Tag: christianity

1 In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. 2 The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. 3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4 And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2025), Ge 1:1–5.

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life, and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2025), Jn 1:1–5.

At the beginning of a new year, the image that comes to mind is that of a blank slate: crisp planners, empty calendars, and clean pages that have yet to be marked. January feels fresh, full of possibilities, and the shelves are lined with tools for organizing and reinventing life. Many people head to the gym with renewed determination, crowding the space for the first couple of weeks as they try to improve themselves. That same impulse toward new beginnings should exist spiritually as well, stirring a hunger to pick up Scripture with a fresh commitment and to start again with God. Beneath that desire lies a deeper awareness that something inside is not right, that there is hurt, groaning, and a genuine need for change.​

This need for a true new beginning is reflected in the opening of Genesis, where the earth is described as without form and void, with darkness over the face of the deep and the Spirit of God hovering over the waters. The picture is one of confusion, emptiness, and shapelessness—a world in chaos. Into that chaos, God does not struggle or force anything; God simply speaks. With the words “Let there be light,” light appears, order begins, and God separates light from darkness and calls it good. Even today, the phrase “Let there be light” echoes in places like the University of California’s motto, expressing a commitment to bringing illumination and understanding into confusion. This is how God works: by the power of a spoken word that brings order, meaning, and goodness where there was once only disorder.​​

The prologue of the Gospel of John picks up this same theme of beginnings, declaring that in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. John intentionally echoes Genesis to show that the arrival of Jesus is a new creation event, an act of re‑creation in a dark world. By using the Greek term logos, John speaks both to the Hebrew story of creation by God’s word and to the Greek understanding of logos as the ordering principle of the universe. Logos is no mere concept; it is a person, Jesus Christ, through whom all things were made, in whom is life, and whose life is the light of humanity. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it, even when that darkness takes the form of rejection, suffering, and the cross.​​

Because of this, the hope for a new year is not found in a reset button that erases the past, but in God’s ongoing work of re‑creation. No one can truly wipe away their history or pretend their failures never happened, and Scripture does not begin with a world that is already good, but with one that is disordered and chaotic. God speaks into that chaos and only then declares it good, just as Christ confronts sin rather than skipping over it. Personal chaos, stress, anxiety, fear, broken relationships, does not vanish the moment someone turns to Christ; those patterns continue to threaten and return. The call is to remember where those patterns came from, to understand the past rather than ignore it, and to let God’s word keep speaking order and light into the places where darkness tries to reemerge.​

In a world where each morning’s headlines reveal new sites of chaos and brokenness, God still says, “Let there be light,” and invites people to be that light in the new year. This invitation is not about forcing change or overpowering others, but about quietly and consistently reflecting the light of Christ through everyday life. The world does not need more clever religious slogans or symbols to identify Christians; it needs men and women whose kindness, consideration, love, and integrity make the presence of Christ visible. Each sunrise and sunset becomes a reminder to “do it again,” to begin again in being light in the darkness. To step into this year, then, is to accept the opportunity to live outwardly what God has begun inwardly, letting the eternal light placed within shine so that others can see and know there is a God who still brings order out of chaos and invites everyone to begin again.

36 “But concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only. 37 For as were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 38 For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, 39 and they were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 40 Then two men will be in the field; one will be taken and one left. 41 Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken and one left. 42 Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. 43 But know this, that if the master of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Mt 24:36–44.

The season of Advent serves as a time of profound anticipation where the Church looks back to the manger and forward to the second coming of Jesus. While many believers have been shaped by popular culture to view this future hope as an evacuation from a doomed world, Scripture paints a different picture. We are not waiting for a secret departure but for the parousia, a technical term denoting the official arrival of a king to transform his city and begin his reign. Our hope is grounded in a royal arrival rather than a rescue mission that abandons creation.

This distinction becomes clear when we carefully examine Matthew 24 and strip away the influence of modern novels and movies. Jesus explicitly compares His return to the days of Noah, where the unrighteous were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away. In this biblical parallel, being taken corresponds to judgment and removal, just as the flood waters removed the wicked. Conversely, Noah and his family were the ones left behind on the earth to inherit the new era, meaning that those who remain are actually the blessed ones preserved for salvation.

