We were created for fellowship with a God whose presence we cannot endure. How can we — who are unholy because of sin — enter into the presence of a holy God? We’ll need a Mediator, who can represent God to us, and us to God; a Mediator who can make us fit for his presence.

Israel’s battle with Amalek shows that the Christian life is a real fight, where our enemy targets us in our weakness and isolation. But this passage also reveals the heart of God—He opposes those who prey on the weak and has decisively confronted our enemy in Christ. Like Israel, we must fight, but never in our own strength; our victory comes through prayerful dependence on the Lord. And our hope is this: Jesus, our risen High Priest, is even now interceding for us, ensuring that our faith will not fail.

Ephesians 2 shows that apart from Christ we are spiritually dead—enslaved to sin and separated from God—but in his great mercy, God has made us alive together with Christ. Through union with the risen Jesus, his death becomes our death and his life becomes our life, restoring us to God and securing an eternal future of his love. This salvation is entirely by grace: not something we earn but a gift we receive by faith. Because we are now alive in Christ, we don’t live for love anymore—we live from love, walking in the new life God has given us.

Because Jesus Christ has risen from the dead, Christian hope is not wishful thinking but a present, powerful reality grounded in truth; like firstfruits guaranteeing the harvest, the resurrection assures us that what God has begun he will complete. This makes our hope reasonable (rooted in eyewitness history), powerful (freeing us from sin and giving us real ability to change through the risen Christ), and purposeful (ensuring that our labor, even in small and costly acts of faithfulness, is not in vain). In a world marked by brokenness and despair, the resurrection anchors our lives in a future that is already breaking into the present—giving us strength to repent, endure, and live with meaning, because Jesus is alive now and his victory over sin and death is certain.

Holy Week begins with Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, while being hailed by many as the King, the son of David. The questions would should be asking ourselves are: What kind of King is he? And what kind of welcome have we given him? In this week’s sermon, we’ll see that Jesus is meek, and Jesus is not just able to save — but he wants to. King Jesus delights in saving you. That’s a king we can sing “Hosanna!” to.

In Exodus 17, Israel’s thirst reveals sinful unbelief as they put the Lord to the test, questioning whether he is truly among them. Yet God responds with compassion, providing water from the rock and pointing forward to Christ—the true Rock who was struck so that we might be satisfied and know for certain that God is with us.

God led his people into the wilderness to test them, with the kind of test that reveals what is in their hearts. What was revealed was grumbling, yet God provided for their needs out of his grace. Through his testing and provision, God was teaching his people to trust him. Jesus Christ went through the wilderness test, too; and what was revealed was not grumbling, but perfect trust. Jesus is the better Israel, the better Moses, the God of provision, and the Bread from Heaven. We can learn to trust God in our “wilderness wanderings” by looking to the cross, where God proved his love and trustworthiness and gave us Christ. And Christ is all we need.

In Exodus 15:22–27, Israel’s quick turn from praise to grumbling in the wilderness reveals the deeper danger of the Christian life: not external enemies, but the sinful tendency of the heart to doubt God’s goodness when trials come. Their bitter waters at Marah expose both the reality of suffering and the temptation to respond with grumbling rather than lament. Yet God provides a remedy when he shows Moses a tree that turns the bitter water sweet, pointing forward to the greater “tree” of the cross, where Christ entered our bitterness, bore our curse, and turned the waters of death and sorrow into sweetness for his people.

The song of Exodus 15 is the first congregational song in all of Scripture — and they had good reason to sing, having just beheld their salvation! We, as Christians, have the best possible reason to sing praise to God and the firmest hope. Singing together is a Christian privilege, as we follow our Worship Leader (Jesus) in joining heaven’s song.

From Israel’s desperate moment at the Red Sea, this sermon highlights that salvation is entirely God’s work from start to finish: he takes the initiative, he fights the battle, and he brings his people through from death to life. The crossing is portrayed as a new-creation event—dark waters divided, dry land appearing—showing that just as God created the world without help, so he saves sinners by sheer grace. Israel contributed nothing but need; they were told to be still and see the Lord’s salvation. Yet grace does not eliminate response: salvation is by grace alone, through faith alone. Faith is not vague sentiment but active trust—stepping into the path God opens, abandoning all self-made “rafts,” repenting daily, and living in light of Christ’s promises. Because God fights first and wins, believers can stop trying to earn rescue and instead follow Jesus confidently, even when obedience feels like death, trusting him for resurrection life on the other side.