.”⁵
To many Jews, the cross was a stumbling block.
To Gentiles, it was embarrassing by worldly standards.
When people operate from a purely worldly perspective, the cross offends pride—because God saves in a way that prevents any group from claiming superiority.
Superiority belongs to God alone.
“But to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.”⁶
God issues his call through the message of the cross—but not everyone receives it as God’s wisdom and power.

God’s Call and God’s Grace

Think about a birthday party invitation from childhood. You could respond—or ignore it.
God’s call, however, is not passive background noise. It is like a ringing phone. To receive what is on the other end, we must answer.
For some, the same cross that reveals God’s wisdom repels others. What looks like weakness is actually divine victory.
The cross does not need defending—it redefines reality.

Grace That Ends Boasting

Paul then turns directly to the Corinthians:
“For consider your calling, brothers.”⁷
God chooses what the world considers:

• foolish
• weak
• low
• despised

This is intentional.
Salvation is not a reward for merit. Grace dismantles boasting. God’s kingdom exposes the illusion of human status.
“And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption.”⁸
These are not achievements we earn.
They are gifts we receive in Christ.
Paul concludes by quoting Jeremiah:
“Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”⁹
Everything we lack, God supplies in Jesus.

Where We Look for Answers

In a world overflowing with voices and opinions, it is easy to believe we can be experts in everything.
Paul reminds us that the message of the cross cancels every human system of wisdom, power, and status.
What the world dismisses as foolish, God uses as the means of rescue. By choosing the lowly and supplying everything in Christ, God ensures that no one may boast—except in the Lord.
When you are searching for answers in an often-broken world, remember: everything we need is found in God.

Stay in the Word daily, it will save your life.

Scripture References (ESV)

1. 1 Cor 1:18
2. Isa 29:14; cited in 1 Cor 1:19
3. 1 Cor 1:20
4. 1 Cor 1:21
5. 1 Cor 1:23
6. 1 Cor 1:24–25
7. 1 Cor 1:26
8. 1 Cor 1:30
9. Jer 9:23–24; cited in 1 Cor 1:31

When Jesus Gets in Line
A Reflection on Matthew 3:13–17

Some people are pretty comfortable when we know our place.
We know when we’re in charge.
We know when we’re learning.
And we usually know when we should probably stay out of the way.
Problems tend to arise when those lines blur—when someone steps into a role that doesn’t seem to fit, or when expectations don’t line up with reality.
Have you ever had a moment when you thought, This doesn’t feel right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go?
That tension—between expectation and reality—is right at the heart of Matthew 3:13–17. John the Baptist is doing exactly what God has called him to do, baptizing repentant sinners in the Jordan River, when Jesus shows up and completely unsettles him. John expects sinners to step into the water. What he does not expect is Jesus getting in line with them.
And yet, that confusing, uncomfortable, unexpected moment is where Jesus chooses to begin his public ministry.

Jesus Comes on Purpose

Matthew writes,
“Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him.”
(Matt 3:13, ESV)

Depending on where Jesus began his journey in Galilee, he traveled anywhere from ten to eighty miles—on foot. This was not an accident or a convenience. Jesus came intentionally. He came to John. And he came to be baptized by John.
That detail matters.
John did not baptize Jesus because he was worthy of the honor. Jesus submitted himself to John’s ministry because obedience to the Father mattered more than appearances.

When the Moment Feels Out of Place

As Jesus approaches,
“John would have prevented him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’”
(Matt 3:14, ESV)
John knows what his baptism represents. It is a baptism of repentance. And Jesus—sinless, obedient, righteous—does not fit the profile. John recognizes Jesus’ superiority and is understandably confused.
Why would the sinless One submit to a baptism meant for sinners?

Jesus answers,
“Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.”
(Matt 3:15, ESV)
Jesus is not confessing sin. He is committing himself fully to God’s redemptive plan. To “fulfill all righteousness” is to walk in complete, faithful obedience to the Father’s will. Jesus identifies himself with sinful Israel—with us—not because he shares our guilt, but because he comes to carry it.
From the very beginning of his ministry, Jesus does not distance himself from sinners. He stands among them.

Obedience Before Approval

After Jesus is baptized, Matthew tells us,
“And when Jesus was baptized, immediately he went up from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him.”
(Matt 3:16, ESV)
The language echoes Genesis 1, where the Spirit hovers over the waters at creation. Here, the Spirit rests upon Jesus, signaling divine anointing. This is not self-appointed authority. This is Spirit-empowered mission.

And then comes the voice from heaven:
“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”
(Matt 3:17, ESV)
Notice when God speaks these words.
This affirmation comes before miracles.
Before sermons.
Before healings.
Before the cross.
God’s approval is rooted not in what Jesus has accomplished yet, but in who he is—the beloved Son, walking in obedient submission.

What This Means for Us

Jesus inaugurates his public ministry by identifying with sinful humanity through baptism. He fulfills God’s saving plan not through power or prestige, but through obedience and humility.
God’s plan moves forward through participation.
Jesus participates fully.
Jesus obeys perfectly.
And now, because of him, we are graciously invited to follow—not as saviors, but as faithful responders.
We will not always understand God’s plan. Often, God reveals his will one step at a time. What he asks of us is not complete clarity, but faithful obedience.
Jesus got in line.
He submitted.
He trusted the Father.
And because he did, heaven opened.
May we learn to trust the God who calls us—not always with answers, but always with a next step. Let’s pray.

Stay in the Word daily, it will save your life. 

When the Plan Changes
A Reflection on Matthew 2:13–23

December 28 is a strange Sunday.
Christmas is technically over, but the decorations are still up. The lights are still glowing. The tree may still be standing—or maybe it came down yesterday. We find ourselves in an in-between space. The excitement has faded. The exhaustion has set in. And quietly, many of us are asking the same question:

What now?

As I look ahead to the coming year, that question feels especially real. Our family has walked through flooding, grief, and loss. A new year is coming—but with it comes uncertainty. Joseph, the quiet figure at the center of Matthew 2, likely asked that same question.
From his perspective, the hardest part should have been over.
The child had been born.
The angels had spoken.
The visitors had come.
God’s promises were clearly unfolding.
And then God shows up again—not with celebration, but with urgency.
“Get up. Take the child. Run.”
No timeline. No familiar destination. Just movement—and trust.
This is the part of the Christmas story we rarely linger over. We prefer tidy endings, especially as the calendar turns. But Matthew reminds us that God’s work doesn’t pause just because the season changes. Sometimes obedience begins after the celebration. Sometimes faith looks like adjusting plans when we thought everything was settled.
Matthew 2:13–23 is a passage for the days after Christmas—for moments when plans change, roads turn unexpectedly, and God calls us to trust Him in the in-between.

God’s Guidance Often Comes One Step at a Time

Matthew writes:

“Now when they had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.’”
(Matt 2:13, ESV)

The Magi are gone. The danger is real. Herod is threatened and violent. Joseph is warned—but only with the next step.
Flee.
Remain.
Wait until I tell you.
Joseph doesn’t receive a full roadmap—only enough light for the next faithful step. And he responds immediately:

“And he rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed to Egypt.”
(Matt 2:14, ESV)

No delay. No bargaining. Obedience costs Joseph convenience, stability, and familiarity—but he trusts God more than comfort.

Jesus as the New and Faithful Israel

Matthew continues:

“And [they] remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, ‘Out of Egypt I called my son.’”
(Matt 2:15, ESV)

Matthew is quoting Hosea 11:1—a passage originally referring to Israel. Just as Israel fled to Egypt and was called out in the Exodus, Jesus retraces Israel’s story. But where Israel faltered, Jesus remains faithful. He brings Israel’s story to completion.
Jesus does what Israel could not.
He obeys fully.
He trusts completely.
He moves toward the promise without rebellion.

Evil Is Real—but It Is Not Ultimate

Herod’s response is horrifying:

“Then Herod…became furious, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem…who were two years old or under.”
(Matt 2:16, ESV)

Fear and wounded pride give birth to brutality. Earthly kingdoms often defend themselves through violence. But God’s kingdom arrives in vulnerability—a child in a manger, not a tyrant on a throne.
Matthew quotes Jeremiah to give voice to the grief:

“A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children…”
(Matt 2:17–18, ESV)

Scripture does not minimize suffering. It names it. And yet, in Jeremiah, mourning does not have the final word—restoration does. Grief is real, but it is not the end of the story.

God Continues to Guide Faithful Obedience

When Herod dies, God speaks again:

“Rise, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who sought the child’s life are dead.”
(Matt 2:20, ESV)

Tyrants are temporary. God is faithful.
Joseph obeys again—step by step. Even when another ruler arises and a new adjustment is needed, Joseph listens, trusts, and follows. God’s greatest work often unfolds in overlooked places—like Nazareth.

Walking into the New Year

As the calendar turns, many of us long not just for a fresh start, but for a clear plan. Joseph didn’t get a plan. He got directions—one step at a time.
And none of the uncertainty stopped God from fulfilling His promises.
Matthew 2 reminds us that God does not ask us to see the whole road—only to walk faithfully on the part we can see. Joseph never knew how the story would unfold, but he trusted the One who did.
So maybe our prayer for the new year isn’t:
“God, show me the whole plan.”
Maybe it’s simply:

“God, help me to get up, listen, and follow—wherever You lead.”

Because the same God who carried the Christ child through danger and uncertainty is the God who goes with us into whatever comes next.
Amen.

When Jesus Doesn’t Meet Our Expectations
A Pastoral Reflection on Matthew 11:2–11

There was a season in my life when Mountain Dew was basically my morning coffee. By the time soda was fading out of my routine, I’d still treat myself on Friday mornings before heading to work at the prison. I’d swing by the vending machines outside Walmart, drop in my 35 cents, and walk into the facility with that cold can ready to start the day.
One particular Friday, right as I cracked open that can at my desk, the emergency call came over the radio. Hours later, after helping stop a suicide attempt, after the blood, the punches, the hospital, the shower, and the change of clothes—I returned to that can. No longer cold. No longer refreshing. Just… flat. The day had not met my expectations.
And isn’t that how life goes? Expectations can be a gift, but they can also set us up for deep disappointment.
It turns out a section of Matthew 11 is all about what happens when expectations collide with reality.

When Even the Strongest Believers Ask Hard Questions

Matthew tells us:
“Now when John heard in prison about the deeds of the Christ, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?’”
— Matthew 11:2–3 (ESV)
John the Baptist—this bold, fiery preacher—now sits in the dungeon of Machaerus. Cold. Dark. Hopeless. And honestly? Doubt grows best in the dark.
John had expected a Messiah who would swing an axe at the root of injustice (cf. Matthew 3:10). A Messiah who looked more like King David with a sword than a rabbi healing the sick and preaching good news to the poor. John wasn’t wrong about judgment—he just didn’t yet see the timing of God’s kingdom.
So he asks, “Jesus… are You really the One?”
And, that question is not unbelief. That’s a believer wrestling honestly with pain.
If we’re honest, we’ve all been there too.
You prayed for healing that didn’t come.
You trusted God and still faced loss.
You lived faithfully but still encountered heartbreak.
And suddenly the question slips out:
“Lord… is this how it’s supposed to go?”