This interpretation is reinforced by the consistent pattern of judgment found throughout the Gospel of Matthew. In the parables of the wheat and the tares, the dragnet, and the sheep and the goats, it is always the unrighteous who are first removed from the kingdom to face judgment. The wheat, the good fish, and the sheep remain to inherit what the Father has prepared for them. Even in the parallel passage in Luke, Jesus clarifies that those who are taken are brought to a place of judgment where vultures gather, further confirming that the removal is a somber fate rather than a joyful escape.

Recognizing this truth shifts our theological framework from a desire for spiritual escape to a robust hope in the restoration of all things. The biblical vision is not about discarding the cosmos but about the renewal of heaven and earth under the lordship of Christ. This perspective aligns with the “new creation” model, which expects God to purify and perfect the physical world rather than destroy it. Such a hope encourages us to value the earth and our physical existence as part of God’s redemptive plan.

Therefore, our Advent waiting must be characterized by active stewardship rather than passive idleness. The parables of the ten virgins and the talents instruct us to remain faithful and productive, investing our lives in the work of the Gospel while we await our Master. We do not look for a secret exit but stand ready to welcome King Jesus when He returns to cleanse His creation. We wait with the confident hope that we will be the ones left behind to inhabit the renewed earth and dwell with Him forever.

4 Now the word of the Lord came to me, saying, 5  “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” 6 Then I said, “Ah, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth.” 7 But the Lord said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am only a youth’; for to all to whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. 8  Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, declares the Lord.” 9 Then the Lord put out his hand and touched my mouth. And the Lord said to me, “Behold, I have put my words in your mouth. 10  See, I have set you this day over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to break down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.” 

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Je 1:4–10.

God empowers individuals to fulfill their purposes and achieve great things, expecting them to act on His plan without excuses. This divine empowerment is not contingent on human qualifications or self-perceived abilities; rather, it is a gift from God intended to dispel self-doubt and equip people with His very Words. The core of God’s purpose for us is a resounding call to action, reminding all followers that God has a plan for each of their lives and that excuses are an obstacle He has no time for. He gives the authority and the means to succeed, leaving no valid excuse for inaction.

Excuses are a universal problem, because they hinder progress and are ultimately irrelevant in the face of God’s purpose. Whether in everyday life or when responding to a divine call, excuses are unhelpful and frustrating to those who receive them. God does not care about our excuses, no matter how clever or seemingly valid they may be, because He has already chosen and set us apart for a specific service. He knows our every limitation, but He also knows the immense power He has placed within us. Therefore, to make an excuse is to dismiss God’s foreknowledge and His perfect, loving plan.

Furthermore, God does not require qualifications or prerequisites for us to serve Him. Common excuses like being too young, too old, or lacking specific abilities are irrelevant to a God who provides the necessary tools. Our true qualifications and preparation for service come directly from God’s gifting, not from a series of classes or achievements. God’s choice is rooted in His unconditional love, not in our merit. He is fully aware of our perceived shortcomings, but He expects us to focus not on our limitations, but on the power He has put within us to achieve anything.

The authority to serve God is born out of obedience, and it requires individuals to set aside their excuses and simply follow His commands. Our job as believers is not to add our own thoughts or cleverness to God’s word, but to deliver it faithfully to people. This act of obedience is what gives us the authority to act on His behalf. It is through this submission that God works, cleansing and transforming us and putting His power and words in our mouths. When we embrace this truth, we understand that any rejection of the message is a rejection of God Himself, not of our own limited abilities.

There are no excuses that should inhibit us from fulfilling God’s plan. Through His Word and the Gospel, God gives believers the authority to bring hope to the downtrodden, peace to the anxious, and love to a world in need. This authority is not based on worldly power, but on the immense transformative power of the Holy Spirit. With God having already done the crucial prep work by choosing and equipping us, our only remaining task is to obey and take action. God provides an unwavering call to set aside all reasons for inaction and to embrace the purpose for which we were created—to serve His kingdom and bring about His will on earth.

