Have you seen those Progressive car insurance ads where Dr. Rick helps people not become like their parents? I get a kick out of them because every day I find myself becoming more and more like my parents. I’ll do something completely out of nowhere and think, “Wow, that was just like my dad.”

Those Progressive ads are actually helpful to me because I’m not always sure which things I do are “parent things.” I saw one the other day with a man sitting in the back of an Uber correcting the app’s directions and telling the driver a better way to go. I saw that and thought, “Oh, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to do that. I thought I was being helpful!”

Rarely has an Uber driver actually listened to me. And when they did… it didn’t always turn out so great.

Have you ever done that? Just me?

Maybe you’ve never done that with your Uber driver, but we often do the exact same thing with God. It goes something like this: “Sure, God, I see that you’re telling me to go this direction, act this way, or do this thing… but I think I know a better way.”

Thinking I know a better way than my Uber driver is probably a bad idea. Thinking I know a better way than God is a much worse one.

This Sunday, we’re continuing our study through 1 Thessalonians, and we’re going to discover that God has given us a way to walk. His way is simple. It’s beautiful. It’s better. And sometimes, it’s really hard.

But what if the life God is calling you to live isn’t about figuring out the way for yourself? What if he’s already shown you the way, and the invitation is simply to trust him enough to walk in it?

It’s great to be back this week, and I’d love for you to join us for worship tomorrow as we talk about what it means to follow God’s way when we’re convinced ours might be better.

When I was growing up, martial arts movies were all the rage. If it wasn’t Fist of Fury or The Kung Fu Shaolin Master, it was Drunken Master, Enter the Dragon, or quirky classics like Snake in the Monkey’s Shadow.

A familiar storyline ran through almost every one of these films: a novice, crushed by opponents, seeks out a legendary master to learn how to fight back. Often, the student arrives driven by anger, impatience, and a thirst for revenge.

Whenever the master takes them in, the training is never what the apprentice expects. Instead of advanced combat techniques, the student is assigned mundane chores—sweeping the courtyard, cutting grass, or carrying heavy buckets of water up the mountain. Frustration inevitably boils over: "I came here to become a master, but all you've made me do is chop bamboo!" Some walk away bitter, convinced their time was wasted. Those who stay, however, discover something remarkable: the mundane work was the training all along. 

They were no longer ruled by reckless anger. They had developed discipline, stamina, and self-control. Most importantly, their strength was no longer meant for petty revenge, but to protect and serve others. 

The parallel to our walk with Christ is striking. 
We often come to the Master with our own blueprints and timelines for how life should go. When God leads us through seasons of routine tasks, patient waiting, or unexpected trials, our human reaction is to doubt, complain, or grow weary. 

We may not always understand the training while we are in the middle of it, but when we surrender our plans to Him, God uses every season to shape our character and secure the victory. It rarely looks like what we initially imagined, it’s His way, because He is the Way. 

Join us this Sunday as we gather to be comforted, challenged, and instructed in God's Word by the greatest Master of all: Jesus, who walked the walk and showed us the way.

More than a generation ago, some missionaries went to a little place in South Africa and shared the gospel. Like most missionaries, they were simply trying to be faithful, and somewhere along the way, the grandparents of a young man named Shaun Pillay heard the good news and believed.

Shaun grew up in South Africa as a third-generation Christian. He eventually went into ministry himself, studying at Durban Bible College and the University of Zululand before serving as a youth and missions pastor in Durban.

But God did something interesting in 2005. While attending a conference in Birmingham, England, Shaun heard about the need for missionaries in the United States.

For generations, American Christians had raised money and sent missionaries around the world. Missionaries had traveled to places like South Africa because there were people there who needed to hear about Jesus.

Now, a Christian from South Africa was hearing that America needed missionaries, and Shaun answered the call.

A few years later, Shaun and his wife, Deshni, moved to New England and planted Cornerstone City Church in Norwich, Connecticut. Shaun would go on to spend years helping plant churches and develop leaders throughout Connecticut and Rhode Island.

And now, God has brought the story full circle. Shaun Pillay is serving as the Send City Missionary for Boston, helping churches and church planters reach one of the least-churched regions in the United States.

Those missionaries in South Africa couldn't possibly have known where their faithfulness would lead. They couldn't have known that one day the gospel they preached would make its way through a family, across generations, across an ocean, and eventually all the way to Boston.

While I’m out of town, you have the privilege of hearing from Shaun. You will be blessed, encouraged, and challenged by him. I pray you’ll join us this week!

Several years ago, my wife Allie and I took a trip to San Francisco. One of the things I had always wanted to see was the giant redwoods, so we crossed the Golden Gate and explored Muir Woods.

Since elementary school, I had heard about the majesty of these trees. Some redwoods can reach over 300 feet into the air, with trunks so massive it takes multiple people holding hands to reach around them.

