My son and I have a tradition that we kind of stole from my daughter. Every Thursday night, we Zoom and watch a movie together. My daughter and I started doing this when she went to college. I think watching Stranger Things, and then The Last of Us, and that has continued for my son and me. We’ve watched the classics: Shawshank Redemption, The Lord of the Rings, Godfather One and Two (there is no third film, no matter what you’ve been told), among others. But now we are moving into some lighter fare. Movies that everyone should know and that are just a lot of fun. So that means, at some point, we’ve got to watch Groundhog Day.

I just love this movie. It’s great. Just a great movie, and to me, it still holds up, after all these years. The image above is one of my favorites because it’s so ridiculous. Never drive angry, you know. Not to spoil a movie that’s over thirty years old, but it is the story of Phil, an arrogant, selfish, narcissistic weatherman forced to relive the same day over and over again. At first, the loop seems like a prison, as he has to keep reliving the same interactions with Needlenose Ned and all the other characters in Punxsutawney. When he realizes that he is going to relive the same day over and over again, he begins to see the power in this, as he uses his knowledge of everyone and everything to his advantage to get what he wants. He realizes that he is infatuated with Rita, his television producer, so he relieves every day in the hopes of winning her over. But each time he fails. After this, he feels hopeless and tries to die over and over again, until he realizes he is stuck in this loop.

Then he does something. He finally, finally, looks beyond himself and sees the homeless man that he ignores each morning as someone of worth who he tries to save. He convinces the young couple to get married. He shows an interest in his coworkers. He learns to play piano. He becomes the most beloved man in the town. And then, when he has finally lost all his ego, pride, and desire for power, he finally gains the one thing he truly desired: Rita’s love. Then, the day flips, and he gets to live his life as a changed man.

It’s just a great movie. It’s smart, funny, and relevant. As we were watching it the other night, it hit me. Groundhog Day is about sanctification. Phil doesn’t find peace and happiness until he finds the only true path to peace and happiness. He died to himself and began to live for others. We do not truly know life until we give our lives away.

In my theological tradition of the United Methodist Church, we focus a lot on sanctification. It is part of our very salvation; we are to grow and be made more like Christ. In a nutshell, we, and every human ever born, are made in the image of God (Genesis 1 and 2). We have on us the mark of the divine. We are of a sacred worth. Then, in Genesis 3, sin enters in, and humanity, as well as all of creation (Romans 8:18-23), is corrupted by it. Everything from Genesis 4 through the end of Revelation is about God’s plan to restore us and all of creation through covenant (or relationships). We are saved (or restored) through a relationship with Jesus. We become a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17) as that image of God is restored. That restoration is called Spiritual Growth by many people, but we Methodists call it sanctification. We are sanctified, made holy, whatever term you want to call it, through grace. Sanctification is as much a part of our Christian walk as justification, or “getting saved.” It is what our entire faith leads to.

That image of God is restored, and we become as God desires us to be. Well then, the question is, what is that? What does God want us to be? I think there are a lot of things in Scripture that can tell us what that is, but I believe the best understanding of sanctification and the Christian life is what Jesus tells us to do in Matthew 22: 36-40:

“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “ ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”

What does satisfaction look like? What does the Christian life lead us to? Love God and Love of Neighbor. On this hang all the Law and Prophets. You want a summary of the Ten Commandments? Love God and Love Neighbor. You want a summary of the Christian life should look like? Love God and Love Neighbor. That’s what our faith calls us to do. That’s what it should all be about. That is the practical application of our doctrine and faith. It must drive us to love God and neighbor with all that we are. That is what it is all about. Love of God and Love of Neighbor.

That’s it, that’s the list.

In Groundhog Day, Phil got there, eventually. He finally came to realize the only way his life had meaning was to love others. To care for others. To seek the betterment of others. To be a blessing to this small town. Then he truly lived and began to love living life, even if it was the same day, over and over again. He truly lived. Because he died to his pride and selfishness and began to live for others.

