Tomorrow is Sunday — and I’m grateful to start 2026 gathered with my faith family at Christ Community Church.
Hebrews 10:23-25 reminds us why we gather. We come to “hold fast the confession of our hope” — that Jesus is Lord — and be encouraged by others who have been saved by the same grace. We gather to “stir up one another to love and good works”, not as spectators but as participants in what God is doing among us. We gather often, because the Lord has given us a church family and lovingly warns us against “neglecting to meet together”. We gather to “encourage one another”, lifting weary hearts with the reminder that this broken, fallen world isn’t all there is. And every time we gather, we are being prepared for a greater gathering that is coming — shaped week by week into a people ready for the presence of the Lord — the day Revelation 7:9-10 describes when a numberless multitude stands before the throne of God, praising and glorifying the Lamb.
That’s also why we do these “Songs for Sunday” posts. They are a simple invitation to prepare — to read the Scriptures we’ll read aloud in worship, to sing or listen to the songs we’ll sing together, and to come ready to worship with full hearts and clear hope. Preparation doesn’t replace worship; in this case, it deepens tomorrow’s worship it because the preparation itself is worshiping Jesus today.
Sunday’s coming. Let’s come ready to hold fast, encourage one another, and make much of Jesus — together.
17For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ. 18Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men. 19For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous. 20Now the law came in to increase the trespass, but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, 21so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through righteousness leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.
19Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! 20My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. 21But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
22The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; 23they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. 24“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him.”
This phase will have us reading about Jesus’s life in the gospel of Luke, the formation of the Church in Acts, and walk through the theology found in Paul’s letters that the Church needs to know about and live out the eternal life given by grace through faith in Jesus.
Below, you’ll find brief synopses of each book in this phase to help you understand the scope of the book and most importantly, how it fits into the full Story of the Bible.
When you click on each day’s link, you will find a link to audio, a summary of the chapter, a key verse from the chapter, and opportunities for reflection and outreach.
We’re moving into Paul’s epistles, which we’ll go through chronologically rather than in the order they appear in our Bibles.
Ephesians
Ephesians is a letter written by the apostle Paul around A.D. 60–62 while he was imprisoned in Rome (Ephesians 3:1, 6:20; Acts 28). Although traditionally addressed “to the Ephesians,” the letter was likely intended as a circular letter for several churches in the region of Asia Minor, with Ephesus as its primary hub (Ephesians 1:1). Paul had spent several years ministering in and around Ephesus (Acts 19:10), but the letter’s broad and impersonal tone suggests he is addressing a wider group of believers. Rather than responding to a specific crisis, Paul writes to remind the church who they are in Christ and how they are to live in light of God’s saving work.
At the heart of Ephesians is the breathtaking truth that God is uniting all things in Christ (Ephesians 1:9–10). Paul begins by praising God for the spiritual blessings believers have received “in Christ,” including election, redemption through Christ’s blood, forgiveness of sins, and the sealing of the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 1:3–14). He then reminds readers of what God has done for them personally: though they were once dead in sin, God made them alive by grace through faith—not by works (Ephesians 2:1–10). This saving grace does more than rescue individuals; it creates a new people. In Christ, Jews and Gentiles who were once divided are now reconciled to God and to one another, forming one new humanity and one household of God (Ephesians 2:11–22).
In the story of the Bible, Ephesians lifts our eyes to the cosmic scope of redemption. What God promised throughout the Old Testament has come to fulfillment in Jesus Christ, and the church now stands at the center of God’s plan to display His wisdom and grace to the world—and even to the heavenly powers (Ephesians 3:10–11). Christ reigns over all authority and power, and the church is His body, filled by Him and united under His headship (Ephesians 1:20–23). This new covenant people exists by grace alone and lives for the glory of God, awaiting the final consummation of all things in Christ.
The second half of Ephesians shows how these glorious truths shape everyday life. Because believers have been called into one body, they are urged to walk in unity, holiness, love, and wisdom (Ephesians 4:1–6, 5:1–2). Paul applies the gospel to relationships in the home, the church, and the world, showing what it looks like to live as those who belong to Christ (Ephesians 5:21–6:9). The letter closes with a call to stand firm in spiritual battle, clothed in the armor God provides, relying on His strength rather than our own (Ephesians 6:10–18). Ephesians reminds us that the church does not create its identity—it receives it from Christ—and then lives it out for His glory until He brings all things to completion.
Colossians is a letter written by the apostle Paul, with Timothy alongside him, to believers in the small city of Colossae (Colossians 1:1). Paul likely wrote during his imprisonment, most commonly connected to his Roman imprisonment, around A.D. 60–62 (Colossians 4:3, 10, 18; Acts 28). The letter was carried by Tychicus, and Onesimus traveled with him (Colossians 4:7–9), linking Colossians closely with Philemon and placing it in the same “Prison Letters” cluster as Ephesians. Paul had not personally visited Colossae (Colossians 2:1). Instead, the church seems to have been founded through the ministry of Epaphras, who likely came to faith during Paul’s years in Ephesus and then returned home to proclaim the gospel (Colossians 1:7, Acts 19:10).
Paul writes because a dangerous teaching was unsettling the church and threatening their confidence in Christ. While scholars debate the exact label for the error, the letter itself makes clear what was happening: voices were pressuring believers to look beyond Jesus for spiritual “fullness,” protection, or maturity—through additional spiritual intermediaries, mystical experiences, and a regimen of rules or ascetic practices (Colossians 2:8, 16–23). There are Jewish elements (festivals, Sabbaths) and spiritual/angelic elements (“worship of angels”), along with the sense that special insight or extra steps were needed to be truly secure (Colossians 2:16–18). Epaphras was so concerned that he sought Paul’s help, and Paul responds by pulling the church back to the center: Christ is enough, and nothing must be allowed to diminish His supremacy or the believer’s identity “in Him” (Colossians 2:9–10).
In the overall story of the Bible, Colossians declares with stunning clarity who Jesus is and what His saving work has accomplished. Christ is the image of the invisible God, the creator and sustainer of all things—visible and invisible—and the One through whom God will reconcile all things to Himself (Colossians 1:15–20). He is not one spiritual option among many; He is Lord over every power and authority, and in Him the fullness of deity dwells bodily (Colossians 2:9–10, 15). Because believers are united to Christ, they share in His death and resurrection life: they have been delivered from darkness, forgiven, and brought into the kingdom of the beloved Son (Colossians 1:13–14, 2:11–14). That means they do not need other mediators, rituals, or spiritual add-ons to make them complete—God has already made them full in Christ (Colossians 2:10).
Colossians also shows how a Christ-centered gospel produces a Christ-shaped life. Since believers have been raised with Christ, they are called to set their minds on the things above, put off the old patterns of sin, and put on the new virtues that reflect the character of Jesus—compassion, kindness, humility, patience, love, and thankful worship (Colossians 3:1–17). Paul brings that transformation into everyday relationships and households, showing that the lordship of Christ reaches into the ordinary places of life (Colossians 3:18–4:1). In the end, Colossians is both a warning and an encouragement: don’t be captured by man-made religion or fear-driven spirituality, but hold fast to Christ—the Head of the church, the Savior who reconciles, and the victorious Lord who is sufficient for His people in every way (Colossians 1:18–20, 2:19).
January 11 — Colossians 1
January 12 — Colossians 2
January 13 — Colossians 3
January 14 — Colossians 4
Philemon is a short, one-chapter personal letter from the apostle Paul (with Timothy named alongside him) to a believer named Philemon, a leader in Colossae whose home hosted a local church (Philemon 1–2). It was written during Paul’s imprisonment, most likely in Rome, around A.D. 60–62, at roughly the same time as Colossians, and it travels with the same delivery team—Tychicus and Onesimus (Colossians 4:7–9). That connection matters: when the church in Colossae gathered to hear Colossians read aloud—Christ’s supremacy, the believer’s new identity “in Him,” and the call to put on love and forgiveness (Colossians 1:15–20, 2:9–14, 3:12–14)—Philemon would have heard those truths first, and then received a second letter that applied them to a real situation in his own home.
The situation centers on Onesimus, who had wronged Philemon in some way (likely by running away and possibly causing financial loss), but who encountered Paul and was converted to Christ (Philemon 10, 18). Paul then sends Onesimus back—not merely to “return property,” but to pursue reconciliation shaped by the gospel. The heart of Paul’s appeal is that the gospel transforms people and relationships: Onesimus, once “useless,” has become truly “useful” (Philemon 11), and Philemon is urged to receive him “no longer as a bondservant but more than a bondservant, as a beloved brother” (Philemon 16). Paul could have commanded, but for love’s sake he appeals, even offering to cover any debt Onesimus owes (Philemon 8–9, 18–19). In the story of redemption, Philemon is a small letter with a big message: because Christ has forgiven and reconciled us to God, believers are called to extend that same grace toward one another—letting Jesus be “over us” not only in doctrine, but in everyday obedience, forgiveness, and restored fellowship (Philemon 15–17; cf. Colossians 3:13).
Philippians is a warm, joy-filled letter written by the apostle Paul to the Christians in Philippi, a Roman colony in Macedonia and the first place in Europe where Paul established a church (Acts 16:12–40). From the beginning, this congregation had a special partnership with Paul: Lydia was the first convert, the Philippian jailer was brought to faith through God’s dramatic deliverance, and the church consistently supported Paul’s gospel work through prayer and generous giving (Acts 16:14–15, 33–34; Philippians 1:5, 4:15–16). Paul writes while imprisoned—most likely in Rome around A.D. 60–62—since he mentions the “praetorium” and “Caesar’s household,” and he speaks as though his case could soon end either in release or death (Philippians 1:13, 20–23; 4:22; cf. Acts 28:16, 30–31). The immediate occasion includes the Philippians’ gift sent through Epaphroditus and Paul’s desire to send news back—especially that Epaphroditus recovered from a serious illness and is returning to them (Philippians 2:25–30, 4:10–18).