While at Muir Woods, I learned something fascinating about redwoods and forest fires. Their thick bark helps protect them from fire, which means they can not only survive many fires but actually benefit from them. Fire clears competing vegetation, returns nutrients to the soil, and can create conditions that encourage new growth.

For generations, Indigenous people intentionally used controlled burns to care for the land. Later, aggressive fire suppression became common. The irony is that trying to protect forests from every fire can actually harm the growth of the redwoods.

Turns out that protecting something from every hardship can actually harm it.
This week we're going to see something similar in Paul's love for the Thessalonian church. They were experiencing serious persecution, and Paul cared deeply about their suffering. But his primary concern wasn't simply getting them out of it. He sent Timothy to strengthen and encourage their faith so they could stand firm through it.

The fires in our lives are absolutely no fun. But sometimes the loving thing isn't immediately putting out the fire. Sometimes it's standing beside someone and helping them become stronger through it.

If you're going through a fire right now, or trying to help someone who is, join us tomorrow as we talk about how to know when love should put the fire out and when love needs to let it burn.

I’ll be honest: when I was in history class, I usually thought the most important question was, "Is this going to be on the test?" But as I got older, I realized history isn't just about memorizing dates and names; it’s about understanding people. And one story from the fourth century shows us something powerful about the impact of a life lived differently.

In the fourth century, the Roman emperor Julian - often called Julian the Apostate because he abandoned the Christian faith and attempted to restore paganism as the religion of the Roman Empire - set out to reverse the growing influence of Christianity. Yet despite his efforts, he became frustrated by the church's continued growth. In one of his letters to a pagan priest, Julian complained that Christians "support not only their own poor, but ours as well."

Julian realized that while pagan temples struggled to inspire generosity, Christians were caring for widows, orphans, the sick, and anyone else in need, regardless of whether they shared their faith. Ironically, one of Christianity's greatest critics became an unwitting witness to its power. The way believers loved and served one another gave credibility to the gospel they proclaimed.

This Sunday, we'll continue our study of 1st Thessalonians and we'll examine the ways that Paul lived among the Thessalonians gave credibility to the gospel he proclaimed.  My prayer is that our lives and our love for one another will do the same today!

I can’t wait to worship with you this Sunday!

The Red Sox are doing it again. They’re giving me hope.
I’m not sure how closely you follow baseball, but the Red Sox started this season with one of the worst records in baseball. It was so bad they fired their longtime manager, Alex Cora. And just my luck, for the first time in my New England life, I decided to bite the bullet and pay for NESN so the family could enjoy some baseball. Instead, we went to bed devastated night after night from loss upon loss.
Then something changed.
I’m not sure if it was the arrival of the Tartan Army or a pep talk from Big Papi, but they turned it around. As I’m writing this, they’ve won 14 straight games and are chasing a franchise record of 15. At their lowest point, their playoff chances were in the single digits. Now they’re sitting around a 65% chance to make the postseason!
It’s finally fun to watch Boston baseball again! And thanks to The 99 Restaurant, the Red Sox have once again become the leading cause of childhood obesity (If you don’t know, kids eat free at The 99 every time the Sox win).
As much fun as this run has been, the Red Sox can’t give lasting hope. In fact, they’re almost guaranteed to disappoint me eventually. But it’s not just baseball. We often put our hope in things that were never meant to carry it: money, success, power, control, relationships, even our own plans. They all promise more than they can deliver.
Tomorrow, we begin a new series in the book of 1 Thessalonians. Paul wrote this letter to a church facing real hardship, yet they were filled with a hope that couldn’t be shaken. Their confidence wasn’t built on circumstances getting better. It was anchored in Jesus Christ.
If you could use that kind of hope, I’d love for you to join us as we begin our journey through 1 Thessalonians.

The Pony Express is one of those romantic pieces of Americana. I picture cowboys racing across the frontier at full speed, carrying saddlebags full of letters through deserts, mountains, and dangerous territory.

The Pony Express was created because it took so long for mail to travel across the country. A letter from New York to California could take weeks or even months to arrive. The Pony Express guaranteed delivery in just ten days. It cost $5 to send a single letter, which is more than $150 in today's money.

What surprised me is that the Pony Express only lasted 18 months. I always assumed it operated for decades! Why did it disappear so quickly? Because about a year and a half after it began, a little invention called the telegraph changed everything. For about the same price, a message could travel in minutes rather than days. The Pony Express couldn't compete.

The messengers changed, but the message kept moving.

Tomorrow we'll finish our journey through the book of Acts. Paul finally arrives in Rome, but something becomes clear almost immediately: Luke isn't writing a biography of Paul. He's telling the story of Jesus continuing to build His church. Paul would eventually die, but the gospel wouldn't. The messenger would change, but the message would keep moving.
That's how the gospel reached you.