8 By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. 9 By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. 10 For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God. 11 By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive, even when she was past the age, since she considered him faithful who had promised. 12 Therefore from one man, and him as good as dead, were born descendants as many as the stars of heaven and as many as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore. 

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Heb 11:8–12.

Desperation will cause many to either do many great things, or lead to a road that may be unsavory. However, when someone is desperate they lack options and will resort to the limited scope of vision they have in a time of peril. These are times that lead us to act on nothing but a guess. Faithful action will seemingly act against common sense because while lacking clear immediate outcomes, faith is not born of desperation or blind guesses, but rather from a deep-seated confidence in the unseen realities of God’s promises. While desperation might compel individuals to act on limited vision or guesswork, Abraham and Sarah’s faith, as depicted in these sources, represents a profound departure from this. Their responsive, sacrificial, courageous, persistent, and dependent faith allowed them to transcend their seemingly desperate circumstances, not by guessing, but by trusting absolutely in the character and promises of a faithful God, whose power and wisdom surpass all human limitations and uncertainties.

Obedience to God’s call is the beginning of faith. Abraham’s faith was immediately expressed through his obedience to God’s command to leave his homeland for an unknown destination. He went out, not knowing where he was going, and didn’t trouble his mind with where he was going. This profound trust meant he placed himself entirely in God’s hands. His faith displaced all worry about his future, demonstrating that implicit faith and obedience are due to God, and to him alone. This act of obedience went against all common sense, as he left familiarity and security for the unknown, relying solely on God’s word. Abraham’s departure was a great trial of faith. He left behind everything that was secure, prosperous, peaceful, and enjoyable, including his family, highlighting the sacrificial aspect of his faith. His willingness to embark on this journey without a clear destination required heroism and courage, as the explicit promise of the land as an inheritance was given only after he had entered Canaan. While God promised Abraham a physical land, the sources emphasize that Abraham’s ultimate hope extended beyond the earthly Canaan. He lived in the land of promise as a stranger, dwelling in tents, which signified his transient status. Our response to God’s call when we walk in faith doesn’t rely on earthly assurances or a fallback plan. Instead, we rely solely on the command to go and do it. Through Christ, we see that hope is manifested through faith and that to walk on faith, we must rely upon God’s call alone and not on our own worldly securities.

Sarah’s journey shows how faith can conquer unbelief and yield incredible results. Initially, her unbelief was evident when she laughed at God’s promise of a son in her old age and previously, when she had Abraham sleep with Hagar. However, her faith ultimately prevailed. She came to believe that God, who had made the promise, was faithful and capable of fulfilling it. This unwavering confidence in God’s reliability became the cornerstone of her faith. The ultimate fruit of her faith was the birth of Isaac, a child of the promise. This seemingly impossible birth was the beginning of God’s promise to make Abraham’s descendants as countless as the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore. This demonstrates God’s power to make a barren life, whether physically or spiritually, fruitful. Sarah’s lineage eventually led to the Messiah, the greatest blessing of all. This story illustrates that faith doesn’t always immediately remove doubt, but by remaining in it, we allow God to address our unbelief and bless us in unimaginable, often impossible, ways. It also shows that God sometimes asks us to let go of our reliance on worldly systems and walk on faith alone.

Faith is an active journey toward God’s purpose, a path that often leads to the unpredictable. The stories of biblical figures like Abraham and Noah illustrate this. Abraham’s obedience, for instance, immediately demonstrated his faith, guiding him on a journey into the unknown. Similarly, Noah’s construction of the ark and Sarah’s miraculous conception in old age show how faith can challenge common sense. These examples reveal that faith isn’t static but a dynamic process. The lives of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob embody this journey. They lived as pilgrims, acknowledging they were “aliens and strangers on earth,” symbolizing their refusal to settle for a temporary existence. Their nomadic life in tents reflected a constant readiness for a better, heavenly dwelling. This “pilgrim spirit” emphasizes that Christians should not prioritize material possessions but rather be prepared for God’s mission. The popular scout motto, “Be Prepared,” echoes this sentiment, but with a spiritual distinction. While it often means readiness for the unexpected, the preparation God asks of us is a readiness to serve when He calls. This is the essence of a faith journey: a continuous readiness to go forth and be an ambassador for God in the world. It means finding peace in uncertainty, resting in the certain nature of God, and trusting in His desire to care for us and all creation.

