Eternity Church PodCast

A Sunday sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.We surprise ourselves with pain when we ignore the grace of lament. We close our ears to the voice of grief and suffering in a naïve hope that what's out of sight will remain out of mind. We read the Bible like a bouncing ball, alighting on the passages we find encouraging and rush past the others we find discouraging. We love to find ourselves with the Lord our Shepherd in green fields and beside still waters, saying, “I shall not want”; but what about when we find ourselves in the third of the psalms which cry out in lament? For every Psalm 23 there is a Psalm 88. Our optimism bias blinds us to reality in this life and leaves us confused when we suffer.It may seem a strange comfort, but I was greatly encouraged to read Walter C. Kaiser, one of the leading American theologians of our time, call out this trend in the Western church. He says that by avoiding the grace of lament “our own ability to find direction in the midst of calamity, pain, and suffering have been seriously truncated and rendered partially or totally ineffective.” It's time to change that.We need to abandon the optimism bias we've built as a façade to hide an unformed faith, ill-equipped to withstand hard times. Closing our ears to suffering hasn't made it go away, in our lives or in our world. It's time to open our ears to the voice of lament found throughout the Bible, found on the lips of Leah and David, Rachel and Jeremiah. To help us Listen to Lament, we will turn our attention to the book of Lamentations, where the Prophet Jeremiah grieved the fall of Judah and the destruction of Jerusalem. His ears and heart were open to the suffering all around him, but instead of turning blindly away from them, He turned toward them and brought them, through the grace of lament, to God. What we find are raw, honest prayers that give us a model of a deeper faith we've left untested in our own lives.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.I never tire of seeing God at work in our lives. Too often (like most), I only want to see the ends, but the means are where the details shine. Leah's life is a testimony to this. She grew up in a dysfunctional family, the daughter of father who never saw her worth, treating her as a commodity for his financial future. She spent the early years of her marriage frustrated and alone, praying God would make her husband care and heal the wound of her loveless pain. Leah's life shows us wounds are where the light shines through. As Leah lamented the injustice of her life, the radiance of God's presence shone through her, revealing His loving character to her and a thousand generations (Deuteronomy 7.9). From the very beginning, God gave Leah a voice. We see this in the name of her children. It's through this naming that we see the first ray of light shining through the darkness at Judah's birth. Praising, Leah found her worth rooted in God's love above and beyond all other relationships. What had been withheld in human deficiency was amply offered in the Lord (Issachar), and to whatever end, God honored her (Zebulun) where others failed.It should come as no surprise that the God who uses the weak things of the world to shame the strong would choose Leah, the marginalized matriarch, to bring about His redemptive plan for all humanity (1 Corinthians 1.27)! Through her the Lord gave the Law (through Moses of Levi). Through her descendants Tola (of Issachar) and Elon (of Zebulun) His people lived at peace 33 years during the time of Judges. And through David (of Judah) God built an everlasting throne for His Messiah. And in the fullness of time, in the lands of Zebulun, Jesus would first proclaim the Good News—fulfilling the prophesy of Isaiah—and people who walked in darkness would see a great light! (Isaiah 9.1-2).But back up for a second? That's the ends. Leah never saw any of that. She never saw beyond her days. Her children, the great men and women who shook and shaped the world, came later. All she knew (all we know) was the love of God here and now. And that was enough.

A Sunday morning sermon by Peter DuMont.What does it look like to be rewarded by God? So far in our “Leah Beloved” series, Brett has shown the ways in which Leah's story demonstrated to the Exodus Generation that God sees, hears, and responds to his people according to “ways and means” different from our own! This week we will look at the birth of a fifth son to Leah. She celebrates him as God's reward for having given her servant to her husband as a child bearing surrogate, a cultural practice of the time. But the Genesis text simply states that God listened to her prayer and gave her a son. God answers our prayers with good gifts that we cannot provide ourselves—safety, peace, new life. Yet when those rewards come, we can make ourselves the center of the equation, thinking that extraordinary things we did prompted God to act more than who he is as a loving father. What God rewards—more than our works—is our simple dependance on Him. Attaching ourselves more securely to God's unchanging heart will free us to receive our greatest reward: living from the love of a faithful Heavenly Father.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.An amazing thing happened between the birth of Levi and the birth of Judah. It's as if something finally clicked into place for Leah. For at least the first three to six years of her marriage to Jacob, Leah exhausted herself. She was the tradwife par excellence with nothing to show for it. We can hear the desperation in her prayers. Everything in her world revolved around her husband. Lonely in a patriarchal society, she did everything in her limited power to get him to see her, hear her, love her. If we slow down long enough, we can hear Moses' subtle critique against Jacob his forefather for his neglectful treatment of his foremother.After three attempts to get Jacob's love and attachment, Leah appears to be at the lowest point of her life. Every time she prays it's a variation on, “now my husband will love me, now he'll care, now he'll hold me in love.” That may not be our exact story, but how many of us have bent ourselves out of shape desperate to be appreciated, cared for, loved. But something happens in her prayer life after the birth of Levi when Jacob fails to change (again). Her focus shifts. Her eyes are opened to the One who's seen her all along, heard her every cry, and held her through every sorrow. I believe while she was carrying her fourth child in her womb she realized she was more than a womb. She was more than a second-class citizen. She wasn't an ignored daughter in the house of her father or a neglected wife in the tents of her husband. She was loved. She was beloved.No longer breaking her life, wrecking her soul, chasing after the impossible affections of others, she experienced the rich fullness of the Lord who loved her all along. We see this shift, this joyous relief, as she named Judah, praying: “This time I will praise the Lord” (Genesis 29.35).Friend, if your story feels like a mirror image of Leah's, I pray you would find the same reason to praise today. Allow God to shift your perspective. Trust Him to show you how His grace is sufficient for you, even if your circumstances don't change (2 Corinthians 12.9). Leah was beloved by God and so are you.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.I think the deeper we step into the story of Leah, the more we find a mirror image of ourselves. We all long to be seen, especially by those closest to us, and we all want to be heard. It can be deeply frustrating when we feel our words are falling flat all around us, unheard. We all want to be held, not just physically, but emotionally. We understandably want secure attachment.Our earliest disconnections happen in childhood. Although the Bible does not give us a full biography of Leah and Rachel's upbringing, it does give us a clear image of their father Laban. He's a trickster just as much as his son-in-law, grifting his way through life. You see this first glimmer of gold-fixed eyes when Abraham's servant came looking to find a wife for Isaac. The sight of silver and gold and a caravan of camels had Laban off his feet and running toward this finance-securing opportunity (Genesis 24). When we find Laban again years later, it doesn't seem to appear that He has grown past his desire to build up his wealth or bend others to his own financial advantage.When Jacob expressed interest in marrying Rachel, Laban leapt at the chance to get more than what was culturally expected. He saw the desire in the young man's eyes, and although the bride price at the time (remember this was a heavily patriarchal society) was equivalent to two or three years of labor, Laban locked Jacob in at twice the price! Then, when the wedding night finally came, switching Rachel with Leah, he doubled his already exorbitant fee. He wrote checks for himself in the lives of those who should have been the most precious to him.Beloved, it is understandable why Leah would have deeply longed to be seen, heard, and lovingly held by her husband, knowing the kind of childhood and youth she'd experienced in the house of her father. But, Jacob didn't have the love to give that Leah longed for. All the same, Leah kept trying, praying for a secure attachment with her husband, even naming her third son, Levi, which means attached.Leah was on a long journey of discovery each of us will walk. In the end, Jacob doesn't change, but Leah does. In her sustained place of prayer, God was showing his beloved daughter, He always saw her, heard her, and held her close.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.The Bible is full of so many amazing stories! Obvious right?! Okay, but humor me for a moment. The mind reels as we read of the cosmos created. The pulse races as the rain beats against the side of the ark and then lifts it up into the waves. The heart swells when Noah and his family stand again on solid ground gazing at the rainbow, the soaring symbol of God's covenant. There are so many big stories with big heroes (Abraham, David, Elijah to name a few) whose stories are packed with adrenaline.There are also hundreds of “minor” characters, men and women we find in only a handful of verses, that—if we stop and think about—have outsized testimonies of God's faithfulness. One great example of someone in the Bible often looked over—just as she was in life—is Leah (Genesis 29.15). Left to our own rushed reading we'd be excused for missing her. If Jacob and Rachel's love story is a chapter, Leah is an easily lost footnote. Rachel is described for her striking beauty, but only Leah's eyes are noticed (29.17). Which is poetically telling. Leah alone sees how unseen she is. She's overlooked by everyone around her, and she sees it. She's a side character in the story of her own life.Trapped in a loveless marriage, Leah tries to be seen based on the best ideas of her place and time. Barnabe Assohoto insightfully shows us how, “Leah's reasoning is a product of her culture. She was sure that Jacob would love her if she bore him sons. That is why she greeted Reuben's birth with the words, ‘Surely my husband will love me now' (29.32).” Reuben's name literally translates, “See, a son!”Leah's story is amazing, but not in the ways we might expect. She doesn't win over her husband. She doesn't gain the respect from others she deserves. What she gains is something far greater: she is seen by God (29.31). It takes Leah a while to get past her best efforts to discover the One who sees her and loves her. (Sound familiar?) Seeing Leah's life, we find an amazing truth for our own: we too are seen and beloved by God.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.As I've been praying and preparing the summer series for our youth, following the repeating imagery of God's presence in fire, I'm struck afresh by the faithfulness of God to us across the ages. In the Old Testament, at one of Abraham's lowest moments, God anchored His promise to the patriarch by making a covenant with Abraham; one for which the Lord alone was responsible (Genesis 12.1-4; 15.17). Before His called and chosen servant's watching eyes, as “a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch,” the Lord's presence passed through the sacrifice. Through the fire, the Lord was saying to Abraham, we have made a covenant, but I alone am responsible to fulfill my promise.When we consider Moses sharing this story with Abraham's sons and daughters on their exodus journey out of slavery and into the Promised Land, God's covenantal faithfulness becomes all the more pronounced! In the wilderness, all these men and women needed do was look up from their dark and dusty feet and fix their eyes on the pillar of fire by night and trust the Lord was faithful to His word (Exodus 13.21-22; Numbers 9.15-23).When we arrive on the other side of salvation history—after Christ endured the cross for us, after He conquered death and the grave, after He ascended to the right hand of the Father—we rejoice as Jesus our Messiah pours out His Spirit in a mighty rushing wind and tongues of fire (Acts 2.1-4). In the wind and the fire and the tongues we see expressions of God's everlasting faithfulness fulfilling His promises. In the Apostle's Pentecost sermon, as Richard Thompson once said, our attention is drawn toward this simple fact: “God acted as God promised.” On Pentecost, through the outpouring of His Spirit and the proclamation of the Gospel, God revealed His faithfulness. Like Abraham and the Exodus generation, the people in the crowd in Jerusalem were invited to believe – to believe Jesus was the Lord and Messiah, to believe the witness of the Apostles and Prophets, to repent and receive mercy.Beloved friend, God's faithfulness remains the same. It is the same mercy and grace which calls us to repentance and baptism today. It is the same love which makes a covenant with us, confirming His promise.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.In the early church there was a man named Ignatius (30-107 AD). He devoted his life to the way of Jesus, was discipled by John, and served as the bishop of Antioch. In his final years, as a living witness to the rule and reign of Jesus, Ignatius was condemned by the Roman Emperor Trajan. In chains, he was brought to Rome to be executed, torn apart by wild beasts in the Colosseum. On his way to Rome, he wrote seven letters—just like his mentor John—to the churches. In all his letters, he knows many probably knew him better by his nickname, Theophorus. Between his name and nickname, we find an excellent example of what it means to be a disciple on the way to Pentecost! Ignatius means “fiery one.” It describes a burning ardor and passion (Mark 3.17)! His nickname, Theophorus, means “God-bearer.” This fiery one burned bright with the indwelling presence of God in his life!Deep calling to deep, this God-bearing servant rejoiced in his letter to the Ephesians because when they heard he was arrested, they hurried to his side to encourage and pray with him. With his final days, Ignatius “Theophorus” continued to lift up a name above all names, Jesus our Christ. He echoed Peter on Pentecost, exalting the name of Jesus, the One “attested by God with mighty works and wonders and signs God did through Him” who “was crucified and killed by lawless men” (Acts 2.22-23). Facing his own martyrdom, Ignatius knew his life was secure because the Eternal Lord of Life is the Almighty God who raised Jesus from the grave, “loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for Him to be held by it” (2.24). For this reason, the Pentecost fire in Ignatius' heart was not quenched as he was paraded “in chains for the sake of our common name and hope.” This persecution only served as a witness to the “faith in and love of Christ Jesus” in which we are truly held.Beloved, on our way to Pentecost, may we hold dear Ignatius' words, that we should “in every way glorify Jesus Christ, who glorified you, so that you, joined together in a united obedience… may be sanctified.”