Jesus Answers Doubt with Scripture, Not Shame

Jesus responds with a gentle, Scripture-soaked assurance:
“Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight... the poor have good news preached to them.”
— Matthew 11:4–5 (ESV)
Jesus isn’t defensive. He isn’t irritated. He simply points John back to Isaiah:

• “Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened…” — Isaiah 35:5–6
• “The LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor…” — Isaiah 61:1

John would have recognized these immediately. Jesus is saying:
“John, the kingdom is unfolding exactly the way Scripture promised—just not the way you pictured it.”
And then Jesus adds:
“Blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”
— Matthew 11:6 (ESV)
In other words:
“Don’t trip over the ways I work that don’t match your expectations.”
Faith isn’t pretending life is easy.
Faith is refusing to walk away when God’s ways differ from ours.

Jesus Defends the Doubter

As John’s disciples leave, Jesus turns to the crowd—not to criticize John, but to honor him:
“What did you go out into the wilderness to see? … A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet.”
— Matthew 11:7–9 (ESV)
Jesus affirms John:

• He wasn’t weak.
• He wasn’t fickle.
• He wasn’t a man of luxury or political gamesmanship.

John’s doubts didn’t erase his calling.
And your doubts don’t erase yours either.
Then Jesus quotes Malachi 3:1:
“Behold, I send my messenger before your face…”
— Matthew 11:10 (ESV)
John was the hinge between the old covenant and the new—the final prophet preparing the way for the Messiah Himself.
And yet Jesus ends with this surprising statement:
“Among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”
— Matthew 11:11 (ESV)
Why are even the “least” in the kingdom greater?
Because John saw the Messiah coming—
but we see the Messiah crucified, risen, and reigning.
We live in the era John longed for.
We have the cross.
We have the resurrection.
We have the Holy Spirit.

What This Means For Us

John doubted in the dark.
We do too.
And Jesus meets us the same way He met John—in Scripture, in truth, in compassion.
When expectations crumble, go back to the Word.
Let Jesus remind you who He is, not who you assumed He would be.
I remember wrestling with doubt when I considered leaving a stable 20-year career to follow God’s call into ministry. Everything in me wanted certainty. But God was inviting me into trust.
Doubt is not failure.
Doubt is often the doorway to deeper faith.
And through every doubt, Jesus speaks:
“Look again. I am at work, even here.”

The Good News for Doubting Hearts

John prepared the way for Jesus.
But now—the Spirit of Jesus prepares the way in you.
Even in uncertainty.
Even in unanswered prayers.
Even when God doesn’t meet your expectations…
He is still faithful.
Thank God Jesus doesn’t crush doubting saints—
He lifts them.
And He’ll lift you too.
Grace and peace, friends. Let’s walk this journey with honest hearts and open Bibles—trusting the One who never abandons us in the dark.
Amen.

Living Awake: A Word from Matthew 24:36–44

There’s a moment early in my life I’ll never forget. I was in middle school, riding shotgun with my dad—except I wasn’t in the passenger seat that day. He put me behind the wheel of his manual-transmission car. And let me tell you, that poor car probably still has trauma.
We were sitting at a red light at the busiest intersection in town. It turned green. I pressed the clutch, found first gear, and you can guess the rest. Stall. Right there in the intersection.
My dad simply folded his arms and said, “We’re not moving until you figure it out.”
At the time, it felt like the universe was ending. Looking back? He was preparing me. He wanted me to be ready for the day I’d need those skills.
And in today’s Scripture, Jesus is doing the same thing.

A Call to Readiness

Jesus’ words in Matthew 24 come from what’s often called the Olivet Discourse—a moment when He teaches about things to come. But this section isn’t about signs, symbols, or predictions. It’s about readiness. It’s about staying awake spiritually.
He begins with a straight-shooting reminder:
“But concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only”
(Matthew 24:36, ESV).
Jesus refers to the day of God’s final intervention—His return, the moment when all of history bends toward God’s restoration and judgment. But the timeline? That’s locked in the Father’s keeping. Not ours.
That means every prediction, every chart, every “I figured out the date” theory—none of it holds water. Jesus already answered the question: Only the Father knows.

The Days of Noah — Ordinary but Unaware

Jesus continues:
“For as were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of Man…”
(Matthew 24:37–39, ESV).
People in Noah’s day weren’t evil 24/7—but were busy. Eating, drinking, marrying, planning. Ordinary life was happening. And that’s the danger. Not wickedness… but unawareness.
Life can feel so routine that our spiritual senses drift off.
I once drove through a brutal winter storm at 30 mph across Minnesota—knuckles white, eyes wide, hyper-alert. Compare that with late-night drives between familiar towns, when I’d suddenly arrive somewhere and realize I’d completely zoned out the last 100 miles.
Life works like that too. When things feel normal, we can go on autopilot without realizing it. Jesus warns: spiritual sleepiness is real—don’t drift.

Ordinary Life… Interrupted

Jesus offers two short images:
“Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and one left. Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken and one left.”
(Matthew 24:40–41, ESV).
Again—everyday life. Farming. Working. Tuesday afternoon kind of stuff. And then, suddenly, God acts decisively.
Readiness isn’t about fear. It’s about not being caught spiritually numb.
When I worked at the prison, I taught staff something similar: decisive action matters. You stay alert so that when something happens, you aren’t scrambling.
Jesus is saying: Your spiritual readiness is yours—not borrowed, not inherited, not shared. It’s personal.

Stay Awake

Jesus says:
“Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.”
(Matthew 24:42, ESV).
This isn’t about paranoia. It’s about attention. About connection.
I’ve driven home after wrestling shows, stuffed full of Arby’s roast beef, exhausted, and drifting in and out. Spiritually, Jesus is calling us to the opposite: don’t drift off. Don’t coast. Stay awake to God’s presence.
And He explains it with one more picture:
“If the master of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake…”
(Matthew 24:43–44, ESV).
Makes sense, doesn’t it? No thief leaves a voicemail:
“Hey, I’ll be breaking in around 2 AM—hope that works for you.”
We prepare ahead of time.
Jesus is saying: Don’t wait for the last minute to get your spiritual life in order.
He’s not calling us to panic-clean our souls like we sometimes do before company arrives. He’s calling us to a steady, ongoing, daily walk with Him.

What Jesus Leaves Us With

Here’s the heart of His message—simple, clear, and still true today:

1. Jesus’ return is certain—but unscheduled.
   Only God the Father knows when.
2. Life will feel normal when it happens.
   Ordinary days can distract us from eternal realities.
3. Readiness is personal.
   You can’t borrow faithfulness from someone else.
4. Discipleship is a continual posture of alertness.
   Stay awake. Stay rooted. Don’t give the enemy a foothold.

Instead of pouring our energy into future predictions, Jesus invites us to focus on forming our character in Him—today. To stay grounded in Scripture, prayer, fellowship, service. To keep our spiritual eyes open.
His return isn’t meant to scare believers—it’s the moment when everything broken finally gets made whole.
So, let’s live awake. Let’s stay ready. And let’s trust the God who holds the timetable in His hands.
Amen.

But Wait—There’s More:
A Reflection on Luke 21:5–19

Introduction

On September 27, 1999, the Detroit Tigers played their final game at Tiger Stadium, defeating the Kansas City Royals 8–2. For most people, that day is unremarkable. But for a lifelong Tigers fan, it marks the end of an era. Ten years later, the stadium was completely demolished.
Driving through Detroit this last year, a friend pointed out where the flag now flies above the spot where the stadium once stood. Though the Tigers’ new ballpark is impressive, something about that old stadium makes me nostalgic. It reminds me that nothing—no matter how grand—lasts forever.
That truth brings with it a measure of anxiety. When we look around at our world—at the wars, unrest, and disasters—it is easy to feel uneasy about the future. Luke 21:5–19 meets us in that very space. Here, Jesus speaks of the destruction of something far more sacred than any sports arena: the Temple in Jerusalem.

Historical Context

This passage is part of the larger discourse Jesus gave on the Mount of Olives, often referred to as the Olivet Discourse. The disciples, marveling at the splendor of the Temple, remark on its noble stones and lavish offerings. Jesus responds,
“As for these things that you see, the days will come when there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down” (Luke 21:6, ESV).
The Temple to which Jesus refers is the Second Temple, which was magnificently renovated under Herod the Great beginning around 20 BCE. The structure’s foundation stones were massive, and its exterior shone with marble and gold. For Israel, it represented not merely an architectural wonder but the very dwelling place of God’s presence.
Yet, Jesus foretells its destruction. History confirms His prophecy: in 70 CE, Roman forces under Titus destroyed both Jerusalem and the Temple. This marked a theological and cultural rupture for God’s people. The visible symbol of divine presence was gone, compelling believers to rediscover that God’s presence is not confined to a building or ritual system but is manifest in faith and community.

Exegetical Analysis

The disciples’ immediate response is to ask, “Teacher, when will these things be, and what will be the sign when these things are about to take place?” (Luke 21:7). Like many of us, they desired certainty, a timeline, and control. But Jesus redirects their focus from prediction to preparation.
“See that you are not led astray. For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is at hand!’ Do not go after them” (Luke 21:8).
Rather than giving them eschatological specifics, Jesus provides ethical instruction: do not be deceived, and do not be terrified. The warnings that follow—wars, earthquakes, famines, and pestilences—could easily read like modern headlines.
“When you hear of wars and tumults, do not be terrified, for these things must first take place, but the end will not be at once” (Luke 21:9).
The command “do not be terrified” anchors this section. Jesus’ purpose is not to alarm but to steady. The mention of cosmic and political upheaval serves to remind His followers that none of these events occur outside God’s sovereignty.
As He says elsewhere, “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
This hermeneutical shift—from fear to faith—frames the entire discourse. Jesus is not describing chaos for chaos’s sake but inviting endurance in the midst of it.

Theological Reflection

Jesus continues, “Before all this they will lay their hands on you and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors for my name’s sake. This will be your opportunity to bear witness” (Luke 21:12–13).
Persecution, He explains, is not merely suffering but opportunity. God transforms trials into testimonies. The promise follows:
“Settle it therefore in your minds not to meditate beforehand how to answer, for I will give you a mouth and wisdom, which none of your adversaries will be able to withstand or contradict” (Luke 21:14–15).
The emphasis here is on divine provision through the Holy Spirit. In moments of trial, believers are not left to their own eloquence or strength. God equips His people with both the words and the wisdom necessary to endure. The Apostle Peter later echoes this theme: “In your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Pet 3:15).
Following Christ, Jesus warns, may even divide households: “You will be delivered up even by parents and brothers and relatives and friends, and some of you they will put to death. You will be hated by all for my name’s sake” (Luke 21:16–17).
This statement underscores the cost of discipleship. Jesus never promises comfort or popularity; He promises presence—His enduring presence through every circumstance.
Yet, the conclusion of this section is filled with grace: “But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your lives” (Luke 21:18–19).
Though believers may suffer physically, their ultimate security lies in Christ. As Paul affirms, “For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come... will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 8:38–39).
Endurance is not mere perseverance—it is faith sustained by grace. The believer’s confidence rests not in circumstances but in the constancy of God.