Abraham and Sarah are foundational examples of biblical faith. Their lives demonstrate a profound trust in God’s promises, even when those promises seemed naturally impossible or required immense sacrifice. Their story shows that faith is not a desperate reaction but an active, persistent, and confident reliance on God’s character and power. Instead of being limited by human uncertainty, they were able to move forward, knowing that God specializes in the impossible. Ultimately, their journey as sojourners highlights a hope that transcends earthly life, calling believers to anticipate a permanent, heavenly inheritance. Thus we need to reconnect to faith not out of desperation, but out of an obedience to the Almighty God.

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. 16 For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. 17 And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. 19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross. 21 And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, 22 he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, 23 if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, became a minister. 24 Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church, 25 of which I became a minister according to the stewardship from God that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known, 26 the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to his saints. 27 To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. 28 Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Colossians 1:15-28.

My least favorite word in the English language might actually be “actually.” The primary reason is that it often comes from the tongue of someone that is going to obnoxiously attempt to tell you that you are gravely mistaken in your understanding of some subject. Much of the discourse that is even remotely civil in the world today is full of these “actually statements” that try to get the better of an opponent or demonstrate that their knowledge base is better. Unfortunately, the church and many Christians fall into the trap of the “actually” and try to demonstrate that they have a moral or ethical authority because they follow Christ. To follow Christ requires humility and sincerity in our care for others, therefore there is no room for moral or authoritarian elitism when encountering the world. As stated in Colossians, the authority and moral high ground belongs to Christ alone, and we are to remember that it is Jesus that brought us from a hostile position with God into an everlasting peace.

Since Jesus created the Earth and everything in it, it would be meaningless for anyone to even begin to attempt to claim any sort of supremacy that would equal or even begin to rival His authority. Since Jesus spoke with humility, it would be ridiculous for any of us to try and speak to anyone with any sort of hubris or pride. Christ’s power extends beyond the known and seen, therefore there is a foreknowledge that exceeds even the most intelligent that have ever lived. Since Jesus existed before the beginning of the world, we owe everything to Him, and thus we must humbly submit to the absolute supremacy of Christ in our lives and in the world. While there may be some things that we might believe ourselves to be experts in, we must be humble even in that because Jesus knew before we even existed. Without the loving action and mind of Christ, we would be prone to chaotic thinking and living, because when we act out of pride, we are hostile to the mind of Christ. However, the great love of Christ transforms the hostility to peace through the power of the cross.

Christ fought to bring all humans to be reconciled back to God, and thus desires for the Church to remain unified unto itself. Therefore, it is antithetical for any member of the Church to demean or “other” any other member of the Church. For the Church is not only called to peace with God, but also peace with each other. Sin works its way among members of the Church through divisiveness and pride. When one part of the Church feels more important or full of a more desired position among the other parts of the Church it misses that without Christ the Church would still be in a hostile relationship with God. On the cross, Jesus humbly carries out His mission to unite the Church unto God, and no longer allows sin to separate us and divide us, but we must humbly follow and not be led astray. The Church’s mission in the world is to reflect the reconciliation offered by Christ among its different members and as such by its faith it will reflect the hope offered to the world through the Gospel. Through unity, the Church represents the ministry of Christ in the world.

The Gospel given to us was preached to every creature under heaven, signifying its universal appeal and divine origin, contrasting with the exclusiveness of the heretical teachings. Thus, there is no one that is not available to receive God’s Good News therefore we must share with the whole world. The calling upon all followers is to make all the mysteries of God known to the world, which would mean that we must also grow in our faith that we might familiarize ourselves with all of those mysteries. Thus, we must ensure that we work repeatedly to grow in knowledge of the scriptures, not to build our pride but to share it with everyone. Just as we were once hostile to God in sin, Jesus redeemed us, and called us to show those around us God’s peace that they might be pulled toward hope in the Gospel. Since God makes His glory known to us through Christ Jesus, it is our mission and responsibility to share that glory with the world. This ministry requires humility and for us to put on the mind of Christ to see how the world hurts, and work to bring reconciliation to the whole world, which leads to peace.