A Sunday morning sermon by Jordan Crews.

A Sunday morning sermon by Peter DuMont.In our movement toward celebrating Pentecost we are examining the Old Testament texts quoted by Peter the Apostle in his powerful Acts 2 message to those gathered in Jerusalem as the gift of the Holy Spirit fell upon Jesus' followers. This Sunday we will be examining Psalm 110, which Peter quotes from to demonstrate Jesus' fulfillment of a long-held hope of King David and the Hebrew people for a coming king who would be seated in glory: “For David did not ascend into the heavens, but he himself says, 'The Lord said to my Lord, "Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool."' Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.” (Acts 2: 34-36) This image from Psalm 110 was beloved by New Testament writers, but long before Peter, it had a powerful original context and meaning—one that can speak to us today as people living in hope, marked by the resurrection life of Jesus and animated by the power of God's Spirit.Let's come to worship Sunday eager to celebrate more of God's faithfulness to every generation and the unshakeable hope of his promised work by the Spirit.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Have you ever felt like the wheels of your life were coming off? A few years ago, Elise and I were hosting family in Dakar and took them to one of our favorite places: Lac Rose. It is a naturally pink lake surrounded by deep flowing sand dunes just off the Atlantic coast. The best way to enjoy it is to get out of the car and get on a four-wheeler. So, that's just what we did. We arranged with a friend to borrow several four-wheelers to ride around the lake and breathe in the fresh sea breeze as we rolled up and down the dunes.You probably know where this is going. Hardly out from our starting place, one of the wheels on Elise's mother's four-wheeler fell off! I mean the whole thing, axle and all. Thankfully she wasn't hurt, but in that moment, it felt like a wheel gave out in my heart! Thankfully, our friend—I kid you not—took a shoelace (a shoelace!) and “fixed” it. If you're skeptical, you're not alone. So was Elise's mom. But we had just enough faith to try again. Elise switched rides with her, and after a few minutes we were back in action. And, amazingly enough, that shoelace held all day!Reading Psalm 16, I deeply feel David's cry even more than our impromptu three-wheeler disaster: “Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge,” (16.1). I can't begin to count how many times that's been my heart's cry. In good times and sorrow, in happy days or desperate hours, I've prayed, “You are my Lord; apart from you I have no good thing,” (16.2). David knew the ups and downs of life's dunes. He knew what it felt like to be sucker punched. So did the disciples, whose heads where still spinning in the upper room from the cross and the tomb, let alone the marvel of resurrection! How often did they feel like they were holding on by a shoestring (Matthew 8.25; 2 Corinthians 1.8–10)!? Yet through it all, David and the disciples encouraged their hearts to sing, “I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken” (16.8). Let's keep singing with them.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Lent always takes us lower than we could ever fathom. On the journey to the cross we are confronted with our own spiritual deformation—how we've exchanged the image of God in our lives for “the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life” (1 John 2.16). The Lenten season is like a pumice stone against the cold and calloused death enveloping our hearts. As we follow Jesus to the cross, our sin and death are laid bare before the Lord, and there on the hill where Jesus died, all our guilt and shame is placed on His shoulders (1 Peter 2.24; Isaiah 53.6). Every year, on Good Friday, as I extinguish the candles on the high altar, I cannot help but cry. There on the cross, Jesus dies my death (1 Peter 3.18; Isaiah 53.5).Yes, Lent takes us lower than we could ever fathom but as we follow Jesus to the cross and through the tomb, Lent also lifts us higher than we could ever imagine! Every year, I am swept up in the marvelous resurrection of our Lord! The One who proclaims to us, “I AM the resurrection and the life” is forever risen and dwells in His absolute glory (John 11.25-26, Hebrews 1.3)! Everything Jesus taught us now takes on newer, fuller, richer vibrancy in His resurrection. Every sign, every wonder, everything Jesus said and did is now seen anew through His resurrection. This year, as we make our way to Jesus' ascension (May 14) and the outpouring of His Holy Spirit (May 24), let's devote ourselves to being re-formed by His resurrection. Let's dedicate time to prayer and fellowship, seeking to be conformed more into His image and transformed more by His Spirit's indwelling work (Romans 8.29; 2 Corinthians 3.18). Let's seek, like His disciples on the way to Pentecost, to see the revelation of God's Word (in Joel and the Psalms) through the lens of our Lord's glorious resurrection (Acts 2.14-41).Beloved, God the Father has promised more for us in the light of Christ's resurrection, but too often we live disempowered lives—lacking real spiritual transformation—because we fail to be reshaped in His resurrection. Today is not too late. Let's make our way together to Pentecost.