Even so, Philippians is far more than a thank-you note. Its heartbeat is encouragement—calling believers to live as citizens of a heavenly kingdom in the middle of a proud Roman culture (Philippians 1:27, 3:20). Paul shows what that looks like through repeated themes of gospel-centered unity, humble service, steady joy, and faithful perseverance even in suffering (Philippians. 1:27–30, 2:1–4, 4:4–7). The centerpiece of the letter is the stunning portrait of Jesus in Philippians 2:5–11: though truly divine, Christ humbled Himself, took the form of a servant, and obeyed to the point of death on a cross—therefore God highly exalted Him so that every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord (Philippians 2:6–11). That Christ-shaped pattern then becomes the model for the church: Paul points to Christ first, and then to living examples like Timothy and Epaphroditus, urging the Philippians to put others first and to labor together for the gospel (Philippians 2:19–30).
Philippians also makes clear that spiritual growth is not passive. Paul presses the church to keep moving forward—never settling into spiritual complacency—because the gospel is too glorious and the world too dangerous for “coasting” (Philippians 1:25, 3:12–16). He warns them about false teachers who would replace Christ with confidence in the flesh, reminding them that righteousness comes through faith in Christ, not law-keeping or religious status (Philippians 3:2–9). Yet even while calling them to effort—“work out your own salvation with fear and trembling”—Paul anchors their confidence in God’s active grace: “for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Philippians 2:12–13). In short, Philippians teaches a church how to live with deep joy and deep humility, holding tightly to Christ, standing together in unity, and pressing on until the day when their King is fully revealed (Philippians 1:6, 10; 3:14, 20–21).
January 16 — Philippians 1
January 17 — Philippians 2
January 18 — Philippians 3
January 19 — Philippians 4
1 Timothy
First Timothy is a pastoral letter from the apostle Paul to his younger coworker Timothy, whom Paul calls his “true child in the faith” (1 Timothy 1:2). Timothy had traveled and ministered alongside Paul for years (Acts 16:1–3, 19:22; Philippians 1:1), and at the time of this letter Paul had left him in Ephesus to help strengthen the church and confront serious problems there (1 Timothy 1:3). Ephesus was a major and influential city, and Paul had already warned that dangerous teachers would arise and draw people away from the truth (Acts 20:29–30). First Timothy addresses that exact kind of threat: teaching that sounded religious but produced confusion, pride, quarrels, and greed rather than love and godliness (1 Timothy 1:4–7, 6:3–10). Although some modern scholars dispute Paul’s authorship, the letter plainly names Paul as its author (1 Timothy 1:1), reflects a strong personal and autobiographical tone, and was received as Pauline and authoritative very early in the church’s life.
The timing likely fits after Paul’s first Roman imprisonment (Acts 28:16, 30–31). On the traditional understanding, Paul was released, continued mission work, and then later faced a second imprisonment that led to his death. In that window, 1 Timothy would fall in the early-to-mid 60s (often dated around A.D. 62–64), written from an unknown location while Timothy labored in and around Ephesus (1 Timothy 1:3, 3:14–15). Paul hopes to come to Timothy, but he writes so Timothy will know “how one ought to behave in the household of God,” which is the church (1 Timothy 3:14–15). In other words, this is not a detached manual—it’s an urgent, fatherly charge to protect the gospel and shepherd God’s people well (1 Timothy 1:18, 6:20–21).
A key thread through the whole letter is that right doctrine produces real-life change. Paul is not mainly interested in winning arguments; he is concerned that the true gospel leads to love from a pure heart, a good conscience, and sincere faith (1 Timothy 1:5). That’s why he keeps returning to the contrast: false teaching fuels empty speculation and moral collapse, but sound teaching produces visible godliness (1 Timothy 1:3–7, 4:6–16, 6:3–14). Paul anchors this in the message of salvation itself—God’s mercy to sinners in Christ (1 Timothy 1:12–16), the one Mediator who gave Himself as a ransom (1 Timothy 2:5–6), and God’s desire for the gospel to go to all peoples (1 Timothy 2:1–7, 4:10). Because the gospel is true, the church must be shaped by it in worship, leadership, relationships, and everyday conduct.
So Paul gives Timothy practical instructions that flow from the gospel: guard the church’s public worship with prayer, unity, and holiness (1 Timothy 2:1–15); appoint qualified overseers and deacons whose lives display maturity and self-control (1 Timothy 3:1–13); train for godliness and model faithful ministry (1 Timothy 4:6–16); honor and care for people wisely—older and younger, widows, elders, and even slaves—so that love and integrity mark the congregation (1 Timothy 5:1–6:2). He also warns against greed and calls believers to contentment, generosity, and a firm grip on “the faith” (1 Timothy 6:6–19). In the end, 1 Timothy is a clear call to protect the purity of the gospel and to show its power in the day-to-day life of the church—so that God’s household reflects God’s character and Christ’s saving work (1 Timothy 3:15–16).
January 20 — 1 Timothy 1
January 21 — 1 Timothy 2
January 22 — 1 Timothy 3
January 23 — 1 Timothy 4
January 24 — 1 Timothy 5
January 25 — 1 Timothy 6
Titus
Titus is a short pastoral letter from the apostle Paul to his trusted coworker Titus (Titus 1:1, 4). Like 1 Timothy, it’s written to a ministry partner who is helping establish and stabilize young churches, and it strongly links sound faith with godly living—belief and behavior belong together (Titus 1:1, 2:11–14). Though some modern scholars question Paul’s authorship, the letter clearly identifies Paul as its author (Titus 1:1), fits well with Paul’s theology, and was received early in the church as a Pauline, authoritative writing.
The letter is typically dated to the early-to-mid 60s (around A.D. 62–64), during the period after Paul’s first Roman imprisonment and before a later imprisonment that ended in his death (cf. Acts 28:30–31). Paul had recently ministered on the island of Crete and left Titus there to “put what remained into order” by appointing elders in the churches (Titus 1:5). Paul plans to meet Titus in Nicopolis (Titus 3:12), but in the meantime he writes with urgency and clarity, giving Titus marching orders for healthy church life.
A key reason for the letter is the presence of false teachers—especially those with a strong Jewish flavor (“the circumcision party”), who traffic in “myths” and distorted teaching while producing ungodly lives (Titus 1:10–16). Paul’s concern is not just their ideas but their fruit: they “profess to know God, but…deny him by their works” (Titus 1:16). In a culture known for disorder and immorality (Titus 1:12), that kind of “religion” would blend right in. Paul expects the gospel to do the opposite: to create a people whose lives make the message believable and beautiful (Titus 2:5, 8, 10).
So Titus gives a portrait of a healthy church. It starts with godly leadership—elders who are above reproach, able to teach what is true, and able to correct what is false (Titus 1:5–9). It includes firm handling of error and divisiveness (Titus 1:10–16, 3:9–11). And it presses the gospel into everyday life for everyone in the church—older and younger, men and women, and even servants—so that the church’s conduct “adorns” the doctrine of God our Savior (Titus 2:1–10).
At the heart of the letter are two gospel-rich summaries that show why Christian ethics matter. God’s grace has appeared in Jesus to save and to train His people to renounce ungodliness and live self-controlled, upright lives while waiting for Christ’s return—“our great God and Savior Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:11–14). And salvation is not earned by works, but comes by God’s mercy through the washing and renewal of the Holy Spirit—so believers devote themselves to good works as the fitting fruit of grace (Titus 3:4–8, 14). In short, Titus shows that the gospel doesn’t only rescue sinners—it reshapes communities, builds healthy churches, and sends believers into the world with a credible, compelling witness.
January 26 — Titus 1
January 27 — Titus 2
January 28 — Titus 3
2 Timothy
Second Timothy is Paul’s final and most personal pastoral letter to Timothy (2 Timothy 1:1–2). Like 1 Timothy, it addresses ministry in and around Ephesus and the need to guard the gospel against error, but the tone is different: this is a “farewell” letter written with death in view. Paul is imprisoned in Rome again—this time not in relatively open house arrest (Acts 28:16, 30–31), but “chained like a criminal” and expecting execution (2 Timothy 2:9, 4:6–8). Most date it during Nero’s reign, likely in the mid-to-late 60s (about A.D. 64–67).
The heart of the letter is a bold call to persevere in the gospel despite suffering. Paul urges Timothy not to shrink back in fear, not to be ashamed of Christ or of Paul’s chains, and to be willing to suffer for the gospel by God’s power (2 Timothy 1:7–8, 12). Timothy is to guard “the good deposit” of sound teaching “by the Holy Spirit” (2 Timothy 1:13–14), pass that gospel truth on to faithful men who will teach others (2 Timothy 2:2), and do the steady work of ministry even in a hard season (2 Timothy 2:3–7, 4:5).
Because Paul knows time is short, he speaks with clarity about what will threaten Timothy and the church: people who quarrel about words, drift into irreverent babble, and distort the truth (2 Timothy 2:14–18), and a worsening climate of godlessness and opposition in the “last days” (2 Timothy 3:1–9). The primary safeguard is not novelty but Scripture. Timothy is to continue in what he has learned, because the Scriptures are able to make one wise for salvation through faith in Christ, and because “all Scripture is breathed out by God” and equips the servant of God for every good work (2 Timothy 3:14–17).