It crossed oceans, outlasted empires, survived persecution, and passed through countless ordinary men and women who faithfully shared the good news of Jesus with the next person. The story didn't end with Paul, and it doesn't end with us.

Join us tomorrow as we discover why the final chapter of Acts is really an invitation to continue the story.

My junior year of high school was spent at a very conservative Christian school. Along with the normal school rules came a very strict dress code. Girls wore ankle-length skirts and had to keep their hair long. Boys wore khakis and tucked-in button-up shirts. Our hair couldn't touch our ears or our collars.
 
These weren't just rules on paper. After chapel, teachers stood at the exits inspecting everyone's uniforms and hair. If your hair touched your ears or collar, you had until the next morning to get it cut or you'd receive a demerit.
The rules didn't stop there. Even on the middle school retreat, the boys swam in pants, and the girls swam in ankle-length skirts.
 
It wasn't just about clothing either. Rock and rap music were considered completely ungodly, whether the lyrics were Christian or not. That was a problem for me because my entire identity revolved around punk rock and emo music. If the school found out I listened to Christian punk music, it was grounds for automatic expulsion.
 
Looking back, what strikes me isn't the dress code or the music policy. It's how easy it is for people to add rules on top of what God actually requires. Somehow, we have a tendency to confuse our preferences with God's commands.
The early church faced that very temptation.
 
This Sunday we'll look at one of the most important moments in the book of Acts. A group of sincere Jewish Christians began telling Gentile believers that faith in Jesus wasn't enough, they also needed to follow the Jewish law if they truly wanted to belong to God's family.
 
Thankfully, Paul, Barnabas, Peter, and James understood what was at stake. The freedom we enjoy in Christ today was defended at this first church council in Jerusalem.
 
I hope you'll join us this Sunday as we discover why Jesus is enough, why we must never add to the gospel, and how grace frees us to love one another.

The Narnia series is a classic. In fact, another Narnia movie is set to hit theaters in early 2027. While a lot of people know the classic story of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, that’s where their knowledge of the series ends. But the book series has so many great stories!
 
My favorite as a kid was The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It’s an adventure story that leaves the shores of Narnia in search of seven exiled lords. What’s so interesting about it is that it’s not one continuous narrative, but several stories strung together by a single voyage. They go from island to island finding new adventures and problems to solve. It’s a high-seas fantasy version of the literary “Road Narrative.” Other stories that fit this genre are The Odyssey and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn… and tomorrow’s passage in Acts.
 
This Sunday we’re going to get our own biblical version of the road narrative as we follow the adventures of Paul and Barnabas on their first missionary journey. We’ll encounter sorcery, conflict, and danger as they seek to take the gospel to new places.
 
This week’s sermon will look a little different than most, but I think it’s going to be a lot of fun. And besides, it’s good to switch it up occasionally.
 
Join us tomorrow for Beyond the Door of Faith, an epic high-seas adventure (That really happened) through Acts 13–14!

This is a universal husband experience. So much so that there are probably thousands of memes about it.
 
My wife can tell me exactly where something is in the house. She knows when it got there, who put it there, and how I should go about finding it. Then I go looking... and it's nowhere to be found.
 
Eventually, I ask for help. She'll look at me sideways and disappointedly say, "If I come in there and find it, you're going to be in trouble."
 
Then she walks into the room, reaches into the exact spot I already looked three times, and somehow the item magically appears. I still don't know how she does it.
 
Somehow, I'm incredibly close to what I'm looking for, yet I'm completely missing it.
 
This week in Acts 10, we'll meet two men who are closer to the truth than they realize. Peter has walked with Jesus, seen the resurrection, and been filled with the Holy Spirit, yet he's still missing something right in front of him. Cornelius is moral, generous, devout, and sincerely seeking God, yet he's missing something too.
 
Both men are closer than they think, but neither has the whole picture.
 
The truth is, we all have blind spots. Sometimes the thing we're missing is sitting right in front of us.
 
Join us this Sunday as we discover what Peter missed, what Cornelius needed, and what God wants all of us to see.

Years ago, I was in a punk band. One weekend we drove to Atlanta to play a show. The whole trip was a disaster. Our hotel reservation was canceled and we didn't have enough money for another one, a couple of the cars had mechanical problems, and the show itself was a train wreck.
 
Finally, the fiasco weekend was over, and it was time to drive home. As the leader of the band, I was naturally the lead car.
 
I pulled onto the interstate heading north and began cruising. North seemed a little weird to me, because I lived south of Atlanta, but interstates are weird. You can be going north while actually heading south. I ignored my gut for an hour and a half.
 
Now, this was before smartphones. Google Maps came from a printer, and as a broke college student I couldn't afford one of those fancy TomTom GPS units.
 