An Easter Sunday sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.These are the final days of our Lenten journey. We've spent these weeks marveling at Jesus' signs. He turned water to wine. What a wonder! He miraculous restored a man's legs lame for 38 years! What awesome power! He took a handful of fish and flatbread and fed 5000! Only God has done anything like this before (Exodus 16). Jesus made mud and anointed the sightless eyes of a man born blind who came back from the waters of Siloam seeing! The man exclaimed with amazement, “Never since the world began has… anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind” (John 9.32). He was saying of his healing, “Only God could do this!”When Jesus entered Jerusalem, riding on the foal of a donkey, everyone in the crowded capital—jam packed with pilgrims from across the world—was talking about Jesus' seventh sign. Everybody knew Lazarus was dead. Dead for days. Before their eyes he was wrapped and anointed and grieved into the tomb. Then Jesus proclaimed for all to hear, “I AM the Resurrection and Life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die” (11.25-26). Still people didn't understand. How could they!? They asked one another, “Could not He who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?” (11.37). Then Jesus turned to the tomb, commanded the stone rolled away and “cried out with a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!'” and from the darkness of the cave, Lazarus stepped out, alive! Only God could do this!Friend, John displays for us the truth of Jesus who is the Word of God! There is no question in his mind these signs prove the divinity of Christ; and the resurrection of Lazarus is just a foretaste of what's to come (John 20). Following Jesus to the Table where He washes our feet, pause to marvel. Only God would do this. Follow Him as He stands judged by the people made in His image and endures mockery at the hands of the soldiers and wonder. Only God would do this. Follow Him to the cross where He dies our death; where He puts death to death. Only God could do this.

A Palm Sunday sermon by Kezzie Joyner, Evan Schmalzbach, William Sleeman, Ava DealScents have a way of rapturing us out of our present into a memory. The other day Daphne made beignets, the kind we both grew up eating in Africa, and as I bit into it and the smell filled my senses, I was a 6-year-old boy on the streets of Malabo. I can't describe how the smell and taste populated my mind and memory with the sights and sounds of Equatorial Guinea in 1988.I'm guessing the Apostle John had a similar scent memory with the smell of the perfume broken free from Mary's alabaster box. Decades later as John composed his Gospel, I wonder if the smell came back to him. I think it did. I think whenever he smelled nard, he was transported back to that night when, “The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume” (John 12.3). It was a sweet memory because it signaled the time had come for Jesus to become our Passover lamb (1 Corinthians 5.7b). Anointed for burial He will bring us to new life in His resurrection!The Apostle Matthew would remember this night, recalling how Jesus said, “Truly, I say to you, wherever this good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her” (Matthew 26.13). Mary's love for Jesus is vibrantly evident. Jesus is the One who made room for her among His disciples (Luke 10.38-42). Jesus is the One who wept with her in her deepest grief (John 11.32-35). He is the One who raised her brother Lazarus back from the dead (John 11.38-44). Who else was more deserving of her absolute devotion, but Jesus Christ?!Friends, it's right we call Jesus our Christ and Messiah. Both words, in Greek and Hebrew, carry the meaning of being anointed. When He began His ministry, Jesus was anointed by the Father with the Holy Spirit and power (Acts 10.38). Divinely anointed at the beginning, it's fitting then we would anoint Him on his way to the cross. We, the humanity made in His image. We, who are made whole in His sacrifice, would devote our most priceless gifts for His worship. This Holy Week may the Lord, our anointed Messiah, fill our senses with the fullness of His glory.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.We live in anxious times. It can feel overwhelming, like battering breakers on a shattering ship. We live with seasick stomachs as the storm tries to sweep us off our feet. Last week, prayerfully holding the tensions of our national and international uncertainty, driving our teens around felt the perfect time to sing our current unease. Stopped at the light, I pulled up Robert Lamm's poignant song, Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? because, although written in the late 1960s, it asks the same questions we anxiously pose today.Friend, it can feel like our world is crashing in on us, tossing us mercilessly without end. What we experience existentially is what the disciples felt literally on the sea of Galilee (John 6.18). Desperately rowing against the wind, they were doing everything in their power to reach the distant shore. They were anxious and alone. Then, to make matters worse, while bailing for dear life, swamped by the breaking waves, a figure appeared walking on the water! Their gut-churning dread became heart-stopping terror…until Jesus spoke. He called out to them over the storm, “I AM, fear not,” (6.20). John tells us, when Jesus said those four words, the disciples were more than ready for Him to step into their boat. His presence was what they needed the most!By walking on the water, Jesus was telling His anxious disciples that He knows what time it is, that He really cares. In His messianic signs He was revealing to them His divinity as God among us. He is the One who walks on the waves and rules over the raging seas (Job 9.8-11; Ps 89.9). He is the Great I AM who knows we are blinded by our anxieties. He knows how our fears form cataracts of doubt and insecurity. And so, He speaks to us. He calls to us, proclaiming His nature. He tells us to abandon fear as we listen to His voice.Marianne Meye Thompson believes, “God's people are not to fear because God is and will be with them,” and we witness this in this miraculous sign. Beloved, what storm of emotional anxiety and soul disquiet, do you need to give to Jesus today as He walks on the water?

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Twenty years ago, when I was a young pastor rushing in ministry, a mentor advised me saying, “Sometimes in ministry the best thing you can do is have a nap and a snack.” I've thought about that a lot over the years. At its heart, it's a call to Sabbath, remembering God is God and we aren't. It challenges where we've abandoned His way for our own. When we serve Jesus in our own strength, we may last for a while, but it's not long before the cracks appear.Elijah's a great example of this (1 Kings 19). He genuinely felt he was the only one serving the Lord. Reading about the powerful encounter on Mount Carmel, we might think he was renewed, rejuvenated, and ready to run into his next season of ministry. In reality, he was worn out! He crashed out at Jezebel's threat. Hiding in the wilderness, the Lord let Elijah sleep and miraculously fed him. A nap and snack are a good start.The disciples are another great example (John 6). One might think after taking a few small pieces of bread and fish from Jesus' hands and marveling at their miraculous multiplication the disciples would be spiritually energized for life! In reality, they were just as susceptible to fear and perplexity as the crowd (John 6.19, 60). A miraculous meal and a night's rest are a good start, but there's greater spiritual nourishment needed.God fed His people to call them closer. He asked Elijah, “Why are you here?” (1 Kings 19.113). After scandalizing the crowd proclaiming unequivocally, “I AM the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh,”—which led to thousands abandoning Him—Jesus asked His remaining disciples: “Do you desire to leave too?” (John 6.51; 67).The Lord feeds us to bring us into a place of real conversation and revelation. During this week of Lent, quiet your heart to hear the Lord's still small voice. Maybe start by taking a nap and eating a snack, remembering you aren't God. Then answer honestly the questions the Lord asks: “Why are you here?” and “Are you following me or yourself?”

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.A week out from Ash Wednesday, we are now well on our way to the cross. Beloved, Lent is a challenging time in our faith because it strips away the comfortable layers of religion we use to conceal our favored idolatry. This dedicated season of repentance is a pumice stone against the callouses on the feet of our faith. With each sign Jesus scrapes against our soles on our way together to Golgotha (John 19.17-18). The healing, abrasive pumice of John's Gospel rips away our unfeeling religion, leaving our tender, living flesh in the cleansing hands of the Master (13.1-17).It's here, held in the hands of Jesus, we must choose for ourselves. Will we believe like the disciples (2.12, 22, 23; 3.36; 4.39-41, 50) or crucify Him with the crowd (5.18; 7.1; 8.37, 40; 11.53; 19.1-42). Our lives in Christ are more than the high-energy exhilaration of the triumphal entry (12.12-19). Our discipleship passes through tomb, dying to self, on our way to resurrection (12.24). Our Lenten devotion can deeply frustrate us because Jesus' wholeness confronts our religious hollowness. Like a barren fig tree, we might have the outward appearance of faith—limbs and leaves—but before Jesus the fruitlessness of our belief is exposed (Luke 13.6-9). In the glorious holiness of Jesus' presence we are confronted by our spiritual lameness (John 5.1-11).In this place of vulnerability and need, Jesus genuinely asks us: “Do you want to be well?” (5.6b). Reading John's Gospel, we see the nature of the Messiah revealed in His seven signs. There is no one else who has divine power and authority like Jesus, because only Jesus is united completely with God the Father (10.30). Jesus alone is the way, the truth, and the life (14.6). Today, on your Lenten journey with Jesus entrust yourself more fully to His Lordship and care (10.7-9; 11-18). Ask the Spirit of the Lord to search your life and invite His correction (Psalm 139.23-24).

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.“And the man took Jesus at His word and went on his way,” (John 4.50b). That has to be one of the most encouraging verses in the Bible if we slow down enough to read it. Seriously, how is this not one of the verses we tell our children to memorize?!Let's establish a little context. In John's Gospel, before Jesus begins to support His teaching through signs of His Lordship, He modeled baptism for us. He demonstrated the way of the Messiah that passes through the waters of repentance. He then turned water to wine at a wedding in Cana, showing us the Father's generosity that surpasses the limited best we could ever establish for ourselves. Jesus then goes to Jerusalem and, like His generosity at the wedding, He does what we cannot do for ourselves: He cleanses the Temple. He drives out our plans for or own provision, our commerce and greed, that we anointed and placed in the Temple courts. Naturally, frustrated and rebuked, we demand Jesus provide proof of authority to drive out our sacralized idols in His house, and His response is to point us to the cross. Would you stop for a second and ask the Lord to open your eyes to the idols in your life?While Jesus was making His way slowly back to Capernaum, a royal official was desperately searching for Him. Jesus left Jerusalem and spent several days in Samaria (of all places!), falling off the grid, and this man—probably a member of the wicked Herodian rule—was looking for Him everywhere. We can understand this father's urgency because his son was about to die. When Jesus popped up in Cana, the man ran to Him, begging Jesus, “Lord, come down before my child dies.” And the Lord's response was “Go, your son will live.”And here's our memory verse for the week: “And the man took Jesus at His word and went on his way.” Friend, this can be the hardest part of faith: simply walking in what Jesus has told us to do, believing. Beloved, as we start walking, taking Jesus at His word is when the testimony comes (John 4.51-53). Where is Jesus telling you to take him at His word and start walking?