Contemporary Application

The purpose of Jesus’ words is pastoral as much as prophetic. They call the faithful to resilience, not resignation. In a world that often feels unsteady, Jesus’ assurance reminds us that our hope is not in what can be shaken but in the kingdom that cannot.
As the author of Hebrews writes, “Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken” (Heb 12:28).
In an age when fear dominates headlines and anxiety drives decisions, the gospel offers an alternative way of living:
- We do not panic; we persevere.
- We do not despair; we depend on God.
- We do not cling to what fades; we trust what endures.

Conclusion

When everything feels uncertain, remember this refrain: But wait—there’s more.
Paul reminds believers, “What is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Cor 4:18).
Even when the world shakes, Christ remains steady. Even when all else crumbles, His kingdom stands firm. Nothing placed in God’s hands—no tear, no trial, no act of faith—is wasted.
So lift your head. Endure. Trust that your Redeemer is near. When your world feels as though it’s falling apart, remember: Christ remains. And that, dear friends, is more than enough.
Stay in the Word daily, it will save your life. 

Be the One: A Reflection on Gratitude and Wholeness
Based on Luke 17:11–19
By Pastor Travis Voeltz

Luke 17:11–19 (ESV)
On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed.

Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus answered, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”

Opening Thoughts
Do you own a cell phone? Have you ever sent a text message? What’s the fastest one you’ve ever sent?

For me, it’s probably “yes” or “okay.” Some folks can send three texts before I even respond to the first one. But here’s a better question: how fast are we to send the follow-up message—the “thank you so much” one?

We often ask for things—through texts, calls, or even prayers—but how often do we follow up with gratitude once we’ve received what we asked for?

Psalm 9:1 says, “I will give thanks to the LORD with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.” And the preacher Charles Spurgeon once said, “Praise should rise like the mist of earth’s gratitude when God’s love warms the ground.”

When you look back over your life, has God shown up for you? If so—how have you responded? Do you let gratitude rise, or do you just move on?

That’s what’s happening in the story of the ten lepers in Luke 17. It’s about how we respond to God’s goodness—and how gratitude is more than good manners. It’s a vital part of growing in faith.

Ten Lepers and One Response
Jesus was traveling along the border between Samaria and Galilee—an area where Jews and Samaritans didn’t usually mix. As He entered a village, ten people with leprosy called out from a distance: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

Leprosy wasn’t just a sickness; it was total isolation—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. But these ten had faith enough to ask for mercy.

Jesus didn’t heal them on the spot. He told them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were healed. They were blessed in motion. God answered while they moved in faith.

But only one turned back.

When that one man realized he was healed, he stopped in his tracks, turned around, and came back praising God at the top of his lungs. He fell at Jesus’ feet in deep gratitude—and Luke makes sure we know he was a Samaritan, an outsider. He realized the blessing was bigger than his clean skin.

The others? They just kept walking. They got what they wanted and went back to life. And if we’re honest, we often do the same. We pray, God answers, and before long we’re moving so fast we forget Who made it happen.

Spurgeon put it plainly: “To be silent over God’s mercies is to incur the guilt of ingratitude.” Nine were cured—but they weren’t changed.

Healing vs. Wholeness
When the one returned, he didn’t just whisper “thanks.” He fell on his face before Jesus, worshiping openly. Jesus asked, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine?”

That question still echoes today. Ten were healed, but only one was made whole.

There’s a difference between healing and wholeness. Healing restores your body. Wholeness restores your soul. Gratitude is the bridge between the two.

Faith and thankfulness transform a simple transaction—“I asked, God gave”—into a relationship built on trust and worship. That’s the kind of faith that grows roots. That’s discipleship.

Why Gratitude Matters

1. It Benefits You
Being thankful changes your perspective. It lifts the weight off your shoulders and strengthens your faith. Try keeping a “God Showed Up” journal—or even a jar—where you record moments of answered prayer, big or small. Over time, you’ll start to see just how often God has been working.
2. It Benefits Others
Your gratitude story can lift someone else’s faith. Testimonies are contagious—in the best way. When others hear how God has helped you, it gives hope to hearts that are struggling.
3. It Reflects Heaven
Spurgeon called praise “the most heavenly of Christian duties.” When we worship, we’re doing what we were created to do—it’s practice for eternity. Heaven is filled with never-ending praise. We might as well start now.

Closing Thoughts
We live in a time when it’s easier than ever to be heard. We don’t have to travel for miles or sit through a blizzard to gather for worship. God’s goodness is still all around us—and gratitude shouldn’t be silent.

Let’s not be the nine who moved on. Let’s be the one who turned back, fell at Jesus’ feet, and gave thanks.

Let your gratitude rise like the morning mist warmed by God’s love. Let your praise lead you from healing to true, lasting wholeness.

Stay in the Word daily, it will save your life.

Theology of the False Need for Control: Finding Peace Through Trust in God
A Faith-Based Reflection on Anxiety, Planning, and Surrender

Introduction: Control as a False Need

Many individuals assume that control is essential for achieving peace; however, this perceived need frequently leads to anxiety rather than calm. In this article I examine the theological dimensions of control, its relationship to anxiety, and the invitation to trust in God. Through this exploration, I pray readers will encounter practical strategies for attaining genuine peace.

The Gift of Planning and Hospitality

Some may possess a distinct gift for organizing events, coordinating gatherings, or cultivating welcoming environments. These skills—planning, hospitality, and the creation of safe spaces—are authentic gifts that bless others and offer personal fulfillment. Nevertheless, these strengths can become intertwined with a compulsion to control. The belief that peace is contingent upon plans unfolding precisely as envisioned can foster anxiety, particularly when circumstances stray from our expectation.
Recognizing one’s talents remains important, yet it is equally critical to discern when the desire to control outcomes transforms gifts into burdens. For you—and others.

The Drive for Control and Its Impact

The longing for control often transcends the domains of planning and hospitality, manifesting in relationships, professional settings, and daily interactions. The notion, “If people simply act according to my plans, life will proceed smoothly,” may offer temporary reassurance, but it ultimately creates tension within oneself and with others. When anticipated outcomes elude our grasp, disappointment, frustration, and anxiety ensue.
Thus, control is not solely a personal concern but a relational one, influencing interpersonal dynamics and responses to life’s unpredictability. The evidence is clear: the pursuit of control seldom yields the peace that we seek.

Roots of the Desire for Control: A Biblical Perspective

This struggle with control is not a modern phenomenon; it possesses deep biblical roots. In Genesis, the serpent’s words to Eve— “You will be like God” (Gen 3:5)—implanted the notion that taking control could yield ultimate peace and security. Since that moment, humanity has perpetually wrestled with the impulse to direct our own lives, convinced that “being like God” equates to mastery over circumstances.
This inherited tendency forms a component of the human condition, perpetuated across generations. Even now, the cycle persists: we seek peace through our own power rather than through the sovereignty of God.

Consequences: Anxiety and the Cycle of Control

Efforts to attain control frequently result in anxiety rather than tranquility. The greater our pursuit of certainty, the more anxiety accumulates, especially when events diverge from our plans. This cyclical pattern is exhausting: striving for control, encountering setbacks, experiencing anxiety, and intensifying efforts. Each iteration strengthens the false need for control and exacerbates worry.
The biblical witness affirms, “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps” (Prov 16:9, ESV). Ultimately, it is God who governs, not us. When this reality is neglected, anxiety increases as we persist in striving to “be like God.”

Trusting God Instead: Scriptural Encouragement and Practical Steps

Breaking free from the anxiety-inducing pursuit of control begins with confession: we are not God. The call, “Be still, and know that I am God” (Ps 46:10, ESV), offers comfort and calls for surrender. Recognizing that God is truly sovereign enables relinquishment of anxious striving.
In moments of stress—whether facing a challenging conversation or an unexpected change—pause and reflect. Take a deep breath and offer a silent prayer, such as, “Lord, I trust You; help me release this need to control.” This act of stillness invites divine peace into the present circumstance.
To foster ongoing trust, consider integrating practices such as journaling thoughts and prayers, recording instances of anxiety, and meditating on scriptural affirmations of God’s sovereignty. For example, Proverbs 3:5–6 encourages, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.” Such disciplines reinforce the truth that peace is found not in our control, but in faith.

Conclusion: Embracing True Peace

Though control may appear to offer a pathway to peace, it is a false need that results in anxiety and weariness. Faith calls us to surrender this impulse to God, entrusting Him to direct our steps. Through practices of prayer, journaling, and scriptural meditation, we learn to relinquish control and receive the peace God promises.
Let the gifts of planning, hospitality, and creating safe spaces reflect trust in God’s design, rather than serve as mechanisms for control. Remember: true peace is not achieved through grasping, but through faith. God is sovereign—trust in God and find rest for your soul.

Wealth, Warnings, and What Truly Matters

In our fast-paced world, where prosperity can sometimes overshadow purpose, Jesus offers a powerful story. This is not just a story about wealth and poverty, but a deeper call to examine our values and how we live our lives.
Let’s start by hearing the story in the words of Scripture, as told by Jesus:

"There was a rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day.  And at his gate was laid a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who desired to be fed with what fell from the rich man’s table. Moreover, even the dogs came and licked his sores. The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried, and in Hades, being in torment, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side.  And he called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.’  But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish.  And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us.’  And he said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house—for I have five brothers—so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.’  But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.’  And he said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’  He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead’" (Luke 16:19-31 ESV).

This story paints a vivid picture of a rich man living in luxury, contrasted with Lazarus, a poor man suffering outside his gate. It’s easy to see this as merely a tale about heaven and hell or the importance of charity. But there's something more profound here.

Learning from the Rich Man’s Mistakes
The rich man's life was filled with extravagance, yet in the afterlife, he finds himself in torment. Why? It's not about his wealth, but about his neglect of deeper values, resulting in how he used it: he ignored Lazarus, a man in desperate need, right on his doorstep.
The message is not that being rich is inherently wrong, nor poor inherently right. Rather, it's a warning about letting our resources blind us to the needs of others. It's a prompt to ask ourselves: How do we treat the 'Lazarus' in our lives? Are we so wrapped up in our world that we miss the struggling souls God places before us?

The Unbridgeable Chasm
When the rich man finds himself separated by a great chasm from the peace Lazarus enjoys, it underscores another truth: our earthly choices have eternal consequences. There's an urgency to our actions here and now, a need to live with awareness and compassion.

