In this week’s lesson “Where Is God When the Unthinkable Happens?” John Mulligan addressed the heartbreaking flood in Texas that claimed the lives of young girls attending a church camp. A tragedy of this magnitude challenges even the strongest faith. Rather than offering easy answers, the lesson guided listeners through a thoughtful biblical reflection on suffering, divine silence, and trust. Drawing from personal sorrow, historical tragedies, and passages like Psalm 10 and Habakkuk 1, John emphasized that asking "Where is God?" in the midst of pain is not a sign of weak faith—but a deeply human, and even scriptural, response.

Knowing about painful events is difficult, especially in an age of constant, global news coverage. But explaining them is harder still. Scripture never shies away from these questions; it records them honestly, even from prophets and kings. While we are often left without clear answers, the Bible points us to a God who allows these questions and walks with us through the hurt. The cross itself—the place where the Father did not intervene to spare His own Son—reminds us that God is not distant from suffering. He feels it, too. And even without full understanding, believers are invited to hold fast to a God who is compassionate and merciful.

Faith means choosing trust in the absence of clarity. Even when there’s no satisfying explanation, we can lean on God’s character and promises. The story of Job and the words of Romans 8 affirm that God’s care remains even when His reasons are hidden. As one young survivor of the Texas flood expressed hope and compassion amid her trauma, so too are we called to endure with faith and tenderness. In moments of heartbreak, we may not get over the pain, but by God’s grace, we can get through it—believing that one day, we will understand it all by and by.

John Mulligan’s sermon this week, “5 Times to Turn to God,” encouraged us to live deliberately and spiritually aware in every season of life. Drawing from Ephesians 5:15–20, he reminded us that life can shift in an instant—often without warning—so we must make the most of our moments, not just our years. Whether in joy, pain, or routine, every moment carries spiritual weight and invites us to turn to God. With recent tragedies in mind, the message emphasized that our time is fragile and fleeting, which makes our response to each moment all the more significant.

There are five types of moments that call us to turn to God. In happy moments, we’re called to praise—expressing joy not just as a feeling, but as an act of worship. When life is difficult, we seek God first in prayer, remembering that He not only knows our struggles but cares deeply about us and has the power to help. In quiet moments, when life slows down, we are invited to worship through stillness, reflection, and connection with God—modeling the example of Jesus, who carved out early-morning solitude to commune with the Father. In painful moments, we are reminded to trust. Even when God doesn’t immediately remove the hardship, He is near to the brokenhearted and will see us through. And in every moment, we are urged to give thanks—shifting our perspective to what God has already provided, which often calms our anxieties and deepens our peace.

These five invitations—praise, seek, worship, trust, and thank—aren’t mere spiritual checklists, but habits of the heart that help us walk with God in every circumstance. They orient us to His presence and power, whether we’re soaring or struggling. Each moment is a gift to be stewarded—not stolen by fear, distraction, or Satan’s lies. The question we’re left with is this: How will we respond to the moments we’ve been given?

In this week’s lesson, "Little Zacchaeus", Jay Mijares examined Luke 19:1–10 and the remarkable encounter between Jesus and a man considered by many to be beyond redemption. Zacchaeus, a wealthy and corrupt chief tax collector, sought desperately to see Jesus, going so far as to climb a tree to catch a glimpse. In a shocking twist, Jesus calls Zacchaeus by name and invites Himself to his home, sparking criticism from the surrounding crowd. But in response, Zacchaeus displays genuine repentance and faith, promising to give generously to the poor and repay anyone he has wronged.

This encounter reveals the depth of God's grace and the urgency of seeking Jesus. Zacchaeus climbed that tree not for show, but with deep yearning for something more. His desperation reflects the kind of earnest seeking that leads to transformation. Jesus, fully aware of Zacchaeus’s past, calls him by name and extends an invitation to relationship. That same invitation is extended to us, regardless of our status, history, or reputation. God sees the honest seeker and responds—not based on worthiness, but on readiness to receive Him.

The story affirms that true repentance produces visible change. Zacchaeus’s life pivoted from self-serving greed to generous restoration, not because he was coerced, but because his encounter with Jesus changed him from the inside out. This is the heart of the gospel: Jesus came to seek and save the lost. His love isn’t reserved for the religious elite, but for anyone willing to humbly respond to His call. So when Jesus calls your name, how will you respond?

John Mulligan’s sermon, “Faith When God Speaks,” is the fifth lesson in his series “The Foundation of Our Faith.” This message focused on how authentic faith develops when we truly listen to God. Drawing from Romans 10:17—“faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ”—we’re reminded that faith isn't about visions or signs, nor is it built on impulse or emotion. Instead, it grows as we engage with what God has already revealed. Belief in the unseen is not blind; it’s grounded in a God who speaks clearly and credibly.