An Ash Wednesday sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Wednesday is the beginning of Lent, the first of forty days which lead us to Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem and the start of Holy Week. All across the world, fellow followers of Jesus will make this spiritual pilgrimage—from Ash Wednesday through Holy Saturday—a time of heartfelt repentance. To aid us in our devotion at Eternity, we will be walking alongside Jesus with His beloved disciples John. It's important to note here at the outset, Lent is not a sprint. The goal is not to see who can get to the cross fastest. Lent is a journey, a few steps a day.We see this pace in Jesus' ministry. He could have rushed to Jerusalem and established His Messianic reign by angelic force (Lord knows that's what folks thought the Messiah would do!). Instead, Jesus began His ministry in the waters of baptism, modeling for us the way of repentance (John 1.29-34). Right now, take a moment of silent prayer and repent (acknowledging where you've fallen short). Following His baptism, John records Jesus' first sign (John 2.1-12). The wedding at Cana, seen in the light of baptism, takes on a whole new layer of meaning. We all want a good life filled with celebration and joy. We all save up and allocate resources for special occasions. But we will also all experience times when our stockpiles run out, our plans for self-sufficiency run dry. All our lives at some point grind to a halt. This is where Christ enters in. We cannot baptize ourselves, absolving ourselves of sin, but Christ can. He is the One who receives our repentance, washes us clean in His blood (1 John 5.6-8). We cannot turn water to wine, but He takes our water vats (dedicated for ceremonial cleaning)—our active symbols of repentance—and fills them to the brim. He takes the water of our repentance and transforms it into the wine of joy. Take a moment now to thank Him for the abundance of His generosity in your life.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal. Have you ever noticed how often Jesus was interrupted? It's kind of amazing how often people seemingly derailed what Jesus was doing so that He might see their situation. You've got to be pretty audacious (or desperate) to interrupt a respected rabbi while He's teaching!While Jesus was addressing John the Baptist's disciples, explaining why His ministry was blowing up their paradigms—they were trying to put His new Messianic wine into their old culturally acceptable wineskins—Jesus was interrupted. While Jesus was talking, Jairus knelt before Jesus, desperate for Jesus to raise His daughter back to life (Matthew 9.18). Jesus dropped everything and went with Him. He wasn't angry. He didn't make Him wait. Jesus heard his interruption and went with him. But no sooner did Jesus turn the corner when He felt a tug on His tunic. A woman with a persistent hemorrhage, which had plagued her for twelve years, was desperate too. She crouched through the crowd believing if she simply touched the hem of His garment she would be healed (an interruption inside an interruption!). We might be tempted, if we were Jairus, to tell her to get in line, take a number, and wait her turn. Our situation is time sensitive. But the truth is, Jesus is able to address all our needs. He can speak resurrection and restoration into all our lives (28.18). Reading these miracles again, as if for the first time, we see a Savior willing to be interrupted because He cares. His love for us is so great He goes with us. Even if all He needed to do was speak a word, He still walks with us to bring resurrection into our world. He still draws close enough to us where we can reach out and touch Him.Beloved, Jesus understands our needs and is willing to be interrupted and walk with us, to care for us, to turn to us and speak encouragement into our lives. Yes, Jesus is fully God, so He's able to meet our need. In the Gospel, we also see He is fully human, like us “in every respect, so that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest” (Hebrews 2.17). Friend, don't be shy today. Jesus is waiting to be interrupted.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Jesus has such a powerful way of showing us who we are in the Father's eyes. His disciples are perfect examples of this truth. Where Mark wrote of John and his brother as the “Sons of Thunder”—which has to be the most woefully under-utilized rock band name of all time—because of their fiery tempers (Mark 3.17), John saw himself in Christ as beloved (John 13.23; 19.26; 20.2; 21.7; 21.20; 21.24). The same is true for Matthew. Mark and Luke tell the story of Matthew's calling, but they intentionally refer to him as Levi (that designation is important). But for Matthew writing his gospel, remembering the day Jesus found him despised and disdained by his countrymen, sitting in a tax collector's booth, Matthew shares the name which Jesus used to redefine his life. The former tax collector tells us, “As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, ‘Follow me'" (Matthew 9.9a).At the heart of this story is man who the world called anything but “Matthew.” The Hebrew name Matthew means, “Gift of the Lord,” which was the last thing his neighbors saw. He was called a tax collector. He was called a sinner. He was an embarrassment, a sellout. He worked for Herod the Tetrarch, subservient to the Roman Empire. He was, to the Pharisees and the people around him, irredeemably unclean. But to Jesus, he was Matthew. Stop and read that again. To Jesus, Matthew was a gift from God, a purposeful creation made in the hands of the Master (Psalm 139.14-18).Friend, maybe you feel like that despised tax collector today. Maybe your soul is sporting a black eye from the blows of a broken society. You feel frozen by your sin in the eyes of those around you. But Jesus, the Son of God, sees you as a gift of God. He sees you where you are and calls you by name to follow Him. Jesus loves you. He passed by your way to reveal God's love for you, and for those around you. Beloved, today, hear Jesus' personal call to discipleship and walk in His way.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.It's natural when we experience sickness, or see someone we love suffering, to long for healing. We go in search of relief. We ask others if they've encountered similar symptoms. We book appointments. We even search for answers from websites and computer collations (ironically referred to as intelligence). The reality is when we suffer, we want solutions. But often because we don't know the depths of our maladies, we end up treating symptoms on the surface rather than the inner, unseen disease. Like the woman hemorrhaging blood for twelve years, we go from doctor to doctor desperate for a cure, spending everything we have, only to find ourselves worse off than before (Matthew 9.20-22; Mark 5.26). Cosmetic remedies leave us emotionally depleted when they fail to fix what's broken within.When we come to the end of ourselves, when the solutions of the internet and the internist leave us without answers, we look beyond the natural to the supernatural. Scripture tells us Jesus came to heal us, and not just the sickness on the surface but the sin deep within. Jesus speaks over us with all authority and restores us with all gentleness, healing our broken hearts and binding up our wounds (Psalm 147.3). Matthew wrote of a paralytic man brought to Jesus who'd been “thrown” onto his sick bed (Greek: balló). He wasn't tossed roughly there by his friends who brought him to Jesus but violently thrust there by his disease. No doubt, knowing the nature of crowds, some thought they knew this man's sin, and saw his sickness as just punishment (Exodus 15.26). Forgiving little, they loved little, feeling the pain of the paralytic little (Luke 7.47). But for those of us who've found great freedom and healing in Jesus Christ's love, we rejoice in His command to get up and walk! We bow down in awe and praise God (Matthew 9.8)! Beloved, may we, who have been greatly loved, love all people with the good news of our Great Physician. May we speak straight to the heart of the hurting that Jesus our Healer also forgives our sin!

A Sunday morning service by Pastor Brett Deal.It's interesting to ask people what they know about Jesus. When you get a chance this week, slip it into conversation and see what they say. Most people who are asked about David will know about Goliath. Those who are asked about Joseph might mention his coat of many colors. Many, when asked about Jesus, think about the sea. Jesus in the boat with his disciples. Jesus walking on the water. Jesus calming the sea. That's a great place to start!You might know the story of Jesus calming the sea well, but what might be surprising to you, even if you've followed Jesus for years, is the immediate context of the story. After delivering the Sermon on the Mount and healing several outsiders (the Jewish leper, the Roman Centurion's servant, and Peter's mother-in-law), Jesus told His disciples it was time to “go to the other side” (Matthew 8.18). The Gospel tells us when Jesus “got into the boat, his disciples followed Him” (8.23). That's a beautiful sentiment. It's worthy of being stitched onto a grandmother's throw pillow or one of those fancy calligraphy paintings in a crafts store. It's beautiful, but dangerous!No sooner do they follow Jesus from shore (and Jesus finally gets a moment to rest from the constant demands of ministry) all hell breaks loose! The Sea of Galilee was known for extreme storms, but this is something else. Matthew says a mega seismos swelled up. The word seismos is most commonly associated with earthquakes (8.24). This is no ordinary storm, and following Jesus led His disciples right into it.Perhaps you're in the middle of a storm, and you feel like you're not going to make it through. You're angry with God because following Him led you here and you're losing hope! Take a breath. Cry out your prayer to Jesus in the storm and anchor your faith Him anew because, friend, it's in the storm where we meet with Jesus who is fully God and fully man. He knows what we're going through. He's been through it too. Yes, and Jesus is fully God because by the power of His voice He commands the winds and waves to be still. It is in the boat beyond the safety of shore we behold Jesus who is our Savior (Jude 1.24-25).