The letter culminates in Paul’s solemn charge: “preach the word…in season and out of season” with patience and careful teaching (2 Timothy 4:1–5), because a time is coming when many will not endure sound doctrine (2 Timothy 4:3–4). Then, in one of the most moving moments in the New Testament, Paul reflects on his own finished race and sure hope: he is being “poured out,” but he looks ahead to “the crown of righteousness” that the Lord will give to all who love Christ’s appearing (2 Timothy 4:6–8). Even as friends have scattered and only Luke remains (2 Timothy 4:10–11), Paul’s confidence is steady: the Lord will bring him safely into His heavenly kingdom (2 Timothy 4:18). Second Timothy is, in the end, a last word from a spiritual father: hold fast to Christ, treasure the Scriptures, proclaim the gospel, and endure—because Jesus is worth it, and His coming is sure.
January 29 — 2 Timothy 1
January 30 — 2 Timothy 2
January 31 — 2 Timothy 3
February 1 — 2 Timothy 4
Continue reading in our NT260 plan with Phase 3 — Persevering in the Last Day.
16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.[2]
9 In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. 10 In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.[3]
Merry Christmas Adam, Sojourners!
Why Christmas Adam, you ask? Well, Adam came before Eve, right? Ba-dum-cha!
I’m somewhat sorry to start with a dad joke, but I am who I am. And even a light moment like this can remind us that Christmas meets us in ordinary, human places before leading us to eternal truths. So, with that smile (hopefully) in place, let’s turn our hearts to deeper things.
As we move toward the culmination of Advent and stand on the threshold of Christmas, we pause once more to reflect on the gifts God has given us in the coming of His Son. Over the past few weeks, we’ve traced the steady unfolding of the gospel through hope, peace, and joy. We’ve seen that our hope rests not in circumstances but in the faithful God who keeps His promises. We’ve seen that true peace was secured when Jesus entered our darkness to reconcile us to God. And we’ve seen that real joy is not manufactured by emotion or ease but springs up where God’s mercy is received and trusted. And if this season finds you carrying grief, sorrow, disappointment, or weariness, there is room for that here. The coming of Jesus doesn’t require us to pretend, perform, or put on a happy face. It invites us to come to Him honestly – needy, heavy-laden, and real – and to find that He meets us with mercy (Matthew 11:28-30, Psalm 34:18, Hebrews 4:15-16).
Now, all of those gifts converge in the love of God.
Christmas is the declaration that God’s love is neither distant nor abstract. It took on flesh (John 1:14). The incarnation is not merely the arrival of a baby in Bethlehem; it is the greatest gift ever given – the Son of God sent for sinners like us. Hope, peace, and joy all find their source and fulfillment in Him because they flow from God’s love revealed in Jesus. Without God’s love, there would be no promise kept, no peace secured, and no joy that lasts. Christmas tells us that love has come near (Hebrews 2:14-18).
In this final study in our Christ Has Come series, we’ll consider how Scripture defines that love – not as sentiment, but as saving action. We’ll briefly walk through three key passages that together give us a clear and faithful picture of the love of God revealed in Christmas: Romans 5:8, where God demonstrates His love for sinners; John 3:16-17, where God gives His Son so the world might be saved; and 1 John 4:9-10, where love is defined – not by our response to God but by God’s initiative toward us. As we do, it’s my prayer that we’ll see that Christmas proclaims this staggeringly simple and gloriously true gospel message: God loves, God gives, and God saves.
God Demonstrates His Love (Romans 5:8) …but God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
This verse doesn’t merely tell us that God loves – it shows us how He loves. His love is not theoretical. It’s not conditional. It’s demonstrated, proven, and displayed throughout history through the death of Jesus (1 John 3:16).
What makes this love so staggering is when it was shown. Paul explains that Jesus didn’t die for good, righteous people or folks who had earned God’s favor. He died for sinners – ungodly people living in rebellion and enmity against God (Romans 5:6-10). Human love, at its best, may sacrifice for someone we feel is worthy, but God’s love belongs to an entirely different category. While we were still estranged, still guilty, still God’s enemies, still unable to fix or save ourselves, God acted. He moved first in love (1 John 4:19).
And it’s important to see that this wasn’t only the love of the Son for us but also the love of the Father. You see, the cross wasn’t a tragic accident or a reluctant sacrifice – it was God’s loving plan of redemption. God demonstrated His love by sending His Son to die in our place (Romans 8:32). The justice and righteousness of God required that sin be dealt with, and Romans 5:9 reminds us why the cross was necessary: “Since, therefore, we have now been justified by His blood, much more shall we be saved by Him from the wrath of God.” God’s love doesn’t ignore sin or minimize judgment. Rather, love moved God to place His righteous wrath against sin upon His own Son, so that sinners like us could be forgiven, justified, and reconciled to Him.
Romans 5:8 teaches us that God’s love isn’t measured by how we feel in a given moment or how well life is going. It’s anchored in an unchanging historical reality: Jesus died for us. Christmas, then, isn’t sentimental but sacrificial. It points us to the cross, where God’s love is demonstrated fully, finally, and forever.
God Gives His Son (John 3:16-17) For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him.
If Romans 5:8 shows us how God demonstrates His love, John 3:16-17 helps us understand why – and to what end. The cross doesn’t stand alone as an isolated act of love but flows out of the eternal, gracious heart of the Father. Long before nails pierced flesh, love was already moving. God loved, and so God gave.
“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son….” These are probably the most familiar words in all of Scripture, but they lose none of their weight or strength with repetition. They magnify this God-sized love, a love not measured by the size or goodness of the world but in the costliness of the gift He gives. Scripture is clear: God’s love for the world is astonishing not because the world was worthy, but because it was fallen, rebellious, and broken. The wonder of John 3:16 isn’t that God loved something lovable—which would make sense—but that He loved sinners and gave His Son so that they might be saved through Him. That is grace. That is mercy.
And this love isn’t vague. It’s not sentimental. God’s love takes action. He gave His Son – He sent Him into the world to take on flesh, dwell among us, and ultimately to bear the penalty for our sin. The incarnation – Christmas – is an act of love. Christmas tells us that love came near to us, and as we said before, Christmas leads us to the cross, God giving Himself so that sinners might live.
John 3:17 presses this even further because Jesus didn’t enter a morally neutral world awaiting judgment; He entered a world already condemned by sin (John 3:18, 3:36). His first coming wasn’t to add condemnation but to offer rescue (John 12:47). Love sent the Son on a mission of salvation – not ignoring sin but dealing with it fully and finally.
This helps us see the way Christmas and the cross are woven together in God’s redemptive plan. God’s love doesn’t deny judgment but provides salvation from it. The same love that sent Jesus into the world is the love that led Him to lay down His life. And the promise attached to that love is breathtakingly simple: “whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” God’s love invites trust. It calls for faith. And it offers life – real, eternal life – to all who believe in Him.
If Romans 5:8 shows us that God loved us while we were still sinners, John 3:16-17 shows us that this love has always been purposeful, redemptive, and saving. Love gives. Love sends. Love saves.
God Defines Love (1 John 4:9-10) In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent His only Son into the world, so that we might live through Him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins.
If Romans 5:8 shows us when God loved us and John 3:16-17 shows us why He loved us, 1 John 4:9-10 tells us what love truly is. Scripture doesn’t leave love to our imagination or interpretation. It defines it for us. And it does so by pointing, once again, to God’s action in sending His Son.
John tells us that God’s love was “made manifest” – made visible, made known, made unmistakable. Love didn’t remain hidden in God’s heart or vague in His intentions. It was revealed when God sent His only Son into the world so that we, who were dead in our trespasses and sins, might live through Him (Ephesians 2:1-5). Love isn’t about how we feel toward God but about what God has done for us. “In this is love,” John writes, “Not that we have loved but that God has loved us.” Love begins with God. Love moves toward sinners. Love takes the initiative.
This is where Christmas love often gets misunderstood. We tend to think of love primarily in human terms like affection, warmth, or generosity, but Scripture presses us deeper. God’s love is not only demonstrated in sending His Son – it’s defined by His purpose for sending Him: “to be the propitiation for our sins”[4]. That word matters. Propitiation means that Jesus bore the righteous wrath of God against sin, as we discussed earlier, but it also means that He fully satisfied the demands of God’s holy justice (Romans 3:25-26, Isaiah 53:5-6, 2 Corinthians 5:21). Love didn’t ignore our sin. It didn’t excuse our rebellion against God. Love dealt with sin fully and finally by placing its penalty on a sinless substitute.
This is also why no human comparison or analogy could fully capture what God has done – though it can help us feel the weight of it. As a father – as a daddy, I cannot imagine loving anyone enough to give one of my children in their place. My love for my kids outweighs any value anyone else could ever have in my eyes. And even if I could somehow bring myself to offer such a sacrifice, it wouldn’t do any good. My kiddos, like their daddy, are sinners. They couldn’t atone for anyone’s sin. They couldn’t bear God’s righteous wrath. They, like me, can’t even save themselves. We didn’t need a better example or a more inspiring human being—we needed God’s Son. We needed God to put on flesh and dwell among us, live the sinless life we are incapable of living, and die the death we deserve because of our sin. Only a sinless Savior could stand in the place of sinners (Hebrews 4:15, 1 Peter 3:18). Only Jesus could be the propitiation our sins require.
This is the love Christmas proclaims. God didn’t send His Son because we were lovable. He sent Him because we were lost. He didn’t wait for our love but acted in love first. And He didn’t merely show us affection – He provided atonement. Christmas tells us that love came down, took on flesh, and willingly walked toward the cross so that we might live through Him.
