This phase reflects contains the apostle John’s writings. His gospel and letters teach us how to walk in truth in love. Revelation closes the New Testament with a powerful vision of Jesus’s return and eternal reign.
Phase 4 is the embodiment of two passages from the end of John’s gospel, so we’ll let the Holy Spirit through John explain:
John 20:30-31 —
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.
John 21:24-25 —
This is the disciple who is bearing witness about these things, and who has written these things, and we know that his testimony is true. Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.
These verses not only represent John’s aim when writing as he was “carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Peter 1:21); they represent our heart in seeking to get folks into God’s Word — “so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name (John 20:31). Our goal isn’t clicks or likes or to give ribbons for finishing a reading plan. We want to see Jesus high and lifted up. And while there are many books written about Him and “the world itself could not contain the books that would be written” (John 21:25) if every moment of His life on earth were recorded, there is no books greater than those of holy Scripture to introduce us God in flesh than the New Testament.
Let’s dig in together and finish well — let us seek and see Jesus together!
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.
The book of Revelation opens with these words: “The revelation of Jesus Christ” (Rev. 1:1). This is not first a book about timelines, symbols, or end-times speculation—it is an unveiling of Jesus. Through vivid imagery and powerful visions, Revelation pulls back the curtain to show what is really true: Jesus is risen, reigning, and returning. Much of its language and imagery draw from the Old Testament—especially books like Daniel, Ezekiel, and Zechariah—so that what may seem strange at first is actually deeply rooted in God’s earlier promises. Because of this, Revelation is not always meant to be read in a strictly literal or step-by-step way like other New Testament books. It is a picture-rich, symbol-heavy book meant to reveal truth, not hide it.
At the center of everything Revelation shows us is Jesus Himself. He is the Son of Man walking among His churches (1:12–13), the Lamb who was slain and yet stands victorious (5:6), the King of kings who rules over history (19:16), and the One who will make all things new (21:5). Revelation reminds us that behind the visible world is a greater reality—one where Christ has already secured the victory through His death and resurrection (Col. 2:15), and where every enemy will ultimately be defeated. No matter how chaotic things may appear, Jesus is not absent. He is reigning now, and He will return to judge evil, rescue His people, and establish His kingdom forever.
Revelation was written to real churches facing real pressure—persecution, compromise, and the temptation to give up. Like the Gospel of John, it calls us to believe—but here, that belief is strengthened in the face of suffering and uncertainty. As we read, we are not trying to decode every symbol or map out every detail. Instead, we are looking to see Jesus more clearly, trust Him more fully, and follow Him more faithfully. This book calls us to endure, to remain faithful, and to worship the One who holds all things in His hands. In the end, Revelation is not meant to confuse us, but to anchor us: Jesus wins—and all who belong to Him will share in His victory.
To help, Jamie Harrison and I (Keith) have been walking through Revelation in a series of Bible studies called The KING is Coming; check them out!
Because Revelation is unique, our daily reading helps will look a little different than the rest of NT260. Instead of only summarizing each chapter, each day will include (1) a brief overview of the chapter to help you follow the flow, and (2) a focused paragraph highlighting what that chapter reveals about Jesus. From there, we’ll continue with a key verse, a personal reflection, and a mission challenge just like the rest of the plan. The goal is not to untangle every detail, but to keep our eyes fixed on Christ—to see Him clearly in every chapter and respond in faith, worship, and obedience.
We’re back in our study of Revelation called The KING is Coming, where we’re taking a verse-by-verse approach to see what the book truly reveals—Jesus Christ Himself. As always, I’m joined by Jamie Harrison, and I’m thankful for the opportunity to walk through this study together. Today, we’ll be looking at the last of Jesus’s letters to the churches, this time turning to the church in Laodicea. This week’s passage is Revelation 3:14-22:
14 “And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: ‘The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of God’s creation.
15 “ ‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! 16 So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. 17 For you say, “I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing,” not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. 18 I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. 19 Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. 20 Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. 21 The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. 22 He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’ ”[1]
Keith Harris: Welcome to this week’s Refresh & Restore Bible study. We are in our The King Is Coming study of the book of Revelation, and today we’re closing out the section on Jesus’s letters to the churches with what’s probably the best known of those — Jesus’s letter to the church in Laodicea.
Today, just as we have been recently, we are here with Jamie Harrison. Hey, Jamie.
Jamie Harrison: Hey Keith. Good to be here with you today doing this Bible study. I feel as though we’ve never left.
Keith: Well, sometimes it can just feel like we’ve recorded two or three of these right in a row.
Jamie: Again, it can feel just like that.
Keith: Sometimes it is that. Before we get into too much banter, let’s dive into the letter to Laodicea. What have you got for us today?
Jamie: Hopefully the Bible has stuff for us and not me.
Keith: Amen. Amen.
Jamie: So the letter to Laodicea — Laodicea, Laodicea — yes, yes — is the toughest letter of all the seven letters to the churches. With Sardis, which was a tough letter — you have Him saying, you know, Jesus says that you’re dead, right? You’re living on a reputation, but you’re dead. But He even gives them a little bit of praise where He says, “Hey, you’ve got some who are still keeping My word.” But with this letter to Laodicea, there is none of that right there. There is no praise at all.
Keith: There’s opportunity, that’s right — but no praise. And for context — we talked about this a little while ago — for context, the church in Laodicea and the church of the Colossians, thirty years prior to this, twenty years prior to this, Paul talked about them in unison. That, you know, you read this person’s letter, y’all read this one. He talked about them well. But here we are a generation or so later, and Jesus says a lot of tough stuff to them.
Jamie: And so, of course, the letter starts off just as the other ones have — with that salutation of “Write to the angel of the church in Laodicea,” which again, the angel — the pastor. And then He gives attributes of Himself. “Thus says the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the originator of God’s creation.” So you get the idea here. The Amen is certainty. Veracity. Christ has the final word, so to speak. The faithful and true witness — He is completely trustworthy. He’s a perfectly accurate witness to the truth of God, so to speak. And the originator of God’s creation — so there’s this heresy that was going on in Laodicea and Colossae that Christ was a created being. And you can look back at Colossians 1:15–19 for that.
Keith: And heresy — that’s a word that means it has been clearly established and understood to be not biblical. And it’s really and truthfully meant to be not biblical — to throw people off, right? And so I just wanted to clarify that. It’s not a word we hear often, because we live in a very permissive society where some people — even pastors — will have sort of a laissez-faire, hands-off, anything-goes attitude. Jesus especially didn’t when He came to the church at Colossae, because He corrected that, like Jamie’s about to do here.
