There’s something in us that longs for deep family connection and unity, and when we find it, it becomes precious to us. Family is home. Who is your family? Who feels like home for you?
Healthy, Christ-centered preaching is an essential part of every Sunday worship service, and you have an active role in that. Preaching isn’t just a boring, irrelevant lecture. God calls us to something far better.
Do you realize that Jesus considered you precious? He considered it a joy to redeem you. That’s the love we are rooted in. It’s not our own fickle, fleeting, weak love. It is our Lord’s eternal, unshakable, true love. Jesus is worth the pain. He’s worth the awkward, sheepish shame that so often comes with repentance. He’s worth imprisonment. He’s worth celibacy and ridicule. He’s worth the cost of obedience.
We’re a gnarly, messy bunch of branches. We didn’t earn the life Jesus fills us with, and we’ve still got a long way to go before we’re completely pruned. But God in His infinite love and power and mercy chose to graft us to Jesus so that we might abide in Him. And this invitation is open to all.
If you know anything about the book of Job, this might seem like an odd choice of passage for a thanksgiving message. Most of the book of Job shows a miserable man, deep in suffering, longing for death, looking for an explanation of why God would allow a righteous man to suffer so horribly. Job’s
This sermon was preached for RUF at CNU’s Virtual Large Group on April 1, 2020. RUF’s Large Group is a weekly worship service that has now shifted to live-streaming on YouTube thanks to COVID-19. Our passage comes from Jonah 2:1-10. 1 Then Jonah prayed to the Lord his God from the stomach of the fish,
Billy Graham famously used to say that the Bible is a love letter from God to humanity. That’s a pretty flowery, pleasant, popular message; I don’t know if I entirely agree with this, I don’t know if that’s a precise enough summary of the whole of Scripture. At the same time, I won’t say it’d
If I’m honest with myself, I’m not okay with being not okay. Don’t get me wrong. In one sense, this is holy…But there’s another way that not being okay with being not okay is evil and wrong. Instead of hating my sin, I tend to hate myself for sinning at all. I expect myself to be perfect—sinless—right now. Whenever I feel I’ve sinned, I’m thrown into despair. That’s wrong. Here’s why.