Mosaic Church RVA

Have you ever gone quiet about Jesus because you didn't want to sound like a fool? Paul's "I am not ashamed of the gospel" is a defiant word aimed right at that instinct, because this news is the power of God to save all kinds of people, and it clothes sinners in a righteousness they could never produce on their own. You can't save anyone. But you can be a faithful tool in the hand of the God who saved you — so take courage, and open your mouth.

You never graduate from the gospel. Paul had never set foot in Rome, yet he was eager to preach the good news to people who already believed it — because the same message that saves us is the message that grows us. An inwardly held faith doesn't get famous; Rome's was, because ordinary believers kept reminding one another what Christ had done. Encourage one person in the gospel today. Then do it again tomorrow.

You can't rebuild without a foundation. As we begin a new series in Romans, Paul introduces himself as a servant summoned and commissioned by his King, and the same King has summoned and commissioned everyone who belongs to Jesus. From the garden to David's throne to the empty tomb, God's promises have never failed, and that faithfulness is the ground we build on. If you've been content to show up, sing along, and head out the door, hear the call: you are essential, and you're meant to help others build.

In Luke 15 Jesus tells a parable about a man with two sons—both estranged from their father in different ways. Whether we've wandered far from home or toiled in self-righteousness, this passage points us to the gracious Father who seeks His lost children, restores them by His mercy, and calls them to find their fulfillment in Him.

What does it mean to say, “The Lord is my shepherd”? Psalm 23 calls us to remember who leads us and who cares for us—not only in green pastures and beside still waters, but through the valleys, in the presence of our enemies, and all the way home. Because our Shepherd is also our King, we can trust His steadfast love, His provision, and His protection, as we rest and rejoice in the sure hope of dwelling with Him forever.

You will never get to the edges of God — and that's good news. Paul, after eleven chapters explaining salvation, runs out of words and breaks into song over a God whose judgments can't be searched out, who can't be advised, and who can't be repaid. If you've been carrying the weight of needing to know why, this passage lifts it off you. The call is simple, and it will take the rest of your life: live in worship.

Finishing your to-do list won't make your life fruitful. Paul offers a different measure: a freedom that isn't the absence of constraints but the presence of the right ones, and a Spirit-grown character that shows up in your attitudes long before your actions. He also names the sins that hide in plain sight — the envy that looks like hard work and earns you praise, the rift caused by one well-placed word. If you're tired of keeping up the facade, the call is to abide in Christ, walk in the Spirit, and trust him for fruit only he can grow.

When life gets too noisy or too uncertain, prayer is usually the first thing to go. Scripture records its first prayers in Genesis 4 — people called on the name of the LORD only once they realized God's rescue would take longer than they'd hoped — and that recognition of need is what our prayers have quietly lost. Too often they've become fire-and-forget requests sent into the ether, when they should be pleading, expectant, and full of praise before the sorrow ever lifts. If you've stopped praying for that friend, that person too far gone, that situation too dire — press back in.

Whose church do you think this is? John closes his letters with two men set side by side: Gaius, who opened his home and his wallet to traveling missionaries he'd never met, and Diotrephes, who liked to put himself first and shut the door on the people he should have welcomed. The difference between them isn't personality — it's whether love or self-preservation is running the show. As we finish our series in John's letters, the call is simple and costly: set aside pride, welcome others, and remember that this church is God's, not ours.

You never get past Jesus. John writes to a church surrounded by deceivers, and his word is not "go on ahead" but "abide" — hold fast to the teaching of Christ and to the old commandment to love one another. That means being careful whose voice you platform, because someone is always following your lead. If you've been tempted to chase what's new, this is a call back to the basics — and back to the family of God you already belong to.

In this message from the “One Another” series, we explore Paul's command to “encourage one another and build one another up.” Looking at the Greek word parakaleo—to come alongside and call—we discover that biblical encouragement is far more than positive words. It is the ministry of reminding one another who we are in Christ and helping each other persevere in faith.