Jamie: And so the originator of God’s creation is — I’ve been here since the beginning. I’m not a created being. I was here at the beginning. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” And even back in Genesis — it’s “Let us make man.” It’s plural. We were here from the beginning. We created the heavens and the earth. We did those things. And so Jesus corrects this: I’ve been here from the beginning, and what I’m about to say is truth — and has always been — and it is the final word. So He jumps right into it and He says: “I know your works. You are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were cold or hot.” So in all these letters, you’ll notice that Jesus is personal with these churches. He points out different things that would have been personal to them. Last week we talked about the church in Philadelphia and the earthquakes they had — and being called pillars, something that would not fall apart when the earthquake hits. So it’s very personal to them. And here He gets personal right off the bat. He says, “I know that you’re neither cold nor hot.” What you need to know about Laodicea is that they didn’t have a water source there. They had all of their water piped in through underground aqueducts. And as you can imagine, by the time the water got to them, it was very lukewarm. It wasn’t cold, it wasn’t hot — but in fact, it was dirty and lukewarm.
Keith: In lots of places at the time — if you think about it in the context of the era in which this was written, where this church existed — if they had hot springs, they were renowned for that. People would come to those hot springs. If they had cool, clear water, people would come from miles around to get some of this cool, clear water. But by the time it got to them, it wasn’t either of the valuable water sources, right?
Jamie: Meaning it wasn’t useful, right? And so, of course, the people that live there — you know, you get used to it after a while. I guess your stomach builds up a tolerance to it, whatever the case may be. I don’t know how that works. I’m not a doctor or scientist by any stretch of the imagination or anything like that. But what we do know is that especially with visitors — when they would come to the city — if they would take a drink of the water, they would immediately puke it out. Because of the lukewarmness, because of the dirt and stuff that was in it, it would cause an immediate reaction from the body to puke. Or throw up. Or spit out. Whatever you want to say. And so don’t get lost in the fact that Jesus is being very personal with this church. “Hey, you guys are like this water. You’re not useful.” And because you’re not useful, He goes on in verse 16: “Because you are lukewarm and neither cold nor hot, I am going to vomit you — or spit you — or puke you — whatever you want to call it — out of My mouth.” So again — very, very personal. You guys are not useful to Me. You are something that needs to be thrown up and gotten rid of.
Keith: And the tense of that word in Greek is almost like a snapshot — like a Polaroid. He’s wanting them to get this picture, get this image, and realize — you know, sometimes when we see a spit take or something like that, we might find it humorous in today’s time. But if you’re the one who’s taking something into your mouth that is not what you wanted, not what you were going for — it’s not a pleasant experience. You want to expel it. You don’t want to deal with it. It’s an instantaneous reaction. And Jesus is saying, the way y’all are right now — this is what it will be if it continues. That’s a big deal.
Jamie: And again, He identified Himself as the originator of God’s creation. So this is the Creator of the world saying to you —
Keith: “You’re useless.”
Jamie: Right. And so as we move forward here — a couple more things about Laodicea that will help us put this in context and make sense. They were a very, very wealthy city. They trusted in themselves a lot because of this wealth — as oftentimes happens. And they had three main industries. One of those industries was banking. One of those industries was wool. And one of those industries was medicine. Specifically salve for eyes. Very specifically, they had created this tablet and they would crush it up and put it on the eyes and supposedly it would help you with stuff. And I’m sure it did. I don’t know. I didn’t live back then. But I’m sure it worked to some extent.
Keith: I mean, if you’re famous for something — it’s not like they could go to a market and buy it back then. If people are coming to buy it —
Jamie: Must have worked, right? And so with the wool — obviously you think garments. Banking — you think money. And so again, Jesus being very, very personal with this church, as He goes forward He says in verse 17: “For you say, ‘I am rich. I have become wealthy and need nothing.’” So He gives one side of the coin. You’re rich. I need nothing. I’ve got everything I need. here’s your banking industry. And then He turns around and gives the spiritual counterpart to that. He says, “But you don’t realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked.” So He’s going to hit every single industry on this one. You’re poor. You’re blind. And you’re naked.
Keith: And rather than being respected, people are going to pity you. And you just can’t see it.
Jamie: That’s right. And so He goes forward to say: “I advise you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire so that you may be rich.” And I think back to 1 Peter 1:5–7 there, that tells us that fire proves the purity of gold. We know that. But what Peter tells us there in chapter 1 is that it proves the character of our faith. So what is Jesus saying here? “I advise you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire so that you may be rich.” In other words — you live for Me. You have a relationship with Me. You do the things that I’ve called you to do and asked you to do. And when you’re put through the fire of testing, through the fire of trials, through the fire of persecution — you’ll come out on the other side and be with Me for eternity.
Keith: Versus thinking you’re fine by yourself.
Jamie: That’s right.
Keith: And I mean, that’s the case. You think about it — pure gold. He’s giving something of higher value. If you’re in a banking industry, that’s something you’re going to understand. Hey, you’ve got gold — sure. But this is pure, refined gold. This is a higher carat weight, so to speak. So He’s basically saying, “You think you’ve got all this — but I’ve got the real thing.”
Jamie: And think about right now — the time that we live in. January of 2025. Think about the inflation that’s been going on the last few years and how much everything costs. You know how much it’s worth, right? So I think of — just say me personally — financially, every month my wife and I get a check from the school where we work. We know how much we’re going to get paid. We have a budget. We pay the bills. We have X amount for food and things like that. When this inflation hit — it wasn’t the case anymore. All of a sudden, I talked to a lot of people during these last couple of years who have been like, “Man, with the interest rates going up, with the food prices going up, the gas prices going up — I just don’t know what to do. I can’t afford to live anymore. What am I supposed to do?” And it reminds me of this letter. You get to the point where you’re comfortable and you depend on yourself to pay the bills, to get the food that you need — instead of, even when times are good, knowing where it comes from.
Keith: “I am rich. I have prospered. I need nothing.” You get a shift in verb tenses there. “I am currently rich because I have prospered in the past.” And essentially when we get to that point — and it’s much more difficult to seek Christ when things are going well, because you forget how needy you are. And they did.
Jamie: And I think back to — you know — whoever the richest person in the world is right now. I don’t know who it is today. It seems to change from day to day.
Keith: Not us.
Jamie: Definitely not us. But the fact is — according to the Word — you can be the richest man in the world and have nothing if you don’t have Jesus. I think of that song: “I’d rather have Jesus than anything.” You know, “I’d rather have Jesus than silver or gold.” That’s it. And so that’s the idea that Jesus is getting at here. And so He goes on to say, “I advise you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire so that you may be rich, white clothes so that you may be dressed and your shameful nakedness not be exposed.” Now He’s hitting that second industry — that wool industry. Those garments. They had very nice clothes. Because of the wool they produced, the dark wool, the dyed garments. So they thought, “Look at how clothed I am. Look at how nice I look. Look at me. Look at me.” You watch some of those award shows — I don’t think anybody watches anymore — and they come in with their dresses and suits. “Who are you wearing?”