Then I saw the sign, "Chattanooga Tennessee - 45 Miles." Panic set in. I was supposed to be heading to South Carolina, and I was on my way to the River City of Tennessee. Let’s just say, that’s the exact wrong direction.
 
I immediately pulled over and had to make a confession to everyone following me: "I've been driving the wrong direction for the last hour and a half." It was humiliating, and I hated every moment. Everyone was so mad at me, but we turned around and began going the right way.
 
Maybe you know the feeling. That sinking sensation when you realize you've been confidently moving in the wrong direction. Maybe it was a wrong decision, a wrong assumption, a wrong relationship, or a wrong belief. Whatever it was, there comes a moment when reality catches up to you and you have to admit: I was wrong.
 
Most of us don't like that moment. We avoid it, defend against it, explain it away, or double down rather than admit it.
But one of the surprising lessons from Acts 9 is that following Jesus often begins when we finally admit we're wrong.
This Sunday we're going to meet two men named Saul and Ananias. Both believed they were right, both had deeply held beliefs and assumptions… and both men were wrong.
 
The difference wasn't that they got everything right. The difference was what they did when God showed them they were wrong. They changed.
 
That's good news for people like us. Thankfully, being wrong isn't our biggest problem. Refusing to admit it is.
 
This Sunday we'll see how Jesus transforms a church, a city, and eventually the world through two people who were willing to let him correct their direction. And if we're honest, that's something every one of us needs.
 
Oh yeah! And tomorrow is Father’s Day. Let’s celebrate our dads with a meal after church. It’s going to be amazing!

This week I am out of town preaching a teen summer camp in South Carolina. As you read this, I am probably psyching myself up to endure 100º days and preparing to fight for my life on a bed made from strawy and rusty springs. I keep reminding myself it’s all for Jesus. And like Paul, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Pray please.
 
While I’m away, some of you may be tempted to take a Sunday away. Please don’t. One of the joys of being part of the body of Christ is learning from faithful believers whom God has been using in unique ways, and tomorrow we have the privilege of doing just that.
 
The elders of Arborway Community Church want to extend a warm welcome to Kim Findlay. Kim lives just outside of Boston with her family and has spent more than twenty years serving as a writer, speaker, and ministry leader. Throughout her ministry, she has been passionate about helping people see the goodness of God and develop an enduring faith in Jesus Christ.
 
You may know Kim through her writing. She is the author of two books, including Breathing in Ashes, a deeply personal memoir that reflects on the tragic loss of her youngest daughter and her journey of wrestling with God's goodness in the midst of profound suffering.
 
She has also written curriculum for Big Idea Productions (the folks behind VeggieTales) and David C. Cook publishing. You can also find her articles in numerous Christian publications.
 
What I appreciate most about Kim's ministry is her commitment to weaving together Scripture and real-life stories in a way that encourages people to fix their eyes on Jesus and trust Him through every season of life.
 
We're grateful that she's able to speak for us tomorrow. I pray that you will join us tomorrow for worship and be blessed as Kim brings a word of encouragement from Acts 8.

Do you remember Magic Eye pictures? If you grew up in the ’90s, there’s no way you didn’t encounter them. They were everywhere. I remember they were even included in the Sunday edition of our local newspaper.
 
If you don’t know what a Magic Eye is, they’re officially called stereograms. They’re 2D images that, when you look at them just right, suddenly become 3D. Each Magic Eye contained a hidden shape or object. It might be a unicorn, a baseball player, or something equally random. The trick was getting the image to pop and holding it long enough to figure out what you were actually looking at. Were you ever able to make them work?
 
The first Magic Eye book had the tagline, “A new way of looking at the world.” And it’s true. It was a new, headache-inducing way to see the world.
 
This week, we’re going to explore the life of a man who saw the world differently. His name was Stephen. Stephen lived with his eyes fixed on Jesus, and because of that, he navigated the world differently than everyone around him. We’ll see how Stephen’s vision of Jesus gave him the courage to die for his faith and became part of God’s plan to launch the church out of Jerusalem and into the rest of the world.
 
I’d love for you to join us tomorrow as we discover a new way of looking at the world, and how that vision can shape our lives in beautiful and life-changing ways.
 
Plus, it’s the first Sunday of June, which means we’ll be celebrating communion together. I hope you’ll join us.

Have you seen the new Instagram Instants? They’re uncurated snapshots of life, and all the kids are using them. What I find funny about them is that they’re the complete opposite of what Instagram was originally built on.
 
If you remember, Instagram started as the artsy alternative to Facebook. You were supposed to take pictures from interesting angles and drench them in filters. We were all out trying to capture the perfect shot of our exploits, from the perfect angle, with the perfect people, and the perfect pose.
 
Instants are meant to capture life without filters or preparation. Just snap a picture of your life and share it. It’s all about authenticity.
 