Genuine faith comes from connecting to God’s communication. As Hebrews 1 explains, God has spoken through prophets and now through His Son—and those words have been confirmed through signs, miracles, and faithful witnesses. The Bible is not a relic; it's God’s living message, calling us to draw near. But like students in a classroom, some come close, ready to listen, while others tune out or avoid the call altogether. Faith grows when we’re willing to lean in, listen closely, and receive God’s voice through His Word.

True faith is also responsive to God's directives. Hebrews 11 presents people who acted even when they didn’t fully understand: Abel gave what pleased God, Noah built an ark before ever seeing rain, Abraham left home not knowing where he was going, and Sarah believed God’s promise despite the odds. Their faith responded not to feelings, but to God's voice. That’s our challenge, too—to obey when God speaks, even if His commands run counter to culture, convenience, or our own desires. This kind of faith is not theoretical—it’s active, courageous, and built on the rock-solid word of a trustworthy God.

In this week’s lesson, “The Tests of Time and Trials,” John Mulligan taught that genuine faith must withstand two powerful forces: the slow passing of time and the pain of personal trials. He began with 1 Peter 1, where believers are urged to cling to a “living hope” and an imperishable inheritance, even as they suffer grief and hardship. These challenges are not pointless—they refine our faith, proving it more valuable than gold. Scripture never promises that following Jesus will shield us from difficulty; instead, it assures us that endurance through suffering is a mark of true faith.

Faith is tested across all stages of life—from the passions and temptations of youth, to the distractions of success and comfort in middle age, to the physical decline and loneliness of later years. Each season presents new threats to our spiritual roots. Jesus’ parable of the sower warns us that shallow, short-lived belief can wither when trials come. True discipleship is not a fleeting feeling but a lifelong commitment—faithfulness that holds steady through changes in circumstances, status, or strength.

Trials also take the form of loss, pain, doubt, and even persecution. Whether facing a devastating diagnosis, a loss of a loved one, or a crisis of belief, believers are reminded that these are the fires through which faith is refined. When we fall, we’re called to get back up. Faith doesn’t mean we’ll never stumble—it means we return to God again and again, trusting that He’s still with us. The promise remains: “Be faithful unto death, and I will give you a crown of life.” Genuine faith keeps going—not because life always makes sense, but because we trust in the One who holds the end of the story.

In this week’s lesson, “The Foundation of Genuine Faith,” John Mulligan invited us to consider what it truly means to believe in the unseen. He emphasized that the most important aspects of our Christian life—our forgiveness, our prayers, the Lord’s Supper, our heavenly home, and even God Himself—are things we do not see, yet we place our trust in them. Drawing from Hebrews 11:6, he reminded us that faith is not optional in our walk with God: it is essential. Without it, we cannot please Him. In a world where even what we see can be manipulated or fabricated, Scripture offers a trustworthy written record. Faith, then, is not blind—it is a response to credible testimony about the God who created us and calls us to Himself.

Genuine faith begins with a desire to believe. We place trust in countless things every day—medications, airplanes, prescriptions—not because we fully understand them, but because we believe they will help us. Faith in God similarly requires an intentional pursuit. Those who seek Him aren’t doing so because they’re pressured or coerced, but because they’re responding to compelling evidence. Even Thomas, often remembered for his doubts, remained among the disciples, putting himself in a position to encounter truth. When Jesus appeared, Thomas didn’t resist—he believed. Faith doesn’t demand we ignore our questions; it invites us to keep searching.

Genuine faith ultimately lands in an embrace of the truth. In Acts 8, the Samaritans were captivated by Simon’s sorcery until Philip came preaching Christ and performing true miracles. The people listened, believed, and were baptized—not because of theatrics, but because they recognized something real. From Cornelius to Sergius Paulus, we see thoughtful individuals who, when confronted with the gospel’s truth, responded with conviction. The journey of faith is not always instant or easy. But when we continue seeking, the evidence will lead us to Jesus—and the life found in His name.

In this week's lesson, “A Great God Loves Greatly With a Great Love,” Michael Rankins reflects on Psalm 145 to explore how we understand our relationship with God.

One of the most profound challenges we face—both as human beings and as followers of Christ—is how we understand our relationship with God. Ecclesiastes 12:13 gives a clear and sober reminder that we are to “fear God and keep his commandments,” but that’s not the entire story. Psalm 145 adds a deeper layer, revealing the heart of God not just as a righteous Creator, but as a loving Father. In this psalm, David praises God for His goodness, faithfulness, and compassion, anchoring our understanding of God's relationship with us not just in duty, but in deep and enduring love.

This psalm declares that God is good, gracious, and compassionate—slow to anger and rich in love. He is faithful to His promises, righteous in all His ways, and near to those who call on Him in truth. These are not abstract theological ideas; they define how God interacts with us every day. He lifts up those who are bowed down, fulfills the desires of those who fear Him, and watches over those who love Him. His blessings may not always come in the form we expect, but they always reflect His perfect wisdom and unchanging goodness. Even in our lowest moments, He is not far from us—He is ready to help, to restore, and to lead us forward.