Wrapping Up
As this study comes to a close – and Christmas itself arrives – we’re reminded that the love we’ve been considering isn’t something to admire. It’s something to receive. Christmas isn’t only a message to be believed but a Savior to be trusted. And coming to Jesus doesn’t require you to feel “merry”, to force a smile, or to pretend the season isn’t heavy. There is room in Christ for grief, sorrow, anxiety, and whatever burdens you’re carrying (Psalm 34:18, 1 Peter 5:7). He meets us where we are – and He loves us too much to leave us as we are (Hebrews 4:15-16).
For some, this invitation is especially clear. If you find yourself among the lowly – aware of your need, burdened by guilt, weary from sin, or conscious that you can’t save yourself – Christmas holds out real hope. The love of God has come near to sinners in Jesus, near enough to take hold of. And Scripture tells us plainly how to do that: “if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10:9). It really is that simple – and that profound. Look away from yourself and toward Jesus and what He has done. Put your trust – your faith – in Him. And if you do, God’s promise stands firm: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Romans 10:13). What better time to receive Him—and the love that’s been given?
For others, this season is a call not to come for the first time but to remember again. Many of us have been lifted by grace – saved, forgiven, reconciled to God through Christ. And yet even the redeemed can grow weary, distracted, or dulled by the noise of the season. Christmas gently calls us back to the gospel we first believed. It invites us to remember what the Lord has done and to ask Him to remind us again – day by day – of His steadfast love. The love of God in Christ that saved you is the same love that sustains you, comforts you, and carries you forward.
This is the good news Christmas proclaims. Love has come. Love has taken on flesh. Love has walked toward the cross. And love calls sinners to come, believers to remember, and all to rest in Christ – because He is love. So wherever you find yourself this Christmas, lowly or lifted, weary or rejoicing – fix your eyes once more on Jesus. The Promised King has come. And in Him, the greatest gift of love has been given.
[4]Propitiation means that Jesus bore the righteous wrath of God against sin and fully satisfied the demands of God’s holy justice (Romans 3:25–26; Isaiah 53:5–6). At the cross, God did not ignore sin or lower His standard; He dealt with sin completely by placing its penalty on His own Son. Because Jesus satisfied God’s justice, all who trust in Him are justified—declared righteous before God, not because of their works, but because Christ’s righteousness is credited to them (Romans 5:1, 5:9; 2 Corinthians 5:21). This means that God’s love and God’s justice are not in conflict at the cross. In love, God provided what His justice required. Propitiation shows us that salvation is not God choosing between love and holiness, but God expressing both perfectly in Jesus.
This phase will have us reading about Jesus’s life in the gospel of Luke, the formation of the Church in Acts, and walk through the theology found in Paul’s letters that the Church needs to know about and live out the eternal life given by grace through faith in Jesus.
Below, you’ll find brief synopses of each book in this phase to help you understand the scope of the book and most importantly, how it fits into the full Story of the Bible.
When you click on each day’s link, you will find a link to audio, a summary of the chapter, a key verse from the chapter, and opportunities for reflection and outreach.
We’re moving into Paul’s epistles, which we’ll go through chronologically rather than in the order they appear in our Bibles.
2 Corinthians
Paul writes 2 Corinthians after a painful season with the church in Corinth. Some had challenged his integrity and authority, and the church was divided. When Titus brought news that many had repented, Paul responded with this deeply personal letter (2 Corinthians 7:5–16). He defends his ministry not by boasting in strength but by pointing to his suffering and God’s comfort: “the Father of mercies and God of all comfort” meets us in affliction so we can comfort others (2 Corinthians 1:3–7). Paul explains that his trials don’t disprove his calling—they display Christ’s life in a fragile jar of clay (2 Corinthians 4:7–12, 12:9–10).
The letter moves through pastoral appeals and rich teaching. Paul announces the glory of the new covenant, where the Spirit gives life and transforms believers into Christ’s image (2 Corinthians 3:6, 17–18). He proclaims reconciliation: in Christ, God makes us new and entrusts to us the message of reconciliation—“be reconciled to God” (2 Corinthians 5:17–21). He urges holiness and wholehearted devotion to the Lord (2 Corinthians 6:14–7:1), calls the church to forgive and restore the repentant (2 Corinthians 2:5–8), and encourages generous giving for the saints in need (2 Corinthians 8–9). In the closing chapters, he confronts false apostles and “boasts” in his weaknesses so that Christ’s power might be seen (2 Corinthians 11:23–30, 12:9).
In the story of salvation, 2 Corinthians shows how God’s strength shines through human weakness. The crucified and risen Christ brings a new creation, writes His law on our hearts by the Spirit, and sends us as ambassadors of His grace (2 Corinthians 3:3, 5:17–20). Until we stand before Christ’s judgment seat, we live by faith—not by sight—seeking to please Him, comfort His people, and spread the aroma of His gospel in the world (2 Corinthians 5:7–10, 2:14–17).
Paul wrote Romans around A.D. 57 while he was in Corinth, near the end of his third missionary journey (Romans 16:1–2, 23; Acts 20:2–3). He addressed the letter to believers in Rome—a church he had not yet visited but deeply desired to see (Romans 1:10–13). The Roman church was made up of both Jews and Gentiles, and tensions had developed over how God’s law, faith, and daily Christian living fit together (Romans 14:1–15:7). Paul wrote to explain the gospel clearly, to unite the church around that gospel, and to prepare them to partner with him in future mission work, especially his planned journey to Spain (Romans 15:22–24).
At the heart of Romans is the gospel—the good news that God’s righteousness is revealed through Jesus Christ (Romans 1:16–17). Paul shows that all people, without exception, are sinners in need of salvation—both Jews under the law and Gentiles without it (Romans 1:18–3:20). No one is made right with God by works; instead, sinners are justified by grace through faith in Christ alone (Romans 3:21–26, 4:16). Using Abraham as an example, Paul explains that God’s promise has always been received by faith, not earned by obedience (Romans 4:1–5, 23–25). Jesus’s death and resurrection stand at the very center of God’s saving plan (Romans 5:6–11).
Romans also explains what the gospel accomplishes in the life of the believer. Those who are united to Christ are no longer slaves to sin but are given new life through the Holy Spirit (Romans 6:4–14, 8:1–11). Believers now live with peace with God, assurance of salvation, and a certain hope of future glory—even in suffering (Romans 5:1–5, 8:18–39). Paul addresses the difficult question of Israel’s place in God’s plan, showing that God is faithful to His promises and sovereign in salvation, working all things according to His mercy and wisdom (Romans 9–11).
In the story of salvation, Romans shows how God’s Old Testament promises are fulfilled in Jesus and how the gospel creates one new people—Jew and Gentile together—united by faith (Genesis 12:3, Romans 15:8–13). This gospel does not merely save; it transforms. Because of God’s mercy, believers are called to live holy lives marked by humility, love, service, and hope (Romans 12:1–2, 13:8–10). Romans helps us understand both what the gospel is and how to live it out, all for the glory of God among the nations (Romans 11:33–36, 15:5–6).
1:1 The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham. 2 Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, 3 and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, and Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Ram, 4 and Ram the father of Amminadab, and Amminadab the father of Nahshon, and Nahshon the father of Salmon, 5 and Salmon the father of Boaz by Rahab, and Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse, 6 and Jesse the father of David the king. And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah…. 16 …and Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called Christ. [1]
Matthew 1:1-6, 16
Merry Christmas, Sojourners!
This is one of my favorite times of the year. The weather is crisp and cool (or cold, depending on the Mississippi weather). Lights and decorations abound. There’s more than enough to do – following our kiddos around, gathering for extra worship times, a few opportunities to pause and reflect on a year spent, and finding that people are more willing to listen or even talk about Jesus than in other seasons.
Over the past few years at Christ Community, I’ve begun to think of this more in terms of Advent than just the Christmas season – not out of some sense of religious tradition or necessity but out of a sense of expectation and hope. The word Advent comes from the Latin word adventus, meaning “coming” or “arrival”. It, of course, represents Jesus’s first coming (hence the Christmas aspect) and His arrival as God made flesh and dwelling among us (John 1:1, 14), but it also reminds us that He is coming again and that arrival in the clouds is on the horizon (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17), maybe even in our lifetime. Advent trains our hearts to wait with hope (Romans 8:23-25, Titus 2:11-13).
Now, this isn’t the sort of hope that we’re used to – some sort of vague wish that we want to come about. That sort of hope leads to disappointment and anxiety. For example, I hear my school kiddos say things like, “I hope I do good on this test.” While there’s a certain anxiety that all too often accompanies the tests, the hope can be more sure than wishful thinking. I remind my students in those moments of all they’ve studied and all they’ve learned. My class is the culmination of all of the English classes they have taken since third grade. Getting to my class means they’ve successfully made it from third grade all the way to ninth or tenth grade. Most of my tenth grade students had me for ninth, so I can remind them also of what they’ve learned, studied, and succeeded at in order to get to the end of the class. Their anxiety flowed from feelings of inadequacy and felt thin because it had nothing solid beneath it.
Biblical hope is different. It isn’t rooted in our effort, our performance, or our feelings. It has substance. It is established on something solid – the promises of God (2 Corinthians 1:20).