You can know you have eternal life — not hope it, not guess it, but know it. Closing his letter, John repeats “we know” six times in nine verses, binding a handful of scattered final thoughts into one thread of assurance. If you've ever wondered whether your faith is real, these last words are for you.

Whose word do you stake your life on? John builds a courtroom case in which three witnesses (the water, the blood, and the Spirit) agree that Jesus truly came in the flesh and that eternal life is found in him alone. But the greater testimony isn't only historical; it's the Spirit's witness already at work in the believer, the changed life that proves the gospel true. To trust the word of men over the testimony of God is to call God a liar, so the question lands close: do you have the Son, and will you take God at his word?

What does it look like for a church to truly grow in maturity together? In this sermon from Colossians 3:1–17, we explore Paul's call to “teach and admonish one another” as a central part of life in the body of Christ. Teaching is more than transferring information—it's helping others apply truth to real life, rooted in relationships and grounded in the Word of Christ dwelling richly within us. At the same time, admonishment is not criticism, but loving warning—reminding one another of our identity in Christ and calling each other back when we drift.Together, teaching and admonishing form the foundation of discipleship. Teaching without admonishment leads to knowledge without transformation; admonishment without teaching leads to discouragement without hope. But when both are practiced in love, they produce healthy believers who grow in spiritual maturity, marked by the fruit of the Spirit.This message invites us to step into both roles—as learners and teachers—within our faith family. As we pursue deeper relationships, rooted in love and accountability, we become a community that builds one another up toward Christlikeness.

Would you stake your life on what you claim to believe? Saving faith is more than knowing the gospel or agreeing it's true — it's trust deep enough to stake eternity on Jesus. And that same faith is your victory here and now: not just at the end of the age, but in the daily fight against sin, where God's commands stop feeling like a burden and start looking like love. When the world lies to you — and when you lie to yourself — faith in the Son of God is how you overcome.

You didn't start this. Before you ever turned toward God, he had already turned toward you, and everything you now call faith is the overflow of that first love. It can't be split into parts you keep and parts you decline; to be loved by God is to receive all of it at once, his Spirit, his abiding presence, and a love for others you never manufactured on your own. The love you give away is the surest sign you were loved first.

You can't love your way into being loved by God — it runs the other direction. This passage strips love down to one staggering claim: God loved you first, at the cost of his own Son, while you were still unlovely, and that received love is the only kind you can truly give away. So the self-giving, others-focused, keep-reaching-for-the-unlovely love you're called to isn't something you manufacture — it's proof that God abides in you. No one has ever seen God, but the watching world sees him when his people love like this.

What comes to mind when you hear the word “submission”—and why does it feel so uncomfortable? In this message, we step into Paul's call to a countercultural life of mutual submission, where love expresses itself through humility, service, and choosing the interests of others over our own. Rooted in the example of Christ and empowered by God's grace, this kind of community becomes a powerful witness to the world. The question is simple but searching: where is God inviting you to lay yourself down so that others might be lifted up?

Not everyone who claims to speak for God actually does — so how do you tell the true voice from the counterfeit? John won't let you choose between your brain and the Spirit: real discernment is both, a mind anchored in who Jesus really is and the Spirit bearing witness to the truth in your heart. The test is sharp — does this teaching confess Jesus Christ come in the flesh, or quietly reshape him into something else? Take heart, because the One in you is greater than the one in the world; if you've grown lazy in the Word or thin in prayer, this is your call to renew your strength.

Talk is cheap — and you know it. In this passage, John names the gap between the love we claim and the love we live: the person who says they'd die for a brother but won't part with their stuff. Using Cain as the anti-pattern and Christ as the standard, John presses us toward a love that shows up in deeds and truth, not words. If God's love has actually changed you, it won't stay quiet — it will move your hands.