Millennials like me love a well-shot photo, but Gen Z tends to make fun of curated Instagram feeds. They know that the moment before that picture was taken, everyone was probably acting crazy or miserable… maybe both. Dad was yelling. Mom was crying. The kids were screaming. The Gram looked great, but it wasn’t authentic.
 
And this cycle just keeps perpetuating itself. Because when I see your perfectly curated vacation photos, suddenly I need some of my own! So I go to the spot, not necessarily to enjoy the spot itself, but so I can post a picture from THE spot. There are entire industries built around this idea.
 
Even discipleship and faith aren’t immune.
 
We’ve all probably seen the girl with her journal, coffee, and perfectly highlighted Bible open, posting a verse about her sweet time with the Lord. Or the guy sitting around a campfire, smoking cigars and drinking whiskey with “great men of faith.”
 
The reality is more mundane. Everyone’s life is some mixture of great, good, bad, and terrible. Social media can make it feel like everyone else has it all together, but we all have hard days.
 
I once heard someone say that social media is driving us crazy because, “You’re comparing your behind-the-scenes to everyone else’s highlight reel.”
 
This week, we’re looking at a couple named Ananias and Sapphira who started playing the comparison game, and it ended terribly for them. They gave the appearance of holiness without the sacrifice of holiness, and it cost them their lives.
 
This Sunday, we’re going to talk about what it means to live authentically as a Christian. Christianity is not about having the holiest-looking Instagram feed, saying the right Christian words, or curating a polished spiritual image.
 
It’s about honestly bringing your broken self before Jesus, trusting what He accomplished through the cross and resurrection, and allowing Him to transform you over time.
 
I hope you’ll join us this Sunday.

Have you ever had that dreaded text come through? You know the one. The text you were expecting, but hoping would never actually arrive. Maybe it was about a relationship, bad news, or something you’d been trying to avoid. How do you respond? Do you freeze?
 
I know I freeze sometimes. I’ll see the text come through, read the first few words, and leave it sitting in my inbox. Because if I open it, they’ll see I’ve read it, and honestly, I’m not ready to deal with it yet. So, I leave it there with that little blue dot beside it and promise myself I’ll come back later. I’m not proud of it, but sometimes days pass before I respond.
 
Now, to be fair, maybe I need a few minutes to think through a coherent response. Maybe it’s late and the text can wait until morning. But let’s be honest: I don’t need days. I’m usually just delaying the inevitable.
We all know what it’s like to freeze. Peter did too.
 
One night, around a campfire, Peter got a dreaded question from a servant girl while Jesus was on trial and heading toward the cross. “Weren’t you with Jesus?” Peter froze. He fumbled. And eventually, he denied even knowing Jesus.
 
But somehow, that same Peter becomes one of the boldest witnesses for Christ the world has ever seen.
 
Just weeks after freezing, he stood in Jerusalem, the very city where Jesus had been crucified and publicly preached that Jesus had risen from the dead. The people who killed Jesus could’ve easily turned on Peter too. But the man who once froze around a campfire now boldly proclaimed Christ in the streets.
What changed? That’s exactly what we’re going to look at this Sunday as we continue our series through Acts.
 
Because we all live in a culture where being open about our faith can feel uncomfortable. It can be hard to speak up. Hard to stand out. Hard to be bold.
 
But Acts shows us something surprising: Boldness isn’t a personality trait reserved for extroverts. It’s not natural confidence or charisma. Boldness is a gift God gives ordinary people through the power of the Holy Spirit.
 
I can’t wait to worship with you this Sunday!

Before Apple and Android were battling for smartphone domination, Nokia reigned supreme. I still remember the first time I saw a Nokia phone. It felt like magic.
 
That thing was sweet. It’s clear case allowed you to see all the internals, it flashed different colors when it rang, and you could send these revolutionary things called “text messages.” But beyond the coolness was an ability that almost seemed like magic: it was indestructible. I immediately got one when I turned 18.
 
Eventually I upgraded phones, and while I can’t remember what happened to it, it’s most likely still functioning somewhere on earth today. Modern smartphones need thick protective cases just to survive a 3-foot drop. Meanwhile, a Nokia could fall off the Pru, crack the sidewalk, and still have three bars of service. Rumor has it Boston may start lining the sinking parts of Back Bay with old Nokia phones to stabilize the foundation.
 
I’m not entirely sure how they did it, but against all odds, those little plastic bricks were unstoppable.
 
Ok, weird detour, I know. But I promise this has something to do with Acts 2.
The early church was a little like a Nokia phone. It was unstoppable. And honestly, it doesn’t make sense on paper. The Apostles were fishermen, tradesmen, a political activist, and a tax collector. It sounds less like the beginning of a world-changing movement and more like the setup for a bad joke.
 
And listen, those are respectable jobs. But if you and I were assembling the “Gospel Avengers,” we probably wouldn’t have picked those guys.
 