Keith: Walmart.
Jamie: That’s right. Walmart. Whichever one’s on sale. Amazon. China. We don’t care. Just something cheap. But their idea was: “Look at me.” And Jesus says, “But you need to ask Me for white clothes so that you may be dressed and your shameful nakedness not be exposed.” In other words — you don’t even realize you’re naked. I think back to Adam and Eve in Genesis. They didn’t realize they were naked. They were clothed with God’s righteousness in the beginning. They were pure. Without sin. That’s that idea of white. Then in Genesis 3 they sin, and the shame forces them to go get itchy, scratchy leaves and put them on to cover themselves up because their nakedness has been exposed. It’s the exact same idea. Isaiah 20:1–4 gives that same idea of shame for nakedness. Ezekiel 23:29 — two immoral sisters. Revelation 16:15 — another example you can look at.
Keith: There’s something John and I were talking about a couple of weeks ago. It kind of reminds me of Hebrews 4:12–13. You know, a lot of times we talk about the Word of God being living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, dividing even soul and spirit, joints and marrow, discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. A lot of times we talk about that as being the written Word of God. But we were looking at it the other day — in the direct context of Hebrews 4, it’s not talking about the written word. It’s talking about Jesus — the Word. And so He’s already told them in this letter — and again, I never put it together like this — He is the beginning of God’s creation, the originator of it. He’s the Word that was spoken in which everything is made. Everything is held together by the word of His power. And now the church at Laodicea is laid before Him — their sin being naked and exposed, like Hebrews 4:13. He knows the thoughts and intentions of their heart. They need to listen to Him. Because they’re in danger.
Jamie: Yeah. That’s right. And so He tells them — you need these white clothes that come from Me. In Revelation 19:8 it says — this is talking about the church, the bride of Christ: “She was given fine linen to wear, bright and pure, for the fine linen represents the righteous acts of the saints.” These believers — the church — the bride of Christ — will be dressed with God’s grace, with God’s righteousness when we get to heaven and spend eternity with Him. So what do they need? They need His grace. And what do we need now? His grace. And so He goes from there and He’s going to hit that third industry. He says not only do you need white garments, but you need ointment to spread on your eyes so that you may see. So He’s hitting this church hard. You guys sell all this stuff. You think it’s awesome because it fixes your eyes and you’re not blind anymore and you can see better. But no — you’re blind. Even with yourself. You’re blind. He says you need ointment that can only come from Me. In 2 Peter 1:5–9 it says: “For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with goodness, goodness with knowledge, knowledge with self-control, self-control with endurance, endurance with godliness, godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being useless or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. The person who lacks these things is blind and short-sighted and has forgotten the cleansing from his past sins.” So you talk about a direct correlation here. The Word literally says that if you don’t have these things, you’re blind and short-sighted and you’ve forgotten that you’ve been cleansed from your sins.
Keith: Twenty, thirty years ago everything was fine. But now things were fine for so long they forgot. They needed the Lord.
Jamie: And so then He doubles down here — I don’t know if “doubles down” is the right word — but in verse 19 He says: “As many as I love, I rebuke and discipline.” Okay, so in other words — look guys, I know I’m coming down hard on you. I’m speaking the truth to you. But it’s because I love you. It’s because I love you. Now hear that. Because some people will listen to this and say, “Look, there’s God. He’s such a dictator. All He does is bash people.” And I’ve told on this podcast before — my vision of God when I was growing up was a dude sitting on a throne with a pitchfork waiting to throw me into hell the first time I messed up. And then if I got saved and messed up, I had to get saved again and again and again and again and again and again and again — because He was going to throw me into hell every time that I sinned. And He was waiting for it. Like He was literally sitting — you know how you picture a guy crouched down in a video game and he’s waiting on you to come around the corner and then he pounces on you? That’s how I pictured God.
Keith: Like He’s trying to keep you from some fulfillment you were going to get.
Jamie: That’s right. And instead it says: Look — as bad as you guys are — I want to puke you out of My mouth. But in verse 19: “As many as I love, I rebuke and discipline.” So He doubles down on the rebuke. He doubles down on the discipline. But He explains why. It’s because I love you. It’s because I care about you. It’s because I want you to spend eternity with Me. And then He tells them what to do: “So be zealous and repent.” So if you notice, that repent word keeps coming up over and over and over and over in this study.
Keith: The whole Bible, really.
Jamie: And so I think before we move on, it’s imperative to say here — Look guys. And I heard a guy say this one time and it freaked me out when he said it, but now I understand it. He said, “It doesn’t matter what you do. God loves you.” And I was like, whoa. Hold on just a minute. That’s not true. But here’s what he meant. No matter what we’ve done — if we repent, confess Jesus as Lord, believe in our heart beyond a shadow of a doubt that He was raised from the dead — then we’ll be saved. No matter what we’ve done. No matter how bad it is. There’s not much that shocks me anymore being a middle school principal. I hear lots and lots of stories and things that have happened to kids — and things that just make you stare at the wall at night. Keep you up. But all of that stuff I’ve heard that’s been done — if those people ask for forgiveness, Jesus will forgive them.
Keith: And just as it was with the church at Laodicea — He knows the heart. It’s more than words. It’s more than religion. This is genuinely looking at the love God has. And even when it seems like He’s excitable here in His wrath and judgment — He wants to puke them from His mouth — He’s tempered by His love. And they need to get excitable. They need to warm up. They need to be heated — heated to repentance. He’s not saying this trying to scare people into some words. He’s not trying to get an emotional response. He’s trying to remind people that the God who loves them has made a way for them in Jesus. And that if they don’t respond in faith, they’re going to get what He’s promised. It’s not a threat. It’s a reality. He is the way.
Jamie: And that brings the question up that a lot of people ask: “If God is so loving, then why do people go to hell?” If God is so loving — all these things. Here’s the fact: If God didn’t love us, He would not be as patient as He is with us. Everything we’re about to read for the rest of this book of Revelation could happen real quick and in a hurry. Why hasn’t it happened yet? Because He’s still giving us a chance to repent. Right? And so to go along with verse 19 there — “be zealous and repent” — Hebrews 12:5–6 says: “My son, do not take the Lord’s discipline lightly or lose heart when you are reproved by Him, for the Lord disciplines the one He loves and punishes every son He receives.” In other words, the Lord is going to discipline us to get us where we need to be. Sometimes we will go through times of trial. We will go through things in our lives where you go, “Lord, where are You in all this?” But we’re going to grow through it if we remain faithful to Him. We’re going to draw closer to Him through it if we remain faithful. And so the idea there is — repent.