He began to love. Then he began to live.

Friends, that is the path that Jesus calls us to. To die to self. To stop living for ourselves. Our life is not our own. And if we only live for ourselves, our desires, our wants, I can promise you that we will be miserable. But if you and I, if we can look past ourselves, and look around, we can see something truly beautiful. If we can move from living only for ourselves, but to lay down our lives and live for others, then we will, for the first time maybe ever, TRULY LIVE.

If we live only for ourselves, we are not alive. But when we begin to live for others, we find true life. In our theology, that is called sanctification. We are loving God and loving others. God's grace awakens our souls, and we begin to see His beauty in everyone and love Him and each other with all that we are.

It took Phil reliving the same day, over and over again, before he finally began to live. When he did, he looked past himself to others and so their worth, value, and finally loved, truly loved them. My friends, that’s sanctification. That’s our very faith.

We have the same opportunity today. If we can die to our ego and pride, look at ourselves, look to others, and love them, then we can really live and have a life worth living. We can live that life of sanctification, and that is a life truly worth having. Life is calling today, friends. But it will not come from living for ourselves. It will only come in living for God and for others.

In this Friday reflection on Jude 1–4, Jude’s urgent appeal to contend for the faith is set against a backdrop we’ve seen all week: the problem of wandering teachers. Where Third John commended a church for receiving the right teachers, Jude warns a church that has received the wrong ones — intruders who have twisted grace into a license for anything-goes living and in doing so have denied the lordship of Jesus Christ. Along the way, a brief but helpful explanation of the biblical canon clarifies why missing letters from Jude or Paul, however interesting, wouldn’t simply be added to Scripture — every book that passes the fourfold test of apostolic linkage, correct time frame, correct doctrine, and universal church recognition is already there. The practical word for today is discernment: not every voice calling to you is the voice of the Good Shepherd. The tests are simple — does it glorify Jesus? Does it draw you closer to him? And does the person bearing the message show the fruit of the Spirit? If not, Jude’s word is clear: be careful what you listen to, and contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints.

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Good morning, and happy Friday! Hope you have a great weekend ahead. We’re heading down to Hattiesburg tonight — Sarah has her final concert of the semester with the symphonic winds, and there’s nothing quite like getting to hear your kid play. Looking forward to that. Tomorrow, no big plans — maybe rest, maybe catch a movie. And if you’re looking for a house in the Gluckstadt area, Germantown school zone — well, it’s on the market. I probably shouldn’t be using a devotional to sell real estate, but here we are. Sunday is our baccalaureate service at Saint Matthew’s, where we’ll be honoring our high school and college graduates. Mary Beth, our youth pastor, is preaching, and she’s a wonderful preacher — so come celebrate with us if you can.

Today we’re starting Jude. We’re going to break this one up over a few days — today, Monday, and Tuesday — so we’ll read just verses 1 through 4 this morning.

A quick note about Jude himself: this is Jesus’s brother. We see in the Gospels that Jesus’s brothers didn’t believe he was the Messiah during his ministry — in fact, Jesus himself said “who is my mother, who are my brothers, but those who do the will of God?” But after the resurrection, his brothers became key leaders in the early church. Jude is one of them. And yes, if you’re anything like me, you probably can’t read the word “Jude” without hearing The Beatles. That song has absolutely nothing to do with this letter. But I always think of it anyway.

Let’s read:

“Jude, a servant of Jesus Christ and brother of James, to those who are called, who are beloved in God the Father and kept safe for Jesus Christ: may mercy, peace, and love be yours in abundance. Beloved, while eagerly preparing to write to you about the salvation we share, I find it necessary to write and appeal to you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints. For certain intruders have stolen in among you, people who long ago were designated for this condemnation as ungodly, who pervert the grace of our God into licentiousness and deny our only Master and Lord, Jesus Christ.”

