
Christmas can arrive wrapped in lights and joy while grief, loss, and the sense that this world is deeply broken remain close at hand. The Gospel of Mark opens with “the beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ,” echoing creation itself and pressing an Advent question beneath all the decorations: What kind of beginning can Jesus bring to lives that do not feel whole?
You can spend hours in an old adventure game, testing gems in random combinations, unsure whether the puzzle has any answer at all. That sounds familiar because we wonder the same thing about life. Isaiah 40 speaks to people wondering if God has left us with a random jumble of puzzle pieces and assures us there’s something more.
We’ve all charged after something we thought would finally set things right, only to watch it cost us everything we hoped to protect. That’s the dumb-ox pattern God confronts in Isaiah 1 when he asks his people, “Why will you still be struck down? Why will you continue to rebel?”
How much religious activity would it take to make up for the parts of life we still withhold from God? In Isaiah 1, Israel brings a multitude of sacrifices, gathers for solemn assemblies, and makes many prayers—yet God addresses his people as Sodom and Gomorrah and says their worship has become a burden to him.
How can those who have known God’s rescue still chase worldly compromise that looks so much like success? That is the exasperated cry of Isaiah 1:21 as the faithful city becomes a harlot—once full of justice, now only murderers, its silver turned to dross.
We easily draw safe boundaries around God’s grace, welcoming those who seem familiar while overlooking those who feel foreign or difficult. Yet the distant wise men of Matthew 2 and the rejoicing Gentiles of Acts 13 confront those boundaries: Jesus came to reach the world. Who might God be placing beyond our comfort, yet within the reach of his good news?
Clear words can still sail right past us when they aren’t the news we want. In Luke 18, Jesus tells the Twelve exactly what’s about to happen to Him, yet they were just like us: they didn’t want to hear.
Join Pastor Tim at 7 pm (Central) as we wrap up “Growing” by looking at the hope we have as we look towards God’s promises being fulfilled in the future.
We’ve all tried to manage our relationship with God on our own terms—keeping up appearances, going through the motions, assuming good effort is good enough. Isaiah 1:18 cuts through that with a direct invitation: “Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord”—and the question it presses is whether we’ll actually stop and think about what he’s offering.
We are good at recognizing what is wrong—and remarkably bad at fixing it. Isaiah 1 warns that the strong become tinder and their work a spark, exposing every human effort we trust to make life secure and lasting. What hope does Easter offer when the things we build, the solutions we devise, and even our own strength end in ash?