Jesus and Miracles — Are Jesus' miracles fact or fiction, and what do they prove about who He is? Drawing from Luke, John, Acts, and Hebrews, the evidence mounts that miracles were never about spectacle — they were God's way of accrediting His Son.

The word "miracle" often gets used too loosely, from product names and songs to any surprising escape from danger or positive answer to prayer. Biblically, a miracle is a willful act of God, explainable only by His existence and power. It is perceivable by believers and unbelievers, interrupts the ordinary course of nature, and is given for validation — not for show, but to confirm that Jesus is the Son of God.

Scripture presents Jesus' miracles as evidence. Luke writes from eyewitness accounts so Theophilus may know the certainty of what he was taught (Luke 1:1–4). John records signs so that readers may believe Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God (John 20:30–31). Jesus gave many convincing proofs after His resurrection (Acts 1:3), Peter declares that God accredited Him through miracles, wonders, and signs (Acts 2:22), and the writer of Hebrews confirms that God testified to salvation by signs, wonders, and various miracles (Hebrews 2:3–4).

The Gospels record roughly 35 to 37 miracles: bodily cures, power over nature, exorcisms, and resurrections, including Lazarus after four days in the tomb. Many were public, and each Gospel indicates that even more took place. When John the Baptist questioned from prison whether Jesus was the promised one, Jesus pointed to His works (Matthew 11:2–5): the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, and the dead are raised.

The point is not merely amazement. Jesus' miracles back up His audacious claims, including "No one comes to the Father except through me." They call for belief, repentance, obedience, and a life re-centered around the One who proved Himself to be exactly who He claimed.

“Free Indeed” — John Mulligan traces the freedom Jesus offers from Luke 4 through John 19 to Galatians 5, arguing that the greatest liberation is not political but spiritual: freedom from sin and death, purchased at the cross, and lived out through the Spirit.

In Luke 4, Jesus begins His public teaching by announcing good news to the poor, freedom for prisoners, sight for the blind, and release for the oppressed. His healings and casting out of demons showed real mercy, but His mission reached deeper than physical affliction. In Luke 5, when a paralyzed man is lowered through a roof, Jesus first says, "Friend, your sins are forgiven." The most urgent captivity is not always visible; it is the bondage of sin and the broken relationship between people and God.

In John 8, Jesus presses the point further: everyone who sins is a slave to sin, but if the Son sets someone free, that person is free indeed. This freedom is a gift that cannot be earned or repaid, but it was not free to Him. John 19 shows the cost: Jesus willingly gave His life, bearing sin on the cross so people could be freed from sin and from the fear of death.

But freedom in Christ carries responsibility. Like a nation needing a constitution after independence, Christians need the rule of Scripture for life as free people. Galatians 5 warns against using freedom to indulge sinful desires and calls believers instead to serve one another humbly in love, walk by the Spirit, and bear the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. True freedom is not doing whatever feels right in the moment; it is leaving the old life behind and living in the beauty of ever-growing freedom in Jesus.

"Can We Trust the New Testament?" — John Mulligan anchors the reliability of the gospel accounts in Luke 1:1-4 and historical tests used for any ancient document.

Christian faith is not meant to rest on wishful thinking. Jesus claimed to forgive sin, judge the world, give eternal life, and be one with the Father. If His life is a fraud, He cannot be the truth.

Luke does not write like someone passing along legend. He says the account was handed down by eyewitnesses, investigated from the beginning, and written in an orderly way so readers may know "the certainty" of what they were taught.

The bibliographical test asks whether copies preserve the originals. No originals remain for most ancient works, but the New Testament has a far stronger manuscript base than other accepted writings from antiquity, with early fragments and vast support.

The internal test asks whether the documents hold together. John appeals to what he saw, Peter says they did not follow cleverly devised fables, and Paul tells Agrippa these things were not done in a corner. The testimony is close to the events and open to challenge.

The external test asks whether outside sources confirm the record. Tacitus, Josephus, Pliny the Younger, and other non-Christian writers preserve independent references to Jesus, His followers, His death, and the beliefs that spread after Him.

The New Testament presents concise, historical accounts of Jesus’s life, teaching, crucifixion, and resurrection. The evidence is not hidden. The question is whether people want the truth enough to examine it and live by it.

"Did Jesus Really Live?" — John Mulligan surveys the historical evidence for Jesus's existence across biblical testimony, non-Christian sources, and the consensus of modern historians.

Christianity stands or falls on the identity of Jesus. If He is not who He claimed to be, Paul said we believe in vain; if He is the Son of God, He is everything. The question deserves attention — not just whether Jesus was divine, but whether He lived at all.

First, the Bible treats Jesus as a real person, never as myth or legend. Luke roots his Gospel in eyewitness testimony and Roman history — naming Caesar Augustus, Tiberius, Pilate, Herod, Annas, and Caiaphas — all verified by archaeology. Over five hundred saw Him after the resurrection.