First, notice that Jude says he was going to write a longer letter — something more expansive about the salvation we share — but something more urgent came up. And that raises an interesting point: we don’t have every letter written in the early church. Paul himself references letters we no longer have. Jude almost certainly wrote other things. If one of those missing letters turned up in a cave in Israel tomorrow, it would be fascinating and we’d learn from it — the same way the Dead Sea Scrolls are valuable. But it wouldn’t be added to Scripture.

Why not? Because every book of Scripture passes four tests: Apostolic linkage — it’s either written by an apostle or closely tied to one. Correct time frame — written within the apostolic era, roughly the first century. Correct doctrine — it teaches accurately about who Jesus is. And Catholic recognition — meaning universal, not denominational — it was broadly recognized as authoritative across the early church. Any letter that meets all four of those criteria is already in the Bible. Any letter that isn’t in the Bible failed at least one of those tests, which is why it isn’t there. The canon wasn’t arbitrary; it was the result of the early church broadly and consistently recognizing what was truly authoritative.

Now — Jude’s urgent concern. Notice the contrast between Third John and Jude. In Third John, John commended Gaius and the church for welcoming the right teachers — the friends, the apostolically-sent wandering preachers who taught the truth. In Jude, the same basic situation is happening, but with the opposite kind of teachers. Jude calls them intruders who have stolen in among the community. Instead of teaching correct doctrine and calling people to holy living, these teachers are twisting grace into a license for licentiousness — essentially using God’s forgiveness as an excuse to do whatever they want — and in doing so, they are denying the lordship of Jesus Christ.

Which brings us back to something we’ve talked about across these letters: not every voice that calls to you is the voice of the shepherd. Jesus said it plainly in John 10 — the sheep know the shepherd’s voice. Not every voice calling itself Christian is of God. Not every video on YouTube, not every website someone shares with you, not every television preacher, not every social media account with a Bible verse in the bio. Just because something feels right doesn’t mean it is. There’s a great line from a Red Clay Strays song I love: “It’s not a church just ‘cause it feels good; it’s not an angel just ‘cause it’s got wings.” That’s wisdom.

So how do you know? The same test we keep coming back to: does it glorify Jesus Christ? Does it teach us accurately who he is and draw us closer to him? And does the person or voice bearing the message show the fruit of the Spirit? Because the Spirit is always going to produce that fruit — love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. If those things aren’t there, something’s off.

Jude is urging the church to contend for the faith. Not fight about peripheral things, not be combative and suspicious of everyone. But to know the faith deeply enough, and love it dearly enough, to recognize when something is pulling people away from it. This is a call to discernment — to tune carefully, to listen well, and to follow the voices that are genuinely of God.

Have a wonderful weekend! We’ll pick back up Monday with verse 5 in Jude. See you then!

In this Thursday reflection on Third John, the letter’s central cast — faithful Gaius, self-promoting Diotrephes, and well-regarded Demetrius — illuminates a practical question about the early church: how do you know whether to trust a wandering preacher? The answer is apostolic authority and community accountability, which is part of how ordination developed — a traceable chain of trust, so that the community could verify who sent the teacher and what they stood for. Gaius earns John’s highest praise for supporting these traveling ministers even as strangers, and John frames that support with a beautiful phrase: we may become co-workers with the truth. The reflection turns that phrase into a direct word for laypeople today — your encouragement, your prayers, your practical support of the ministers in your life genuinely matter, and Scripture says so. The contrast with Diotrephes, who puts himself first and actively undermines apostolic authority, makes the point even sharper. The call is simple: do good, imitate what is good, encourage someone today — because when you do, you are co-laboring in the truth.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Thursday. Hope your week is going well. Today we’re reading Third John, and tomorrow we’ll start breaking up Jude into a couple of sections. After Jude, I’m thinking we’ll head to the Psalms for a little while — I love the Psalms. Also, just a heads up: we’ll be going strong through May, but I may take some time in June in the midst of the transition to Starkville. We’ll figure it out as we get there.