Sin doesn't fit you anymore. In this passage, John uses some of his sharpest language in the whole letter to remind believers that we have been born of God, that his seed abides in us, and that the Son of God appeared to destroy the very works we once called home. So if you've made peace with sin in any corner of your life, this sermon is a mirror — and a call back to who you really are.

How will you feel when Jesus returns — overjoyed, or ashamed? In this sermon from 1 John 2:28–3:3, Pastor Greg presses us back to the heart of the Christian life: abide in Christ, and let the hope of seeing him face to face shape every step today. The ultimate joy of eternity is not a shinier version of this world or even reunion with loved ones — it is finally beholding God as he is, and being made like him. Don't be surprised by heaven; live now as the children of God you already are.

What does it really mean to love the people closest to us in the family of faith? In this message, we hear Jesus' simple but weighty command to love one another as he has loved us—and we explore how that kind of love goes beyond affection to become self-giving, God-powered, and unmistakably visible. Drawing from Scripture and lived experience, we're invited to see love as the very glue that builds unity in the church and bears witness to the world. This sermon asks a practical question with eternal weight: who is God calling you to know, serve, forgive, and love more intentionally this week?

What do you do when the world feels unsteady and even trusted voices fall away? John's answer is not to try harder or learn more — it's to remember what God has already done for you. You have been anointed by the Holy Spirit, you already know the truth, and you have been promised eternal life in Christ. The call today is simple: rest on the solid rock, hold fast to what you have heard from the beginning, and abide in him.

What drives you? In this passage, John draws a sharp line: you either love God or you love the world, and you can't have both. But the "world" John warns against isn't God's good creation — it's the corrupted system of desire, pride, and self-sufficiency that is already passing away because of what Christ accomplished. The call today is to reorder your loves, invest in what endures, and abide in the God who holds you forever.

The resurrection isn't just something that happened to Jesus — it's for us, too. In this Easter sermon from Romans 6:1–11, Pastor Greg unpacks how union with Christ means that his death and his resurrection are both applied to everyone who trusts in him. If you've ever wondered why the resurrection matters for your everyday life, this message is for you. He is risen indeed — and so are we.

Do you know the Jesus whose resurrection you celebrate? In this Palm Sunday sermon, we walk through Luke's account of the triumphal entry and find a Jesus who is sovereign, worthy of all worship, and compassionate enough to weep over those who would kill him. If any of those are missing from your picture of Jesus, something needs to change.

The commandment to love is as old as Scripture itself — and yet, for those who have been transformed by the gospel, it is brand new. In this passage, John reminds us that love is not just a rule to follow but a reality that God has made true in us. After testing our assurance with the sharp contrast of light and darkness, John pauses to remind every believer of what they already possess: forgiveness, knowledge of the Father, and victory over the evil one. The call is simple but profound — stop striving to become something and start living as who you already are: people of love, saved by grace, and confident in Christ.

John calls believers to take sin seriously while resting in the sure hope that Jesus Christ the righteous is our Advocate and the propitiation for our sins. He then gives a clear test of assurance: those who truly know and abide in Christ will keep his commandments and increasingly walk as he walked. This passage invites honest self-examination—not to crush the struggling saint, but to lead weary sinners back to real grace that forgives, transforms, and bears fruit in worshipful obedience.

Worship is more than a song—it's a life bowed before God. In this message from Micah 6:6-8, we consider what true worship looks like beyond Sunday morning, as God calls His people to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with Him. Rooted in the finished work of Christ, believers are invited to live every day with hearts surrendered in faithful obedience.

What does it look like to live an honest life before God? In this passage, the apostle John paints a vivid picture of two ways of living — one marked by fellowship, confession, and the cleansing blood of Jesus, and another marked by denial, self-deception, and distance from God. The good news is that God is faithful and just to forgive, and the blood of Christ doesn't just cover us once but continues to cleanse us as we walk with him. Join us as we zoom in on John's masterful contrast between light and darkness and ask the question: which one describes your life?