Keith: Sounds kind of silly in the context, but I watched a clip yesterday from an old video where Mr. Rogers — sweater, cardigan, PBS Mr. Rogers — was sitting and listening and talking to a group of parents way back when. Had to be at least the ’80s. As they’re sitting there talking, he’s asking these parents, you know, “Are there some times when you’re raising your kids that you disciplined in a way that you wish you hadn’t?” And these parents are sharing with Mr. Rogers. And you’re expecting him — because he’s always this chill, calm, caring presence — I mean, he epitomizes care in my mind. But he described a time when his boys were young — one who was very boisterous — and there’d be times when he would be so angry at the kid because of something he had done or was doing. But rather than responding in kind in his discipline, he just wrapped his arms around the kid and hugged him up. And I remember sitting there thinking — first off, I can’t imagine Mr. Rogers getting angry in the first place. He literally said he was furious. So I’m like, wow. That’s kind of scary. I think I would be frightened by angry Mr. Rogers. But what he said — just as Jamie was talking about the love and the discipline that comes with the love of God — he said he wrapped his arms around his son because his son’s arms weren’t enough. And so we can’t course-correct on our own. We’re not going to repent if left to our own devices. Left to our own — period. God wraps us up in His love. And sometimes that love He wraps us up in is discipline. But it’s because our arms aren’t enough. His are. And so when you look at this — again, like Jamie said — we get the image of God as this dictator who’s trying to keep us from the fun we want to have or the life we think would be fulfilling. He didn’t have to tell them they were lukewarm. He didn’t have to tell them He wanted to puke them from His mouth. He didn’t have to make Adam and Eve better clothing to cover their shame. He didn’t have to expel them from the garden and let them live. But in love — He did. It’s so important to see there that yes, He’s telling you to repent. Yes, that means you’ve done wrong. He’s telling you out of a heart of love. Because He knows what works best. And He’s trying to keep you from hurting yourself — and others.
Jamie: So the end of this letter here — verse 20 — says: “See, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with Me.” And I don’t think there’s much more intimate of a setting than to eat with somebody. It’s a pretty cool thought. You think of the marriage supper of the Lamb and that we’ll all be sitting with Jesus eating that meal together. So that’s the idea. He is standing at the door of this church — which is us believers. He’s knocking. He’s not banging. He’s not forcing the door open. He’s just knocking. And if we’ll open that door, then He’ll come in and we can have a relationship with Him. And guys — that’s powerful. It’s very, very powerful. And again He goes to: “To the one who conquers I will give the right to sit with Me on My throne, just as I also conquered and sat down with My Father on His throne.” In other words — we’ll spend eternity with Him if we conquer. 1 John 5:4–5 — we keep going back to that — who is the one who conquers? It’s the one who is saved. The one who has a relationship with Him. And of course the letter ends the same way the rest have: “Let anyone who has ears to hear listen to what the Spirit says to the churches.” And I think what the Spirit seems to be saying to the churches is: One — if you don’t know Me, it’s time. Two — if you do know Me but you’ve become spiritually lukewarm, spiritually cold, spiritually distant — then it’s time to get right. It’s time to respond. Big John preached again last Sunday — January 5, 2025 — if you want to go back and look at that. His point was every member of the body has a function. Even the appendix has a function — because if it bursts, the whole body goes away. So whether you think you’re the appendix or the kidney — we all have to be doing our job as Christ has called us to do. The idea I get through these seven letters is this: What I think being a Christian is, and what Jesus says being a Christian is, might be two different things. So I need to step back and reflect. What has Jesus called me to do? What am I missing because I’m not listening? And again — if I don’t know Jesus — that’s where we have to start.
Keith: Yeah. And the idea here — and we’re not trying to be cheesy.
Jamie: I’m not a big cheese guy anyway.
Keith: Not trying to do some invitation where music’s playing softly and somebody’s saying—
Jamie: “I surrender all…”
Keith: Definitely not that. But here’s the deal. We’ve got to be clear on the invitation. And I think, you know, out of all the letters to the churches, the church at Ephesus was meant to be written first. The church at Laodicea was meant to be written last. The idea is — He has offered this invitation. He wants to eat with you. He wants to dwell with you. He wants you to confess Him as Lord. It is His desire that all people be saved — but not at the expense of His holiness. He says it’s His desire that all should be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth. He is the faithful and true witness. He is God. And as He offers this — He’s knocking. Not forcing Himself upon you. As one of my FCA kiddos said a while back — “Jesus is a gentleman.” He’s not forcing Himself on anybody. As He stands there at the door and knocks and you hear His voice — understand this: Nothing Jamie and I say in teaching has any lasting power. It’s the Bible that we point you to. If you’ve heard the Bible read here today — If you read it written — You’ve heard His voice. Are you going to open to Him?
And ultimately, as we go through the rest of this book, you can get caught up in end-times stuff. You can seek to have your questions answered. Know who the 144,000 are. When the millennium is. When this is. When that is. But ultimately — if you look for the Revelation and you miss Jesus — Then you had an ear. You had the opportunity to hear. And you left the door closed.
Sojourner — it’s up to you. Jesus is knocking. Are you going to open?
This phase reflects contains the apostle John’s writings. His gospel and letters teach us how to walk in truth in love. Revelation closes the New Testament with a powerful vision of Jesus’s return and eternal reign.
Phase 4 is the embodiment of two passages from the end of John’s gospel, so we’ll let the Holy Spirit through John explain:
John 20:30-31 —
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.
John 21:24-25 —
This is the disciple who is bearing witness about these things, and who has written these things, and we know that his testimony is true. Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.
These verses not only represent John’s aim when writing as he was “carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Peter 1:21); they represent our heart in seeking to get folks into God’s Word — “so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name (John 20:31). Our goal isn’t clicks or likes or to give ribbons for finishing a reading plan. We want to see Jesus high and lifted up. And while there are many books written about Him and “the world itself could not contain the books that would be written” (John 21:25) if every moment of His life on earth were recorded, there is no books greater than those of holy Scripture to introduce us God in flesh than the New Testament.
Let’s dig in together and finish well — let us seek and see Jesus together!
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.
John
The Gospel of John was written by John the son of Zebedee—one of the twelve apostles — and the author identifies himself as “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 13:23, 19:26, 21:24). Early church testimony strongly supports this, and John’s Gospel reads like the work of an eyewitness who carefully chose what to include so readers would see Jesus clearly. John likely wrote from Ephesus in Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey), and the date is commonly placed late in the first century (often around AD 70–100, with many suggesting roughly AD 80–90). John writes with both Jews and Gentiles in mind, often explaining Jewish customs and terms, and he aims for wide circulation beyond one local church setting.
John’s purpose is stated plainly: these things “have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:30–31). In the story of salvation, John presents Jesus as God in the flesh—the Word who “became flesh” (John 1:14) — who reveals the Father perfectly (John 14:9) and fulfills the hopes and promises of the Old Testament. John highlights Jesus as the true center of worship and redemption, especially powerful in light of the temple’s destruction, showing that God’s saving presence is found in Jesus himself (John 2:19–21). The climax of that fulfillment comes through Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, where the Lamb of God gives His life to save sinners and to bring eternal life to all who believe (John 1:29, 3:16).