Today, let’s read Third John in full — it’s short enough:

“The elder to the beloved Gaius, whom I love in truth. Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, just as it is well with your soul. I was overjoyed when some of the friends arrived and testified to your faithfulness to the truth, namely how you walk in the truth. I have no greater joy than this, to hear that my children are walking in the truth.

Beloved, you do faithfully whatever you do for the friends, even though they are strangers to you; they have testified to your love before the church. You will do well to send them on in a manner worthy of God; for they began their journey for the sake of Christ, accepting no support from non-believers. Therefore we ought to support such people, so that we may become co-workers with the truth.

I have written something to the church; but Diotrephes, who likes to put himself first, does not acknowledge our authority. So if I come, I will call attention to what he is doing in spreading false charges against us. And not content with those charges, he refuses to welcome the friends, and even prevents those who want to do so and expels them from the church.

Beloved, do not imitate what is evil but imitate what is good; whoever does good is from God; whoever does evil has not seen God. Everyone has testified favorably about Demetrius, and so has the truth itself. We also testify for him, and you know that our testimony is true.

I have much to write to you, but I would rather not write with pen and ink; instead I hope to see you soon, and we will talk together face to face. Peace to you. The friends send you their greetings. Greet the friends there, each by name.”

Same closing as Second John — I have much to write, but I’d rather say it face to face. There’s something endearing about that. John clearly valued the personal over the written, even when he was doing a lot of writing.

So John is writing to someone named Gaius — a very common name in that culture. There are several people named Gaius mentioned in Paul’s letters and in Acts. It’s possible it’s the same person, but honestly that’s a bit like writing a letter to “Steve” — the name was just that common. What we do know is that this Gaius is deeply beloved by John, someone whose faithfulness to the truth has been reported back to the apostles by traveling friends.

And that gets us to the heart of what’s happening in this letter — the itinerant preachers. We touched on this yesterday with Second John. In the early church, preachers would travel from town to town, carrying the apostolic teaching with them. And a natural question arose: how do you know whether to trust the wandering preacher who just showed up at your door? This is actually part of where the concept of ordination developed. If the preacher could say I was ordained by John, I was sent by the apostles, the community had a way of trusting their teaching. The authority wasn’t self-appointed — it was traceable. You knew who vouched for them, and you knew that person taught the truth.

Here, these “friends” John mentions have been sent with apostolic authority. Gaius has been welcoming and supporting them faithfully, even though they’re strangers to him. And John commends him for it: you do well to send them on in a manner worthy of God. Therefore we ought to support such people, so that we may become co-workers with the truth.

Co-workers with the truth. I love that phrase. And I want to say something directly to the laypeople reading or watching this — because this is for you.

I used to joke with my mom all the time that her one job at Johnson Chapel was to blindly support whatever the preacher wanted. You’ve got a son who’s a preacher, Mom — obviously you support the preacher. She always got a kick out of that. But there’s something real underneath the joke. If you’re a layperson in your church — United Methodist, Baptist, Catholic, Wesleyan, whatever your tradition — you have a role to play in the ministry of your congregation. Your support, your prayers, your encouragement — these things make you a co-worker in the truth alongside the ministers in your life.

I will tell you honestly: one of the most valuable things I ever receive is encouragement from my people. I have a whole drawer over on my other desk full of letters and notes I’ve been given here at Saint Matthew’s and in other churches over the years — just kindness, support, people saying I’m praying for you, you matter, keep going. That stuff genuinely carries me. It really does. Don’t ever doubt that what you do matters, because we see it right here in Scripture — Gaius’s faithfulness and generosity got all the way back to John. Word traveled. It mattered.