A Call to Listen
The rich man’s plea to send Lazarus back to warn his brothers reminds us that we have all the warnings we need in our lives today. "They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them," says Abraham. Today, we might say we have countless opportunities to learn and change—from the Bible, from community teachings, and from our own experiences.
This story challenges us: Are we listening? Are we growing? Or are we waiting for a miraculous sign to motivate us? Often, it's not miracles we need, but a heart open to the truth that, let’s face it, we already know.

Bringing It Home
As a pastor with the privilege of serving a church, I see daily reminders of both abundance and need. We are called to live with open eyes, seeing both the blessings and responsibilities that come with the resources we possess.
Whether it's through sharing our time, wealth, or just a kind word, may we not make the mistake of the rich man. Instead, let's actively seek to bridge the chasms of our current world with love, awareness, and purposeful action.

Let this reflection encourage us all to live with intention. May we embrace the opportunities around us to serve and uplift, ensuring that our lives are rich in what truly matters.

Stay in the Word daily, it will save your life.

The Joy of Finding the Lost:
Meditation on the Heart
Have you ever experienced the panic of losing something dear—perhaps your keys, a favorite book, or (God forbid) your child in a crowded place? While traveling with my family recently, I endured such agony when my son vanished at a bustling truck stop. The anxiety was consuming until, at last, relief overwhelmed me as it turned out he was with my wife and daughter. Losing that which is precious rattles the soul; its restoration fills us with inexpressible joy.
In the Gospel according to Luke, we find Our Lord surrounded by a curious multitude, not of the self-righteous, but of tax collectors and so-called “sinners.” The Pharisees and scribes stand by, grumbling, “This man receives sinners and eats with them” (Luke 15:2, ESV). Such a scene would scandalize the guardians of religious propriety; yet, in response, Christ speaks—indeed, He offers us parables that upend our assumptions about God’s heart.
The Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin
“What man of you,” Jesus asks, “having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?” (Luke 15:4, ESV). When the shepherd recovers his lost sheep, he does not scold it. Instead, he lifts it onto his shoulders, rejoicing, and calls his friends and neighbors to share in his gladness: “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost” (Luke 15:6, ESV). The lesson is clear: “There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance” (Luke 15:7, ESV).
Christ continues: a woman, having ten silver coins, loses one. She lights a lamp, sweeps every corner, seeking it diligently. Upon finding it, she, too, invites others: “Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost” (Luke 15:9, ESV). Again, the punchline resounds: “There is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:10, ESV).
Where Are We in the Parable?
It is tempting, as we read these stories, to place ourselves among the ninety-nine, content and secure. But I confess, with the candor of one who has wandered many a dark wood, that I have been the lost sheep, the searching shepherd, the onlooking neighbor, and heaven help me, sometimes the grumbling Pharisee. In the drama of redemption, we each play every part.
Consider your own circle—perhaps you are the shepherd, vigilant for a lost friend; or among the ninety-nine, steady and safe; perhaps the neighbor, called to rejoice; or the one who is missing, desperate to be found. I recall a dear friend, torn by addiction and sorrow, whose journey mirrored these parables. There were times I felt the cost—social, emotional, spiritual—of going after the one. Some judged my loyalty, some distanced themselves, but love compelled me, nonetheless. When my friend reached out, weary and wanting to return, my heart rejoiced. Yet, life is seldom tidy—he later died tragically. Still, as the wise pastor at his funeral said, we did all we could to bring him to Jesus. And I trust, in God’s mercy, that Christ finished what I could not.
The Divine Perspective
The religious elite dismissed Jesus’s association with the lost as suspect. But Christ shows us a God who pursues relentlessly, who rejoices extravagantly not over the safe and found, but over the one who was lost and now is found. God’s love is not stingy; it is extravagant. It risks discomfort, reputation, even scandal, for the sake of recovery. The true scandal is not the lostness of sinners, but the boundless love of God for them.
Our Calling: Seek, Embrace, Celebrate

• Look for the one. Who, in your sphere, has drifted to the margins? Who needs to be sought out, not merely tolerated? Christ bids us hunt, not passively wait.
• Embrace the uncomfortable. The love of God compels us toward those we might prefer to avoid, just as Christ dined with tax collectors and sinners. The circle of grace is wider than we imagine.
• Join the celebration. When anyone—no matter how hidden or broken—turns back to God, let us not grumble as the Pharisees did, but celebrate as heaven celebrates. God’s love is a feast, not a lecture.

If You Are Lost...
Hear this: No distance is too great, no pit too deep, for God to find you. As a father searches frantically for his child, so God seeks you—and rejoices when you are found. The angels themselves take up the chorus.
Let us, then, abandon the calculus of merit and embrace the arithmetic of grace. Whether shepherd, sheep, neighbor, or even Pharisee, Christ’s message is for us all: God rejoices over one—just one—who turns toward home. Shall we not do likewise?
“Just so, I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:10, ESV)
Stay in the Word daily, it will save your life.

“Who Invited This Guy?”
– A Reflection on Luke 14:1, 7–14

Scripture Reading: Luke 14:1, 7–14
 
“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” – Luke 14:11

An Invitation That Changes Everything

Are there any Andy Griffith Show fans out there?
I’ve been one all my life. I grew up watching it with my dad, and I still enjoy it today. I even spotted Andy Griffith himself at a Christmas Eve service once when I was a kid in North Hollywood!
One of my favorite episodes, “The Christmas Story,” shows Mayberry’s resident “Scrooge,” Ben Weaver, demanding Sheriff Andy Taylor arrest a moonshiner on Christmas Eve. Instead of throwing the book at him, Andy brings Christmas to the jailed family—and even manages to soften Ben’s heart by inviting him to join in the celebration.
That’s the power of an invitation. And today’s passage in Luke 14 is all about that—except this time, the guest who shows up has everyone wondering: “Who invited this guy?!"

Jesus at the Dinner Party

On the Sabbath, Jesus attends a dinner hosted by a prominent Pharisee. The Pharisees were religious leaders known for strict adherence to the law, often portrayed as Jesus’ opponents in Scripture. So imagine the tension: Jesus, the rabbi stirring up controversy, walking into their exclusive gathering.
And Jesus starts people-watching:

“When he noticed how they chose the places of honor, he told them a parable…” (v. 7)

He tells a story about humility—about not rushing to the seat of honor, lest you be told to move down in embarrassment.

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” – Luke 14:11

It’s a reminder we still need today: It’s better to humble yourself than to be humiliated.

A Radical Guest List

Then Jesus addresses the host directly:

“When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors… But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed…” (v. 12-14)

Not exactly polite dinner conversation. But Jesus isn’t trying to be polite—He’s challenging their hearts.
Inviting family and friends is easy. It’s comfortable. It’s predictable. But inviting those on the margins—the people who can’t repay you—that’s love without strings attached.

Our Own Guest Lists

Raise your hand if you’ve ever hosted a dinner party or planned an event. Who do we usually invite? Family. Friends. Co-workers. People we know. That’s normal and good—but Jesus pushes us further.
He’s not giving us a new set of rules for dinner parties. He’s asking:

“Why do you invite who you invite? Is it out of love… or out of what you might get back?”

If I’m honest, I can think of excuses why not to invite the “other.” It’s uncomfortable. I don’t know them. It might be awkward. Someone else can do it. Maybe next time.
But as I’ve heard it said:

“The biggest mistake we make is thinking we have time.”

Blessed Beyond Repayment

Jesus promises that when we invite and bless those who cannot repay, God Himself repays—not with a future dinner invite, but with eternal blessing:

“You will be blessed… for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.” – Luke 14:14

That’s treasure in heaven. That’s a blessing far greater than anything this world offers.

Where Do We Begin?

Start small. Invitations don’t always look like big banquets.

• Invite a lonely neighbor for coffee.
• Drop off a meal to a new parent.
• Volunteer at the food pantry or chat with someone who visits the Daily Bread fridge.

I once invited a middle schooler who stood apart from the group—alone, different, ignored. When I said hello, they asked, “Me? You’re talking to me?!” The shock in their voice nearly broke me. That simple invitation mattered.

Jesus’ Invitation to Us

This isn’t just Jesus’ teaching about our invitations—it’s His invitation to us. An invitation to live generously, humbly, and courageously.

When we invite those on the margins, when we give without expecting anything in return, we reflect the very heart of God.

So when someone asks, “Who invited this guy?”
Let’s make sure the answer is: “We did.”

Question for Reflection:

Who is God putting on your heart to invite—not for what they can do for you, but because they matter to Him?

When “More” Isn’t Enough: A Reflection on Luke 12:13–21
Scripture: Luke 12:13-21 (ESV)
Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.” But he said to him, “Man, who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?” And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”
And he told them a parable, saying, “The land of a rich man produced plentifully, and he thought to himself, ‘What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?’ And he said, ‘I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.”’
But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God.”
The Pull for “More”
Do you remember the day you first moved out on your own? For me, it was the day after high school graduation. I had my own apartment, two jobs, and—at least on paper—everything figured out.
In reality? I quickly learned that life was going to be more eggs and patio furniture than fine dining and stylish décor. And like so many of us, I found myself craving more. More food options, more furniture, more clothes, more space.
That same longing for more sets the stage in Luke 12. Jesus is in the middle of teaching when someone interrupts Him to settle a family dispute over an inheritance. Instead of stepping into the role of a legal judge, Jesus uses the moment to warn against covetousness.
The Rich Fool’s Problem
Jesus tells the story of a rich farmer who has a bumper crop—more than he can store. Instead of seeing it as an opportunity to bless others, he sees it as a problem to solve for himself. His solution? Tear down his barns and build bigger ones.
Reading his words is telling: I will do this. I will tear down. I will store my grain. I will say to my soul… It’s all about I. God is nowhere in his thinking.
And then, suddenly, God steps into the picture: “Fool! This night your soul is required of you…” All his careful plans crumble in an instant. His wealth, his barns, his future—all meaningless the moment his life ends.
When We Make the Same Mistake
I’ve been there—thinking I had it all planned out. I even once calculated my first budget as a teenager and thought I’d have $100 left over every month! But God’s question echoes through time: “Whose will your possessions be?”
We spend years collecting stuff, only to have it become a burden to those we leave behind. And sometimes it takes loss—a flood, a fire, a sudden tragedy—to remind us that it can all vanish in a heartbeat.
Being “Rich Toward God”
If earthly treasures are fleeting, what does it mean to be “rich toward God”?

1. Put God first. Shift the priority from possessions to the One who gave them.
2. Use your blessings for others. We’re stewards, not owners. Every resource we have is a gift from God to be used for His kingdom.