Yet somehow, this ragtag group of mostly uneducated Galileans became the catalyst for the most influential movement in human history. By all accounts, Christianity should have disappeared a few years after Jesus’ crucifixion. Instead, 2,000 years later, we’re still feeling the effects of their ministry.
 
So what happened? How did this tiny movement become unstoppable?
 
Tomorrow we’re going to look at Acts 2 and uncover the explosive secret behind the launch of the church, and why that same power still matters today.
 
I hope you will join us for worship!

It’s not uncommon for a dynamic leader to leave a company or movement and see everything fall to pieces.
 
Steve Jobs co-founded Apple with Steve Wozniak in the garage of Jobs’ parents. What started as a small startup would eventually become one of the largest companies in the world. But the road there wasn’t exactly smooth.
 
In 1985, Steve Jobs was fired from the company he helped create after major disagreements with Apple’s leadership. At first, Apple survived without him. But over time, the company began to lose its innovative edge. Roughly a decade later, Apple was nearing collapse and desperately trying to rediscover its identity. In one of the greatest comeback stories in business history, Apple rehired Jobs as CEO, and the company was completely transformed.
 
That pattern is common. A visionary leader leaves, and eventually the movement loses momentum.
 
Which makes Christianity so strange.
 
Around 2,000 years ago, Jesus ascended into heaven, leaving behind a small group of ordinary followers with no political power, no wealth, and no influence. Most people probably assumed the movement would slowly disappear.
 
Instead, it exploded across the world.
 
Why?
 
Because Jesus didn’t abandon His mission when He ascended. Unlike Steve Jobs leaving Apple, Jesus never stopped leading His church. He still rules, reigns, and works through His people today. When Jesus sent the church into the world, he didn’t send us alone, he sent us with his Spirit and his power.
 
That’s why the church is unstoppable.
This Sunday we’re launching a brand-new 10-week series through the book of Acts called The Church Unstoppable. Together we’ll discover how the risen Jesus continued His mission through ordinary people empowered by the Holy Spirit, and how He’s still doing it today.
 
Plus, you won’t want to miss our Mother’s Day celebration and baby dedication. See you Sunday!

This week I was struck by an interview I watched with former Nebraska senator Ben Sasse. Ben Sasse was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer in December. He likely has only weeks or months to live. In these final days, he has done some heart-wrenching and inspiring interviews. Recently, Scott Pelley from 60 Minutes sat down with him and discussed politics, family, faith, and his diagnosis.

Toward the end of the interview, Scott asked Ben about his Christian faith. You might assume that a man with a family and so much potential would be angry at God about a diagnosis like this. But his answers were stunning.

He said he’s “super bummed” that he won’t be around for his family—but he also said they’ll be okay without him. In his words, they’re “rockstars.” Then Scott asked, “But it’s not a surprise to God? And God, you believe, has a plan?” Ben responded, profoundly and without hesitation, “Absolutely. There are no maverick molecules in the universe.”

How can Ben Sasse have that kind of unwavering faith and courage in the face of his approaching death? Because he knows this isn’t the end. At the risk of putting it too lightly, this is just a bump in the road. Cancer may be his reality today, but his future is resurrection.

For me, it was another powerful reminder of how central the resurrection is to the Christian life.

This Sunday, we’re closing out our series on the resurrection by looking at the end of time and our future bodily resurrection. We’ll see three powerful ways from the book of Daniel how it gives us hope in life’s darkest days.

A few years ago, Allie and I took a trip to San Francisco. While we didn’t make it to Alcatraz itself, we did go to the gift shop! They had some real cute stuffed bears in prison clothes.

Built in the 1930s, Alcatraz was surrounded by frigid water and strong currents, and it was marketed as an inescapable prison. For decades, it lived up to that reputation. Dozens of prisoners tried to escape, and every one of them was either caught or died trying.

But in 1962, three men, Frank Morris and brothers John and Clarence Anglin, attempted the impossible.

For nearly a year, they schemed. Using spoons, they dug tunnels through the concrete walls of their cells, hiding the holes with painted cardboard and masking the noise with music. But escaping their cells was only half the battle. The real problem was the bay. No one had ever made it across.

So they improvised. They stitched together more than fifty raincoats into a makeshift raft. On June 11, 1962, they escaped and disappeared into the darkness. The guards didn’t realize until the next morning because they had, get this, made dummy heads and placed them in their beds to delay detection.

To this day, no one really knows what happened. Some believe they drowned, but family members insist they made it (And The Myth Busters proved their escape was plausible). Honestly, we may never really know. But we’re drawn to stories where someone escapes the unescapable.

Christianity makes a far greater claim. It says that Jesus Christ walked out of the one prison no one can escape: death.

Colossians 3 takes it even further: “You have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” The claim is that if you belong to Christ, his story becomes your story!