A Sunday morning sermon by Peter DuMont.How has God made you uncomfortable this week? We all have preferred ways of doing things, the ways in which we might like to definitively order our lives (and the lives of others) if we had the means to do so. As we continue our Epiphany series in Matthew 8-9, we see Jesus raising some questions and some hackles by what he is doing: “Why does the teacher eat with sinners?” “Why aren't his disciples fasting like John's and the Pharisees?” Jesus answers these questions by describing his ministry as marked by joy and a stretching agent. His message and actions provoke change, and this will be uncomfortable for those who want Jesus' arrival to fit into comfortable ways of doing things. Conversely, for those at their wits end with nowhere to turn, Jesus' arrival will mean rescue, deliverance, resurrection. What are we to make of a Savior who promises to reconcile and transform everything for good, but also promises to not leave us unchanged in the process? Are we willing to see our apple carts upset--our preferences overruled--as part of sharing in the advance of God's Kingdom, or will the work of God stretch rigid places within us to the tearing point? Let's come to worship this Sunday amazed at the power and life that Jesus brings, hungry to partake in his gospel reality, and willing to be formed and stretched by the oncoming movement of his kingdom.

A Sunday sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Tonight, we sit on the water's edge of a new year. With the sun set and moonlight piercing the darkness, we watch the slow ripple on the waves of yesterday and watch for dawn. It may not seem it, but the hours before sunrise are some of the best for fishing. This silent time lit soft by stars is the perfect time to cast wide our net into the new year. I'm not talking about new year's resolutions that only last a day or two. I'm talking about epiphany! Epiphany is the culmination of prolonged effort—like wisemen from the East making their long journey to Bethlehem or a faithful fisherman patiently casting out His net. At the beginning of last year, Jesus enlightened us with his preaching (Matthew 5-7). On a mountainside He spoke light and life, opening our eyes and ears and illuminating our hearts. Now, Jesus will come down from the mountain and walk among us, living His message into our world (Matthew 8.1). As we set out with Jesus the Messiah, would you enter this new year challenged by our fourth century sibling, Chromatius of Aquila, who wrote:“‘The kingdom of heaven is near.' So do you want the kingdom of heaven to also be near for you? Prepare these ways in your heart, in your senses and in your soul. Pave within you the way of purity, the way of faith and the way of holiness. Build roads of justice. Remove every scandal of offense from your heart. For it is written: ‘Remove the stones from the road.' And then, indeed, through the thoughts of your heart and the very movements of your soul, Christ the King will enter along certain paths,” (emphasis added).Beloved, the King and His Kingdom are near, so let us begin this new year intently going through the gates, preparing the way for all people, building up the way of the Lord to dwell among us (Isaiah 62.10). Let us join Jesus in the journey as He casts the net wide.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Time is a funny thing. Think about it. There are times minutes feel like months, and seconds unending seasons of waiting. Then, there are sparkling decades which rush by in a blink of an eye. When our kids were little, the constant refrain we heard was “Don't blink, before you know it…” You know the rest. Friend, I blinked. When my eyes opened, our newborns were all teenagers!Tonight is Christmas Eve. It's been one short trip around the sun since our last candlelit service, singing our Advent songs. It's also been two millennia since Jesus was born to a virgin and placed gently in a manger (Luke 2.7). For two thousand years we've celebrated that Christ has come, born among us, bringing salvation into our world (John 3.17). Our present is anchored in this past tense fulfillment! But now, consider what it must have been like for those eagerly awaiting the first Advent! Let's not take for granted how blessed we are to have seen and heard this good news (Matthew 13.16)! “For truly,” when we stop and think about it, many prophets and righteous people longed to see and hear what we have seen and heard (Matthew 13.17).Day after day, century after century, they waited for the Messiah to arrive. They set their hope on the prophetic word the Holy Spirit was speaking into their lives. They believed for what they did not see, trusting the faithfulness of God. And then, in Bethlehem, all of a sudden—long-awaited—Christ was born. Are we surprised a weary world rejoiced with this thrill of hope?!Friend, we gather this Holy Night, placing ourselves with the prophets of old, expectant for the first Advent (1 Peter 1.10-12). And with a thrill of hope in His first Advent we wait all the more expectantly for His return! Indeed, His second Advent might be today! So come rejoicing for "His law is love and His gospel is peace." Let's take the time, while there is still time before us, and "let all within us praise His holy name!"Merry Christmas!

A Christmas Eve sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Can you imagine what it must have been like in Jerusalem when the wise men showed up? Children fetching water. Merchants selling in the market. Scribes dutifully copying the biblical scrolls for synagogues near and far. Priests serving in the Temple. Meanwhile, King Herod, is looking over his shoulder to see what family member he needs to kill next. Like a neurotic groundhog, whenever Herod saw his shadow, someone suspiciously drowned, was strangled, or ended up in a vat of honey. Maybe that day started out like any other…that is until these foreign wise men rolled into town seeking a royal audience, searching for the new king of the Jews. This sent Herod—the current king of the Jews—into a rage, and everybody in Jerusalem felt it (Matthew 2.3)!Upsetting news like this required a general assembly of the religious elites. Herod called for the chief priests and scribes to reveal through their scrolls where this Messiah was to be born (2.4). Steeped in Scripture, they unveiled the answer from Micah the prophet (Micah 5.2). They knew the promise of the Messiah, foretold to David who would reign over God's people forever (2 Samuel 7.14). He would be a Shepherd King (2 Samuel 5.2), born in Bethlehem, the little hamlet of David's own birth.How unnerving it must have been to tell the temperamental Herod the answer to his question! The stark contrast must have been unsettling to share. According to Leslie Allen, “It is within this drab frame of royal misfortune that Micah sets a glorious picture of royal majesty. The figure of failure of verse one stands as a foil to his radiant counterpart here.” The Lord was bringing a true king for His people, a Shepherd King for His sheep in Israel and among all nations (Micah 7.14-15; John 10.16). If you're Herod, or someone benefiting from his governance, this news spells disaster. But, if you are poor, seeking relief, oppressed in search of solace, if you are wise men from the East following a star, this is absolutely good news! The Advent of the Messiah is the promise of a Shepherd who cares, who brings healing with His touch and peace in His reign (Malachi 4.2; Matthew 11.28-30).

A Sunday morning sermon by Peter DuMont.Advent is a season of wonder, an opportunity to consider encounters between Heaven and Earth with renewed amazement: a young girl overshadowed by the Spirit of God, wise men pursuing signs in the stars, shepherds surrounded by angelic rejoicing. This third week of Advent, we look at Simeon and Anna—two figures marked by deep connection to God and a burden for the heartbreak of their people. Their recognition of the newborn Christ in the Temple demonstrates an extraordinary spiritual attunement. They do not require angelic visitation to recognize the Rescuer they are seeing and what his arrival will bring. Led by the Spirit, they see Jesus' arrival as the culmination of their life's labors of intercession before God. Simeon and Anna function as two of the final prophets to Jesus' coming. Their responses equip Joseph and Mary for their own extraordinary callings and point toward the global life of Christ's church into which we have been adopted. This week, may their lives challenge us in new ways, calling us into a greater attunement of our own hearts to God's heart. May we receive new eyes to see God among us in the turmoil, heartache, and kingdom movement of our own moment in redemption history.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Reading the Bible carefully we often find passages packed with foreshadowing. Luke's Gospel is a great example of this. Like a great symphony, the theme is set at the start. We hear everything we need to know at the beginning.Luke draws our attention to the fulfillment of the Messianic promise through the Old Testament in the words he chooses and the stories he tells. Many of the stories he adds to his Gospel, which mirrors that of the Apostle Matthew and his co-laborer Mark, drive this point home. More than any other book in the New Testament, Luke contrasts the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. God is the Most High (1.32, 35, 76; 6.35; 8.28) and His dwelling place is on high (1.78; 2.14; 19.38; 24.49).So, when Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of the Most High God is born, who are the first witnesses to His Advent?! Not the powerful or important. Not emperors or the kings in the comfort of their kingdoms. No, the year of Jubilee is announced to the poor and lowly, to shepherds working in the middle of the night. Although the Messiah's good news is for all people from every nation and economic status, the highest and glorious good news is good-est for the poor, the brokenhearted, the pushed down and bound (Isaiah 61.1-3).The first evangelists in Luke's gospel were the shepherds who followed the heavenly host's announcement and found Jesus in the manger. When they saw Him for themselves, just as the angel proclaimed, “they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child,” (1.17). Their testimony revealed the gap between the natural and the supernatural, between the highest of high and the lowest and low. In their evangelism they rejoiced the Messiah from on High had drawn near to their lowly estate, declaring the Lord's favor! Hearing the shepherd's witness “all who heard it marveled at what the shepherds told them,” (1.18).This Sunday, our youngest will lead us. Our children and youth will make known to us what's “been told them concerning this child.” May we marvel at their witness and follow their good news to the manger!