John builds his Gospel around powerful “signs” and deep conversations that point beyond miracles to who Jesus truly is. Again and again, Jesus shows that He is not merely a teacher but the divine Savior: the “I Am” who gives light, life, and a sure hope that begins now and lasts forever (John 8:12, 11:25–26, 14:6). John also stresses that believing is not just agreeing with facts — it is trusting Jesus personally, receiving Him, and resting in His saving work (John 1:12, 5:24). The Gospel calls readers to a decision: to come to the Son, to know the Father, and to live—because in Jesus, God has come near to rescue, redeem, and restore.
1 John was written by the apostle John — the “beloved disciple” who witnessed Jesus’ life, death, resurrection, and post-resurrection appearances (1 John 1:1–3; cf. John 13:23; 20:2–10; 21:7, 20). The strong early church testimony and the striking overlap in vocabulary, themes, and tone with John’s Gospel point to the same author, writing with the authority of an elder statesman who is well-known to his readers. John likely wrote from Ephesus to a network of churches in Asia Minor, sometime late in the first century (often dated in the early-to-mid 90s), after the Gospel of John but before the close of John’s life.
John writes to strengthen believers who have been shaken by false teachers and by a painful “going out” from within the church (1 John 2:19). These opponents denied core truths about Jesus — especially that He is the Christ, the Son of God come in the flesh — and their theology spilled into twisted living and broken love (1 John 2:22–23, 4:2–3, 3:10–18). Rather than offering speculation, John calls Christians back to the basics: true doctrine about Christ, obedient living, and sincere love for one another — because “God is light” and “God is love” (1 John 1:5, 4:8). His aim is not to crush tender consciences but to steady them, so they can know they truly belong to God and rejoice in the gospel God has accomplished.
At the heart of 1 John is assurance grounded in what God has done in His Son: Jesus is the atoning sacrifice for our sins and the advocate for believers when we sin (1 John 2:1–2, 4:10). Those who truly know God will not be perfect, but they will be marked over time by walking in the light, confessing sin, obeying Christ’s commands, and loving the brothers and sisters in practical ways (1 John 1:7–9, 2:3–6, 3:16–18). John’s repeated “tests” are not a ladder to earn salvation but a way to recognize real life — because eternal life is found “in his Son,” and John writes “that you may know that you have eternal life” (1 John 5:11–13).
This phase reflects the influence of Peter. The Gospel of Mark is widely understood to preserve Peter’s preaching and eyewitness testimony. Peter’s letters call believers to faithfulness in suffering, holiness in a hostile world, and hope anchored in the return of Christ. Jude echoes those same concerns, warning against false teachers and urging the church to contend for the faith—making it a fitting companion to 2 Peter.
What makes this transition especially meaningful is where Phase 2 ended. Our final reading in Phase 2 was 2 Timothy 4, the ending to Paul’s final letter, written from prison as he awaited martyrdom. In that chapter, Paul asked Timothy to bring John Mark with him, saying, “for he is very useful to me for ministry” (2 Timothy 4:11). That single line carries a beautiful story of restoration. Earlier in Acts, Mark had withdrawn from missionary work, leading to a sharp disagreement between Paul and Barnabas (Acts 13:13, 15:36–40). Yet years later, as Paul’s life and ministry draw to a close, Mark is not only restored — but trusted.
This restoration had already begun. During Paul’s earlier imprisonment, Mark was with him, and Paul instructed the churches to welcome him (Colossians 4:10). By the time Paul writes his final words, Mark is no longer a cautionary tale but a valued coworker.
It is no accident — at least not in the ultimate sense — but neither is it the result of our own brilliant planning. This is one of those quiet God-winks that reminds us the Lord is always telling a bigger story than we realize. As Phase 2 ends with Paul’s final words and his restored confidence in John Mark, Phase 3 begins with Mark’s Gospel. The man once known for faltering becomes the one entrusted with recording Peter’s testimony about Jesus. The gospel that opens this phase is written by a restored servant, shaped by an apostle who knew suffering well, and given to a church learning how to endure faithfully until the end.
Phase 3, then, is not only about persevering in the last days — it is about the God who restores His people, strengthens them through trial, guards them from error, and keeps them faithful until Christ returns.
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.
Mark
The Gospel of Mark tells the story of Jesus as the long-promised Savior who has come to bring God’s Kingdom near. From the opening line, Mark moves quickly to show that Jesus is not simply a teacher or miracle worker, but the Son of God who arrives with divine authority (Mark 1:1, 14–15). Rooted deeply in the Old Testament story, Mark presents Jesus as the fulfillment of God’s promises to Israel — One who confronts sin, sickness, demons, and death itself. Yet from the start, Jesus is also misunderstood and opposed, especially by Israel’s leaders, revealing the deep spiritual blindness of the human heart (Mark 2:1–3:6, 4:11–12).
As the story unfolds, Mark emphasizes that Jesus’s identity can only be rightly understood through suffering. Again and again, Jesus reshapes expectations of what the Messiah has come to do. He is the Son of Man with authority, but He is also the suffering Servant who must be rejected, killed, and rise again (Mark 8:31, 10:45). This path to the cross stands at the center of God’s plan of salvation. Jesus triumphs not through power as the world understands it, but through humble obedience, laying down His life as a ransom for many (Mark 14:36, 15:39).
Mark also shows that following Jesus means sharing in this same pattern. True discipleship is not merely believing the right things but living in faithful trust and costly obedience. Those who follow Jesus are called to deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow Him—even in the face of rejection and suffering (Mark 8:34–38). The gospel Mark proclaims climaxes in the crucifixion and resurrection, where Jesus decisively defeats sin and Satan and opens the way for everlasting salvation. In God’s unfolding story, Mark reminds us that the kingdom comes through the cross, and that life is found by following the crucified and risen King.
The letter of 1 Peter was written by the apostle Peter to encourage believers who were suffering because of their faith. From the opening, Peter identifies his readers as God’s chosen people — “exiles” scattered across the provinces of Asia Minor (1 Peter 1:1). Whether that exile language is partly literal or mainly spiritual, the point is clear: Christians live in a world that does not fully welcome them, because their true home and inheritance are with God (1 Peter 1:3–5, 2:11). Peter writes to strengthen weary saints with hope — hope grounded not in easier circumstances, but in the resurrection of Jesus Christ and the sure promise of final salvation when Christ returns (1 Peter 1:3–9, 13).