The hope Jesus offers – the hope we are reminded of through Advent leading up to Christmas – is based in a more substantial substance than our mere life experience and accomplishments; it’s based out of Jesus’s life and His accomplishments on the cross and through the empty tomb. We can “hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering” because “He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23). He has a flawless record of keeping His promises – promises no human could make and see fulfilled much less fulfill them alone (see “Appendix: OT Messianic Prophecies Fulfilled Through JESUS in the Gospels”). And we can find hope in His faithfulness because He is the One who promised to come and did (Galatians 4:4-5), so when He promises to return, we can rest in the hope that He will (Revelation 22:12, 20).
Hopefully you took the time to look at the OT Messianic Prophecies Fulfilled Through JESUS in the Gospels appendix, taking a look at the fifty-five examples offered there. Today, though, we’re going to find hope not only in prophecy but in how God worked in the real, messy lives of real, sinful people. We will see that He who promised to redeem and save those who call on Him – confess Him as Lord and believe He raised from the dead (Romans 10:9, 13) – is faithful to do that. Their stories show that the God who speaks His promises is the God who brings those promises to fruition through ordinary sinners like us (1 Corinthians 1:26-31).
So, where do we find these people? We find them – these four women – in Jesus’s genealogy in Matthew 1.
Before we look at any of their stories, it’s worth noting something remarkable: women weren’t usually included in genealogies in the ancient world. Genealogies traced the line through the fathers, generation to generation, name to name. Yet Matthew, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, intentionally highlights four women – and not women we might expect. Their stories are messy. Their pasts are complicated. Their situations were soaked in sin, sorrow, scandal, and suffering. And still the Holy Spirit saw fit to weave their names into the family line of Jesus. Why? Because the gospel isn’t a story for the polished but for the broken (Mark 2:17). Their presence in Jesus’s genealogy serves as the Spirit’s way of holding up the gift of hope – hope that God’s grace reaches further than our failures, hope that His mercy is deeper than our mess, and hope that the promised King truly came to save sinners (1 Timothy 1:15).
These women point us forward to the One who would come from their line – Jesus the Christ, Emmanuel, “God with us” (Matthew 1:23) – the Savior who brings hope to people just like them…and just like us.
Tamar – Hope in God’s Faithfulness Despite Human Sin (v. 3, Genesis 38)
The first woman is Tamar (v. 3), and her story is found in Genesis 38.
Tamar was Judah’s – as in lion of the tribe of Judah (Genesis 49:8-10), the original – daughter-in-law. She was originally married to Judah’s oldest son Er until “the Lord put him to death” because Er was “wicked in the sight of the Lord” (Genesis 38:7). In those days[2], when the elder son died, it was the role of his younger brother to take his place and father children in his name. This fell to second-born, Onan, but Onan was more sinful and selfish than his big brother, doing what was “wicked in the sight of the Lord” and being “put…to death, also” (Genesis 38:10).
Poor Tamar. Her only hope at bearing children would fall on Judah’s youngest, and last remaining son, Shelah. But Judah lied and had no intention of taking care of or continuing with Tamar. What did she do? She decided to be wicked herself. She tricked Judah and tempted him. How did he respond? He decided to be wicked himself. Judah and Tamar committed sin together, her posing as a prostitute and him partaking in sin with her – honestly sinning against her similarly to his late-son Onan.
Scripture doesn’t hide this, and because of that, we begin to see hope shining through the darkness.
Paul reminds us that “where sin increased, grace abounded all the more” (Romans 5:20), and Tamar’s story is living proof of that. Despite Judah’s sin, despite Tamar’s sin, despite a situation that looked like a generational dead end, God preserved the family line through which the Messiah would come (Genesis 38:27-30). And when faced with evidence of his sin, Judah himself would later confess that Tamar was “more righteous” than him (Genesis 38:26), not because she was righteous in herself, but because God used a broken situation to move His promise and purpose forward.
Tamar’s presence in Jesus’s genealogy shows us that the promised King comes through broken, sinful people to give hope to broken, sinful people.
Rahab – Hope for Outsiders, Sinners, and the Unlikely (v. 5; Joshua 2, 6:17, 22-25)
Rahab wasn’t an Israelite, so she wasn’t one of God’s chosen people ethnically, and before the Hebrew spies came to her house in Jericho, she was known for her sinful profession as a prostitute, except unlike Tamar, she was not merely posing as one. Yet she exhibited faith in the God of Israel because she had heard of the mighty work He had done with and for His people (Joshua 2:9-11). She chose to side with God’s people rather than her own and hid the Hebrews spies to keep them safe.
And this is what Scripture emphasizes – not the sinfulness of her past but the sincerity of her faith. We see in the book of Hebrews that “by faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish” (Hebrews 11:31), and James says her works proved her faith (James 2:25). Despite her people[3], her background, and her own history, God rescued her by letting her put a scarlet cord in her window to mark her safe when Jericho fell under His judgment (Joshua 2:18-21).
Why a scarlet cord? Some scholarly preacher folks see in it the foreshadowing of the blood of Jesus – God marking the saved safe through a covering only He can provide. For Rahab, it just represented the promise of the mighty God she had begun serving.
What about the fact that she was a prostitute? Why would someone like her be included in Jesus’s official lineage – in the Bible no less? Because Jesus came to save sinners, outsiders, and the unlikeliest of folks – people like Rahab, people like me and you (Luke 5:31-32). Her inclusion in Jesus’s family tree declares that the hope of the promised King is for all nations and all sinners who take refuge in Him (Psalm 2:12).
Ruth – Hope for the Hopeless and the Gentile (v. 5; the book of Ruth)
The third woman is actually related to Rahab by marriage as she ended up marrying Rahab’s son Boaz. Her name is Ruth (v. 5), and her story is told in the book of the Bible bearing her name.
Like her mother-in-law, Ruth wasn’t one of God’s chosen people. She was from the land of Moab (a people group started out of a sinful union and messy situation way back in Genesis 19:30-37). Her husband Mahlon came to Moab with his family while trying to escape the Lord’s judgment through a famine, seeking help and relief from their own strength and ingenuity rather than from the Lord (Ruth 1:1-2).
While they were in Moab, her father-in-law, husband, and brother-in-law all died. She could have gone back to her father’s house and been right and righteous in doing so, but she decided to accompany her mother-in-law Naomi back to Israel (Ruth 1:16-17). God blessed that decision and relationship and took care of Ruth and Naomi. Part of the way God took care of them was through Rahab’s son Boaz, first providing food and grain for them and ultimately through him taking on the role of kinsman-redeemer[4], marrying Ruth.
This is the beauty of Ruth’s story because providing a redeemer for them was more than just a husband; being called a kinsman-redeemer (Ruth 2:20, 3:9, 4:14-15) is a picture pointing forward to Jesus Himself. Ruth, the foreigner and outsider, the one with no earthly hope, found refuge “under the wings of the Lord” (Ruth 2:12). Her story that began with such sorrow and grief had a happy ending, especially considering Ruth would be King David’s great-grandmother (Ruth 4:17), but doesn’t Jesus deserve a more presentable bloodline?
No, God delighted in bringing hope out of hopelessness and writing His redemption story through those the world would overlook so that those who are overlooked could find hope in Him (1 Corinthians 1:27-29). Ruth’s inclusion in Jesus’s lineage shows that the Messiah is the Redeemer of all who take refuge in Him.
“The Wife of Uriah” – Hope through God’s Mercy to the Deeply Fallen (v. 6, 2 Samuel 11-12)
The fourth woman isn’t even listed in the genealogy by her name, but how she is listed tells the sadness and sin surrounding her: “And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah” (v. 6). This is not a slight to her but recognition of King David’s sin with her. Yes, David, the king who is most often heralded as a hero and worshiper of the Lord is also a sinner.
The man who slew Goliath and wrote a big chunk of the Bible’s songbook committed particularly heinous sins: murder and adultery (2 Samuel 11:1-5). David stayed behind when he was supposed to be with his troops and gazed upon the “wife of Uriah” from his roof as she took a bath. He, even though he was married to multiple women already and she was married to one of his mighty men, decided that he wanted to make her his. The resulting union led to a child between them. Rather than owning up and confessing his sin – to the Lord, to his wives, to Uriah, to Israel, David undertook a massive cover-up that ended in his arranging Uriah’s murder (2 Samuel 11:14-17). He stole this man’s wife. He took his life.
It looks good to have a giant-killing worshiper of the Lord in your lineage, but why associate Jesus instead with David’s sin and wickedness (and the same or worse from many of the kings listed after him in the family tree)? Because this gets to the very heart of the gospel.
Bathsheba’s story contains much sin and sorrow, but it doesn’t end that way. God confronted David through the prophet Nathan (2 Samuel 12:1-3). Their baby died (2 Samuel 12:15-18). David repented (Psalm 51). And God, in astonishing mercy, allowed David and Bathsheba to become the parents of another child, Solomon – the next link in the chain leading to Christ (2 Samuel 12:24-25).
Where sin is great, God’s grace is greater still (Romans 5:20). Bathsheba – the wife of Uriah – being included in this genealogy reminds us that the promised King didn’t come to hide human sin but to seek and save sinners (Luke 19:10).
Wrapping Up
Each section walking us through these women’s stories included rhetorical questions meant to make us meditate on what God was doing in and through them: why include these women and take honest looks at their stories?
In short, there really are answers to those questions. Why would the Bible recognize and record those sins and sinners in Jesus’s lineage? Why would the Holy Spirit shine a spotlight on the stories of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba? Because they all really happened. Sin happens. Every one of them was a real person with a real story marked by real brokenness. And the truth is that all people “have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). None of us – not a single person in the history of the world other than Jesus – deserve to be anywhere near His lineage. But faith in God – trusting in His work, His steadfast love, His kindness, His promises, and in Him – is woven through that lineage like a scarlet cord of grace, like that cord hanging from Rahab’s window, marking those who He saves as safe (Ephesians 2:8-9).