A Sunday sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.The Bible's rich with all kinds of words. Some are everyday words: the, and, to speak; but others only show up a handful of times, and their rarity causes them to stand out. One great example is episkiazó. Following Matthew, Luke used episkiazó (meaning to overshadow) describing Jesus' transfiguration.  All three Synoptic Gospels harmonize their use of this word (Matthew 17.5; Mark 9.7; Luke 9.34) where on the mountain, as Jesus' disciples watched in awe, Jesus “was transfigured before them, and His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became white as light,” and “a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is My beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.”Imagine Luke on a missionary voyage with Paul, with the scroll of Matthew's Gospel rolled out before Him, praying for the best way to share the good news with his friend Theophilus. Then, struck like a divine lightning bolt, Luke's heart was set on fire with the word episkiazó! Luke used overshadow three times. The third time was in Acts 5.15, describing the Apostle Peter—so heavily anointed by the Holy Spirit after Pentecost—people would bring their sick loved ones out to the street where they were healed, overshadowed by the passing Apostle. The second was Christ's transfiguration, but both are imbued with deeper meaning when read them the light of the first. Luke told Theophilus at the beginning when Gabriel the angel announced to Mary about the arrival of the Messiah: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God,” (Luke 1.35). Luke's triple use of episkiazó is illuminating. The Spirit's overshadowing places the emphasis on the actor more than the act. It is the same Spirit overshadowing Mary which magnifies Christ before His disciples. Is it the same Spirit overshadowing Peter which miraculously heals the hurting. Beloved, it is the same Spirit overshadowing you and me today as we draw near to the Father, and say, “I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word,” (1.38).

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal. In Matthew's Gospel, Jesus tells us a parable revealing the nature of the heavenly kingdom we see in Revelation. He says: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son,” (Matthew 22.2).Can you imagine then how shocked Jesus' disciples were as the parable unfolded? The king's servants went out with the good news of the wedding feast but so many of the invited guests didn't care! They declined to come. They paid no attention to the joyous news, prioritizing their own plans. What's worse, some seized the king's servants, treated them shamefully and killed them. Because of their violent refusal, the king sent his army to measure out justice against the violent. Once again, king sent out his servants, “The wedding feast is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore to the main roads and invite to the wedding feast as many as you find,” (22.8b). His invitation to the table was for everyone! Regardless of their past or their worth. Good and bad, rich and poor, all were invited to celebrate the wedding feast! In Revelation 19, we see the eschatological truth of this revealing parable. All those who chose to build their own kingdoms, who rebel against the Lord, who opt for Babylon over the Son of God are given over to their decision. After one last invitation, the door is closed to them. But to those who will listen, these are the true words of God: “Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb,” (Revelation 19.9).Friend, we've been invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb! Every Sunday, we gather around the Table and, holding the symbols of Jesus' real and mysterious presence among us, we take the break and the cup. Friend, His invitation deserves thanksgiving! The King of Glory has invited us to draw near! His invitation deserves our best. Let's take this time we have, to do justice, love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God (Micah 6.8); to cloth ourselves in righteous deeds (Revelation 19.8) which bring glory to His name. Let's get ready, the wedding feast is closer than we think (Revelation 3.11; 22.7, 20)!

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Music is such a unique gift. With a few simple chords a song can energize us. A few words become an anthem when set to music. With the strum of a few strings our souls can be set at ease (1 Samuel 16.23).In the middle of the outpouring of God's final wrath, the final measure meted out against those who oppose His justice and truth, a song is sung in heaven. We've seen in Scripture how God puts His sovereignty powerfully on display over the chaotic waters. His Spirit was above the waters of creation and drove apart the Red Sea (Genesis 1.1-2; Exodus 14). Dwelling among Jesus walked on the stormy waters and calmed the raging seas with His voice (Matthew 14.22-33; Mark 4.35-41).Now, at the end of His wrath, the Lord pours His judgment on land, sea and sky. As /his messengers carry forth His command, an angel placed over the waters sings. He sings of God's just judgment and righteous truth (Revelation 16.5-6). Like King Saul, tormented by his own wickedness, it is easy for us to condemn God's just judgment against us. We isolate decisions and excuse behaviors. We align ourselves with the powerful of this world in their injustice against others and refuse to see the blood on our own hands (Amos 2.6-8; Isaiah 10.1-4).It is to us the angel's song is sung as the judgment is poured out. It is a renewed invitation to repent and live in Christ's compassion. This song is a call to sing with those beneath the altar, the witnesses who've gone before us, the men, women and children's whose lives testified to the mercy of God denied justice by cruel humanity. Beloved, let's repent of our sin. Let's lay our souls bare before our righteous and compassionate God, following His Spirit into the lives of the widow, the orphan and the resident alien (James 1.27). And with our brothers and sisters beneath the altar, let's sing in reply, “Yes, Lord God the Almighty, true and just are your judgments!” (Revelation 16.7). 

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Years ago, Bebe Winans in a live recording of Nothing but the Blood, as the piano keys tinkled in the background, shared how across American Christianity, we sang the same songs, just with different arrangements. He demonstrated what he meant by taking the song, commonly sung as a single voice, arranged the lyrics as a call and response. Winans asks, “What can wash away my sin?” and the choir reply, “Nothing but the Blood of Jesus!” And as the drums kick back on the rhythm, the bass line bouncing up and down, together the voices rejoice: “O precious is the flow / that makes me white as snow / no other fount I know / nothing but the blood of Jesus!”Reading Revelation 15, we've heard this song of before, just with a different arrangement. What we've sung before crossing on the dry ground through the Red Sea, a song of Moses, a hymn of praise to our Almighty God (Exodus 15), has become the song of the Lamb. Amos Young artfully said it this way: “As the Hebrews cried out to their God and then celebrated with Moses in the wake of their deliverance, so also can the church today pray to the Almighty one and continue to sing Moses's song, albeit attuned now to the Lamb's new key.”Beloved, take time today as you sing the songs of Eternity, hear John's revelation as a call to which we respond. Here him exalting: “This is all my hope and peace” and join all creation singing “nothing but the blood of Jesus.” Together, let's sing of His great and awesome works among us! Let's lift our hands in praise as we entrust ourselves to His ways that are just and true (Revelation 15.3)! In the assembly of the saints, let's hear the Apostle's humble worship, “This is all my righteousness,” and join him—bowed low before the Lamb who was slain, by whose blood we are ransomed to be a people for God,” (Revelation 5.9)—knowing we stand before the Lord God by “nothing but the blood of Jesus.”Whatever arrangement you sing, friend, let's go through this day rejoicing!

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Years ago, I heard Duke Ellington's Heaven for the first time, and it rocked my world. In middle school I'd stumbled across Ellington (a jazz album misplaced among the blues records), and since then I began to collect his compositions. I thought I knew his sound until Heaven. His soft recognizable piano playing is accented by a crisp soprano voice praying “Heaven come by,” sonically climbing up to the note. I sat there, enraptured by the song. The closest to that yearning for God's eternal presence was listening to Coltrane's Love Supreme a few years later. That was until last week.At an evening of jazz arranged by Taylor Barnett, where Steve Wilson and Daniel Clarke improvised Heaven, I found myself swept up again. All the fundamentals were there, but their interpretation made the song new, fresh, like a thunderbolt of worship. It wasn't just a saxophone and a piano. It was a testimony.Together, exploring the book of Revelation, we've sung the songs of eternity. We've exalted the Lamb of God who was slain for all nations (Revelation 7.9-12). We've praised the Lamb of God because we've been ransomed by His blood to bear prophetic witness to all nations (5.9-14; 11.3-13). Now in Revelation 12, we've reached the apocalyptic tipping point—Revelation's core—the place of worship where all time converges before God's throne. All of Scripture—from Genesis to Revelation— has been telling this one grand story, but now, in worship, we rejoice God's victory won over all time—past, present and future. “Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses [God's people] day and night before our God,” (12.10b). That's heaven, the eternal presence of God among His people, and looking and longing for that day we sing, “Heaven, my dream / Heaven, divine / Heaven supreme / Heaven come by.” 

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Steve Hartman.Brett has been leading us in the Songs of Revelation. Brett said as we began, “Jesus deserves our holistic worship, a worship that is rooted in the depths of our heart…” So, we are looking at these “songs” with the aim of more fully joining the worship we see as we read and study these songs the picture to us the worship of the heavenly chorus.In our first passage we see a throne. Jesus is the king, he is reigning. When you and I trust in Jesus, He comes to live in us. He begins to reign in us. We were kings of our hearts. Now, we have begun to experience the blessing—the new freedom as we let Him reign/rule/be-in-charge in our lives. But, in our main passage for Sunday (Revelation 11.15-19), we see that reign, largely hidden until now, become visible. And all the heavenly beings celebrate—they worship—Jesus the king has begun to visibly reign. As you meditate on the Scripture below, I invite you to let the reality of the reign of Jesus now in our hearts and in history, though hidden, and the visible reign of Jesus that is coming lead you into fuller worship of the King of Kings.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.Arriving at a defining passage for our church, Revelation 7, I am encouraged by the words of G.K. Beale & David Campbell:  “The focus of the revelation John received from God is how the church is to conduct itself in the midst of an ungodly world.” I don't think it would come as a shock to anyone that we live in times marked more by humanism than holiness. No matter which channel you turn to, be it cable news, broadcast news or even a comedy channel, people are divided on every topic imaginable. We've become so busy fortifying our encampments against the opinions of others, we missed the Apostles' calling exhorting, encouraging and charging us “to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory,” (1 Thessalonians 2.12).Beloved, if we are offloading our calling for tomorrow in eternity instead of walking in the ways of Jesus today, we will be blind to the image of God in us and in others. When we dehumanize—and even demonize—those around us (yes, even our spiritual brothers and sisters!) we are failing to take to heart the prophetic and apocalyptic challenge of Revelation. John's foretelling of tomorrow is meant to shape not only the way we see overmorrow but bring actionable vision for how we live today.When we lift our eyes toward eternity, we don't see a monochromatic mass or single tribe. No, we “behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb!” (Revelation 7.9). Together at the throne of God we will sing of salvation and bless Christ's name forever! That, my friends, is something worth celebrating, and it's worth celebrating today! So today, may you and I, as God's priesthood among the nations, “walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace,” (Ephesians 4.1-3).