This week, we’ll look at what that means. Not just that Jesus rose, but what it looks like to start living the escape story Jesus died and rose to give you.

 

Years ago, Rhett McLaughlin and Link Neal were some of my favorite YouTubers. My morning routine often included their show Good Mythical Morning. They were funny, clean, and, at the time, very open about their faith. They taught Sunday school, served in their churches, and even did mission work.
 
But in 2020 Rhett and Link publicly walked away from their faith. What happened?
 
It’s complicated, but at least part of it had to do with the foundation of their faith. Rhett has been pretty open about how questions surrounding evolution and a literal six-day creation played a big role in unraveling his faith. And that raises a really important question: should doubts about the timing of creation be strong enough to collapse your faith?
 
Let me be clear, asking hard questions is not the problem. Christians have wrestled with creation, Adam and Eve, the virgin birth, and all kinds of difficult passages for a long time. The problem isn’t that the questions exist. The problem is what our faith is anchored to when those questions come. Because if your faith is built on having every answer lined up, or on one specific interpretation of a difficult passage, then if that interpretation is wrong or shaky, your faith goes down with it.
 
The Bible is actually very clear. Christianity rises and falls on one decisive event: the resurrection of Jesus. If Jesus rose from the dead, our faith is secure. And if he didn’t? It’s game over.
 
We’re living in a moment where deconstruction stories are everywhere, and a lot of them follow the same pattern. A difficult question comes up, their framework can’t hold it, and then their faith collapses. But what if the problem isn’t the question? What if the problem is the foundation?
 
If you’re someone who’s wrestling with questions and doubt about your faith, I want you to know, you’re not wrong for asking questions. But don’t anchor your faith to something that can’t hold you.
 
Tomorrow we’re going to talk about what actually can. I hope you’ll join us at 10 AM.

The Lord has tested me with trials, so I asked Him to test me with wealth. And wouldn’t you know it, just a few days later, I checked my mail and found a letter from a long-lost relative. I had never heard of them before, and I’m not sure how they found me, but the letter looked official. I had to open it.

 I carefully peeled back the envelope, pulled out a tri-folded stack of papers, and started reading. As I went, I realized this previously unknown relative had included me in their will… and there was money involved. A lot of money.

Even $10,000 would be a welcome surprise. But this was different. I had inherited $5 million.

I almost fainted. That’s life-changing money. The kind that could impact generations if used wisely. So if you see me driving a fancy new car, you’ll know why.

Now, before you get too excited for me, let me come clean. I didn’t actually receive an inheritance. April fools? (It’s still April).

But I wish I had.
 
Because here’s the thing: even if I received that letter and wasn’t sure it was true, I know one thing, I would absolutely want it to be true. Because that kind of money would change my life.

That’s what the resurrection is like.

It’s like receiving a letter that says you’ve inherited something life-changing. You may not be completely convinced it’s true, but if you understood what’s being offered, you would want it to be true.

Every year we talk about the resurrection on Easter. But this year, we’re taking a few more weeks to explore what it really means. This Sunday, we’re looking at one of the biggest implications: how the resurrection saves us.

I hope you’ll join us for worship tomorrow. Because the resurrection isn’t just for Easter. It’s for every day of the Christian life.

Do you remember YOLO? It stands for “You Only Live Once.” The idea was simple: you only get one life, so live it up. Don’t miss anything. Do whatever you want, it’s your one shot.

Eventually YOLO gave way to FOMO, “Fear Of Missing Out.” Because if this life is all there is, then every missed opportunity feels final.

I’ve always thought YOLO was a little ironic. If you only live once… shouldn’t you be more careful? But I digress.

But here’s the deeper issue: YOLO assumes this material world is all there is. Once you’re gone, it’s over. You’re just food for worms. So you better experience everything you can while you can.

I get why people think that. Life is short, and somehow as you get older it feels like it keeps speeding up (Wasn’t it just Christmas a couple of days ago?).

But the resurrection has something to say about YOLO.

Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection tell us there is more to life than these 80 or so years. You see, if we really believe that he rose from the dead, we can’t keep living like this life is all we have.

Everything changes. It has to!

I’d love to invite you to join us for Easter tomorrow. We’re going to look at three destructive lies we believe, and how the hope of the resurrection completely shatters them. I pray you’ll join us at 10 AM tomorrow morning.

Of all the things we know about Jesus (his patience, compassion, love, care, and desire to heal), his table-flipping moment comes as a bit of a surprise.

Palm Sunday is when Jesus rode into Jerusalem to a parade of followers glorifying him. People are throwing down cloaks, waving branches, and shouting his name. It was a king's welcome. And where does King Jesus go first? Not a palace, where you’d expect a king to go. He goes to his Father’s house: the temple.

What he finds there is disturbing. He doesn’t find worship, but greed. People who came to worship were being gouged by merchants who overcharged them for required sacrifices. The whole system had turned rotten, and everyone had gotten used to it. But not Jesus.