When we look at the mixture of their sin and God’s faithfulness, their failures and His mercy, their weakness and His strength, we are reminded that noneof us are worthy of salvation. But that is exactly why He came. Jesus Himself said that He came to “seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). That coming to seek and save is remembered in Christmas – the incarnation – God coming, taking on flesh and dwelling among us (John 1:14). Hope came as God Himself entered the world with a real genealogy filled with real sinners so He could redeem real sinners like us (Philippians 2:5-8).
The stories of these four women aren’t in Matthew 1 to embarrass them or Jesus. They’re there to announce Him! They testify that the promised King comes through stories soaked in sin, sorrow, scandal, and suffering so that He can bring hope where hope seems impossible. Their lives preach to us that no one is too far gone, no past is too messy, no family tree too twisted, no heart too broken or sin too deep for the Redeemer who came from their line (Hebrews 7:25).
So, as you gather with family and friends this Christmas – and maybe as you glance around at some rough-looking fruit on your own family tree – or whether the roughest branch you see is staring back to you in the mirror of God’s Word, remember this: Jesus is more than the reason for the season. He is the gift of hope for sinners. He came through a broken lineage to step into our brokenness. He came to seek and save people like Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, and David – people like you and people like me (Romans 5:8).
If you haven’t before, won’t you ask Him to save you?
Call on Him. Trust Him. Let the promised King fill your heart with the gift of hope – real hope, lasting hope, the hope that only Jesus can give (1 Peter 1:3-5). If Jesus has saved you, take heart in this beautiful truth: the same King who came to seek and save you is the One who holds you fast. Your hope still isn’t in your performance but in Him and in His promises. And “He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23). He has redeemed you (Ephesians 1:7), He is with you (Matthew 28:20), and He will come again for you (John 14:3). So fix your eyes on Him this Christmas. Rest in what He’s done. Rejoice in what He’s doing. And let the hope of our Promised King steady your heart now and in every season to come.
[2] This was known as a levirate marriage. TheLexham Cultural Ontology Glossary defines levirate marriage as:
“A law and custom in ancient Israel that if a man died without sons his brother would take the widow for a wife in order to provide male offspring for his dead brother. The children then would be heirs of their dead father’s land and possessions and the family line would not be broken.”
[3] For clarification, saying “her people” here is not referencing her ethnicity but the fact that God commanded Jericho marked for destruction as punishment for sin.
[4] The IVP Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament defines kinsman redeemer thusly:
“The kinsman-redeemer’s role was to help recover the tribes losses, whether those loses were human (in which case he hunted down the killer), judicial (in which case he assisted in lawsuits) or economic (in which case he recovered the property of a family member). Since Yahweh had granted the land to the Israelites as tenants, they could not sell it…. In this way the land remained with extended family as a sign of its membership in the covenantal community.”
This describes the way Boaz married Ruth so that Naomi would have access and provision from the land of her husband and family. There was a more closely related person who could have done this, but Boaz chose to take up the mantle of Ruth’s husband in order to give them the care they needed.
Sunday’s coming, and I’m excited — really, it’s the season that has me excited this week, thinking back on Jesus’s first coming and longing for His return.
Some call this the holiday season, referencing the ever growing plethora of holidays ranging from late November to early January. Others call it the Christmas season, stemming from their clear desire to make sure folks know that Jesus is the reason for the season. The older I get, the more I think of the season leading up to the celebration of Jesus’s birth at Christmas as Advent.
The Church has called this season Advent for centuries (stemming from the Latin word adventus, meaning “coming” or “arriving”), meditating on the coming and arrival of Jesus. And that’s the heartbeat of these weeks leading up to Christmas: Jesus has come, and He will come again.
Advent has a way of slowing us down just enough to remember what matters most. It invites us to look back with gratitude and forward with expectation — back to God becoming flesh and dwelling among us, back to when God kept His promise and sent His Son, and forward to the day when the very same Jesus will come again in glory.
In recent years, we’ve marked these weeks with the lighting of candles to help us focus on Jesus’s past and future advents. The first one — the candle of hope — reminds us that the hope with have in Jesus isn’t some vague wish but an expectation anchored in God’s faithfulness and eternal nature.
All of our readings this year will be based out of the book of Hebrews that we’ve been studying together this year. Hebrews tells us that God confirmed His promise with an oath “so that we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us” (Hebrews 6:18). The hope He gives is “a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul” (Hebrews 6:19) because it doesn’t rest on us at all but entirely on God’s strength and faithfulness.
As we ponder on the hope we have in Jesus in this Advent season, we are reminded that God keeps His promises. Every prophecy, every shadow, every longing of the Old Testament finds “yes and amen” in the first coming of Jesus (2 Corinthians 1:20). And because God proved Himself faithful in that first coming, we can trust Him with every promise whose fulfillment still lays ahead.
Earlier, I remarked about the differences in the way some people refer to the season; a lot of that is driven by sentimentality. The hope we celebrate in Advent isn’t sentimental. It’s not rooted in changing seasons or circumstances but in the unchanging character of our promise-keeping God. Because He sent His Son just as He promised for millennia, we can “hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23).
This is the good, gospel news Advent holds out to weary people: Emmanuel (God with us) has come. And Emmanuel will come again. The One who fulfilled every word of prophecy in HIs first coming will do the same at His return. That’s why our hearts can sing with confidence the longing woven into “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”:
“Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel…shall come again with us to dwell!”
What began in Bethlehem will end in glory. The God who came near has promised to come again and make all things new. And in these early weeks of Advent at Christ Community, as we worship, pray, and sing together, we do so with the steady, joyful hope that the King who came once will surely come again — because He who promised is faithful.
Since this is true — and it is — we need to understand that Advent isn’t just a season to observe but a season pointing to the Savior we can come to ourselves. The same Jesus who came once in humility and will come again in glory invites you now to draw near to Him in faith.
If you are weary, come to Him.
If you feel the weight of sin or sorrow, come to Him.
If you’re longing for something more solid than the shifting foundations of this world, come to Him.
The anchor of hope that Hebrews tells about is not an idea but a Person, and His name is Jesus. He’s strong enough, faithful enough, and near enough to hold you fast. I want to invite you to seek Him this Advent season. Bring your questions, your needs, your joys, your burdens. He’s a truer hope than anything this world can offer, and He delights to meet His people when they come to Him.
And I also want to invite you to gather with us this Sunday at Christ Community. There’s something uniquely beautiful about joining our voices together, singing the hope of the gospel, praying with expectation, and sitting under John’s faithful preaching when He opens the Scriptures and points us to Jesus — our living hope, our faithful High Priest, our soon-coming King.
So, come.
Come behold the One who came for us, who is with us, and who will come again for His people.
Here are our Scriptures, songs, and Advent readings:
Advent Reading | Hope —
Lighting the first candle of Advent reminds us that our hope is not a vague wish or a fragile feeling—it is anchored in the unchanging promises of God. Hebrews tells us that God “guaranteed” His promise with an oath so that we might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us (Hebrews 6:17–18). This hope is “a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul,” firm because it rests on who God is and what He has already done for us in Jesus Christ.
Advent reminds us that God kept His promises in sending His Son. Everything He foretold in Scripture—every shadow, every prophecy, every longing—was fulfilled in Christ. Because God proved Himself faithful in Christ’s first coming, we can trust Him with every promise still ahead. As we enter this season, let us cling to the confession of our hope without wavering, for “He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23).
17So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the unchangeable character of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, 18so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. 19We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, 20where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.
12 So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. 13 Return, O Lord! How long? Have pity on your servants! 14 Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. 15 Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil. 16 Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children. 17 Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands![1]
Psalm 90
Greetings Sojourners!
It’s been a while since we’ve had one of these, but as I am learning, I’m glad to get to do what I get to do when I get to do it. 2025 has been a year of learning for me. I was not glad to be in this class, so to speak, back in the health struggles of June and the months of recuperation, but now, as of today, I can honestly say that I am thankful.
The reason I think about the experiences of the past six months as a class is attributed to my pastor, John Goldwater. On a particularly low evening in the hospital, I FaceTimed him to ask for prayer and receive counsel. I was supposed to be where he was, on a mission trip with Christ Community’s youth group in New Mexico; at the very least, I was just not supposed to be where I was, laid up in a hospital bed with the weight of a mysterious illness and not being able to walk or really even use my arms and hands. My spirits were low, and my attitude was bordering on poor. John gave the pastoral counsel I needed. He reminded me that while I wasn’t on the mission I had planned to be, I was still on mission – the mission God had given me. That hit hard. Then, he told me with his characteristic wit: even though I didn’t sign up for this class, make sure I learned whatever the Lord would have me learn the first time because I sure didn’t want to have to take it again.
That perspective helped me immensely. Even though whatever was wrong had all of the doctors puzzled and befuddled, God Almighty was not puzzled nor was He out of control. I was no less His in those weeks of pain, struggle, and fear. He was no less sovereign. His plan was not thwarted by medical mystery even if that plan seemed shrouded from my perspective.
Some of the things I learned can be summed up quickly:
When we read in Scripture that the Lord is our help in trouble and the true source of strength for those who are saved – those who are His, this is more than a theological truth; it is a genuine truth meant to be lived out.
Marriage is a picture of the gospel. This picture is not fully illustrated through the good and easy times. I have never been served or cared for like Candice did for me in the hospital and since. Her love shown to me is a picture of how the Church should love Christ.