At the heart of 1 Peter is the pattern of Jesus Himself: suffering now, glory later. Peter reminds believers that their trials do not mean God has abandoned them; rather, suffering for doing good is part of following a crucified and risen Savior (1 Peter 2:21–23, 4:12–13). Jesus’s death is not only an example — it is substitutionary atonement that brings sinners to God (1 Peter 2:24, 3:18). And Jesus’s resurrection and ascension mean evil will not have the final word: Christ has triumphed, and all powers are subject to Him (1 Peter 3:22). Because of what Christ has done, believers have been given new birth into a living hope and are being guarded by God for an inheritance that cannot perish (1 Peter 1:3–5).
That living hope shapes everyday life. Peter calls Christians to holy, love-filled obedience that makes the gospel visible in a hostile culture (1 Peter 1:14–16, 2:11–12). He describes the church as God’s new temple — “living stones” built into a spiritual house — and God’s covenant people: a chosen race, royal priesthood, holy nation, and treasured possession (1 Peter 2:4–10). Then he brings that identity down into the ordinary places where pressure is often felt most — relationships, workplaces, homes, and society — urging believers to do good, to honor authorities rightly, to endure unjust treatment faithfully, and to answer hostility with blessing (1 Peter 2:13–17, 18–20; 3:1–9). In short, 1 Peter teaches Christians how to stand firm in “the true grace of God” (1 Peter 5:12): suffering without losing hope, living holy without becoming harsh, and bearing witness to Jesus while waiting for the day when God will fully vindicate His people.
2 Peter is a final letter written by the apostle Peter near the end of his life, likely from Rome, as he awaited martyrdom (2 Peter 1:12–15). Like his first letter, it is written to believers facing real pressure, but this time the danger comes from within the church rather than from outside persecution. Peter writes as a spiritual father giving last reminders, urging Christians to hold firmly to what they already know and believe. He points them back to the truth they received from the apostles and from Scripture, reminding them that the gospel they trusted is not a clever story but God’s revealed truth (2 Peter 1:16–21).
In the flow of the Bible’s story, 2 Peter helps God’s people live faithfully in the time between Jesus’s first and second coming. Jesus has already accomplished salvation through his death and resurrection, but the church now waits for his return. During this waiting, false teachers arise, twisting grace into an excuse for sin and questioning whether Jesus will really come back (2 Peter 2:1–3, 3:3–4). Peter responds by showing that God’s patience is not weakness but mercy, giving people time to repent before the day of judgment comes (2 Peter 3:8–9). Just as God judged rebellion in the past and rescued the righteous, he will do so again at the end (2 Peter 2:4–9).
2 Peter calls believers to live in light of where the story is headed. Because God has promised a new heaven and a new earth where righteousness dwells, Christians are to grow in holiness, knowledge, and steadfast faith now (2 Peter 1:5–11, 3:11–13). The letter closes by urging believers not to drift or be carried away by error, but to keep growing in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ until the day he returns (2 Peter 3:17–18). In this way, 2 Peter strengthens the church to remain faithful to the truth as it waits for the final fulfillment of God’s saving plan.
The book of Jude is a short but urgent letter written by Jude, the brother of James and a half-brother of Jesus (Jude 1, Matthew 13:55). Writing in the mid-60s, Jude addresses believers facing a serious danger from within the church. False teachers had quietly slipped in and were twisting God’s grace into an excuse for sinful living (Jude 4). Jude writes as a servant of Jesus Christ, not appealing to family ties, but calling the church to recognize the seriousness of the moment and to respond with faithfulness and courage.
In the flow of the Bible’s Story, Jude speaks to the life of God’s people after Christ has already accomplished salvation. Because Jesus has secured redemption once for all, believers are now responsible to guard and remain faithful to “the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3). Jude looks back to God’s past acts of judgment and rescue — from the Exodus to Sodom and Gomorrah — to show that God does not ignore rebellion, even among those who claim to belong to Him (Jude 5–7). These warnings remind the church that rejecting God’s truth always leads to destruction, while trusting Him leads to life.
Jude closes by calling believers to persevere with both truth and mercy. They are to build themselves up in faith, pray in the Holy Spirit, and keep themselves in God’s love as they wait for the return of Jesus Christ (Jude 20–21). At the same time, they are to show mercy to those who are wavering, while refusing to compromise with sin (Jude 22–23). The letter ends with a powerful reminder that God himself is the one who keeps His people from falling and will bring them safely into His presence with great joy (Jude 24–25).
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).
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).
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).
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.
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.
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.
39 In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a town in Judah, 40 and she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41 And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, 42 and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! 43 And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45 And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.” 46 And Mary said,
“My soul magnifies the Lord, 47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48 for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49 for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50 And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51 He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; 52 he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; 53 he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. 54 He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, 55 as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”
56 And Mary remained with her about three months and returned to her home. [1]
Merry Christmas, Sojourners!
As we move deeper into this Advent/Christmas season, I keep coming back to the way the Lord trains our hearts through the gifts He gives. He doesn’t just announce that His Son has come – He teaches us to receive Him.
In our first study in this series, we focused on hope – the kind of hope that doesn’t rest on circumstances but on the faithful God who keeps His promises, even through brokenness and waiting. In the second study, we turned to peace – not a thin calm or temporary quiet, but the steady peace Jesus secured by entering our darkness, reconciling us to God, and holding us fast through every season.
Now, we come to joy – and we pause. We need to know what it is – and what it isn’t.
Biblical joy is deeper than a mood or feeling. It’s not the fleeting and ever-changing “happiness” our world tries to chase and manufacture. In Scripture, joy is gladness rooted in God – gladness that can exist even when life is still hard, even when answers are still unfolding. The New Testament word often translated “joy” can describe the rejoicing God inspires, and it can even describe the occasion or grounds for joy – what joy is built on and rises out of (Luke 2:10, Romans 14:17).[2] That’s why biblical joy isn’t fragile. It isn’t dependent on a perfect day or easy circumstances. It grows where mercy takes root, where pride is lowered, where need is admitted, and where God is trusted.
We can miss it if we move too quickly through the Christmas story. In Luke’s Christmas narrative, joy arrives before the word shows up when the shepherds hear “good news of great joy” (Luke 2:10). Months before Bethlehem, joy is already stirring in the hill country of Judea. A baby, filled with the Holy Spirit, leaps for joy in the womb (Luke 1:44). A woman, filled with the Holy Spirit, blesses the mother of her Lord (Luke 1:41-43). And that young mother, Mary – lowly, standing at the beginning of a road she doesn’t yet understand – rejoices in God her Savior (Luke 1:46-47). Joy was already breaking through the darkness, because Jesus was already there!