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

A Sunday mornings sermon by Pastor Brett Deal. I was challenged the other day by Melissa Archer's reflection on the worship found in the book of Revelation. She writes: “The hymns heard in heaven are to be the liturgy of the churches on earth.”    When we read the book of Revelation we find John alone on the isle of Patmos, seeking the presence of Jesus. Our faith is a communal faith, it is a pilgrimage together as God's people with Jesus and with one another. It is powerful to recognize when Jesus comes, in all His eternal glory and stands before John, He speaks to His disciple and through His disciple to all His people. Like the book of Leviticus, most of us set out to read the book of Revelation and make it through the letters to the seven churches of Asia before we lose steam. After those divine messages to the churches, the apocalyptic and prophetic nature of Revelation are overwhelming. And that's the point. The revelation is revealing. It's prophetically revealing of what's to come, but prophesy is meant to be applied today. In Revelation 4, we enter the throne room of heaven and are overawed by the overmorrow's worship! We are submerged by the flood of “Holy Holy Holy, is the Lord God Almighty!” It is the liturgy of eternity, and this revelatory glimpse of forever is meant to shape our worship today! When we see Christ in apocalyptic splendor, we are reminded not only of the eternal tomorrow, but of our creation. Through Jesus, all things were made (Colossians 1.16-20) and at the present, we are living within His creation. The time to worship Him is now. He is worthy to receive glory and honor and power, yes for all eternity, but nothing is stopping us from exalting Him today! Take time today, right now even while you read these words, and praise our Lord and God, who is worthy. For the one who was and is and is to come, is Holy Holy Holy!

A Sunday morning sermon by Jordan Crews. Today is Rosh Hashanah. Since the giving of the Law in the wilderness, around this time of year, we are invited once again to enter into His rest, to remember He is God and we are not. In Leviticus 23.23-25 we read: “Speak to the people of Israel, saying, In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you shall observe a day of solemn rest, a memorial proclaimed with blast of trumpets, a holy convocation. You shall not do any ordinary work, and you shall present a food offering to the Lord.” In the last few weeks, we've had so many new sons and daughters born into our fellowship. In birth, they've begun a new year, their first year. Next year this time we will celebrate once again their emergence in our lives. We commemorate it with rejoicing, with special food and song, with games and laughter. Today is like a birthday for all of us, no matter how old or young we are. It's a call to rest and remembrance. It's an invitation to rejoicing and awe. It's a celebration we share with one another. Today, is a cloak we pass from generation to generation. It is the words of Leviticus lived out by the children of the Exodus. It's a new opportunity to hear, “The Lord our God, the Lord is one,” (Deuteronomy 6.4b). It's a new day to live out our faith by loving the Lord our God “with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might” in such a way that His command is on our heart (6.5). It's a new change to pass the thing most precious to us on to our children, sitting together at home, walking together through life, and embodying our belief all the days of our lives (6.6-9).

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor David Singh. Leviticus is a prelude to the work of the Cross. It is a call to be a holy people who reflect the holiness of God. This is the attractiveness of mission that God's people who are sinful by nature are being redeemed and renewed.  Mission is an invitation to belong to a holy God and to move from death to life.  I am in India right now and it was here, exactly 53 years ago to the day on Sept 16th 1972, that I knelt next to my bed and accepted the offer of Christ to give my life to him. I can never forget the amazing feeling of being forgiven and of the love of Jesus that washed over me repeatedly like the waves of the sea. The Mission of God is two-fold in Leviticus. One is to constantly purify me from sin and to make me more holy like Him. The other is my call to the world and to reflect a life of holiness which, invites all peoples back to God.  Be Holy as He is Holy!

A Sunday morning sermon by Mike Godzwa. Have you ever watched someone work a loom? For thousands of years, diverse peoples and cultures have created clothing and tapestries using looms. These looms make it possible to weave vertical warp and horizontal weft threads. It's mesmerizing to watch. And it doesn't even have to be fast to be impressive. All it takes is one attempt to work a loom—like a novice musician attempting their first chords—to realize how impressive a skilled artisan truly is. When we view the Torah as a single tapestry, we recognize the designs of the exodus already woven in from the beginning. Long before we arrived at the first chapters of Exodus, we foresaw the pain and persecution of Israel interlaced with the compassionate character of God (Genesis 15). This, of course, flies in the face of our preferred view of life. We struggle to see the love of God in the midst of our suffering. We knot up trying to see how the warp of our experiences—good and bad—are sewn into place by the weft of God's presence. When we read the book of Exodus with Genesis in mind, as we see the warp of Israel's suffering our eyes should immediately start anticipating the weft of God's redeeming power for His people.  The tapestry of time and space reveals our loving God who compassionately moves toward His image bearers. This is not a utopian, unrealistic revelation. On this loom, we see the reality of human suffering and the Red Sea parted (Exodus 14). On this loom, we see the firepot of God's presence making a covenant with Abram and the burning bush before Moses (Genesis 15; Exodus 3).  Friend, looking at this Torah tapestry, we begin to recognize the patterns present in our own lives. Today, where does God want you to see the weft of His presence passing through the warp of your experience?

A Sunday morning sermon Pastor Brett Deal. Each generation is capable of passing on gifts to the next. At first, the value of those gifts often those gifts go unnoticed. For example, it was really important to my mother that I learn to sew. Perhaps it was because growing up on a farm to parents who'd gone through the Great Depression made basic skills and frugality paramount to my mother. She was surely right, as my little hyperactive body was set on pushing my shorts and shirts to their breaking point. My childhood was held together by a stitch and a prayer! People might think choosing the right stitch or where to join the pieces of cloth might by the trickier part of sewing, but for me, it's always been threading the needle. I've got to slow down enough to get the thin thread through—what can feel like—an impassible needle's eye. The hardest thing to do, most of the time, is starting out well. I think this is equally true of how we read the Bible and understand the mission of God. If you'll allow me a moment to mix my metaphors, when we rush our reading of Scripture, we start sewing before the thread's through the needle. We weave the disconnected needle through the material, in and out of pages and passages, but no seam emerges; no connection is made. Together, we are going back to the beginning, back to the book of Genesis. We are going to pick up the thread of God's mission and see how it reveals the character of God and our calling as His image bearers in this world; and as we unpack this gift given to us, let's make sure we keep passing it on to the next.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal. Before the start of my Senior year, I had a surprise chance to come to the States, so I set out from the island of Bioko in Central Africa for far off middle America. The whole way across the Atlantic, I had almost exclusively one thing on my mind: new music! I was barely settled in my room at a small hostel for missionary kids in college, and I was looking for a ride to record store. It might be hard to remember what it was like in the days before streaming and clouds and the digital revolution we're currently in, but back then, unless I wanted to buy grainy knock off cassettes in Nairobi, the land of music was America. Barely had my feet touched the ground and I was loading up sample CDs at the store. One of those CDS has become one my favorites, one I go back to time and time again. It's Purpose by Design by Fred Hammond & Radical for Christ. This album sprints out the gate on the first track, with "I Want My Destiny." You can feel the theology of the song as much as the funky slap bass. This song is a time capsule in my journey of faith. It sings of a life redeemed by Christ. It rejoices in a life recreated for purpose. It shouts of a passion to serve the One “Who brought me and is able to keep me” and to follow Jesus “to the place where He has need of me.” These lyrics provide the surround sound of Apostle Paul's album to the Philippians. His entire epistle, according to G. Walter Hansen is Paul “urging them to join with him in his own journey to know Christ.” Hearing his epistle, set to this soundtrack, we are challenged to recognize, in Christ, our eternal citizenship has current blessing bearer responsibilities. Our salvation is fire insurance. It's calling. It's purpose. We must start living out our citizenship now. Enthusiastically awaiting Jesus' return, “with the time we have / Let's waste not all on selfish reasons / But we must seek to please Him first / Find His will upon the Earth” so that “When they look back from death to birth / They'll say they've seen Him.”