John opens his letter with a bold claim: he heard, saw, and touched the eternal God in the flesh. But he didn't write just to inform — he wrote to invite his readers into a fellowship that's held together by something far stronger than shared interests or opinions. In this kickoff to our 1 John series, we explore why the gospel is about a person and not a system, why real love means getting to the gospel, and how a holy discontentment for the growth of God's kingdom reorders everything else in our lives.

God calls elders to shepherd the church with willing, eager, Christlike care—leading by example, feeding the saints with the Word, and protecting the flock from error under the watch of the Chief Shepherd. From the qualifications of 1 Timothy 3 to the warnings of Acts 20, this sermon clarifies that spiritual authority is exercised as humble service, not domination. As Mosaic considers new elders, the church is invited to pray, to value mature godly character, and to grow in stability through sound doctrine and faithful shepherding.

Because Jesus has opened a new and living way by His blood and serves as our great High Priest, believers can draw near to God with bold confidence and full assurance of faith. On the strength of God's proven faithfulness, the church is called to hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering. And as the Day draws near, we must not neglect meeting together, but actively stir one another up to love, good works, and real ministry through encouragement and prayer.

As we wait for the new heavens and new earth where righteousness dwells, Peter calls believers to be found in Christ diligent in holiness and marked by peace. The Lord's patience is not slowness but salvation, so we must not be carried away by twisted teaching but steadied by the Scriptures. By growing in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ, we are prepared for eternity and live now for his glory.

Peter stirs up the church's sincere mind by reminding us that God's Word has always promised both judgment and renewal, even when scoffers mock Christ's return and encourage lawless living. The God who created by his word and once judged the world with water will, by that same word, bring the Day of the Lord—patiently saving his beloved, yet surely exposing all things in refining fire. Because Jesus has paid for our sins, we wait with hope, pursuing holiness now as we long for the new heavens and new earth where righteousness dwells.

Peter warns the church that false teachers are marked not only by what they say, but by what they love—arrogance, sensuality, and greed that enslave both them and those they influence. As the passage exposes their emptiness and promised “freedom,” it also makes plain God's certain judgment on those who know the truth yet turn back to corruption. Believers are called to stay on guard, hate their sin, and keep their eyes on Jesus by following leaders whose lives are being shaped by the Word.

Jesus warns against practicing righteousness to be seen and calls his people to a quiet, genuine obedience that seeks the Father's reward rather than human approval. As he exposes the false treasures that compete for our hearts, he reorients us to seek first God's kingdom and trust him for daily provision. In Christ, we are a new creation—so as you examine your heart approaching a new year, turn from performance and pursue sincere devotion that pleases the God who sees in secret.

God's glory is unapproachable for sinners, yet in Jesus Christ the eternal Word took on flesh so that we could truly see His glory—full of grace and truth. In the incarnation, God does not wait for us to climb up to Him; He comes down to meet us, making propitiation for our sins and becoming our sympathetic High Priest. This Christmas, hear His invitation to turn from sin and draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, where mercy and help are found in Christ.

God has proven His perfect faithfulness across redemptive history, calling His people to trust Him rather than live in anxious self-reliance. From Noah to Abraham to Mary, the Lord keeps His promises and does what is impossible with man, showing that he is trustworthy. This Christmas, lay aside every weight, submit to Christ the King, and come to Him for the rest He gives through His cross and coming kingdom.

Isaiah proclaims that God will pierce the gloom of judgment with a great light, bringing joy, freedom, and enduring peace to a people who walked in deep darkness. This hope is fulfilled in Jesus Christ—the promised Son who reigns with justice and righteousness and will ultimately end oppression and conflict forever. Because the zeal of the LORD will accomplish it, sinners are invited to repent, trust in Christ, and hold fast to sure hope even in present darkness.

Jesus has been divisive from the beginning. In this sermon, we look at Herod's reaction to the birth of Christ, then contrast that with how the magi responded. Do you see yourself in these men? Are you willing to submit to Jesus as King, or will you maintain your own kingdom?