Peace comes at the cross, nothing we have done has led to God’s gracious act, therefore none of us have any reason to brag or “actually” anyone. Therefore it is important to remember that Christ leads with humility, that even though He was around at creation and all things were created by Him, through Him, and for Him, He still humbled Himself on the cross to bring us peace. All God’s blessings were presented to us even when we were openly hostile to God in our life of sin. Therefore, our need at this time is to work to stop being hostile to others, but rather present the Gospel through our living, working to be at peace with all people, especially those we have conflict with both inside and outside the Church. For this is what God sought to give us through Christ. Our world is a challenging place, there is temptation and chaos all around us, and most of us just want to be kind, or at the very least just live in peace. To follow Christ is more than just living in our peace bubble isolated, because just as Christ entered into the world to directly deal with our hostility, we too must engage and enter the world and face hostility to show peace as found in the Gospel, which means we must walk with people, and listen and show peace, which isn’t a confrontation, but “actually” a caring embrace.

1  God has taken his place in the divine council; in the midst of the gods he holds judgment: 2  “How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked? 3  Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. 4  Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.” 5  They have neither knowledge nor understanding, they walk about in darkness; all the foundations of the earth are shaken. 6  I said, “You are gods, sons of the Most High, all of you; 7  nevertheless, like men you shall die, and fall like any prince.” 8  Arise, O God, judge the earth; for you shall inherit all the nations! 

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Psalm 82.

In a world perpetually searching for answers and solutions, humanity often places its faith in various forms of earthly power, from influential individuals to fictional superheroes and even emerging technologies like artificial intelligence. Yet, a profound and consistent message echoes through spiritual teachings: true help and ultimate salvation emanate solely from a divine source. This perspective challenges us to abandon our misguided reliance on transient earthly saviors and instead embrace a higher calling—to pursue genuine justice and extend compassionate care to those in need, guided by divine principles.

Throughout history, humanity has grappled with the unknown, constructing intricate systems and deities to explain the inexplicable and provide comfort in uncertainty. From ancient pantheons to modern-day icons, the quest for a protector or a guiding force remains constant. However, as ancient texts reveal, there exists a singular God who judges the earth and claims dominion over all nations. This divine entity demands not blind worship, but active participation in upholding righteousness. Judges are admonished to cease favoring the wicked, to defend the vulnerable, and to rescue the weak and needy, underscoring that the pursuit of justice is not merely a human endeavor but a divine imperative.

Our contemporary society, much like those of antiquity, frequently turns to figures of immense power or fictional heroism for deliverance. We are drawn to the idea of a singular savior—be it a caped crusader, a charismatic leader, or even the promise of advanced AI—to solve our most pressing problems. This reliance, however, is ultimately misdirected. The narrative suggests that all such earthly sources of help are fallible and will inevitably disappoint. True salvation and enduring assistance, it posits, can only be found through unwavering faith in God. Those who usurp this divine role, whether people or constructs, are destined for judgment, highlighting the futility of placing ultimate trust in anything less than the divine.

The misguided pursuit of earthly saviors, whether they are superheroes or technological marvels, stems from a deep-seated human hubris—a desire to control and perfect the world through our own ingenuity. The creation of AI, for instance, driven by the noble intention to “save the world,” risks leading to destruction and injustice if not anchored by a profound connection to a higher power and moral compass. God’s call is clear: abandon these false idols and follow a path of active righteousness. This involves not only caring for the poor, the fatherless, the orphan, and the widow, but also recognizing that neglecting these fundamental duties will lead to societal and spiritual decay.

Ultimately, the divine summons humanity to open its eyes to the pervasive injustices of the world, to actively care for the marginalized, and to boldly cry out for justice on their behalf. This is not a passive expectation but an active mandate. We are reminded that we do not require superheroes or worldly power, for divine wisdom and strength empower us to be agents of justice in a world that God loves. By rejecting the allure of fleeting saviors and embracing the divine call to compassionate action, humanity can truly embody the principles of justice and find genuine salvation.

