We can say all the right things about Jesus and still expect the wrong things from him. In Luke 19, the crowd welcomes its King with praise, peace, and glory—but what happens when the Savior we celebrate does not pursue the earthly victory, security, or power we wanted?
There’s always one thing we’d rather not put on the table when God asks us to give something up—and we usually know exactly what it is. In Luke 18, a rich man walks away from Jesus grieving because that one thing is precisely what Jesus names, and the disciples’ stunned question in response—”then who can be saved?”—turns out to be our question too.
We all know what we think we need—food, security, respect, a life that finally comes together—but Jesus in John 6 cuts straight to the question underneath: what do we really need, and why do we keep mistaking the temporary for the eternal?
We all load our suitcases for life with what the world promises will make us wise—predictions, solutions, human answers—yet when Revelation calls for wisdom to understand the beast, it’s asking something far more unsettling: whose wisdom are we actually following?
When fear and uncertainty close in, we don’t just want comfort—we want control, something solid we can hold onto. In Exodus 32, Israel melts down the very gold God gave them in Egypt to cast a god they can see, and the impulse driving that golden calf is closer to our own hearts than we’d like to admit.