Luke 1:39-56, our passage for today, shows us that the joy of Christ is grounded in God’s unfolding mercy – mercy that humbles the proud, lifts the lowly, feeds the hungry, and keeps covenant promises stretching all the way back to Abraham (Luke 1:50-55; Genesis 12:1-3, 17:7; Micah 7:18-20). We see this joy in the song Mary sings. The song is deeply personal but not small. It echoes the hope of Hannah long before her (1 Samuel 2:1-10), and it reaches forward to the Kingdom her baby will grow and usher in – a Kingdom where God’s grace reverses what sin has marred, and where the Savior lifts those who put their faith in Him (Luke 4:18-19, 6:20-23; Isaiah 61:1-3).
In Luke 1:39-56, we’ll see that joy is not something Mary manufactures or inspires in others – it’s something God gives as His mercy begins to unfold. We’ll begin by looking at the original context and setting of Mary’s visit to her relative Elizabeth, where joy first breaks through the silence in unexpected ways. Then we’ll listen carefully to Mary’s song – known as the Magnificat, where joy rises from a heart overwhelmed not with herself, but with her God and His mercy. From there, we’ll see how this song points beyond Mary to Jesus Himself – the coming King who fulfills God’s promises and brings lasting joy. And finally, we’ll consider what this passage teaches us about the gift of joy God gives to the lowly and the lifted, to those who know their need of Him and trust His Word.
Original Context & Setting: Joy Breaks the Silence (vv. 39-45)
Luke tells us that “in those days” Mary rose and went “with haste” into the hill country of Judea to visit her relative Elizabeth (Luke 1:39). This small phrase links what follows directly to the angel’s announcement (Luke 1:26-38). Mary doesn’t linger in Nazareth to sort out the social consequences of her pregnancy or demand clarity about her and the baby’s future. Instead, she moves forward in faith (v. 38). She goes to see the sign God Himself had given her: her much older relative Elizabeth, once barren, is now six months pregnant by God’s grace and power (Luke 1:36-37).
Their meeting is inconsequential by worldly standards. No crowds gather. No rulers take notice. Yet this is one of the most theologically rich encounters in all of Scripture. Two miraculous pregnancies meet. Two stories of God’s mercy intersect. And joy erupts before a single word is spoken.
When Mary greets Elizabeth, John the Baptist leaps in his mother’s womb (v. 41). Luke – the physician – is careful to explain that this is no ordinary movement, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, interprets it for us: “the baby in my womb leaped for joy” (v. 44). Even before his birth, John fulfills his calling to prepare the way of the Lord as he recognizes and announces the presence of the Messiah in utero (Luke 1:17, 76; Malachi 3:1; Isaiah 40:3). Joy breaks out not because circumstances are easy, but because Jesus is near.
Elizabeth is then filled with the Spirit herself and cries out in a loud voice, pronouncing Mary “blessed among women”, not for who she is but because of the Child she carries – “blessed is the fruit of your womb” (v. 42). Then, Elizabeth goes further calling Mary “the mother of my Lord” (v. 43). This is a staggering confession. Months before Bethlehem, months before angels sing to shepherd, Jesus is confessed as Lord by a Holy Spirit-filled woman and acknowledged by a Spirit-filled unborn child. The joy here is deeply Christ-centered, not found in Mary but magnifying the Son.
Finally, Elizabeth speaks a blessing that turns our attention to Mary’s response to God’s Word: “Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord” (v. 45). That emphasis on faith matters, especially when we remember that this moment follows a season of silence brought on by unbelief. The Spirit-inspired words spoken through Elizabeth stand in quiet contrast to her husband Zechariah’s earlier doubts, which left him unable to speak until God’s promise began to unfold just as He had said (Luke 1:18–20, 64).[3]
At this point in the Christmas narrative, Mary doesn’t yet see the full shape of God’s plan, but she trusts the God who spoke. And in a time when God had been silent for centuries, His Word breaking forth again was no small thing (Amos 8:11-12). Even though Mary didn’t know how all of this would work out, God was already showing her that He was with her on the journey (Matthew 1:23). We begin to see here that joy doesn’t wait for completion or a finish line. It doesn’t require resolution. It doesn’t depend on our full comprehension of what’s going on or how things will turn out. Joy springs up where God’s Word is believed (Psalm 119:111, Jeremiah 15:16).
Now, the word “joy” doesn’t appear here, but it is already present – present in the leaping child, the Spirit-filled confession of Jesus as Lord, and in Mary’s quiet faith in God’s promise. And it is out of this joy that Mary’s song will rise – not as a sudden emotional outburst, but as a thoughtful, Scripture-shaped response to the mercy of God at work in her life.
The Joy of God’s Mercy in the Magnificat (vv. 46-55)
When Mary finally speaks, she doesn’t begin with explanations, questions, or fear. She begins with worship. Luke tells us, “And Mary said…” (v. 46), and what follows is not a spontaneous emotional overflow but a carefully shaped song, steeped in Scripture and centered on God. This song, as I have mentioned, is known as the Magnificat, named after its opening word in Latin, drawn from Mary’s opening declaration: “My soul magnifies the Lord.” And that opening line sets the tone for everything that follows.
Mary’s joy in this song is not focused on herself. She’s not magnifying her experience, her obedience, or her unique role in human and redemptive history. She magnifies the Lord. Her joy is vertical before it’s personal. She magnifies her Lord and her “spirit rejoices in God [her] Savior” (vv. 46-47). In humility, she calls God her Savior, acknowledging her sin and need for God’s mercy. Joy grows where pride is lessened and God’s grace is welcomed.
She goes on to explain why her soul rejoices: God has looked upon her “humble estate” (v. 48). Mary wasn’t wealthy, powerful, or impressive by any worldly standards. She was young, obscure, and vulnerable. Yet God has seen her. The joy she experiences isn’t rooted in her being chosen because she was worthy, but in being shown mercy despite her lowliness.
From there, Mary’s song widens. What God has done for her personally reveals something true about His character universally. “Holy is His name,” she declares, and “His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation” (vv. 49-50, Exodus 34:6-7, Psalm 103:17). Joy, in Mary’s song, is never detached from who God is. It flows from His holiness, His power, and especially His mercy. This isn’t a one-time act of kindness but a continuation of what God has been unfolding throughout history and continues to unfold today.
As the song continues, Mary celebrates the great reversal God brings—scattering the proud, bringing down the mighty, exalting the humble, filling the hungry, and sending the rich away empty (vv. 51–53, 1 Samuel 2:6-8). These words are not political slogans or rhetoric but theological declarations. Mary rejoices in the way God’s mercy turns worldly values upside down (1 Corinthians 1:27-28). Joy comes not to those who trust in their own strength—because human strength fails and fades—but to those who know their need and look to God to strengthen and save.
Finally, Mary anchors her joy in God’s faithfulness to His promises. He has helped His servant Israel, remembering His mercy “as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever” (vv. 54-55; Genesis 12:1-3, 22:17-18). Her joy rests in God’s covenant faithfulness to His people (Deuteronomy 7:9). God was doing in Mary what He had promised long ago. The mercy unfolding in her womb is connected to promises stretching back generations, all the way to Genesis and Abraham. And she rejoices in the assurance that the God who spoke to her keeps His Word.