17 For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who is not partial and takes no bribe. 18 He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the sojourner, giving him food and clothing. 19 Love the sojourner, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt. 20 You shall fear the Lord your God. You shall serve him and hold fast to him, and by his name you shall swear. 21 He is your praise. He is your God, who has done for you these great and terrifying things that your eyes have seen.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Deuteronomy 10:17-21.

In the grand narrative of faith, God beckons us to remember our deeply personal stories of transformation and salvation. This remembrance is not merely an exercise in nostalgia, but a profound call to action, urging us to extend boundless love, unwavering care, and profound compassion to all, especially those most vulnerable amongst us. This outward expression of selfless love becomes a vivid reflection of God’s own intrinsic justice, boundless love, and immeasurable mercy. Just as He, in His divine sovereignty, champions the cause of the vulnerable and lovingly guided us even when we were lost and utterly undeserving, so too are we called to embody His character in our interactions with the world, ensuring that our lives echo the transformative power of His grace.

The story of American independence, with its resounding declaration of freedom from oppression, remarkably parallels the foundational themes of Christianity. Both narratives speak to a profound yearning for liberation, ultimately pointing to God’s inherent love for humanity. Yet, over time, the potent symbolism of the American independence movement—where individuals from all ages and backgrounds united against tyranny—has, in some ways, faded from our collective consciousness. Similarly, as Christians, our own story of faith is a powerful declaration of freedom from the enslavement of sin, a liberation secured through the boundless love of God manifested in Jesus Christ. This parallel serves as a powerful reminder that the fight for freedom, whether temporal or spiritual, is deeply rooted in divine love and a desire for human flourishing.

A critical challenge for believers is the tendency to lose sight of the profound significance of our spiritual awakening over time. Just as the Israelites were given the book of Deuteronomy, a divinely inspired reminder of how to live and govern their society after their exodus from Egypt, we too need constant recall to prevent our spiritual journey from becoming a forgotten tale. The longer we drift from the moment of our spiritual rebirth, the more susceptible we become to the distractions and temptations of the world, which can obscure the path God has laid out for us. To effectively remember our story, we must perpetually recall that its genesis lies with God, our inherent sinfulness, and His sovereign act of salvation that rescued us from ourselves.

Remembering our story is an exercise in profound humility and awe. It begins with acknowledging God as the source of all things, inspiring a deep reverence for His greatness and prompting a heartfelt response to His unwavering goodness. This remembrance also necessitates a stark confrontation with our own fallen nature, recognizing that despite our sin, God’s sovereignty reached out and saved us. Accepting Christ marks the beginning of a lifelong journey that demands continuous recommitment. The myriad distractions and temptations of life can easily cloud our spiritual vision, necessitating a constant rediscovery and reaffirmation of our devotion to Him.

Ultimately, to follow Christ is to actively emulate His compassion, His boundless love, and His selfless actions. The parable of the Good Samaritan serves as a poignant reminder of this divine imperative: God calls us to remember our personal stories of transformation and, in doing so, to extend care and love to those in need, rather than walking by in indifference like the priest. The church, as the collective body of Christ, must continually recall its humble beginnings and the transformative power of God’s love that brought it into existence. Only by genuinely remembering and internalizing this story can it truly reflect Jesus in its actions, extending His love and compassion to a world desperately in need.

¹⁵ When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.” ¹⁶ He said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.” ¹⁷ He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. ¹⁸ Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.” ¹⁹ (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after saying this he said to him, “Follow me.”

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), John 21:15-19.

As children, the thought of disappointing a parent, especially a mother, could be profoundly unsettling. The moment of being “caught” often brought with it a wave of dread, the knowledge that the conversation to come would be etched with her disappointment, a feeling that could truly crush one’s spirit. It is an inherent truth that the people we love most are those we least wish to let down. Yet, despite our best intentions, we invariably falter, letting down friends and family. In these moments, the path back to a healthy relationship invariably involves the arduous, yet essential, work of reconciliation. This profound human experience mirrors a powerful divine narrative: Peter’s denials of Jesus, a betrayal that seemed to strip away his very identity, only to be met with a loving, restorative encounter that redefined his purpose.