As Matthew 6:19-21 reminds us, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
A Mirror for Our Hearts
Jesus’ parable isn’t just about one rich man—it’s a mirror for us. Are we building bigger barns for ourselves? Or are we investing in what truly lasts—God’s kingdom?
I’ve lived in my current home for seven years and still haven’t built that yard shed. And I’ve learned something: less really is more. Life isn’t about stockpiling possessions—it’s about being rich toward God.
Living Differently
Being rich toward God begins with a transformed heart. We don’t have to give everything away to live generously, but we do need to loosen our grip on possessions.
Think about that thing you’re holding onto too tightly. Think about ways you can use your resources—time, talents, money—for God’s purposes. Don’t be the fool whose plans end at the grave. Use your blessings for what truly lasts.
Final Question to Reflect On:
If Christ came today, whose would all our stuff be?
Better Question:
What could we do with it for God today?

Who Is My Neighbor? Lessons from the Good Samaritan

Finding Compassion Beyond Comfort

Introduction
Sometimes, when faced with someone in need, our first thought isn’t always, “How can I help?” We may find ourselves prioritizing comfort or convenience, just as I did when someone slipped on a wet floor at my workplace, and I didn’t want to fill out the incident report. This common struggle is echoed in the timeless parable of the Good Samaritan.

The Lawyer’s Question
A lawyer once asked Jesus, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Luke 10:25). He was not alone—others in the Bible, like the rich young ruler and Nicodemus, wondered the same. Jesus responded by turning the question back: “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” (Luke 10:26).
The lawyer answered, referencing Deuteronomy: love God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus replied, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.” (Luke 10:28).

The Purpose of the Law
At first glance, it may seem like Jesus was saying salvation comes from keeping the Law. But the Law’s true purpose is to reveal our inability to keep it perfectly. We hang the Ten Commandments in our homes, but deep down, we recognize our shortcomings. The Law shows us our need for God’s grace rather than providing a checklist to earn eternal life.

Who Is My Neighbor?
Wanting to justify himself, the lawyer asked, “And who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29). Jesus responded with the parable of the Good Samaritan:

• A man is robbed and left half dead on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho.
• A priest and a Levite both see him but pass by on the other side.
• A Samaritan, moved by compassion, tends the man’s wounds, takes him to an inn, and pays for his care.

The Samaritan exemplifies true neighborly love—compassion in action, regardless of boundaries.

Law vs. Compassion
The priest and Levite were likely influenced by ritual laws and fear, but the Samaritan acted out of mercy. The Law alone cannot empower us to love our neighbor as ourselves. The Samaritan’s compassion shows that love transcends rules and expectations.

The Real Message
Jesus wasn’t telling the lawyer—or us—to “just try harder.” He was highlighting our need for help: we can’t achieve perfect love on our own. By inviting us to “go and do likewise,” Jesus calls us to embrace the mercy and love He has shown us.

Conclusion
The Good Samaritan didn’t worry about convenience or rules, he saw a need and responded with compassion. In the same way, Jesus meets us in our brokenness, offering grace and the power to love others. True neighborly love comes from letting Jesus transform us, so we can be His hands and feet in a hurting world.
Let’s choose compassion over comfort, and remember: with Jesus, we can become a good neighbor to those around us.

New Creation: Finding Our True Identity in Christ

In a world filled with countless voices vying for our attention, it's easy to lose sight of what truly matters. From yard signs advertising roofing companies to the constant bombardment of social media, we're surrounded by messages telling us who we should be and what we should believe. But amidst this cacophony, there's a timeless truth that cuts through the noise: our identity in Christ.

The apostle Paul, writing to the churches in Galatia nearly two thousand years ago, addressed a similar struggle. These early Christians were being influenced by those who insisted that following certain religious practices, particularly circumcision, was necessary for salvation. Paul's response? A passionate reminder that our worth and identity come not from outward appearances or adherence to rules, but from being made new in Christ.

"For neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation." (Galatians 6:15)

This powerful statement resonates just as strongly today as it did then. In our modern context, we might replace "circumcision" with any number of external markers we use to define ourselves or others. Political affiliations, social causes, cultural identities – while these can be important, they pale in comparison to the transformative power of being born again in Christ.

But what does it mean to be a "new creation"? It's more than just turning over a new leaf or making a few lifestyle changes. Being born again is a radical transformation that begins with accepting Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior. It's acknowledging that we can't save ourselves, that we need the grace and mercy offered through Christ's sacrifice on the cross.

This new birth isn't just a one-time event, but the beginning of a lifelong journey. It involves:

1. Turning away from sin and seeking forgiveness
2. Receiving the Holy Spirit
3. Living a changed life that reflects our new identity in Christ

When we embrace this new creation, something remarkable happens. As Paul puts it, "the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world" (Galatians 6:14). The things that once captivated us – the pursuit of status, wealth, or worldly approval – begin to lose their luster. Instead, our focus shifts to eternal matters, to growing in our relationship with God and serving others.

This doesn't mean we become disconnected from the world around us. Rather, we engage with it from a new perspective. We're no longer driven by fear, insecurity, or the need to prove ourselves. Instead, we're motivated by love – God's love for us and the love we're called to share with others.

Consider the story of Nicodemus, a respected religious leader who came to Jesus under the cover of night. When Jesus told him he must be "born again," Nicodemus was perplexed. How could someone enter their mother's womb a second time? But Jesus wasn't talking about physical rebirth. He was describing a spiritual transformation that begins when we place our faith in Him:

"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God." (John 3:5)

This new birth is available to everyone, regardless of their background or past mistakes. It's not about following a set of rules or belonging to the right group. It's about surrendering our lives to Christ and allowing Him to remake us from the inside out.

The beauty of this new identity is that it frees us from the constant pressure to perform or measure up. We no longer need to boast about our own accomplishments or righteousness. Instead, like Paul, we can say, "But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Galatians 6:14). Our worth comes not from what we do, but from who we are in Christ – beloved children of God, forgiven and made new.

This truth has profound implications for how we live our lives and interact with others. When we truly grasp our identity as new creations in Christ:

- We're less likely to judge others based on external factors or differing beliefs
- We're more inclined to extend grace and mercy, knowing how much we've received
- We find peace and purpose that transcend our circumstances
- We're motivated to live in a way that reflects God's love and character

Living as a new creation doesn't mean we'll never struggle or face challenges. We still live in a broken world, and we're still in the process of being transformed. But we have the assurance that God is at work in us, molding us more and more into the image of Christ.

As we navigate the complexities of life in the 21st century, let's hold fast to this truth: what truly counts is not our outward appearance, our social status, or our adherence to religious rules. What matters is whether we've been made new in Christ.

So, how do we walk in this new identity? It starts with daily surrendering our lives to God, allowing His Spirit to guide and transform us. It means regularly immersing ourselves in Scripture, letting God's truth shape our thinking and actions. It involves connecting with other believers who can encourage us and hold us accountable. And it means living with an eternal perspective, recognizing that our true citizenship is in heaven.

As we embrace our identity as new creations in Christ, we can experience the peace and mercy Paul speaks of in Galatians 6:16. We're no longer bound by the expectations and judgments of the world. Instead, we're free to live as God intended – fully loved, fully forgiven, and fully alive in Christ.

Today, amidst all the voices clamoring for your attention, listen for the gentle whisper of God reminding you of who you truly are. You are not defined by your past, your accomplishments, or your failures. You are a new creation in Christ, dearly loved and called to a purpose greater than you can imagine. Embrace this identity, and let it transform every aspect of your life.

How Jesus’s Promise Enriches Our Lives Today

Introduction
Father’s Day is a time for reflection, a moment to celebrate the incredible gift of paternal love and guidance. As I ponder my own memories with my dad, I find myself drawn to a parallel within the Gospel of John—a promise made by Jesus during the Last Supper. This promise speaks of the Spirit of Truth, the eternal guide gifted to us by God, ensuring that His love and teachings are ever-present, even when the physical moments are gone.

Jesus’s Promise: A Gift Beyond Time
When we read the Gospels, it can sometimes feel like we’re watching a movie that abruptly ends. Jesus teaches, heals, reveals God’s love, and then ascends. “Wait,” we wonder, “what about us? Are we supposed to figure it all out on our own?”
John’s Gospel reassures us that Jesus never intended to leave us alone. At the Last Supper, Jesus introduces the Holy Spirit, our Advocate and Comforter. This gift is nothing short of extraordinary—a guide to help us understand God’s continuing revelation in our daily lives. Jesus’s promise is a Father’s Day gift, not bound by time but made for each of us, today and always.

The Spirit’s Role in Our Lives
In John 16:12–15, Jesus prepares his disciples for life after His ascension. He acknowledges their limited understanding, saying, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.” The Spirit bridges this gap, guiding us into truth step by step. This gradual revelation mirrors how many fathers teach their children—each lesson carefully timed to build understanding and character.
Jesus assures us that the Spirit doesn’t distort God’s message, declaring, “He will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak” (John 16:13). This promise is a profound comfort in a world filled with conflicting voices. The Spirit’s guidance remains unwavering, pointing us always toward the truths that glorify God, not others or their agendas.

A Personal Reflection on Fatherly Guidance
As I reflect on my own father’s teachings, I’m reminded of how his wisdom shaped me. My dad was a man of presence—whether taking me to racetracks or teaching me how to play pool, he always made time to be there. His advice, like warning me to be cautious around machinery when starting at a nearby factory, was practical yet profound, rooted in love and concern.
Much like Jesus’s promise of the Spirit, my dad’s guidance continues to resonate in my life, even as he battles stage 4 cancer. His lessons, his love—they remain with me, shaping how I navigate challenges and cherish family. The truths he imparted live on, just as the Spirit ensures that God’s revelation thrives beyond the historical moment of Jesus’s earthly ministry.

Embracing the Spirit’s Presence
The Spirit’s work is ongoing, revealing God’s truths daily. As Jesus declared, “He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you” (John 16:14). This assurance reminds us to test the voices we hear—if they lead us toward glorifying Jesus, they are of the Spirit. In a world of distractions, this guidance is indispensable.
Just as our fathers’ teachings live on in us, the Spirit keeps Jesus’s presence alive and active. The sorrow of absence transforms into joy as we embrace this eternal connection. And as we celebrate Father’s Day, we can find solace in knowing that the greatest Father’s Day gift of all—God’s eternal guidance—is always with us.

Conclusion
On Father’s Day, let us cherish the lessons and love of our earthly fathers while celebrating the divine love that never leaves us. Jesus’s promise of the Spirit ensures that God’s truths are alive, guiding us through life’s twists and turns.
So, as we gather to honor our dads, let’s also take a moment to embrace the ultimate Father’s Day gift—a love that transcends time, carried forward by the Spirit. Let’s pray and live with the assurance that we are always supported by God’s eternal presence.
Happy Father’s Day!