Second, non-biblical ancient sources confirm His existence. Tacitus, Suetonius, Pliny the Younger, and Josephus — none of them believers — referenced Christ. Tacitus recorded Christ "suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of Pontius Pilate." Josephus called Him "a wise man" and "a doer of wonderful works." Independent attestations align with the Gospel accounts.

Third, the historian consensus is settled. F.F. Bruce wrote the historicity of Christ is "as axiomatic as the historicity of Julius Caesar." John Stuart Mill, no Christian, called the idea that Christ was invented absurd. The Encyclopedia Britannica devoted more space to Jesus than to Aristotle, Alexander, Caesar, or Napoleon.

Jesus lived — that question is closed. The one that remains is His question to Peter: "Who do you say that I am?" The answer changes everything.

In "The Case Study," Dane Franchi reads the Gospels while skipping every word printed in red and asks a question most Bible studies overlook: what did Jesus teach not by what He said, but by how He walked?

Three patterns surface that do not need a sermon to land.

First, Jesus healed before He opened His mouth. Physical restoration came before spiritual instruction — not as a warm-up act but as the message itself. We are not self-sufficient; with God we are. The practical implication is sharp: before speaking, do something for someone they cannot do for themselves. In a society starved of unhurried, non-judgmental attention, listening well is one of the few gifts that genuinely qualifies.

Second, Jesus guarded time alone. Mark 1:35 records Him slipping out before dawn to a solitary place to pray — and this was when everything was going right, not when things were falling apart. He did not announce His departure or ask permission. Solitude was not a symptom of crisis but a rhythm of health. The corollary is double-edged: take that time, and give others theirs without pressing for an explanation. Sometimes the need is simply to be with God, not a sign that something is wrong.

Third, holiness recognizes holiness. Before either was born, John the Baptist leaped in Elizabeth's womb at the sound of Mary's voice — God-bearing meeting Spirit-filled, joy erupting before a word was preached. The torn temple veil was never only about human access to God; it was God relocating His dwelling into human hearts. That means every voice singing next to us carries God's presence. How much joy goes unnoticed simply because we fail to hear it?

Examining the Evidence for Jesus — John Mulligan kicks off the series "The Case for Christ" with a simple question: who else do you ask to reign in your life? Only one person has that place, and it's Jesus Christ — trusted with the driving wheel of a life in a way no friend or spouse could be.

The core of faith is a person unlike any who has ever lived. His claims are unique and audacious: He claimed to forgive sin (the most needed claim, because the terminal condition is not cancer but sin), to be sinless (His enemies chased Him relentlessly and could find nothing), to be judge of the world, to give eternal life, to be the object of our trust, to answer prayer, and to be the way, the truth, and the life — not one who knows the way, but who is the way. And finally, He claimed to be equal with God: "I and My Father are one." Anyone making that claim today would be dismissed, but Jesus made it and remains the most recognized figure in history because He had the power to back it up.

Three challenges follow. First, no one ever offered what He offered — not wealth or health, but living water and eternal life. Second, no one has ever claimed what He claimed — "I am the resurrection and the life." Third, neutrality is not an option. He never said you would be fine either way. The question is not whether to have an opinion about Jesus; it is what to do with Him, and that decision has no middle ground. In the weeks to come, the proof for these claims will be examined. The faith rests on solid rock.

The Final Beatitude — Jay Mijares takes John 20 and the story of Thomas to make a distinction that changes how the passage reads. What Thomas shows is not doubt but unbelief, and the last beatitude Jesus speaks lands on everyone who will come after.

The week after the resurrection, ten disciples saw Jesus and Thomas did not. The nickname Doubting Thomas doesn't fit the man who said "Let us go also, that we may die with him" and who pressed Jesus about where he was going because he wanted to follow. He was pessimistic, courageous, and deeply attached. The other disciples fared no better with the first reports. What Thomas actually says — "Unless I see ... I will never believe" — is not a wavering but a willful conclusion. Doubt questions what it believes; unbelief decides. The word never is the tell. And he goes further: he sets conditions, the kind anyone puts on someone else to test whether they really care.

Maybe Thomas was alone that first night because he had seen the body taken down — the holes, the dried blood, the spear wound — and the trauma of it drove him away. Eight days later he is in the room, and Jesus walks through locked doors, turns to him, and meets conditions Thomas had no right to set. Not scolding but condescending. The Creator meets a broken man on his own terms. Thomas doesn't need to touch; the sight is enough. What comes out of him is My Lord and my God — personal, not theological. The greatest confession in Scripture.

Then the final beatitude: blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe. Not a rebuke. An encouragement for everyone reading John's Gospel. Blessed does not mean happy; it means accepted by God. Three questions close: Are you isolating yourself on the very day you need the gathered church? Doubt is intellectual; unbelief is moral. What is your confession — whole-hearted or something less? Can you leave today saying what Thomas said? Yahweh is a personal God from Genesis to Revelation, and the only response that fits is that one.