Peter’s public betrayal, denying Jesus thrice on the night of his arrest, was a profound fall, seemingly reverting him to the impulsive “Simon” he was before his transformative encounter with Christ. It was into this deep shame that Jesus stepped, meeting Peter on a beach with a simple meal. Peter, undoubtedly relieved yet burdened by guilt, likely braced himself for rebuke. Instead, Jesus initiated a conversation marked by tenderness and profound understanding. He did not scold directly but gently prodded, not with accusations but with a repeated inquiry into the very core of their relationship: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” By calling him “Simon” rather than “Peter,” Jesus subtly acknowledged the fall from his transformed identity, hinting at the need for restoration to the “rock” he was destined to be. The focus was never on Peter’s failure but on his capacity for love—the supreme requirement for his future office and essential qualification for service. This encounter teaches us that divine reconciliation doesn’t demand penance or grill us over mistakes; it simply invites us to remember the foundational call to love God, and, by extension, our neighbor. Jesus has already paid the price; our return is to embrace the transformation He offers.

The words of Christ, far from accusing, serve to reconnect us with our true purpose and mission. In an act of unparalleled trust, Jesus, having forgiven Peter, entrusted him with the most valuable treasure on earth: His flock. Peter’s vexation at the third repetition of the question was not resentment, but a sign of genuine contrition and deep sorrow, echoing the bitter weeping he experienced after his denial. This grief was evidence of a contrite heart, wounds only Jesus could truly heal. The culminating command, “Follow me,” was more than a simple invitation; it was a powerful reaffirmation of Peter’s discipleship and a renewed call to commit wholeheartedly to Christ’s service. This implied a deeper commitment, including a readiness to suffer and “take up his cross” by mirroring Jesus’ own example. Having been restored and humbled, Peter was now truly ready to fulfill his earlier, premature promise of unwavering loyalty, even unto death. This reaffirmation of faith reminds us that we are infinitely more than the sum of our mistakes; Jesus desires a deep, connected love that transcends shame and empowers us for His mission.

Our love for Christ finds its truest expression not in words, traditions, or values alone, but in our actions—specifically, in how we extend love to one another, to the poor, and even to our enemies. Each of Peter’s professions of love was met with a clear directive for service: “Feed my lambs,” “Tend my sheep,” “Feed my sheep.” This unequivocally demonstrates that Peter’s love for his Lord was to be made manifest in his care for the Lord’s flock, a task achievable only through a primary connection to Christ’s love, flowing outward to nourish others. The ultimate act of following Christ, Jesus revealed, is intimately linked to suffering and martyrdom. By predicting Peter’s death, Jesus underscored that true love and submission extend even to laying down one’s life in service and for God’s glory, fulfilling Peter’s earlier, premature promise only after he had been strengthened by the resurrection. It is not merely through action, but profoundly through suffering, that the saints glorify God. Our proclamation of love for God, articulated in worship, must then translate into tangible service in the world, embodying the Gospel’s message of a God who empowers us to love, rather than to judge or accuse.

The journey toward reconciliation with God, if initiated by our own desire to “get right,” is destined to fail. No amount of human effort, knowledge, or self-improvement can bridge the chasm created by our imperfections. It is solely through God’s infinite love that reconciliation is even conceivable. So much of life is consumed by attempts at self improvement, through self-help doctrines or relentless learning. Yet, in the grand scheme of God’s boundless love, these efforts often prove to be vanity, leaving a pervasive emptiness. I once spent years pursuing knowledge and degrees, convinced they held the key to self-betterment, only to find myself unable to truly answer the fundamental question, “Do you love me?” It was a humble lesson, one perhaps reminiscent of a mother’s wisdom, that reminded me: while the world may honor academic accolades, and theological education is valuable, true fulfillment comes not from what I know, but from the saving act of Jesus, and my faith is defined by my willingness to feed sheep, tend lambs, and genuinely love people. Only in these acts do I truly affirm, “Yes, Lord, I love you.”