Practical Steps to Deepen Your Spiritual Life.
Have you ever body-slammed someone? I bet you’ve at least heard the term. I remember the first time I was body-slammed, on purpose. It hurt! A body-slam is when one person scopes up another like a sack of stiff potatoes and basically flips them over, onto their back, on the ground. My first time professionally receiving a body slam was of course in a wrestling ring, but so was my 2nd, 3rd, and 4th time. And sometime within my first 50 times, I was being body-slammed in a ring in Cleveland, OH. The ring had just broken in the previous match. To fix this, they used car jacks to lift those big grey cement blocks under the ring to hold it up. Those body slams hurt more.
But, in a pro-wrestling match, for someone to receive a body-slam, cooperation on their part is needed. Unless you have the strength of ten gorillas, the other person must go with it for it to work. If you don’t, you’re going to get hurt, a lot more. Like my experience in the wrestling ring, where cooperation is key, Paul and his companions embarked on a journey to Macedonia, in obedience to God’s call.
Paul's Vision
We join Apostle Paul in Acts, chapter 16 when he has a vision. “… a man of Macedonia was standing there, urging him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” And when Paul had seen the vision, immediately we sought to go on into Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them.” (Acts 16:9-10). … The “we” there is from Luke, who wrote Acts, and is now joining Paul, Silas, and Timothy in this missionary journey to “preach the gospel”.
From there, “setting sail from Troas, we made a direct voyage to Sama-thrace (Samothrace), and the following day to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city some days” (v. 11-12). … This record from Luke shows Paul’s spreading the Gospel, going from Asia, all the way to Europe. All because God opened a guy named Saul’s heart to Jesus, along with those accompanying him.
“And on the Sabbath day we went outside the gate to the riverside, where we supposed there was a place of prayer, and we sat down and spoke to the women who had come together” (v. 13). In these times, a minimum of 10 Jewish heads of households, which were all men at the time, were required to form a synagogue. Apparently, this area lacked the required men, so this “place of prayer” was out in the open air rather than a synagogue. So, the “women had come together”. It was the women here who met to pray, worship, and recite from the OT Scriptures. … Sounds a lot like my house—it’s my wife that does everything.
Lydia's Conversion
The last of our passages today focus on another woman. “One who heard us was a woman named Lydia, from the city of thigh-a-tear-a (Thyatira), a seller of purple goods, who was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul. And after she was baptized, and her household as well, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay.” And she prevailed upon us” (v. 14-15). … “Lydia” came from the province of Asia in the district of Lydia, which may account for her name. It’s like if I was called Stuts-man.
As a “seller of purple goods”, Lydia would have some wealth. Purple was a luxury at the time. And she gets baptized, as does her household, and they all go to her place…they have cake in the fellowship hall. Another detailed explanation of the growth of the church, from Luke, who was known for his meticulous work. Now…what about you and me.
Our passages tell of this Lydia coming to know Jesus. … If you know someone in your world, or perhaps it is you yourself, who needs Jesus in their life, then naturally we want to know how this is possible. Much of the world is by now at least, familiar with Jesus. Not the referee back when I was getting body-slammed named Jesus. We here today are at least familiar with thee Jesus. Yet…do we really allow Jesus in our heart? … Maybe we’ve wanted to, but it hasn’t happened yet.
Let’s look again at Lydia because perhaps God has more intention here than just detailing this journey for all time. “One who heard us was a woman named Lydia, from the city of Thyatira, a seller of purple goods, who was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul” (v. 14). … This tells us how Jesus happened for Lydia. “The Lord opened her heart.” … This is telling us the how-to when it comes to having Jesus in our hearts. … “The Lord opened her heart.”
Our God is sovereign. Like the way a GPS navigates you on the best route. It knows the roads and adjusts your path when necessary, just like God directs our lives toward His purpose while respecting our choices. Our God has that power of ten gorillas. … If God chose to body slam us, God would have no trouble. … And it’s God who must open one’s heart. … God is sovereign. … What else do we know of God?
God loves us. … God loves you—God loves me. And God wants a relationship with each of us. So much so, that God sent Jesus to die for us to ensure that relationship is possible. … What do we know about relationships? … It takes at least two.
To have a healthy relationship, you need both parties putting in the work. … If a relationship is one-sided, it isn’t a relationship at all. … Have you ever had a crush on someone, but the feeling wasn’t mutual? … That wasn’t a relationship, was it?
If we want Jesus in our heart, then our hearts must be open to Him. … And the keeper of that key is God. Jesus said, “…that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father” (Jn 6:65).
Think of a healthy relationship. … In that relationship, should one want or need something from the other, what would they do? … Would they put effort towards the other sometimes, all the time, or never? … Would they work on that relationship for a bit, then stop for a bit, and continue like that, off and on? … If they did that, the off and on method, how would that turn out? … How about if one only goes to the other when they’re at the end of their rope, or when they’re at rock bottom, or only when they get bad news, as if the other one in the relationship is a Genie. Ok Genie, I’m broke and need some money.
If our relationship with God is one-sided—and Jesus is not a part of us—when our number is called, and we hope to reach those pearly gates, Jesus says he’ll say, “I never knew you” (Mat 7:23).
Who here today likes a door closed in their face? The Bible is a big book, a living book, but the last book in the Bible is Revelation. And Revelation talks about what those with Jesus in their hearts can look forward to saying, “And he carried me away in the Spirit to a great, high mountain, and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God,” and it goes on to explain this wonderful place, full of all the best you can imagine, “And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb.” (Revelation 21:10, 22). God, Jesus, The Holy Spirit—that is what those with Jesus can look forward to, but like Lydia, our hearts must be open to Him by God. And for God to open our hearts, for us to have that relationship with God, our association with God must in fact be an actual relationship. The love needs to go both ways.
Practical Steps
I spoke on body-slams. To be a receiver of body slam, in a professional sense, you must be willing partner. Otherwise, it’ll look like a sloppy bag of potatoes being thrown around. You must be willing. You use your hips, and you post and go with the move. As we reflect on how God opens our hearts, just like He did for Lydia, I want to leave you with a few practical things to leave here with today. Practical moves we can make as willing participants in a relationship with God. For God to have our hearts opened and filled with Jesus.
These aren't magical formulas, but they are ways we can intentionally position ourselves, not to receive a body slam, but to be more receptive to God's work in our lives.

• Be Present in the Word: When you open your Bible this week, or when you're listening to a devotional, fight the distractions. Give God your focused attention, like you would in any other relationship you want to succeed. What’s one way you can minimize distractions during your Bible study time this week?
• Make Prayer a Conversation: Don't just list your requests as though you’re talking to your Genie. Talk to God about your desire for an open heart. … What change can you make this week to deepen your prayer life?
• Live the Rhythms: Make time for those spiritual habits that draw you closer to God – prayer, scripture reading, connecting with your church family. … What steps can you take this week to cultivate a more active relationship with God? … Imagine how your day might look different if you start with prayer. How might that change your interactions and mindset?
• Reflect on What You Hear: Don't let the words just wash over you. Take a few moments to ponder what you've read or heard. How does what you’ve read or heard in the scriptures speak to your life right now?
• Share your Journey: How has God been working in your life recently? … Who can you share this with?
• Watch Expectantly: Be aware that God might speak in unexpected ways throughout your week and often does. What everyday moments have you noticed God prompting you? … What’s one thing you can do to stay more alert to God’s presence in your life?

Folks, we can go through life without getting “body slammed.” Jesus says, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him” (John 14:23).
The opening of our hearts is ultimately God's gracious work. But let's be people who are actively preparing the way. … Create space for God to move in us. … Step out this week with a desire to truly hear and understand what God is saying to you. … Trust that God will meet us—exactly where you are—and open our hearts.

The Call to Special Operations
Hey everyone. For 20 years, I worked for the state, part of the prison's special response team. Think of us as the SWAT team, but for inside the walls.
When things got intense – a resident in secure housing harming themselves, others, or property, and where sending in regular staff risked serious injury – they called us. We had the training, the skills, the equipment. And it worked. We had a successful outcome 98% of the time. (Stick around, and I'll tell you about that other 2%!)
Growing up, one of my favorite shows was "The A-Team." Anyone remember it? It was about these wrongly convicted ex-military guys who helped people in tough spots. Their leader always said, "I love it when a plan comes together."
That's how it felt on the special operations team. There's a real satisfaction when a solid plan leads to a good result.
So, let me ask you: Do you love it when a plan comes together? How's life been going? Are you walking, running, or maybe even crawling right now?
The Power of the Plan (The 98%)
When we went into a difficult situation in the prison, it wasn't chaos. It was coordinated. We moved as a unit, with specific roles, wearing protective gear, in a formation we had planned, trained for, and used countless times. Let's call that the plan. A well-thought-out approach, the right tools, and practiced teamwork – that's what made the difference in those 98% of the situations.
When the Plan Goes Sideways (The Other 2%)
But what about the times when the plan didn't come together? Those are the stories that stick with you. Let me share a couple of those moments...
Situation 1: We were called to a room where a resident was reportedly asleep. We were told it wouldn't be a problem. We'll call this "doing life without the plan."
So, three of us walked into the room, dressed just like I am today – no special gear, no formation. And guess what? The person suddenly jumped up, eyes wide open, and started throwing punches.
Situation 2: Another time, a resident was self-harming in a confined space, covered in water and blood. We had a plan for this. I was right outside the door with the team. But instead of following the training, a decision-maker said, "Just get in there!"
So, we did. Only two of us could get to the resident at a time. When it was over, we'd taken a lot of hits, and we were soaked in water and blood too. The resident survived, so it was "successful" in a way. But it could have gone so much better if we'd stuck to the plan.
Your Life and The Ultimate Plan
Thinking about those situations in the prison, it makes you wonder... Could your life have gone better at times? Could it still? We all face times when we feel like we're taking hits, maybe even drowning in the mess of it all.
But here's the incredible truth: God has a plan for you. It's not about our protective gear or training. Instead of our blood being spilled in the chaos, realize what we have because of Jesus' blood sacrifice.
Walking Instead of Crawling
Remember when I asked if you were walking, running, or crawling? That image really hits home. Without God, we often feel lame, like life is just throwing punches. But with God, we can walk. We can move forward with purpose and strength.
God planned our redemption not because we were a minor problem, but because we desperately need it – and because God loves us deeply. Our salvation, our rescue from the toughest situation, is found in Jesus.
Embracing the Plan
So, here's the invitation: Confess, repent, and place your faith in Jesus. It's God's plan – the ultimate special operation designed for you. And don't you just love it when a plan comes together?
Amen.

Have you ever felt like you were fishing in an empty sea? Casting your nets again and again, only to come up empty-handed? Perhaps you've experienced this in your career, relationships, or spiritual life. It's a feeling of frustration and futility that can leave us questioning our purpose and direction.

But what if I told you that sometimes, the most abundant catch comes when we least expect it?

Let's dive into a powerful story from the Bible that illustrates this very point. In John 21:1-19, we find a group of disciples, including Simon Peter, deciding to go fishing. Despite their expertise and effort, they caught nothing all night. But as dawn broke, a figure appeared on the shore – Jesus, though they didn't recognize Him at first.

Jesus called out to them, "Children, do you have any fish?" When they answered no, He instructed them to cast their net on the right side of the boat. The result? A catch so abundant they couldn't haul it in. 153 fish, to be exact.