He didn’t lose his temper; he was making a point… loudly. Tables go over, coins scatter, and the courtyard is chaos. But the chaos has a message: God was about to free the world from sacrificial worship.

What he came for would happen a few days later, on a cross. One final sacrifice that made the whole system irrelevant. Because the system was always pointing to the moment he offered himself as the final sacrifice on the cross. No more middlemen. No one trying to buy their way in. Just absolute trust in the sacrifice of Christ for true and eternal life.

Which reframes everything about the nature of worship. It's not a transaction. It's not showing up and hoping to get something. It's a response because, through Christ, you have already received something amazing.

The King who flipped the tables is the same one who gave his life. That's a lot to sit with heading into the week before Easter.

We'd love to have you with us this Palm Sunday. We’ll be diving deeper into this story and seeing how Christ’s plan truly changed the world.

Every few years, we’re told the same thing: This is the moment. This is the election. This is the movement that will finally fix things.
 
And to be fair, things can get better… and they can get worse. Not every candidate is equal in their morality or impact. Policies matter, systems can improve, and justice can move forward in real, meaningful ways.
 
But if we’re honest… something still isn’t right.
Because no matter who we elect or how much progress we seem to make, the same problems keep showing up. We continue to see corruption, division, injustice, and misuse of power. Even when we elect the people we think are good. Because even good people and good systems warp over time.
 
Why does this keep happening?
 
Most of us live inside what philosopher Charles Taylor calls “the immanent frame.” It’s a way of seeing the world where all the solutions are inside the system. If we can just get the right leaders, the right ideas, the right structures… we can fix what’s broken.
 
But what if our biggest problem isn’t our systems? What if the real problem is our hearts? No matter how many systems we fix, no system can fix the human heart.
 
That’s the tension Jesus exposes. When asked about eternal life, He doesn’t point first to systems or solutions (And if you think our systems are broken, the systems of ancient Rome were far more unjust). Instead, Jesus points to a cross-shaped life. He tells us to love God fully and love our neighbors deeply. It’s not either-or, but both-and.
 
Because the gospel doesn’t just address broken systems it addresses broken hearts. And that changes everything.
 
Christians should care deeply about justice. We should serve, love, and work for the good of our city. But don’t confuse our efforts with ultimate hope. Because the world doesn’t just need to be improved. It needs to be redeemed.
 
It needs someone from outside the system who is able to fix what’s really broken.
 
This Sunday, we’re talking about what it looks like to live a cross-shaped mission in a world that’s still broken and why Jesus offers something no system ever could.
 
I pray you’ll join us as we rethink what kind of savior we’re really looking for.

Bilbo Baggins is a wealthy hobbit who lives at the top of the Shire in Bag End. He has a cozy little life filled with doilies and fancy cheeses. His walls are lined with paintings of his relatives, and his cupboards are stocked with their dishware. The wildest thing Bilbo does is enjoy a little Old Toby pipe tobacco in his spare time.

Until one day a wizard named Gandalf shows up at his door looking for someone to share in an adventure. Bilbo isn’t interested.

In his own words, adventures are “nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things that make a person late for dinner.” He runs off, adamant that he wants nothing to do with adventures, locking the door firmly behind him.

That night, sent by Gandalf, a gang of dwarves arrives. Though Bilbo would prefer not to let them in, he doesn’t really have a choice. They make themselves right at home: putting their feet on the tables, eating his food, soiling his doilies, cracking his plates, and making the most disturbing noises.
Eventually Bilbo learns about the great adventure the dwarves are about to undertake. They try to recruit him, but he repeats that he wants nothing to do with adventures. Late that night he goes to bed, distraught over the state of his quaint little house.

But the next morning he wakes up and the dwarves are gone. It’s as if they were never there at all. Almost. A contract waiting for his signature sits on his table.

And in that moment Bilbo realizes something. His comfortable, predictable life suddenly feels small and meaningless. He grabs the contract, packs a bag, runs out the door, and shouts to the people of the Shire, “I’m going on an adventure!”

And what an adventure it is! There will be magic rings, dragons, elves, orcs, and wars. When Bilbo finally returns home, he’s still a hobbit… but he’s a hobbit who has been forever changed by the great adventure he went on.

Let’s face it: life can feel monotonous sometimes. We get stuck in the routines of everyday life. The same schedule. The same responsibilities. The same problems. And sometimes we can start to feel like Bilbo, living a boring or even meaningless life.

We could all use a little adventure.

Tomorrow we’re going to look at the call of Elisha and discover the great adventure God calls us into. If you’re feeling stuck, bored, purposeless, or some combination of all three, join us for worship tomorrow.

I can’t wait to tell you about the great adventure that awaits you… if you’re willing to go on it.