We have a fixation with time. Not that it is a negative thing, but even throughout our weeks we have schedules that we strive to live by. Our church services begin at a certain time, and we expect them to end by a set time. However, there are some of us that when things get off schedule we struggle. I am going to admit something that would certainly not come as a surprise to most that I do not care to abide by a strict schedule. This openness allows me some great open space for spontaneous activities; however, in some situations it also causes me to find myself in some precarious situations where I have to operate on limited sleep. When you are young this seemingly never catches up to you, but as we age, our bodies need more rest. Time after all is not something that we have an unlimited supply. Jesus was well aware that the time was ticking away, and He started explaining this to the disciples that remained about His remaining time with them. However, the part that tripped them up the most was about His description of time. However, Jesus redirected their query about how long a little while is, to what they should be doing for that little while.

16 “A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me.” 17 So some of his disciples said to one another, “What is this that he says to us, ‘A little while, and you will not see me, and again a little while, and you will see me’; and, ‘because I am going to the Father’?” 18 So they were saying, “What does he mean by ‘a little while’? We do not know what he is talking about.” 19 Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him, so he said to them, “Is this what you are asking yourselves, what I meant by saying, ‘A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me’? 20 Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy. 21 When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. 22 So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. 23 In that day you will ask nothing of me. Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask of the Father in my name, he will give it to you. 24 Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full. 

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Jn 16:16–24.

The finite nature of time is a fundamental aspect of human existence. While schedules and plans are indispensable for navigating daily life, it’s vital to maintain a perspective that cherishes the preciousness of fleeting moments. Jesus himself exemplified this awareness during his earthly ministry, knowing his time with his disciples was limited. His poignant use of the phrase “a little while” served not to emphasize the duration of his impending absence, but rather to underscore the profound importance and impact of his presence with them. This understanding encourages a conscious effort to be present and value the interactions and experiences that shape our lives, recognizing that each moment is unique and irretrievable. By balancing necessary structure with an appreciation for the ephemeral, we can cultivate a richer, more meaningful engagement with the present.

Jesus offered his disciples a powerful promise: though they would inevitably experience sorrow and grief during his absence, this pain would not be permanent. He assured them that their joy would be restored through the boundless love and unfailing guidance of God. A key element in this restoration of joy lies in approaching God in Jesus’ name. This act of “asking in His name” is not a mere formula, but a profound expression of faith, acknowledging Jesus’ divine authority and his role as mediator. It signifies a deep reliance on God’s will and a desire for His glory. This promise reassures believers that even in times of profound loss and sadness, the pathway to renewed joy is accessible through a heartfelt connection with God, rooted in the understanding of His love and His preparedness to provide for us.

A significant aspect of Jesus’ teachings revolves around the importance of living in the present moment and discerning one’s purpose, rather than becoming consumed by anxieties about the future or abstract speculations about time and its conclusion. He consistently reminded his followers that suffering, though a real and often painful part of the human experience, is ultimately temporary. Joy, he promised, would eventually return, supplanting the sorrow. This perspective encourages a shift in focus from the weight of current hardships to the anticipation of future restoration and the active pursuit of God-given purpose in the here and now. By concentrating on present responsibilities and listening intently to His guidance, individuals can find meaning and navigate difficulties with a hopeful outlook, trusting in the eventual return of joy.

The transformative power of encountering Christ turns transient sorrow into an enduring, eternal joy, empowering believers to embrace and fulfill their divine calling through the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit. This spiritual transformation reframes life’s struggles; while human efforts and worldly achievements are inherently temporary, the work accomplished through God’s guidance and power has eternal significance. The pain and suffering endured “for a little while,” whether in the pursuit of significant athletic achievements or through profound spiritual trials, can ultimately lead to deep joy and meaningful transformation. Jesus’ promise underscores that while sorrow is a temporary visitor, the empowering and sanctifying presence of the Holy Spirit is an eternal and life-altering reality, urging believers to persevere through temporary struggles and remain steadfast in their calling to make disciples, knowing that God’s work transcends the limitations of time.