This is what makes the Magnificat so magnificent. Mary’s joy is deeply personal but not private. It’s shaped by Scripture, grounded in God’s mercy, and oriented toward His purposes and plan rather than her own. She doesn’t rejoice because she experienced an influx of health, wealth, and prosperity as some falsely promise; she rejoices because God is doing exactly what He said He’d do. And this kind of joy – joy rooted in mercy and tempered in humility and faith – prepares us to see the true significance of the Child she carries. Because Mary’s song does not end with her; it presses us forward to the work this Child has come to accomplish.
Fulfillment in Jesus, the Coming King
In the last two weeks, we’ve looked a lot at Old Testament references in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus and in the prophecy from Isaiah. It took some work to flesh out the promises of God and show their fulfillment in Jesus. Luke 1:39-56 is much easier because Jesus is already there in Mary’s womb (Luke 1:31-33, Galatians 4:4).
The promises Mary celebrates are no longer distant or abstract. They aren’t waiting centuries to be fulfilled. They are present, personal, and alive in the Child she carries. The mercy she sings about has taken on flesh (John 1:14). The King she rejoices in is not merely promised – He is already at work, even before He is born (Luke 1:35, Matthew 1:21).
This is what makes Mary’s joy so striking. She’s not rejoicing in who Jesus will one day become, but in who He already is. The reversals she proclaims – the proud scattered, the lowly lifted, the hungry filled – are not wishful thinking or poetic exaggeration but the certain outworking of God’s mercy now embodied in her Child. Luke has already told us who this Child is. The angel Gabriel announced that He would be given “the throne of His father David”, that He would reign forever, and that “of His Kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:32-33, 2 Samuel 7:12-13, Isaiah 9:6-7). Those promises stand quietly behind every line of the Magnificat. When Mary sings of God helping His servant Israel and remembering His mercy (v. 54), she is rejoicing in the arrival of the long-awaited King who would finally do what no earthly ruler – even her ancestor King David – could: bring salvation, righteousness, and lasting joy (Jeremiah 23:5-6, Zechariah 9:9).
Jesus fulfills everything expressed in Mary’s song. The proud are scattered as human self-sufficiency is exposed by grace (Luke 18:9-14). The mighty are brought low as the true King enters the world unnoticed and lives a life culminating in the cross (Luke 19:38, 23:33; Philippians 2:6-8). The hungry are filled as Jesus offers Himself as the Bread of Life to those who know their need (Luke 6:20-21, John 6:35). And those who cling to wealth, status, and self-righteousness are sent away empty because they refuse to partake of the mercy He so freely gives (Luke 12:15, 18:24-25).
The mercy Mary rejoices in here reaches its fullest expression at the cross, a reality that would one day pierce her own heart (Luke 2:34-35). There, the lowly are lifted, sinners are forgiven, and the proud illusion of being able to earn righteousness collapses. Jesus is not a mere announcement of God’s mercy – He becomes its means, bearing sin and the wrath of God due for it, and reconciling sinners to God (Luke 22:19–20, Romans 5:8–11, Isaiah 53:4-6, 2 Corinthians 5:21). Mary’s joy isn’t sentimental; it’s anchored in the coming sacrifice of her Son.
Thankfully, the sacrifice she would later witness was not the end. The resurrection she would also witness confirms that her joy was well-founded (Luke 24:1-8, Acts 1:14). God keeps His promises (Hebrews 10:23). The King lives. Jesus rises, reigns, and continues to extend the mercy she sang about – gathering the lowly, forgiving the guilty, and bringing true joy to all who trust in Him. This means Mary’s song was not simply a celebration for what God had done for her, but a declaration of what God had begun to do for the world. The Child in her womb is the King who fulfills every promise, secures lasting joy, and proves once and for all that God’s mercy never fails.
Wrapping Up
We’ve talked a lot about joy today, and, if I’m honest, I find myself longing to feel more of that joy myself. Thankfully, biblical joy is more than a feeling. Feelings ebb and flow, changing with circumstances and surroundings. But joy, biblical joy, is found – just as it was with Elizabeth, John the Baptist, and Mary in Luke 1:39-56 – in the presence of Jesus. It is found fixing our eyes on Him and lifting our entire worldview toward Him, seeking what is above rather than being hijacked by all of the bad this fallen world has to offer (Colossians 3:1-4, Hebrews 12:2).
The joy found in Jesus is available today. He brings joy for the lowly and the lifted.
The lowly are those who know their need – who don’t pretend to have it all together, who feel the weight of weakness, guilt, grief, and sin. Like Mary, they may feel insignificant, overlooked, or uncertain about the road ahead. But as Mary taught us, God looks upon our humble estates. He fills the hungry. He draws near to those who fear Him and trust His Word. For the lowly, the joy of Christ isn’t ignoring or denying hardship or difficulty – it’s the assurance that God sees, God keeps His promises, and God is at work even when we can’t see the outcome.
If that’s you today – if you feel lowly, burdened, or aware of your need – Scripture holds out a clear and gracious invitation. The same Jesus who brought joy to Elizabeth and Mary calls you to confess him as Lord and believe that He is who God says He is in His Word. Romans 10:9 makes this clear: “if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” It’s not complicated. It’s not earned. It’s trusting Him. It’s faith (Ephesians 2:8-9). And just as it was for them, Jesus is enough.
The lifted are those God raises up by grace. To be lifted by God is not the same thing as being elevated by the world. The lifted are not those who boast in strength, status, or success but those who have been brought low enough to receive mercy. They are forgiven, reconciled, redeemed – and they know that this status is a gift from God by grace through faith in Jesus (Titus 3:4-7, Colossians 1:13-14).
If you find yourself here today – resting in Christ, walking in forgiveness, knowing the mercy He has shown you – this passage invites you not to move on from joy but to return to it again and again – to ask the Lord to remind you of what He has done, to renew your wonder in worshiping Him, and to meet you each day with new mercies (Lamentations 3:23, Hebrews 4:16). Joy deepens as we remember what Jesus has done and entrust ourselves to Him daily.
Joy is not something we can manufacture. It’s something we receive. And it grows wherever Jesus is trusted. May the joy of God’s mercy – secured by Christ our King – take root in your heart and rise in praise, just as it did in Mary’s song.
[3] Zechariah questioned how he could be sure God would give him a son citing that he was “an old man” and Elizabeth was “advanced in years” (Luke 1:18). Because he didn’t believe the angel’s word, he was made mute until “the day that these things take place” (Luke 1:20), and his speech returned when John was named, just as God had promised (Luke 1:57-64). Although the text makes no reference to it, Zechariah would have been mute during the entirety of Mary’s visit to their home.
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.
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.
Just Keith Harris 