Everyone lives by faith. Christians place theirs in God. We are not saved by seeing. We are saved by believing.

"Does Scripture Support Alien Life?" — John Mulligan takes on a question you probably won't hear preached anywhere else. From childhood TV Martians to Star Wars and the Mandalorian, from Roswell's museum and Area 51 to the recently declassified government files and Apollo astronauts describing strange lights, humanity has always wondered whether there's life beyond our own. Behind the fun lies a more serious question for believers: has God revealed anything about life outside this life, and how should we think about it?

The answer comes in three turns. First, Scripture plainly affirms extraterrestrial and supernatural life — though not little green men. God Himself, Father, Son, and Spirit, is not human and not of this planet; and Ephesians 6 and 3 describe rulers, authorities, and spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms arrayed against believers, while Satan roams the earth unseen. This life is already here, often unrecognized: Hebrews 13 warns that some have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it, so no stranger should be discarded. Second, for all our reaching into space, Scripture fixes God's attention squarely on this planet. Hebrews 1 piles up the grandest language in all of Scripture — the Son who made the universe, the radiance of God's glory — only to land it on us; John 3:16 says God so loved the world, not the worlds. Even space exploration, finding planets we can reach but cannot return from, quietly confirms how uniquely Earth was made for life.

Then the surprise of the third point: the real aliens are us. Philippians 3:20 declares our citizenship is in heaven, and 1 Peter calls believers foreigners and exiles, urged to abstain from the sinful desires that war against the soul. This world is not home; nothing here — entertainment, relationships, money, vacations — finally satisfies, because we were made for somewhere else. The challenge is to live like it: not blending in with everyone around us, but living visibly for another world, so that others are drawn toward the God whose endless attention and love rest on this planet, and on you.

In "Making Sure You Stay Saved," John Mulligan opens 2 Peter 1:10–11, read within the fuller picture of 2 Peter 1:1–11, to press a question every believer carries: how do we keep walking with Jesus all the way to the end? Peter's answer begins and ends in the same place — with Jesus — and in between it calls us to "make every effort" to confirm our calling and election. We start with Jesus, we change and grow along the way, and we are meant to end up right where we began.

Think of a class of high school students turned loose at Fisherman's Wharf, free to wander and explore, but told to come back to the very spot where they started. The Christian life works the same way. Salvation starts with Jesus, by grace through faith and not by works. We cannot rescue ourselves, we cannot pay for our past, and we cannot earn what only God can give. But grace does not leave us standing still. After baptism we do not camp out at the baptistry; we step into a life of character development, a life of progress, a life under construction.

That construction is the adding Peter describes — goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, mutual affection, and love. Keep adding these, and "you will never stumble." That promise does not mean you will never commit a sin. It means you will not stumble in the sense of falling away, of turning your back on Jesus and walking off. A believer may sin, confess it, get back up, and keep walking. Peter himself is the proof: he denied the Lord, and yet he got back up, and later it was Peter who preached the first gospel sermon.

So make every effort, and then trust God to take care of the rest. There is no numeric score to reach, no tally of how much goodness or self-control is finally enough. Those who stay the course receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Remember both of those names. He is Lord, not merely a suggester or a counselor, and where He leads, we follow. He is also Savior, faithful to forgive when we confess and get back up. There is nothing in this world worth giving up your soul for. Stay the course, come back to the place you started — with Jesus — and the rich welcome will be yours.

John Mulligan opens 2 Peter 1:5–9 with a serious question: are we growing in Christ, or have we become content simply attending? Peter’s list — goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, mutual affection, and love — is not a set of nice religious sentiments. These qualities are the difference between a faith that is productive and a faith that has become impaired.

Baptism is not the finish line. Being cleansed from sin means being called into a new life, and that new life is meant to grow “in increasing measure.” Church attendance, singing, giving, and years in the pew do not automatically produce character. The question is whether the life of Christ is actually taking shape in us.

Growth is expected in ordinary work; Peter says it is expected in Christ as well. If these qualities are present and increasing, they keep us from being ineffective and unproductive. If they are missing, Peter is blunt: we are nearsighted, blind, and forgetful of the cleansing we received. To stop growing is not a harmless pause — it is spiritual danger.

A person who is not growing does not simply stay in place. 2 Peter 2 warns of those who escape the corruption of the world only to become entangled in it again — like a dog returning to its vomit, or a washed sow returning to the mud. Inactivity becomes the first step backward.

God has plenty of churchgoing somebodies. He is calling for new creations — people who keep becoming more faithful, more self-controlled, more loving, more patient, and more useful in His hands. Be a new creation every day, a blessing to the world around you and to the God who sent His Son to die for you.