Diotrephes, by contrast, is the cautionary tale. He likes to put himself first, refuses to acknowledge apostolic authority, spreads false charges, refuses to welcome the friends, and even expels people from the church who try to show hospitality. He is the picture of someone using their position for themselves rather than for the truth.

And then there’s Demetrius — someone everyone has spoken well of, someone the truth itself testifies to. Whoever does good is from God; whoever does evil has not seen God. Simple as that.

So here’s the practical word for today: take a few minutes and send someone an encouraging message. Your pastor, your Sunday school teacher, a mentor, a friend who has poured into your life. We so rarely take the time to actually say I see you, I’m grateful for you, I’m praying for you. When you do that, you’re becoming a co-worker in the truth — and that is no small thing.

Tomorrow we start Jude. Have a great day!

In this Wednesday reflection on Second John, the short letter is read in full and unpacked around its central warning: many deceivers have gone out into the world who do not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh. John’s call to love one another is clarified — love here is not emotion but obedience, commitment, and self-sacrifice — and his instruction not to welcome false teachers into the house is about guarding sound doctrine, not refusing hospitality to strangers. The heresy John is combating is Gnosticism, the earliest major challenge the church faced, which taught that the physical body was corrupt and irredeemable, and therefore that Jesus didn’t really come in the flesh, die, or rise bodily. The reflection pushes back firmly: the post-resurrection accounts are full of physicality — touching wounds, eating meals, walking roads — because Jesus was fully human and fully divine, and both matter. Wrong theology about the body also produces wrong living, since Gnosticism’s logical conclusion was that it doesn’t matter how you live. And in a modern application, social media has made functional Gnostics of many of us — we forget that the person on the other side of the screen is a real human being made in the image of God, with a body and a soul. People matter. Physicality matters. Jesus came in the flesh, and so do we.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Wednesday. Tonight is our last regular Wednesday Night Live of the semester here at Saint Matthew’s — I love our Bible study, and I love chasing rabbits. Holly always gets a laugh out of me when I tell people that. Her line is she’s been listening to me chase rabbits for 25 years and just wishes I’d finally catch one. Next Wednesday is our children’s musical, and the kids and volunteers have been working hard — good things happening here. We’d love for you to be part of it.

Today we’re moving into Second John. It’s only 13 verses, so I’m just going to read the whole thing. You can officially say you read an entire book of the Bible in one sitting today.

“The elder to the elect lady and her children, whom I love in the truth, and not only I but also all who know the truth, because the truth abides in us and will be with us forever: grace, mercy, and peace will be with us from God the Father and from Jesus Christ, the Father’s Son, in truth and love.

I was overjoyed to find some of your children walking in the truth, just as we have been commanded by the Father. But now, dear lady, I ask you — not as though I were writing you a new commandment, but the one we have had from the beginning — let us love one another. And this is love, that we walk according to his commandments; this is the commandment just as you have heard it from the beginning — you must walk in it.

Many deceivers have gone out into the world, those who do not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh; any such person is the deceiver and the antichrist! Be on your guard, so that you do not lose what we have worked for, but may receive a full reward. Everyone who does not abide in the teaching of Christ, but goes beyond it, does not have God; whoever abides in the teaching has both the Father and the Son. Do not receive into the house or welcome anyone who comes to you and does not bring this teaching; for to welcome is to participate in the evil deeds of such a person.

Although I have much to write to you, I would rather not use paper and ink; instead I hope to come to you and talk with you face to face, so that our joy may be complete. The children of your elect sister send you their greetings.”

A couple of things worth noting here.

First, who is the “elect lady”? Some scholars believe John is writing to a specific woman who was a leader in a local church, with her congregation being “her children.” That’s entirely possible — there’s no reason to rule it out. But many scholars read the elect lady and her children as a metaphor for the church itself — the bride of Christ and her people. I tend to land in that camp, reading this as a general letter to the church at large, though there’s genuine debate about it.

The heart of the letter is verse 7: many deceivers have gone out into the world, those who do not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh. Everything else in the letter is really orbiting around that.