In return, we’re called to live as people who truly appreciate and respond to God’s great love. That means speaking of His goodness, sharing His love with others, and walking in faithful obedience. If God’s nature is to love greatly, then our response should be to love Him in return—with trust, with truth, and with a desire to glorify Him in the world. This week, let’s ask ourselves: Do our lives reflect the love of a God who has never stopped loving us?

Jay Mijares’ lesson on Sunday was “A Conversation With a Donkey,” from Numbers 22. The story centers on Balaam, a pagan sorcerer known for his spiritual insight—yet one who deliberately disobeyed God for personal gain. Though God told him not to go to Moab to curse Israel, Balaam eventually gave in to the promise of riches. On his journey, God sent an angel to oppose him, but Balaam couldn’t see it—his donkey could. Three times the donkey saved Balaam’s life, and three times it was beaten for it. Spiritually blind and prideful, Balaam was unaware that God was trying to stop him for his own good.

This scene offers vivid spiritual lessons. Sometimes we try to force our plans forward, even when God is clearly putting up roadblocks. Instead of pausing and seeking God’s will, we blame others, grow angry, or justify our actions. Balaam’s pride made him deaf to God's voice and blind to divine warnings. In contrast, the donkey—considered a dumb animal—saw the truth and acted faithfully. God can and does use anything, even unexpected messengers, to get our attention. When we find ourselves frustrated, it’s worth asking if God is trying to protect us from something we can’t yet see.

Even after God opened Balaam’s eyes, his confession was partial. He admitted he had sinned but didn’t fully repent. Sometimes God allows us to continue down a path—not because it’s right, but to test where our hearts truly stand. A verbal confession without surrender is not repentance. Balaam’s life stands as a warning: when God reveals His will, we must not offer excuses or half-measures. He calls us to full obedience. If He’s frustrating our plans, it may be an act of mercy, not punishment—an invitation to trust Him instead of ourselves.

When God confronts you with His will, are you willing to let go of your own?

In “The Foundation of Our Faith” John Mulligan highlighted that every theme Christians sing about—resurrection, exaltation, Christ’s return—rests on convictions none of us witnessed firsthand. Because “without faith it is impossible to please God” (Heb 11:6), believers must know why they believe, not merely adopt family habits or warm feelings about Jesus. Biblical faith is reasonable, built on solid testimony, and worthy of lifelong allegiance.

Genuine faith is never blind wish-thinking; it stands on historical evidence that meets the tests of sound “social science.” Luke’s prologue (Lk 1:1-4) presents a physician-historian gathering eyewitness accounts so readers “may know the certainty” of what happened. John records Thomas’ demand to see and touch resurrected wounds, then blesses those who trust credible testimony without seeing (Jn 20:24-29). Peter reminds believers he did not follow “cleverly devised stories” but was on the mountain when the Father’s voice identified Jesus (2 Pt 1:16-18). Together, the Gospels and epistles invite honest investigation—cross-examining claims, weighing eyewitnesses, and concluding that the risen Christ best explains an empty tomb and transformed witnesses.

That evidence calls for a personal response—one that moves beyond inherited religion to a sincere, all-in commitment God will accept. Like Timothy, whose “sincere faith” became his own (2 Tim 1:5), each listener must decide whether to trust Christ’s verifiable story, shape life choices around it, and keep growing in a faith that can answer hard questions. Mulligan urged the church to examine the records, embrace credible conclusions, and live as people convinced the grave was truly conquered—because wishful thinking will never substitute for a faith grounded in fact.

In “The Foundation of Our Faith” John Mulligan highlighted that every theme Christians sing about—resurrection, exaltation, Christ’s return—rests on convictions none of us witnessed firsthand. Because “without faith it is impossible to please God” (Heb 11:6), believers must know why they believe, not merely adopt family habits or warm feelings about Jesus. Biblical faith, he said, is reasonable, built on solid testimony, and worthy of lifelong allegiance.

Genuine faith is never blind wish-thinking; it stands on historical evidence that meets the tests of sound “social science.” Luke’s prologue (Lk 1:1-4) presents a physician-historian gathering eyewitness accounts so readers “may know the certainty” of what happened. John records Thomas’ demand to see and touch resurrected wounds, then blesses those who trust credible testimony without seeing (Jn 20:24-29). Peter reminds believers he did not follow “cleverly devised stories” but was on the mountain when the Father’s voice identified Jesus (2 Pt 1:16-18). Together, the Gospels and epistles invite honest investigation—cross-examining claims, weighing eyewitnesses, and concluding that the risen Christ best explains an empty tomb and transformed witnesses.

That evidence calls for a personal response—one that moves beyond inherited religion to a sincere, all-in commitment God will accept. Like Timothy, whose “sincere faith” became his own (2 Tim 1:5), each listener must decide whether to trust Christ’s verifiable story, shape life choices around it, and keep growing in a faith that can answer hard questions. Mulligan urged the church to examine the records, embrace credible conclusions, and live as people convinced the grave was truly conquered—because wishful thinking will never substitute for a faith grounded in fact.