Psalm 130 feels like it was written for Good Friday.

Let us use as a guide leading us in both the posture of Hope and Humility.

"Do you want to live a blessed life?"🙌

Most of us would answer that question without a second thought. A resounding "Yes!"

The real question isn't whether we want a blessed life or not, it's whether we are willing to do what it takes to experience it.

Psalm 128 shows us the road: "Blessed are all those who fear the Lord, who walk in obedience to Him" Listen to hear more! 🎧

“Our feet are standing in your gates, Jerusalem.” We’ve arrived.

The spirit of this Psalm is the relief that comes after a long journey. The moment when tired feet finally reach their destination. You’ve made it.

But the painful reality is that neither we—nor our world—have arrived at our final destination just yet. There is still so much brokenness along the road.

So what are we to do in the meantime?

The psalmist gives us a task. Something to do as we continue the ascent.

Listen to find out what it is.

“I lift my eyes to the mountains. Where does my help come from?”

In other words: Where do you go when life gets hard?

In the ancient world, people often worshipped on the high places. When they looked to the hills, they were looking to the places where others believed help could be found.

We might not climb mountains to find help today, but we still search for it in all kinds of places: money, comfort, control, distraction. Psalm 121 gently redirects our gaze.

This week, we talked about learning to fix our eyes on the One our help truly comes from.

Three times a year, the people of Israel would leave their homes and make the journey up to Jerusalem to worship.

Along the road, they sang the Songs of Ascents—melodies shaped for the climb.

Which means that during Passover, Jesus, his disciples, and the crowds filling the city would have had these songs echoing in their hearts.

As we journey toward Easter, maybe these ancient songs can shape our steps too.

A lot of attention in Matthew 11 goes to the identity of John and Jesus. But here, Jesus shifts his focus to the crowd—and how they’ve responded to the message.
His challenge is simple, direct, and still relevant today: “Stop being childish!”

This Sunday, we stepped back into the Gospel of Matthew, picking up right where we left off—questions and doubts surrounding Jesus’ identity.

After responding to John’s disciples, Jesus turns to the crowd and leaves little room for doubt. Without saying it outright, he makes it clear exactly who he is.

As our Practice Series comes to a close, we turn our attention to one of the great dangers of Christian community: turning inward.

The church was never meant to be a closed circle, but an open table. A place where the broken, the outsider, and the lonely are warmly welcomed.

This week, we wrestle with how to resist the temptation to prioritize comfort over calling, and how to remain a community shaped by Jesus’ outward-facing love.

Is Jesus anti-family?

Some of his words might make it sound that way. But look a little closer, and you’ll see the opposite is true.

Jesus wasn’t tearing family down—he was expanding it. The community he was forming wasn’t meant to be an event or a building, but a family.

Through him, we gain a Father. And we gain brothers and sisters.

There are two parallel phrases about Jesus in the Gospels that belong together: “The Son of Man came to seek and save the lost,” and “The Son of Man came eating and drinking.”

One tells us why Jesus came: to rescue the broken and overlooked. The other tells us how he did it: by sharing meals.

A shared meal does more than fill our bodies. It softens walls, turns strangers into friends, and shows the world what the Kingdom looks like in everyday life.

Community isn’t built in isolation — it’s built around the table.

Watch the video referenced here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLsSy64xILI