This story is rich with symbolism and lessons for our own lives. First, it reminds us that our own efforts, no matter how skilled or determined we may be, can fall short. It's only when we include Jesus in our endeavors that we truly find abundance.

But why 153 fish? Some interpretations suggest this number represents all known fish species at the time, symbolizing the diversity and inclusivity of God's love. Just as the net held all kinds of fish, Jesus' message extends to every person, regardless of their background or identity.

This brings us to a crucial point: God's kingdom is open to everyone, not just a select few. It's not a "members only" club. Whether you're a lifelong believer or someone who's made mistakes and feels unworthy, God's love and grace are available to you.

Take Peter, for instance. Earlier in the Bible, Peter had denied knowing Jesus three times during His trial. Yet here, in this post-resurrection encounter, Jesus doesn't cast Peter aside. Instead, He orchestrates Peter's restoration, asking him three times if he loves Him – a beautiful parallel to the three denials.

This interaction between Jesus and Peter teaches us about the journey from struggle to reconciliation. It shows us that our past mistakes don't disqualify us from God's love or from being used for His purposes. In fact, sometimes it's through our brokenness that God's light shines the brightest.

Consider the story of Alexander Smith, a sailor involved in the famous mutiny on the Bounty in 1789. After a period of chaos and violence on Pitcairn Island, Smith discovered the ship's neglected Bible. This encounter led to his repentance and the transformation of the entire community. Today, that very Bible is still on display in a Pitcairn church – a testament to the power of God's word to change lives, even in the most unlikely circumstances.

These stories challenge us to rethink our understanding of who belongs in God's kingdom. It's not about being perfect or having it all together. It's about being willing to "jump in" like Peter did when he recognized Jesus on the shore. It's about responding to Jesus' call to "Follow me" with enthusiasm and trust, even when we don't fully understand where He's leading us.

So, what does this mean for us in our daily lives? How can we "feed and tend to God's sheep" as Jesus instructed Peter?

1. Reach Out to Someone in Need: Look around your community or workplace. Is there someone facing challenges? Offer a helping hand, a listening ear, or simply your presence.

2. Volunteer Your Time: Consider dedicating a few hours each week to serve others. Your time can make a significant impact on someone's life.

3. Encourage and Empower Others: Make it a habit to speak words of encouragement. Send a note, make a call, or give a compliment to uplift those around you.

4. Pray for Guidance: Ask God to open your eyes to opportunities where you can show kindness and make a difference.

5. Foster an Inclusive Environment: Ensure that everyone feels welcome in your personal circles. Encourage open conversations, especially with those who might feel marginalized or overlooked.

By taking these steps, we embody the teachings of Jesus and extend His grace and love to those around us. We become active participants in the "abundant catch" of God's kingdom.

Remember, when Jesus tells you to throw out your nets – whether that's stepping out in faith, loving difficult people, or venturing into unknown territory – you can trust that the catch will be bigger and better than you could have imagined. God knows what He's doing, even when we don't.

In our diverse world, it's easy to stick with what's familiar and comfortable. But the story of the 153 fish challenges us to think bigger. Your unique skills, experiences, and perspective allow you to reach people that others might not. You may be able to speak a language – literally or figuratively – that resonates with someone in a way no one else can.

So, let's cast our nets wide. Let's embrace the diversity of God's creation and the inclusivity of His love. Whether you're feeling on top of the world or struggling to keep your head above water, know this: God wants you. He can use you when you least expect it.

As we go about our days, let's keep our eyes open for those "153 fish" moments – opportunities to show love, extend grace, and welcome others into God's expansive kingdom. After all, it's through our daily actions that we bring the message of God's limitless love to life.

Are you ready to jump in?

In a world filled with constant distractions and allures, the struggle against temptation is as real today as it was thousands of years ago. We all face moments when our resolve is tested, our principles challenged, and our faith put to the trial. But how do we navigate these treacherous waters? How do we stand firm when everything around us seems to be pulling us in the wrong direction?
Let's start with a story that many of us can relate to. Imagine you're having a particularly stressful week. Your home has been flooded, you're living in a rental, and everything seems to be falling apart. You're at the gym, trying to find a moment of peace, when you receive an important call. As you answer it, someone nearby becomes irrationally angry, hurling insults and accusations your way. Your blood begins to boil, and the temptation to respond with anger or even violence becomes almost overwhelming.
This scenario isn't just a hypothetical – it's a real-life example of the kind of temptation we face every day. The urge to lash out, to seek revenge, or to abandon our principles in the heat of the moment is a universal human experience. But it's in these moments that our true character is revealed.
To understand how to overcome such temptations, we can look to one of the most powerful examples in history: Jesus' temptation in the wilderness, as described in Luke 4:1-13. This passage offers profound insights into the nature of temptation and provides us with tools to combat it in our own lives.
The story begins with Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, being led into the wilderness for forty days. During this time, he fasts and is tempted by the devil. It's important to note that Jesus was at his most physically vulnerable – he was hungry, isolated, and pushed to his limits. This reminds us that temptation often strikes when we're at our weakest, when our defenses are down.
The devil presents Jesus with three distinct temptations, each targeting a different aspect of human weakness:

1. Physical need: "If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread."
2. Power and glory: "To you I will give all this authority and their glory... If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours."
3. Testing God: "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, 'He will command his angels concerning you, to guard you.'"

In each instance, Jesus responds not with his own words, but with Scripture. He quotes from Deuteronomy, demonstrating the power of God's Word as a shield against temptation. This gives us our first tool in battling temptation: Scripture.
But how do we effectively use Scripture in our daily lives? It's not enough to simply know it exists – we need to internalize it, to make it a part of our very being. This comes through regular reading, study, and meditation on God's Word. Just as we wouldn't expect to become expert musicians without consistent practice, we can't expect to wield Scripture effectively without dedicating time to it daily.
Consider setting aside a few minutes each day to read a passage from the Bible. Start with the Gospels or Psalms if you're new to this practice. Choose a verse each week to memorize, allowing it to become a source of strength and comfort when faced with challenges. Join a Bible study group to deepen your understanding and find support in your spiritual journey.
The second tool we find in this passage is the Holy Spirit. Luke 4:1 tells us that Jesus was "full of the Holy Spirit" when he faced these temptations. This reminds us that we're not alone in our struggles. The Holy Spirit is our guide, our comforter, and our source of strength in times of trial.
But how do we tap into this incredible resource? It starts with cultivating an awareness of the Spirit's presence in our lives. Begin and end each day with a simple prayer, asking for guidance and wisdom. Practice quieting your mind to listen for that "still small voice" that often speaks to us in moments of decision or stress.
Be mindful of those feelings of discomfort or unease that sometimes arise when we're about to make a poor choice. These may well be the promptings of the Holy Spirit, urging us to reconsider our actions. In moments of uncertainty, pause and consciously ask for wisdom before acting.
Remember, temptation is not a one-size-fits-all experience. What tempts one person may hold no allure for another. The key is to recognize our own vulnerabilities and to prepare ourselves accordingly. As Billy Graham wisely advised, "Run away from temptation." Sometimes, the best strategy is to avoid putting ourselves in situations where we know we'll be tempted.
It's also crucial to understand that facing temptation is not a sign of weakness or lack of faith. Even Jesus, in his perfect humanity, experienced temptation. What matters is how we respond to it. As Graham also said, "It's not the temptation you have, but the decision you make about them that counts."
In our modern world, temptations may look different than they did in Jesus' time, but their essence remains the same. We're tempted to prioritize our own comfort over the needs of others, to seek power and recognition at the expense of our integrity, to test the limits of God's grace rather than trust in His wisdom.
But we're not left defenseless. We have the powerful tools of Scripture and the Holy Spirit to guide us. We have the example of Jesus, who faced the ultimate test and emerged victorious. And we have each other – a community of believers who can offer support, accountability, and encouragement as we navigate life's challenges.
The next time you face temptation – whether it's the urge to respond in anger to a frustrating situation, the allure of a shortcut that compromises your values, or the temptation to doubt God's goodness in difficult times – remember these tools. Ground yourself in Scripture, listen for the guidance of the Holy Spirit, and don't be afraid to run away from situations that you know will lead you astray.
Our journey through life will always include moments of temptation. But with God's Word as our guide and His Spirit as our strength, we can face these challenges with confidence, knowing that we're equipped to overcome. In doing so, we not only preserve our own integrity but also become living testimonies to the transformative power of faith in action.

Have you ever wished for a clean slate? A chance to start over, leaving behind past mistakes and embracing a new purpose? This transformative journey isn't just a pipe dream—it's at the heart of the Christian message, beautifully articulated in 2 Corinthians 5:16-21.
The passage begins with a profound shift in perspective: "From now on, therefore, we regard no one according to the flesh." This isn't about physical appearances or worldly standards. It's about seeing people—and ourselves—through God's eyes. Even Christ, once viewed through a limited human lens, is now understood in His full, divine glory.
This new vision leads to an incredible promise: "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come." Imagine the freedom of truly starting anew, unburdened by past failures or regrets. This isn't about simply turning over a new leaf; it's about becoming an entirely new tree.
But how does this radical transformation occur? It's not through our own efforts or willpower. The text emphasizes, "All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself." Reconciliation is the key theme here—the restoration of a relationship that was broken.
To illustrate this concept, picture patching things up after a fight with your best friend. There's that moment of reconnection, of coming back together after a painful separation. Now, magnify that a thousandfold, and you'll begin to grasp the reconciliation God offers us through Christ.
This reconciliation isn't just a personal gift; it comes with a mission. We are entrusted with "the ministry of reconciliation" and become "ambassadors for Christ." Think about that for a moment. An ambassador represents their country in a foreign land. As Christians, we represent Christ in a world that often feels foreign to His values and love.
The message we carry is both simple and profound: "Be reconciled to God." It's an invitation to experience the same transformation and renewed relationship with God that we've been given.
But how is this reconciliation possible, given the chasm between our imperfection and God's holiness? The answer lies in one of the most powerful verses in Scripture: "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God."
Let's break this down with an analogy. Imagine you're back in school, and you've just failed a crucial exam. Your academic future looks bleak. But then, the smartest kid in class—who's never gotten anything less than an A+—offers to swap report cards with you. Suddenly, your failing grade is erased, replaced by a perfect score. It seems too good to be true, doesn't it?
That's essentially what Christ did for us on the cross. He took our sin—our failing grade—upon Himself, and in exchange, gave us His perfect righteousness. When God looks at us now, He sees Christ's flawless record instead of our mistakes.
This extraordinary exchange is the heart of the gospel message. It's not about what we do, but about what Christ has done for us. And it's available to everyone, regardless of their past or present circumstances.
Consider the story of the Apostle Paul, who wrote these words to the Corinthians. Once known as Saul, he was a zealous persecutor of Christians. But an encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus changed everything. Paul went from regarding Christ "according to the flesh" to becoming one of His most ardent ambassadors.
Paul's transformation reminds us that no one is beyond the reach of God's reconciling love. Whether you feel like you've been walking with God for years or you're feeling distant and disconnected, the invitation to be reconciled remains open.
But what does it look like to live as a "new creation" and an "ambassador for Christ" in our daily lives? Here are some practical ways to embody this calling:

1. Initiate conversations about faith: Share how your relationship with God impacts your life, not as a preacher, but as a friend sharing an important part of their journey.
2. Offer prayer: When others share their struggles, offer to pray for them. It's a powerful way to demonstrate God's love and care.
3. Serve your community: Volunteer at local organizations, showing Christ's love through practical actions.
4. Practice kindness: Look for opportunities to extend grace and patience in everyday interactions, especially in challenging situations.
5. Live with integrity: Let your actions reflect Christ's character, demonstrating compassion, humility, and a willingness to forgive.
6. Be a peacemaker: In a world often divided, strive to build bridges and foster understanding.
7. Study and share God's Word: Consider hosting a Bible study or joining one to deepen your understanding and help others grow in faith.
8. Mentor others: Particularly young people, helping them navigate life's challenges with faith and wisdom.