I am thankful to get to do ministry, but I am not necessary. Don’t get me wrong, I know God called me to be where he wants me to be and that He has given me what I need to be equipped to do what He has called me to do. He is who is necessary. Christ Community kept right on going, the praise team did not miss a beat, my Sunday School small group kept right on studying the Word, and every single thing I was involved in prior to June kept right on going because the work of the Lord is powered by His Spirit and not contingent upon my involvement. I’m glad to be back, but it’s such a relief to be reminded my place in all of this, more importantly the Lord’s primacy.
Finally, and I am still learning this, the Lord is teaching me to number my days – which is the subject of our Bible study from Psalm 90 (specifically verse 12) today.
The Context of Psalm 90 – A Prayer of Moses, the Man of God
The attribution of this psalm makes it stand out – “A Prayer of Moses, the Man of God”. This marks him by his relationship with the Lord and helps this psalm invite us to listen in to this prayer, and understand the context being the experiences of a man who walked closely with the Lord and carrying the weight of leading God’s people. Since most Bible scholars date this psalm late in the wilderness years, this prayer hits different when this “Man of God” is leading the people at a time when the older generation who had left Egypt were dying off as a consequence of their sin. This was a period marked by God’s judgment on sin. That sets a rather somber tone.
Moses begins Psalm 90 by lifting our eyes to the eternal God who has been the “dwelling place” of His people in every generation, then and forevermore. Before the mountains were formed, before Creation, God has been God and nothing will or can change that truth. In fact, the eternal nature of God is the basis of this psalm and a powerful part of the contrast with our temporal nature. God is God always and forever. Man returns to dust, our years passing quickly and the strongest and longest lives being brief in comparison to eternity. Sometimes we talk about this as a natural part of life because that’s part of our human experience, but the context here is tied to sin and the curse given in Eden when God declared that humanity would return to the dust (Genesis 3:19). Moses had lived and led long enough to have experienced this up close and personal.
But Psalm 90 isn’t simply a reflection on humanity and time but is instead a community lament, a prayer offered by Moses on behalf of God’s people as they faced affliction and death, asking God to show compassion, turn from His anger, and renew their joy. Psalm 90 traces a pattern: God’s eternal nature (vv. 1-2), man’s mortality (vv. 3-6), God’s righteous anger toward sin (vv. 7-12), and a plea for God to bless His people with steadfast love, purpose, and lasting fruit (vv. 13-17). And woven into the prayer is the reality of time – days, years, generations – because Moses wants the people to recognize that God’s mercy and guidance gives their lives enduring value.
This context makes v. 12 the hinge on which the whole psalm turns: “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” This isn’t about counting birthdays or marking the passage of time. Moses here is asking God to help us weigh our days – to see how few they are, how quickly they pass, and how desperately we need God to guide us if we want to use the time we are given well. This is how a lament can turn to hope by vv. 13-17 when Moses asks God to “return” to His people with compassion, to satisfy them each morning with His unfailing love, to replace their long years of affliction with joy, and to let their work matter and endure – that the Lord will establish their work in light of His eternal purposes.
This is the world Psalm 90 speaks into – a world where our days are short, our strength is limited, and our lives are fragile but God Himself is eternal, faithful, compassionate, and near. To number our days is not morbid but wise. It’s a call to live intentionally following Christ, seeking His mercy, and resting in Him, the God who has been His people’s dwelling place in every generation.
Learning to Number My Days
As I sat with Psalm 90 in these months of recovery, Moses’s prayer didn’t feel like some poetry from an ancient text but the vocabulary Jesus was teaching me in my own heart. The context of the psalm helped me see something beautiful. Moses was leading a people who were painfully aware that life was short, that sin was serious, and that every day they were given was God’s mercy. That’s heavy! Yet in that heaviness, Moses didn’t get stuck in lament but asked God to teach His people how to live wisely, joyfully, and purposefully in the time they’ve been given.
That’s where this really hit me.
Yes, I felt sorry for myself. Yes, I was scared. Rehab was hard. Learning how to walk again was as scary as it was difficult. Every step I took was pain for months. I thought I nothing would ever return to normal. Hospital bills and insurance conversations brought anxiety. Having everyone in my life treat me like a box that says “Fragile! Handle with care!” was frustrating at times, and knowing that I needed their help was a constant weight of guilt and, if I’m honest, shame at times. But I found that with every new step, every new growth, every little gain brought thankfulness – thankfulness to God for carrying me through and sustaining.
When you’ve experienced the reality that life is fragile and our bodies fail us, you begin to understand that every day is a gift. Numbering my days isn’t about counting how many I’ve accumulated over the decades but asking God to shape all the ones He chooses to give me as He wills and works for His glory and my good!
That brings me to the final part of Moses’s prayer in Psalm 90. After asking the Lord to teach them to number their days, he asks God for His compassion, steadfast love, joy, and favor to fill those days (vv. 13-17). Wisdom isn’t just knowing intellectually that life is short; wisdom is knowing that a short life held by God is a life full of meaning.
So, when I ask the Lord to teach me to number my days, I’m really asking Him to do what He promised in those last verses of Psalm 90 – to satisfy me with His steadfast love every morning, to give joy that outlasts and outshines every affliction, and to establish the work of my hands – the work He has called me to – so that nothing done for His glory is wasted. That kind of wisdom doesn’t lead to despair; it leads to gratitude. I wish I could say that I have this wisdom locked down. I don’t. But my heart is moved to give thanks to my God – not for perfect circumstances but for His faithfulness carrying me through this season of life, and thanking Him for the gift of today.
Wrapping Up
As I look back on this year, I can testify that Jesus is faithful. He’s been teaching me to number my days – not by making me afraid of losing them but by making me grateful for each one He gives. Today, Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful to the God who has been and is my refuge. I’m thankful for Candice who has loved me with Christ-like love. I’m thankful for Keri and Xander reminding me daily that God’s kindness is real. I’m thankful for my family serving me and doing what I couldn’t (and can’t) because they love me with no thought to whether it’s deserved – just giving. I’m thankful for a faith family at Christ Community (and the Foundry Church) who carried on faithfully because the work belongs to the Lord, not me. And I’m thankful for the simple grace of waking up this morning with enough strength provided to live today for the glory of God.
Psalm 90:14 says, “Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.” That’s my prayer – not to have more and more days but to have days filled with the steadfast love of the Lord. And for as many days as He chooses to give, I want to live in gratitude to Him, with purpose, and with the wisdom that comes from knowing all my days are in His hands.
So, today, I’m giving thanks – not merely because it’s Thanksgiving, not for the comfort of recovery – but for the God who walks with me through every valley, sustains me in all my weakness, and teaches me to live the life He’s given. He’s my dwelling place. How about you?
Plus, it’s baptism Sunday at Christ Community tomorrow — a day when we celebrate a visible proclamation of faith and the public confession of our hope: JESUS is LORD! And while we get to watch this, we are reminded that baptism itself doesn’t save us but instead illustrates the saving work of Jesus in the lives of those He saves.
Paul gives us a clear picture of this in Romans 6:4:
We were buried therefore with Him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.
Baptism is a symbol of union with Christ — we go under the water as a picture of His death and burial and rise out of the water as a picture of His resurrection. When a believer participates in baptism, he or she procaims that “Jesus died for me, Jesus rose for me, and by faith in Him, I now walk in newness of life!” It’s a public testimony that Jesus saves and that He has brought us from dead in our sins to alive in Christ (Ephesians 2:1-5).
Watching these new believers being baptized will give us a picture of the gospel. We will also read a presentation of the gospel in our worship time in Titus 3:3-7:
3For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by others and hating one another. 4But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, 5He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to His own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, 6whom He poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, 7so that being justified by His grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.
This passage shows both who we are and what God has done:
Who we are: sinners enslaved, lost, angry, guilty, unable to save ourselves
What God did: “He saved us” — not because of our goodness, effort, or religious zeal and “not because of works done by us in righteousness
How He saves: “according to His own mercy”, giving us new birth and new life through His Holy Spirit
Who we are after salvation: “justified by His grace” — declared righteous — and “heirs according to the hope of eternal life”
And we’ll see this gospel a third way as John opens up Hebrews and points us to Jesus in the preaching of His Word.
So, come tomorrow.
Come rejoice with those being baptized.
Come remember the mercy of God.
Come sing of His grace and see His salvation on display.
And make sure above all you come to Jesus.
Here are our Scriptures and songs:
Scripture | Titus 3:3-7 —
3For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by others and hating one another. 4But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, 5He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to His own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, 6whom He poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, 7so that being justified by His grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.
3Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? 4We were buried therefore with Him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.
It’s been a minute since I’ve gotten to write one of these because I’ve gotten to preach. On that note, I want to pause to say thank you, Christ Community Church.
I’ve had the joy and privilege of preaching this past month — a brief series on the new life in Christ as well as one back in our Hebrews series. It’s not every church that would listen to someone other than their primary pastor for several weeks in a row, let alone a month, and I’m so thankful that Christ Community is that kind of church. Not because I feel I’m worth listening to, but because you prioritize the Word being preached over the personality preaching it. It has blessed my heart to open the Word with you — to study, worship, and grow together in the grace of Jesus. I am thankful to John for the opportunity.
Candice, Keri, Xander, and I are deeply grateful to have found a church home where we are welcomed, loved, and get to be part of what God is doing here.
Now, on to the business at hand: preparing our hearts and minds to gather together in worship this Sunday.