John says to love one another and walk in his commandments — and it’s worth pausing on that phrase this is love: that we walk according to his commandments. Love here is not an emotion. It’s not the warm fuzzies. It’s not the romantic poetry version. Love is obedience. Love is self-sacrifice. Love is agape — commitment and action, not feeling.

Then John says something that sounds jarring to modern ears: do not receive into the house or welcome anyone who comes to you and does not bring this teaching. Now, he’s not contradicting the call to hospitality elsewhere in Scripture — Hebrews tells us to welcome strangers and we may be entertaining angels. He’s not talking about hospitality to individuals. He’s talking about welcoming teaching. Don’t let false doctrine into your house. Don’t give a platform to those who are teaching something other than who Jesus Christ truly is. And he says plainly: to welcome that kind of teacher is to participate in their work.

This connects to something important about his context. The earliest heresy the church had to confront was Gnosticism. The Gnostics believed that the flesh — the physical body — was so corrupt and unredeemable that it simply didn’t matter. Only the spirit mattered. And from that belief followed a dangerous conclusion about Jesus: he didn’t really come in the flesh. He didn’t physically die. He wasn’t physically resurrected. It was all spiritual.

And John is saying: that is wrong. Dangerously, fundamentally wrong.

Think about how many times the post-resurrection accounts emphasize the physicality of Jesus. He invites Thomas to touch his wounds. He eats with the disciples. He walks with them on the road to Emmaus. They cling to him. He bodily ascended. The resurrection wasn’t a ghost story — it was a real body, glorified but real. Jesus was fully human. And that matters enormously, because if he wasn’t fully human he couldn’t die for our sins, and if he wasn’t fully God he couldn’t fully atone for them. Fully human, fully divine — both things together, held in perfect tension. That’s the orthodox teaching of the church, and it’s what John is guarding here.

The other problem with Gnosticism — beyond the bad theology — is where it leads in practice. If the body doesn’t matter, then it doesn’t matter how you live. Do whatever you want. And that’s always the thing about heresy: it doesn’t just produce wrong belief, it produces wrong living. The two are always connected.

I’ll add this: I think social media has made a lot of us functional Gnostics without realizing it. We forget that the person on the other side of the keyboard is not just a disembodied opinion — they’re an actual human being, made in the image of God, with a body and a story and a soul. Your body matters. Their body matters. Physicality matters. That’s not a small thing.

So remember: Jesus came in the flesh. He lived as we live, died as we die, and was raised as — through God’s grace — we one day will be raised. Stay centered on who he truly is. And remember that the people around you, online and in person, are real people made in the image of God. They matter. You matter.

Tomorrow we’ll move into Third John. Have a great day!

In this Tuesday reflection that closes out First John, three threads from the final passage come together. The promise that God grants what we ask according to his will is clarified: it’s not that God gives us whatever we want, but that he aligns our desires with his own — so that a heart truly surrendered to him begins to want what he wants. The closing command to keep away from idols gets personal: an idol is anything that fills in the blank after “I believe in God, but...” — whatever we trust more than we trust him. And the theologically rich distinction between mortal and venial sin is unpacked carefully: the key is not conflating the equality of sinfulness (we are all equally fallen and in need of Jesus) with the idea that every individual sin is identical in weight. Scripture doesn’t teach that, and neither does the best of Christian tradition. The Eastern Orthodox framing rings truest — any sin is a mortal sin if it is not repented of. What matters ultimately is the posture of the heart, and the willingness to keep giving the Spirit room to convict, cleanse, and draw us closer to God.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Tuesday as we wrap up First John together. It’s been a good run through this little letter — there’s just so much packed into it. Tomorrow we’ll move into Second John, Thursday Third John, and then Jude. Second and Third John are so short — 13 and 15 verses respectively — that I almost forgot they have different sections to them. Jude is a little longer, and honestly it’s a lot of fun. We’ve still got some good time together in these smaller epistles. But today, let’s finish First John — chapter 5, verses 13 through 21:

“I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life. And this is the boldness we have in him, that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have obtained the requests made of him. If you see a brother or sister committing what is not a mortal sin, you will ask, and God will give life to such a one — to those whose sin is not mortal. There is sin that is mortal; I do not say that you should pray for that. All wrongdoing is sin, but there is sin that is not mortal. We know that those who are born of God do not sin, but the one who was born of God protects them, and the evil one does not touch them. We know that we are God’s children and that the whole world lies under the power of the evil one. And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life. Little children, keep yourselves from idols.”

A few things worth unpacking here.

First — if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. This connects to that verse in Psalms about God giving us the desires of our heart, and I think it’s important to understand what that actually means. It doesn’t mean God is a vending machine who gives us whatever we want. What it means is that God is going to change the desires of our heart. When our will is aligned with God’s will, our heart naturally begins to desire what God’s heart desires — and then of course God grants those desires, because they’re already his. The question isn’t whether God will give me the convertible I’ve always wanted. The question is whether my heart is lined up with his. When it is, everything else follows.

Second — little children, keep yourselves from idols. I love that this is how John ends the letter. An idol isn’t necessarily a golden calf. An idol is anything you put your hope in besides God — anything you trust more than you trust him. I read a book a few years back that put it perfectly: your idol is whatever comes after the phrase “I believe in God, but...” For me, honestly, it’s often money. I grew up in a financially conservative household, and somewhere along the way I internalized that you can never have enough in savings. And so I can find myself trusting my savings account more than I trust God with my future. That’s an idol. Whatever it is for you — security, approval, control, status — if it’s getting more of your trust than God is, that’s an idol. Only God is worthy of our complete trust and worship.

Now — the part of this passage I really want to sit with, because it’s theologically meaty and worth slowing down for. Verses 16 and 17: there is sin that is mortal, and there is sin that is not mortal. Some translations say sin that leads to death. And this raises a question that I think a lot of us have quietly wondered about: are all sins really equal?

Here’s where I want to be careful, because I think we’ve conflated two different things. There is an equality of sinfulness— meaning we are all equally sinful, all equally sons and daughters of Adam and Eve, all equally in need of Jesus. That part is absolutely true. But that is not the same as saying every individual sin is identical in weight and consequence. And Scripture doesn’t actually teach that. The Old Testament legal codes prescribed different sacrifices for different offenses. Jesus said that whoever causes a little one to stumble would be better off with a millstone around their neck at the bottom of the ocean — that’s not the same category as running a stop sign.

Our Catholic and Lutheran brothers and sisters have a long tradition of distinguishing between mortal sins and venial sins — mortal sins being those that put your soul at eternal risk if unrepented of, venial sins being those that pull you from God but don’t carry that ultimate weight. I have some reservations about how specifically that gets categorized, because it can feel a bit arbitrary. But the Eastern Orthodox tradition — the Greek and Russian Orthodox churches — frame it in a way I find really compelling: any sin is a mortal sin if it is not repented of. I love that. It doesn’t rank sins on a chart, but it takes seriously the danger of any unrepented sin left to fester in a heart.

Because here’s the thing — speeding and murder are not the same. Murder takes a sacred life, and Scripture is always adamant that life is precious. But a speeding ticket that flows from a rebellious, unrepentant heart? That rebellious heart, left unchecked, can lead somewhere destructive too. Both sins can pull us from God if we’re not careful. The danger isn’t just in the severity of the act — it’s in the posture of the heart.

And that’s why I don’t want to get in the business of ranking sins. What matters is where your heart is. The Holy Spirit’s job is to convict us, and here’s the interesting thing — the closer we get to God, the more the Spirit shows us. That’s why Paul called himself the chief of sinners. Not because Paul was the worst human being who ever lived, but because the Spirit was convicting him of more and more, showing him deeper and deeper layers of his own unrighteousness. That’s what sanctification looks like.