Remember, being an ambassador for Christ isn't about perfection. It's about progress—continually allowing God to transform us and work through us to reach others with His message of reconciliation.
As we reflect on this powerful message from 2 Corinthians, let's ask ourselves: How has God's reconciling love changed us? Are we living as new creations, leaving behind old patterns and embracing our identity in Christ? And how can we more effectively share the message of reconciliation with those around us?
The world desperately needs to hear and experience the transformative power of God's love. As recipients of this incredible gift, we have the privilege and responsibility to be His ambassadors, inviting others to experience the freedom, purpose, and new life found in Christ.
So today, embrace your identity as a new creation. Revel in the righteousness Christ has given you. And step out boldly as an ambassador, sharing the life-changing message of reconciliation with a world in need of hope and renewal.

Have you ever been so caught up in a moment of joy that you forgot about everything else? Picture this: It's a warm spring day, you're cruising down the road with the windows down, and suddenly your favorite song comes on the radio. Without a second thought, you're belting out the lyrics at the top of your lungs, completely oblivious to the world around you.

This scene of unbridled enthusiasm isn't far from what we see in the biblical account of Palm Sunday. As Jesus entered Jerusalem, the streets erupted with excitement. People were throwing down their cloaks, waving palm branches, and shouting "Hosanna!" at the top of their lungs. It was a rock star entrance, minus the big hair and pyrotechnics.

But what does "Hosanna" actually mean? It's not just a celebratory cheer – it literally translates to "save us." In their fervor, the crowd was crying out for salvation, recognizing Jesus as their long-awaited King and Savior.

Luke 19:37-38 paints a vivid picture of this scene: "As he was drawing near—already on the way down the Mount of Olives—the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, 'Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!'"

The energy was electric, the joy palpable. For a moment, it seemed like everyone understood who Jesus was and what He had come to do. But how quickly things can change.

In a matter of days, the same crowd that had welcomed Jesus with open arms was calling for His crucifixion. How does one go from shouting "save us" to "crucify him" in such a short span of time? It's a stark reminder of the fickle nature of human hearts and the ease with which we can lose sight of our need for God.

If we're honest with ourselves, we can probably relate more than we'd like to admit. We all have those mountaintop experiences – moments when we feel incredibly close to God, when our faith feels unshakeable, and we're ready to change the world. But then life happens. We get busy, distracted, or simply complacent. Before we know it, we're not exactly shouting "Hosanna" anymore.

Sure, we might not be actively calling for Jesus' crucifixion, but are we living as though He is truly our Savior? Are our actions aligned with our professed beliefs? Or do we say one thing with our mouths while our lives tell a different story?

The truth is, we're all sinners in need of grace. We all have moments when we fall short, when our patience wears thin, or when we act selfishly. It's in these moments that we're reminded just how much we need God.

Consider a recent personal anecdote: A family's life was turned upside down by a house disaster. Suddenly, their focus narrowed to immediate concerns – health, safety, and basic living conditions. In the midst of this chaos, opportunities arose to interact with people they wouldn't normally encounter – plumbers, carpenters, neighbors offering help. But the stress of the situation also brought out impatience, shortness of temper, and selfishness.

This experience serves as a poignant reminder that even those who dedicate their lives to serving God can stumble. It's a humbling realization that we all need to continually turn back to God, acknowledging our shortcomings and our desperate need for His grace.

Palm Sunday, or Passion Sunday as it's sometimes called, invites us to this very kind of self-reflection. It's a time to be honest with ourselves and with God. To say, "God, I've messed up. I said I'd follow you, but I've taken some detours. I've shouted 'Hosanna,' but I've forgotten what it truly means."

But here's the incredible, life-changing good news: Even when we mess up, Jesus still comes. He rides into our lives, into the heart of our cities, into the messiest and most complicated parts of our hearts, and He still offers us redemption. He still promises us salvation.

That's the astounding grace of God. No matter how many times we stumble, how many times we forget, how many times we shout "Hosanna" and then act like we don't need saving – Jesus keeps coming. His love is persistent, His grace abundant, His mercy new every morning.

As we approach Easter, let's take a moment to truly celebrate Palm Sunday. Let's wave our proverbial palm branches high. Let's shout "Hosanna" and really mean it. But let's also remember what we're actually saying – "save us." Let's be honest about our need for Jesus, our Savior.

It's time for some holy confession. Time to admit that we're not perfect – not even close. But it's also time to rejoice in the fact that through it all, Jesus still comes and offers us a new beginning, a fresh start, a chance to truly live as His disciples.

So today, wherever you are in your faith journey, whether you're on a mountaintop or in a valley, remember this: Your "Hosanna" is heard. Your cry for salvation doesn't fall on deaf ears. Jesus rides on, coming to meet you exactly where you are, offering forgiveness, redemption, and transformative love.

As we move through this Holy Week, let's carry the spirit of Palm Sunday with us. Let's approach the cross with both celebration and solemn reflection. Let's shout "Hosanna" with all our hearts, acknowledging our deep need for a Savior. And let's open our lives to the transformative power of Christ's love and grace.

May we find the courage to be honest about our shortcomings, the humility to seek forgiveness, and the joy that comes from knowing that no matter what, Jesus still comes. He still saves. He still loves. Hosanna in the highest!

The Rooster's Call: Awakening to the Resurrection's Power

As the first light of dawn breaks, a familiar sound pierces the air: "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" The rooster's call, often associated with the break of day, holds a deeper significance in the Easter story. It's not just a wake-up call for a new day, but a powerful reminder of transformation, hope, and the life-changing reality of Christ's resurrection.

Imagine the scene in Jerusalem on that first Easter morning. The city, still shrouded in the lingering darkness of night, begins to stir. Roosters crow, not just at dawn, but throughout the night, their calls echoing through the streets. It's against this backdrop of everyday sounds that an extraordinary event unfolds – one that would change the course of history and the hearts of believers for generations to come.

In the pre-dawn hours, a group of women make their way to Jesus' tomb, carrying spices to complete the burial rituals that were hastily performed days earlier. Their hearts are heavy with grief, their minds clouded with confusion and despair. But as they approach the tomb, they're met with an astonishing sight: the stone has been rolled away, and the tomb stands empty.

Luke's Gospel recounts the scene vividly: "But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body." (Luke 24:1-3)

The women's perplexity quickly turns to fear and awe as two men in dazzling clothes appear, delivering a message that would resonate through the ages: "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen." (Luke 24:5-6)

This moment, set against the backdrop of crowing roosters and the gradual awakening of Jerusalem, marks the beginning of a profound transformation. The external world may have appeared unchanged – the Romans still ruled, the religious authorities still held sway, and the disciples remained in hiding. But internally, a seismic shift was taking place in the hearts and minds of those who would encounter the risen Christ.

The rooster's crow takes on new meaning in this context. No longer just a signal of daybreak, it becomes a clarion call of hope, faith, and renewed courage. It reminds us of another rooster's crow – the one that marked Peter's denial of Jesus. In that moment, the cock's crow was a painful reminder of failure and shame. But now, post-resurrection, it becomes a symbol of transformation and bold proclamation.

Peter's journey from denial to courageous witness exemplifies the power of the resurrection. Once cowering in fear, Peter becomes a fearless preacher, standing up to authorities and proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ. The same man who once denied knowing Jesus now leads others in healing, teaching, and non-violent witness to the power of the Gospel.

This transformation begs the question: What difference does the resurrection make in our lives today? In a world still plagued by violence, injustice, and suffering, how does the reality of the risen Christ change our perspective and our actions?

The resurrection challenges us to see beyond the apparent unchanging nature of our external circumstances. It invites us to experience an internal revolution – where hope replaces despair, faith overcomes fear, and confidence banishes cowardice. Like Peter and the other disciples, we're called to let the reality of the resurrection empower us to live differently in the world.

This new life in Christ isn't about escaping the realities of our world. Rather, it's about engaging those realities with a new perspective and power. It's about having the courage to stand up for justice, to extend love even to our enemies, and to advocate for those in need. It's about believing that the power that raised Jesus from the dead is at work in us, enabling us to be agents of transformation in our families, communities, and the world at large.

The resurrection calls us to a radical love – one that extends beyond our comfortable circles to embrace all of humanity. As Jesus demonstrated forgiveness even to those who crucified him, we're challenged to cultivate hearts of forgiveness and reconciliation. This love isn't passive; it's an active force that compels us to work for peace, to stand against oppression, and to sacrificially give of ourselves for the good of others.

In a world where the cries of suffering often seem to drown out messages of hope, we're called to be like roosters – boldly proclaiming the good news of Christ's resurrection. Our "cock-a-doodle-doo" becomes "Hallelujah, Christ is risen!" It's a message that has the power to wake people from spiritual slumber, to shine light into the darkest corners of human experience, and to offer hope where despair seems to reign.

As we reflect on the Easter story and its implications for our lives, let's ask ourselves some challenging questions:

- Do we truly believe that Jesus is alive and active in our world today?
- How does this belief shape our daily actions and decisions?
- Are we willing to love sacrificially, even extending grace to those who have hurt us?
- In what ways can we stand up against injustice and be advocates for the marginalized?
- How can we be "roosters" in our communities, awakening others to the transformative power of Christ's love?

The resurrection of Jesus isn't just a historical event to be remembered; it's a present reality to be lived. It's an invitation to experience a personal transformation that ripples out into the world around us. As we embrace this truth, may we find the courage to live boldly, love extravagantly, and proclaim fearlessly the good news that has the power to change everything.

So, as you hear the rooster's call – whether literally at dawn or figuratively in the moments that remind you of Christ's resurrection – let it be a reminder. A reminder that new life is possible, that love conquers fear, and that the power of the resurrection is at work in and through you. Let your life be a continuous "cock-a-doodle-doo," awakening the world to the hope, love, and transformative power of the risen Christ.