
Jesus shows us both His nature and a recognizable “name” so that we can understand Him — and understand what we really need to know.

We all reach for something we can actually recognize and hold on to—some concrete person or presence we can truly know, not just a philosophy about. That hunger is exactly what John 1 puts its finger on: the Word who was with God in the beginning became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.

We need something that lasts, not just a temporary banner of God’s love. Fortunately, that’s exactly what God provides for us.

We tend to skip the genealogy at the start of Matthew—all those names, so many of them people we know nothing about. In doing so we miss something that matters deeply to ordinary people like us who wonder whether God actually works through lives like theirs.

Are we looking for the right thing and do we understand the right “time” for it? As we get everything synchronized for Christmas, the author of Hebrews encourages us to be synchronized with Christ.

When a winter forecast keeps bouncing around, most of us know better than to cancel everything over what might never arrive. Luke opens his Gospel with the opposite claim: this is no chance of grace next week, but the report of what has already been fulfilled among us—Jesus actually coming in history.

We don’t want to simply know about a miracle that happened long ago and was forgotten thereafter. We need to know that there is a consistency in God’s care, too.

Christmas can arrive wrapped in lights and joy while grief, loss, and the sense that this world is deeply broken remain close at hand. The Gospel of Mark opens with “the beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ,” echoing creation itself and pressing an Advent question beneath all the decorations: What kind of beginning can Jesus bring to lives that do not feel whole?

We tend to assume God works through the right people, in the right places, with the right credentials. Isaiah 44–45 is genuinely jarring to our assumptions: the Lord names a pagan, idol-worshiping foreign king as the one who will restore His people to their land.

As we continue in Ephesians 2, Paul helps us to think about the difference between being called to do “good works” and earning God’s favor through our works.

Comfort, institutional preservation, and tribal identity can crowd out obedience to God’s call in our lives. Do we hear His call to reach those in need of His Grace and to live in the “risky repentance” that involves?

The wonder of what God does for us is so much greater when we don’t forget the story behind it.

Solomon, Rehoboam, and Jeroboam all treated God’s promises like something they could improve on or control on their own terms only to encounter the pavement courtesy of the black ice of sin. Our efforts end like that, but God’s faithfulness outlasts our failures.

As we continue in Ephesians 2, we’re reminded of how God loves us even when we are of no value at all.
Jim Wolfe traces God’s redemptive plan through four Old Testament “roadside attractions” that foreshadow Christ — skins, boxes, baskets, and snakes. Along that scenic route, we arrive at the true meaning of Christmas, an attraction we actually need.

Pastor Tim talks about the job of officers in the church — what are the “offices’ and what do they do?

We return to Ephesians in a new series in the second chapter and to start us off Pastor Tim reflects on our state without God.

Pastor Tim previews our new Monday night series — Dead then Alive — and reflects on how God rescues us from being dead.

A folding map only works if you already know where you are. Enough wrong turns, and you’re stuck staring at it with no idea how to find yourself—let alone get back on course. Psalm 89 asks what God’s promises do for those of us who aren’t the Hannahs and Davids, who look at the map and go the wrong way.

As we wrap up our series in John 5, we are confronted with the most important question: do we believe His words?