Sunday at Christ Community, we will remember, rejoice, and rest in the mercy of God in Jesus Christ our Savior. As per usual, we will read from the Word and sing from it, and this week we will also partake of the Lord’s Supper together. The two passages we’ll read together in worship (Lamentations 3:19-24 and 1 Peter 1:17-19) will help us prepare for that by showing both the depth of our need and the greatness of Jesus’s mercy and grace.
Lamentations 3:19-20 says, “Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.” In these verses, Jeremiah’s grief runs deep in this passage as he remembers the weight of suffering and sin. Yet, even in the depths of lament, he turns to the Lord. This serves as a powerful example for us. When we gather, we’re not pretending the world isn’t fallen or broken, or that our hearts aren’t weary; we bring all of that to the God who heals, restores, and saves.
Lamentations 3:21-23 says, “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” This is the turning point in Jeremiah’s lament — remembering gives way to hope. God’s mercies are never exhausted by our sin. Even when we fail (and we will), His mercy remains new, steady, and sure. This is reflected in the words we will sing and celebrate with in “His Mercy is More” — that though our sins be many His mercy is always greater. We’ll also rejoice in His mercy and grace as we sing “Amazing Grace (My Chains are Gone)”, rejoicing that mercy doesn’t merely comfort — it redeems!
Lamentations 3:24 says, “‘The LORD is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in Him.'” This verse caps off the section by giving us the foundation of our worship: our hope is not found within ourselves but in Christ — in GOD — alone! He alone is our portion, our satisfaction, our salvation. And that truth leads us to the cross, where mercy and justice meet and grace flows freely.
1 Peter 1:18-19 tell us that we “were ransomed … not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.” The mercy and grace God so lavishly bestows on His people are not cheap but purchased at a cost — the blood of Jesus. He is the spotless Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, our perfect substitute. As we sing to Him of what He’s done for us in “At the Cross (Love Ran Red)” and “O the Blood”, we will be able to look back on the hope Jeremiah spoke of and rejoice that it comes to us fully today and for all time in Jesus!
And that mercy — that grace — that love — leads us to the Table together at the end of our worship gathering.
19Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! 20My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. 21But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: 22The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; 23they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. 24“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him.”
17And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one’s deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, 18knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, 19but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.
This phase will have us reading about Jesus’s life in the gospel of Luke, the formation of the Church in Acts, and walk through the theology found in Paul’s letters that the Church needs to know about and live out the eternal life given by grace through faith in Jesus.
Below, you’ll find brief synopses of each book in this phase to help you understand the scope of the book and most importantly, how it fits into the full Story of the Bible.
When you click on each day’s link, you will find a link to audio, a summary of the chapter, a key verse from the chapter, and opportunities for reflection and outreach.
We’re moving into Paul’s epistles, which we’ll go through chronologically rather than in the order they appear in our Bibles.
Galatians
The letter to the Galatians (check out this cool visual summary from the Bible Project) was written by Paul to churches in the Roman province of Galatia who were facing a spiritual crisis. After Paul preached the gospel of grace, other teachers arrived saying Gentile believers had to be circumcised and keep parts of the Mosaic law to belong to God’s people. Paul writes with urgency to defend the true gospel and his apostolic message, warning that any “different gospel” is no gospel at all (Galatians 1:6–9). His aim is pastoral and clear: believers are made right with God not by works of the law but by faith in Jesus Christ (Galatians 2:15–16).
Galatians shows how Christ’s cross brings a new era of freedom and life. Jesus bore the curse of the law so that blessing might come to the nations and the Spirit be given through faith (Galatians 3:13–14). Paul explains the law’s temporary role—it guarded and pointed to Christ—but now that Christ has come, we are God’s children by faith and clothed with Christ (Galatians 3:24–27). This freedom is not for selfishness but for love: “through love serve one another” (Galatians 5:13–14). The Christian life is life in the Spirit, where the desires of the flesh are put to death and the Spirit produces his good fruit—love, joy, peace, and more (Galatians 5:16–25). At the center stands the cross, which reshapes our identity and boasts (Galatians 2:20, 6:14).
In the story of salvation, Galatians declares that the promise to Abraham is fulfilled in Christ: Jew and Gentile are one family, justified by faith and adopted as sons through the Son (Genesis 12:3; Galatians 3:8, 3:26–29, 4:4–7). The gospel does not add law to Christ; it gives Christ alone by grace, and with him the Spirit who makes us new. Because Jesus has set us free, we stand firm in that freedom, walking by the Spirit and bearing one another’s burdens until the day of glory (Galatians 5:1, 5:16, 6:2).
Paul writes 1 Thessalonians to a young church he planted in a strategic, bustling city and had to leave sooner than he wanted (Acts 17:1–10). After sending Timothy to check on them, Paul hears a mostly good report—but also real concerns: grief over believers who had died, questions about the day of the Lord, ongoing persecution, and a few idle members refusing to work (1 Thessalonians 3:1–6, 4:13, 5:1–11, 4:9–12). With a warm pastoral tone, he defends the integrity of the gospel workers (1 Thessalonians 2), thanks God for their evident faith, love, and hope (1 Thessalonians 1:2–3), and urges them to keep growing in holiness, especially in sexual purity and brotherly love (1 Thessalonians 4:1–8, 9–12).
A major theme is Christ’s return—the “coming” of Jesus appears in every chapter (1 Thessalonians 1:10, 2:19, 3:13, 4:13–18, 5:23). Paul comforts grieving believers: those who have died “in Christ” will rise first, and together with the living they will be caught up to meet the Lord—and “so we will always be with the Lord” (1 Thessalonians 4:14–17). He reassures them that the day of the Lord will not overtake them like a thief because they belong to the day, not the night (1 Thessalonians 5:1–5, 9–10). In light of this hope, he calls the church to a steady, everyday obedience—respecting leaders, helping the weak, rejecting idleness, praying constantly, and testing everything by God’s Word (1 Thessalonians 5:12–22).
In the story of salvation, 1 Thessalonians looks back to Jesus’ death and resurrection as the ground of our hope and forward to His coming as the goal of our hope (1 Thessalonians 4:14, 5:9–10). The God who chose and called them is faithful; He Himself will sanctify them completely and keep them blameless at the coming of the Lord Jesus (1 Thessalonians 1:4, 5:23–24). Until that day, the church waits with active faith, steadfast love, and durable hope—turning from idols to serve the living and true God and to wait for His Son from heaven (1 Thessalonians 1:3, 9–10).
Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians comes soon after the first and meets a church still under pressure. Persecution had not let up, and a false claim had spread that “the day of the Lord” had already come, leaving some shaken and afraid (2 Thessalonians 1:4, 2:1–2). Paul reassures them: when Jesus returns, He will bring justice—rest for His people and judgment on those who oppose the gospel (2 Thessalonians 1:5–10). He prays that God would make them worthy of their calling and glorify the name of Jesus in them, even as they suffer (2 Thessalonians 1:11–12).
Building on 1 Thessalonians, Paul clarifies what must happen before the Lord’s coming: a rebellion and the revealing of “the man of lawlessness,” whom Jesus will overthrow by the breath of His mouth at His appearing (2 Thessalonians 2:3–8; cf. 1 Thessalonians 4:13–18, 5:1–11). Until that day, the church must “stand firm and hold to the traditions” taught by the apostles, trusting the Lord to comfort and strengthen their hearts (2 Thessalonians 2:15–17). Paul also addresses a practical problem—idleness—commanding believers to work quietly and earn their own living, and instructing the church to correct those who refuse to obey (2 Thessalonians 3:6–12, 14–15). In the story of salvation, 2 Thessalonians keeps our eyes fixed on Christ’s certain return and calls us to steady, holy, hope-filled lives while we wait (2 Thessalonians 3:5, 13).
Paul writes 1 Corinthians to a gifted but divided church in a major port city shaped by status, rhetoric, and idolatry (Acts 18:1–11). After hearing troubling reports and receiving their questions, he calls them back to the gospel—to humble unity and holy living (1 Corinthians 1:10–13, 5:1–2, 7:1, 11:18). From the start, Paul centers everything on “Christ crucified,” God’s wisdom and power, not human show (1 Corinthians 1:18–25, 2:1–2). Because they belong to Jesus, they must stop boasting in leaders, flee sexual sin, and remember they are God’s temple where the Spirit dwells (1 Corinthians 3:16–17, 5:1–13, 6:18–20). Love—not pride or personal rights—must shape their life together (1 Corinthians 8:9–13, 13:1–7).
Paul also answers practical questions about marriage and singleness (1 Corinthians 7), food and idolatry (1 Corinthians 8–10), and gathered worship (1 Corinthians 11–14). He urges them to build up the church: take the Lord’s Supper in a worthy way, honor one another, and use spiritual gifts for the common good, not for display (1 Corinthians 11:23–26; 12:4–7; 14:12, 26). The famous “love chapter” shows that without love, even the greatest gifts amount to nothing (1 Corinthians 13:1–3). Above all, Paul insists on the bodily resurrection of Jesus and its hope for believers; because Christ is raised, our faith is not empty, our labor is not in vain, and we will be raised imperishable (1 Corinthians 15:3–4, 20–22, 51–58).
In the story of salvation, 1 Corinthians shows the gospel forming a holy people in a worldly place. The church is God’s family, Christ’s body, and the Spirit’s temple—set apart to reflect His character (1 Corinthians 1:2, 3:16, 12:12–27). So we lay down our rights for the weak (1 Corinthians 8:11), pursue love (1 Corinthians 14:1), and do all to the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31). Standing on the sure foundation—Jesus Christ our Lord—we work together for the advance of the gospel until He comes (1 Corinthians 3:11; 16:13–14, 22–24).
Just Keith Harris 