A Sunday morning sermon by Peter DuMont. It is a truism in our culture that non-reciprocal giving can make people uneasy. People don't always like the thought of others receiving what they have not earned. Extravagant generosity like this can seem a disruption to the moral order.    This was part of the criticism levelled against Paul's message of righteousness given apart from the keeping of the law. If people are simply given righteousness as a free gift, what becomes of their motivation toward Godliness?    Paul answers this critique in our passage for Sunday. Yes, he puts no confidence in his own human accomplishments to make him worthy before God. Yes, he surrenders everything to receive from God a righteousness that rests only on faith in the Giver. But how Paul uses that gift is the key factor – he does not see himself as perfect by virtue of the gift of God; rather he responds to God's empowering gift by using it to pursue the full working of Godliness within himself that his own efforts could not accomplish. The free gift enables the accomplishment of what his own efforts could not achieve – movement toward “the upward call of God in Christ.”        Paul gives his own life as an example and invites the Philippian brothers and sisters to imitate him in doing so within their own lives.  There is a profound witness for us as those on a spiritual journey toward God. God meets us, gives us what we cannot secure ourselves, and invites us through his messengers to put that gift to use pressing further into the goodness and life of God.    Let's come to worship this week eager to receive the good gifts of God and put them to beautiful usage within our lives before God.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal. A striking parallel emerges as we move further into Paul's epistle. In chapter 2, we heard Paul singing his great Christ hymn (Philippians 2.6-11). Now, following the worthy examples of Timothy and Epaphroditus (2.19-30), “Paul's own story bears the imprint of Christ's way of self-emptying and exaltation” (Daniel Migliore).     Hearing Paul's personal story in chapter 3, alongside Christ's hymn in chapter 2, we find a kind of call and response, a divine voice and human echo. In both, we find a movement first to the depths then to the heights (Migliore). We sing of the profound self-emptying of Christ "who, though He was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, by taking the form of a servant,” (Philippians 2.6-7a). This is the glorious humility of Jesus toward us. In Paul's story, we see someone who discovers that all the things he held dear, all the pieces of his former piety, were useless, refuse, loss. His descent is discovering his life has been upside down. All the bona fides became meaningless when Paul, having fallen to the ground, heard the voice of Jesus (Acts 9).     This led to the parallel upswing of movement to the heights. In Christ's obedience to the Father, enduring the cross, dying in our place, God the Father “highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father,” (2.9-11). For Paul, it is in knowing Christ that he found himself drawn upward. It is in Jesus he found the goal to press toward, “the upward call of God in Christ Jesus,” (3.14).     Friend, as we increasingly identify with Christ in His suffering, we find ourselves embraced more completely in His glory. Our salvation becomes more secure as we are justified by Christ, sanctified by the in-working of His Spirit and look hopefully for the eternal day we are glorified in resurrection (3.9-11).

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal. In the eye of the hurricane, swept up in the majesty of God, Job says, “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you,” (Job 42.5). That must be one of the most striking verses in the Bible. It confesses a heartfelt belief, something held, something heard; and confirms it to be true. Naveen Rao interprets Job's confessional words through the cultural lens of smriti and shruti. Rao sees God's arrival in the whirlwind, asking questions and pressing Job's positions, as the Lord showing his servant—and us—the difference between smriti and shruti. Smriti is what we remember. It's human memory and traditional understanding. It's our Sunday School theology. Shruti goes beyond smriti. Shruti is divine revelation. It is the personal experience with God that transforms us. Drawing to the end of the book of Job and the many smriti takeaways we will carry with us, bits of information, scraps of new perspective, what we need most of all is shruti. As followers of Jesus (who will experience pain and suffering), we need a divine encounter with God that transforms us more and more into His likeness (2 Corinthians 3.18).  One place we can start is to recognize that the Lord answers our humble prayer. Through the entire book, we've heard Job crying out for his day in court with God. We've heard the voices of his friends, weighing him down with condemnation. In the whirlwind, we not only hear the Lord, but we see His presence. Centuries later, a group of disciples would gather in an upper room to join their voices in humble prayer, not knowing what was to come after, they obediently waited for the promise of God the Father. There, among men and women, young and old, gathered in humble prayer, the whirlwind of God's presence swept into the room, and the disciples, empowered by the Spirit of God, were never the same (Acts 1.4; 2.1-4).  Friend, what was true for Job and for Jesus' disciples is true for you and me. Smriti got us here, but only shruti will guide us where we're meant to go. So, the question is: are you ready?

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal. In the eye of the hurricane, swept up in the majesty of God, Job says, “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you,” (Job 42.5). That must be one of the most striking verses in the Bible. It confesses a heartfelt belief, something held, something heard; and confirms it to be true. Naveen Rao interprets Job's confessional words through the cultural lens of smriti and shruti. Rao sees God's arrival in the whirlwind, asking questions and pressing Job's positions, as the Lord showing his servant—and us—the difference between smriti and shruti. Smriti is what we remember. It's human memory and traditional understanding. It's our Sunday School theology. Shruti goes beyond smriti. Shruti is divine revelation. It is the personal experience with God that transforms us. Drawing to the end of the book of Job and the many smriti takeaways we will carry with us, bits of information, scraps of new perspective, what we need most of all is shruti. As followers of Jesus (who will experience pain and suffering), we need a divine encounter with God that transforms us more and more into His likeness (2 Corinthians 3.18).  One place we can start is to recognize that the Lord answers our humble prayer. Through the entire book, we've heard Job crying out for his day in court with God. We've heard the voices of his friends, weighing him down with condemnation. In the whirlwind, we not only hear the Lord, but we see His presence. Centuries later, a group of disciples would gather in an upper room to join their voices in humble prayer, not knowing what was to come after, they obediently waited for the promise of God the Father. There, among men and women, young and old, gathered in humble prayer, the whirlwind of God's presence swept into the room, and the disciples, empowered by the Spirit of God, were never the same (Acts 1.4; 2.1-4).  Friend, what was true for Job and for Jesus' disciples is true for you and me. Smriti got us here, but only shruti will guide us where we're meant to go. So, the question is: are you ready?

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal. What must it have been like for Job when God showed up! One second the young Elihu is encouraging Job to “Keep listening to the thunder of His voice and the rumbling that comes from His mouth [because] God thunders wondrously with His voice; He does great things that we cannot comprehend,” and “then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind” (Job 37.2,5; 38.1)!!! Job's been desperate for God to show up, to answer His unanswered appeals. Maybe you've felt like that, thinking, “If God would just show up and answer me, I could move on with my life!” What Job experienced—all the extreme audiovisuals aside—is the same God who speaks to us today. He begins by making us aware of His presence. He doesn't always show up in a hurricane or in grand visions (check out Ezekiel 1). Sometimes, God reveals His presence quietly with a still small voice (1 Kings 19.11-13). God makes us aware of His presence and then He answers (but probably not in the way we expected). God answers us like He did Job: with questions. Yes, questions! This can hardly feel like what we were waiting for! More questions? Really?! Eritrean theologian Tewoldemedhin Habtu, reflecting on Job 38-39, believes, “Questions are an effective way of teaching, because they force the learner to think for himself.” Friends, isn't that just like God? His presence ministers to us and then His questions broaden our tunnel vision perspective. We want God to make sense of our suffering, but instead, God lovingly (and at times quite amusingly) asks us questions far beyond our capacity. God's questions generously invited Job to loosen his grip on bitterness and disillusionment by contemplating God's kindness toward His whole creation. As you spend time in God's presence this week, give your questions a rest and listen to the questions He's asking you. Listen to the voice of the One who endows the heart with wisdom and gives understanding to the mind (Job 38.36). You might be surprised what you learn.

A Sunday sermon by Pastor Brett Deal. I once found myself in conversation with a futurist. He'd published several books and was well-known for his study of the future and his predictions on where things were headed. At times it was as if he was looking past the curve of the earth and seeing what tomorrow was bringing. When I asked him how he went about making his predictions for the future, his response was just as surprising. He said the best way to predict what will happen tomorrow is to be fully present today. What a short answer but such a tall order. As we've been reading the book of Ruth, we've seen Naomi overcome by the suffering of yesterday, overwhelmed with the difficulties of today, and full of anxieties for tomorrow. It would be easy to predict a tragic ending if this was the sum and substance of the book! But all of that is outweighed by the actions of two people. Ruth's friendship and Boaz' covenant obedience foreshadow the hope of chapter four. If we've read each chapter well, the kindness of God, poured out through Ruth and Boaz into the life of Naomi, tells us where the story's going. Friends, being present today in Christ, we know what the future holds, we can see where our story's headed. In Jesus, the hope of overmorrow colors every day and every dawning. In Jesus, eternal hope is written on every page and every paragraph of our lives. We feel this hope in the Holy Spirit's invitation to unpack our past. We see it in the fellowship of our brothers and sisters in Christ. We perceive it in the empowering move of the Spirit calling us to deeper faith, to greater trust. Knowing the kindness of God, we are giving new space to surrender our anxieties, bringing our prayers and petitions to the Father with hopeful confidence, as the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guards our hearts our minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4.6-7). Today, be present in someone else's life. Share with them the hope of overmorrow, your hope for eternity.