This weekend our Global Outreach team welcomes Stephen Jones, one of our ministry partners from London. He is a pastor and counselor, serving West London as a window to the world. In particular, their counseling services open doors to communities that might not otherwise consider the Gospel. On Sunday morning he will present more details about how he and his wife are caring for their community. As many know, counseling is about walking with people through the wilderness of their lives. And often that is precisely how God sends us in his love. Join us as we hear how "God Soothes Us and Sends Us to the Wilderness" (Mark 1:9-13).

As part of our brief Easter mini-series, we are turning to John's account of the resurrection. The women come to the tomb expecting to care for Jesus' corpse. But instead of a lifeless body, they find an empty tomb. Panic ensues. They report back. Peter and John run. The burial clothes remain... untouched. How? They go home with their minds racing. Outside, Mary Magdalene stands weeping. She looks inside. Two strangers ask: "Why are you crying? Whom do you seek?" She turns and sees the gardener. Maybe he knows where the body is. "Mary." Teacher! She clings. But he sends her... with the greatest news ever told. That is why we gather this Sunday (and every Sunday). Let's talk about the news that not even death can stop: "Why are you crying?" (John 20:1-18)

Jesus' arrest has always fascinated me - especially the irony of his power and humility. In a moment of such enormous justice, with so much power available to me, would I have let it happen? I struggle to resist letting customer service hear my mind... how could I keep quiet in a moment like that? Yet this is exactly how Jesus shows us who He is. After our series on David's failed kingship, let's look at the real King - and why it simultaneously scares us and thrills us to be under a king like this. "I Am He" (John 18:1-14).

This Sunday we finish our series on the Life of David, so we'll ponder the big picture: what is David's lasting legacy? David offers to build God a 'house' -- a request which God quickly flips on him. Yet the 'house' God will build for David is a permanent one, a dynasty. Considering all of David's enormous failures we've detailed the last few weeks, this promise invites stark questions. And these are not questions asked in a vacuum, but the same ones we ask in our own lives: with the mess I've made of my life, did his promise fail? Is God still with me? If so, why do I so often feel the opposite? Asking these questions points David (and us!) to his joy. So let's talk about "David's Dynasty" (2 Samuel 7:1-22). 

Game of Thrones. Succession. Yellowstone. Billions. So many hit TV shows depict social elites vying for power, often against their own family, with numerous surprise twists. But it's nothing new. As we continue our series on the Life of David, his children have gotten old enough to enter the drama. Absalom enters the chat, as they say. And if I simply stated the facts that happen next, I'm confident it would trip your email censors. So two thoughts: why are we drawn to shows and stories like this? And how in the world is God at work in them? Frankly, this is not a classroom exercise. When David cries over his son, there's a reason we tend to cry with him. How is God meeting us in their drama and ours? Let's talk about "Absalom! Absalom!" (2 Samuel 13-18). 

This week we come to an admittedly weird passage. David takes a census. It's not entirely clear why that is wrong... but it is. David later realizes his sin and confesses it. Then God gives him a multiple choice of terrifying consequences? Talk about a "pick your poison" moment! But why would God do that? It seems almost sadistic to us. Yet David clearly reads it as a gift of grace. How can events that we normally read as evidence of God's untrustworthiness in our lives lead David to trust God all the more? Let's talk about how David's senseless census reveals "Wrath Wrapped in Mercy" (2 Samuel 24:1-19).

Last Sunday was David and Bathsheba. This Sunday comes the fallout. God pronounces forgiveness, but David's son will die. Is God punishing him - through his child's suffering?! Is that really how God does justice? Tragically, these are the kinds of questions I've heard families ask before. And it has David on the ground. He won't get up. He doesn't get up until after he learns his son is dead. But then... he goes immediately to worship? How is he not simply overcome with anger at God or paralyzed with grief? What hope does David have that we so desperately need? Let's talk about why we so often misunderstand our suffering and what God is doing in the midst of it: "I shall go to him" (2 Sam.12:13-25)

David and Bathsheba. This is the turning point in David's life. All commentators point to this event. Everything he touched before this turned to gold. But the decisions he makes here begin to unravel his life. How could he do this? The negligence. The betrayal. The failed cover up. The murder. This slide began long before he went up on that roof. Is this the 'man after God's own heart'? The most dangerous thing we could say here is "I would never do that!" (Remember: the religious leaders said the same before killing Jesus.) This account does not exist for us to roast David, but rather to ask where Nathan could also say to us: "You are that man!" (2 Sam.11:1-15; 12:1-7a) So what hope is available for murderers and adulterers and self-righteous hypocrites? The same hope we will celebrate at the Lord's Supper this Sunday. 

Ruthlessly eliminate all competition. That's the way of American business, sports, romance, and especially politics. Take the power and money and stuff don't ever give it back. It was very much the same in the ancient world. Enter Mephibosheth... Saul's grandson... Jonathan's son... the last living member of David's rival dynasty. So what does David do about him? Unthinkably, he shows him kindness. He doesn't do this to get Mephibosheth to lower his guard so David can off him. No, he genuinely seeks to show him long-term kindness, even giving him a place at his own table for decades. It's not a show. It's not a flash in the pan. It's an ongoing seat at his table. Why does that sort of kindness create a crisis for us - one of repayment or fear? At a time when our nation is deeply divided over much more than just politics, where do we get a kindness like this, even for our rivals? And how can it begin to heal us? Let's talk about Mephibosheth "At the King's Table" (2 Samuel 9:1-13).

"Random smite function." That's what one of my old students called it whenever God seems to just reach down and off someone in some shocking way in the Scriptures. It's terrifying - and not just for what could happen to us but also for what it seems to imply about who God is. How could we ever approach a God like that? Would you even want to? This week we come to the death of Uzzah, a seemingly well-meaning guy who just reaches out and touches the ark to keep it from falling out of the ox cart. And he's zapped. Dead. Instantly. No wonder skeptics say: 'who would worship a god like that?!' But also note well: who would make up a god like that? If this is the living God, how could that be good news for us? Let's talk about the terrifying and terrific joy of coming into the presence of the living God. "You Can't Touch This" (2 Samuel 6:1-15).