The Sanctuary Church - Sermon of the Week

Suffering is not original to creation — Genesis begins with goodness, and pain entered the world through sin, not from the hand of God. Drawing on Hebrews 12, John 16:33, Romans 5, and Jesus' own path from the cross to glory, this message reminds us that Christianity doesn't promise escape from suffering but peace in the middle of it, from a God who is both tenacious and tender and who chose to suffer with us, for us, and even by us. As we enter the season of Lent, the invitation is to suffer well — to bring our pain to God through fasting, prayer, repentance, and almsgiving, making space for what He wants to do, and trusting that suffering produces perseverance, character, and hope, and that one day He will make everything new.

Closing out the Teach Us to Pray series with the Lord's Prayer's final line, "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil," Pastor Derek opens up the reality of spiritual warfare for believers. Drawing on Ephesians 6, Daniel 10, and Jesus' own temptation in Matthew 4, he walks through three essentials: know your enemy, know your authority as one seated with Christ, and know how to fight. The encouragement is that the victory has already been won at the cross even as resistance remains real, and we stand firm by wielding the Word, blessing rather than cursing, fighting together, and standing in the opposite spirit, as St. Patrick did, to overcome darkness with light.

Forgiveness rarely begins with a feeling—it begins with willingness and obedience, trusting that God's grace will do in us what we cannot do on our own. Drawing on Corinne ten Boom's famous choice to extend her hand to a former Nazi guard, the disciple Peter stepping out of the boat, and the prayer "forgive us as we forgive others," this message walks through what it means to lay down our anger, confess our own brokenness in honest community, and stop trying to "prune" the people who have hurt us. The invitation is simple and freeing: bring your weariness and your shackles to the cross, pray "God, I can't, but you can," and let Him strike off the chains link by link.

Drawing from the line "Give us today our daily bread," this message explores what it means to depend on God day by day rather than grasping for control. Tracing the prayer back to God's provision of manna in Exodus 16 and Jesus' invitation to "ask, seek, and knock" in Luke 11, it reframes daily bread not as poverty theology but as dependence theology, where prayer reorders our anxious longing for control into trust in a near and attentive Father. The takeaway is an invitation to pray honestly about both the practical and the spiritual, naming our needs to a God who is moved by our prayers and longs to meet us today.

Centered on the line "Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven" from the Lord's Prayer (Matthew 6:10), this message reframes that petition as active intercession rather than passive resignation—standing in the gap and inviting God's reign of justice, mercy, and grace to invade our broken systems and lives. Drawing on the comic series Kingdom Come, Matthew 25's call to care for the least of these, and even Jesus' own "no" in Gethsemane and Paul's thorn in the flesh, it reminds us that power without surrender only multiplies destruction, while the world is saved when the King surrenders Himself. The challenge for this week: replace your knee-jerk reactions with prayer, and choose one person, nation, or burden to faithfully intercede for, praying "not my will, but Your kingdom come."

Whatever captures your attention first tends to capture your allegiance, and Jesus teaches us to begin prayer not with requests but with reorientation: "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name." Drawing on Revelation 4 and the fear of the Lord as wisdom's beginning, Pastor Derek explores how naming God as both intimate Father and holy King reorders our affections and casts out every lesser fear. The invitation is practical: awaken your soul to God's greatness, pray the Psalms aloud, and worship even when you don't feel like it, trusting that, like Paul and Silas singing in their cell (Acts 16), declaring God's reign sets us free not only for ourselves but for others.

Prayer is the most important thing we can do, yet distraction and fear keep us from it — which is exactly why the disciples asked Jesus, "Lord, teach us to pray" (Luke 11). Opening a new series on the Lord's Prayer, this first message lingers on the very first words, "Our Father," making the case that everything in prayer flows from knowing God as a loving Father who delights to give good gifts to His children (Matthew 6; Luke 11:13) — and that receiving that identity reshapes how we see ourselves and one another. The invitation is simple: just start praying, pray your best prayer, and begin every prayer by remembering you are the beloved of God.

Drawing on the story of Hosea and Gomer (Hosea 1-3), guest speaker Frank Sinclair traces how God commanded a faithful prophet to love and ultimately buy back an unfaithful wife from the slave block, a living picture of God's relentless love for a wayward, scattered people. Sinclair weaves in his own testimony of being homeless and far from God at 26 before the gospel found him, reminding us that Hosea's name means salvation and that the price paid for Gomer foreshadows the redemption of Christ. The takeaway is tender and direct: no matter how used up, scarred, or rejected you feel, God has already purchased your heart and is ready to lead you home, so don't begin the new year by saying no to the One calling you back.

Love that comes from God, not from us, stands as a fixed and unchanging source rather than something we define by our own shifting feelings and convenience. Working through Luke 6:32-36 and John 3:16, the message traces four kinds of love—from "scratch my back and I'll scratch yours" all the way to loving the enemy who stabs you in the back—and shows that this highest love is only possible because God didn't merely declare His love but demonstrated it by putting on flesh in Jesus at Christmas. The challenge lands close to home: who is God inviting you to love this way right now, especially the person who has wounded you, and the freedom to do so comes only once we've first received His love ourselves.

Drawing from the genealogy of Jesus in Matthew 1, this Advent reflection on joy reframes Christ's family tree as a resume full of underdogs, outsiders, and moral failures, proving that the Messiah came not for the perfect but for the broken. By tracing the hidden "six sevens" pattern in the genealogy that marks Jesus as the ultimate Jubilee of Leviticus 25, the message reveals that real joy is not something we manufacture through effort or striving but a gift we receive when we rest in him. The invitation: stop earning, anchor your joy in Jesus's presence rather than your circumstances, and trust that if there was room in his lineage for scandal and shame, there is room for you.