So let’s give the Spirit room today. Let him search us, convict us, pull us closer. Let him sanctify us and draw us nearer to Jesus — so that we can love God fully and love our neighbor fully.

That’s First John, friends. What a letter. Tomorrow we start Second John. Have a great rest of your day — see you in the morning!

When I was in college, my friends threw a party for me. They were very sweet, and they gave me some presents. They knew I liked to read, so they gave me some books that they knew would mean a lot to me. One was a book of quotes by Robert E. Lee, and the other is pictured above: The History of the Confederacy. These dear friends wanted to give me something that they knew I would like: these tales from the Old South.

Being a child with some real pain in my life, I was always looking for a place to belong. I wanted a people to claim as my own and who would claim me. I found that belonging, or identity, in a lot of ways that I still do: my United Methodist Church, my hometown (Bogue Chitto), and my love of sports. But one of the places I found the greatest identity was in the mythology of the Old South. Those ghosts were always kicking around my soul.

I thrilled to read about Lee and the Shenandoah Campaign. I read about how Vicksburg suffered while Natchez surrendered. I wonder what would have happened if Pickett had pulled it off. I thought about what I understood to be nobility of the Lost Cause and that War of Northern Aggression. I thought about how Reconstruction set the South back in general and Mississippi back specifically. I saw cause, and I saw identity in that history. As a poor boy from the South, I found victory and nobility in their courage. In Stonewall Jackson’s faith. In a Mississippian being the President of the Confederacy. I used to drive in my car listening to the soundtrack of Ken Burns’ Civil War documentary. (Also note, I was a tremendous nerd lol).

I believe I may have even had ancestors who fought for the South. It was who I was, or who I wanted to be.

But, it wasn’t all who I was. We are, as people, inconsistent. We often hold two things together that cannot be so. I had this deep love and reverence for the Confederacy. These histories defined the reading of my early childhood and who I was into college.

At the same time, I was also among some of the first generations of students in Southwest Mississippi to attend fully integrated schools. I started school in the early 80s, and integration was something everyone was getting used to. In some ways, we did well. Not so well in other ways. But I always had African-American friends, classmates, teammates, and teachers, and took great pride in that. When I was named STAR Student, the STAR teacher I chose to honor as the teacher who influenced me the most was African-American. I deeply respected this man and do to this very day.

So, there were two things in opposition, and they were in some ways fighting over what would truly define my life.

Oh, and one more thing. My biological mother, my Mama Sarah, was born in Ecuador. Her father was from there. She was half Ecuadorian, making me a quarter Ecuadorian. That fact of genetic heritage can raise some real conflict within the soul of someone with a previously mentioned love of the Deep South.

In my early twenties, not long after receiving this book, I began my ministry. I began to think more deeply about what I believed. Who was I? What defined me? What did I want to be about? What did I want my ministry to be about? What was going to be the cause I laid down my life for? I found that cause in Jesus’ teachings. I have liked the way that John Wesley laid it out, in what I have heard called the “Alls.”

· All are made in the image of God.

· All are sinful and in need of salvation.

· All can be saved.

· All can be saved to the uttermost.

In other words. God loves everyone. The folks I like, the folks I don’t. The folks who agree with me on theology, on politics, on social issues, on all the stuff, as well as the folks who don’t agree with me on any of it. God loves them so much that He gave Jesus for them. He sincerely, deeply, honestly loves them.

And if He loves them. I have to love them.

Which means I have to value them. Care for them. Listen to them. Hear them. Advocate for them. Be there for them. No matter race, creed, or any human division.

If I have to love people, I have to listen to people.

My love for my African-American friends and hearing their pain regarding past and present racism was more important than any false identity I had or narrative I had internalized. There came a point where I could no longer look my African-American friends in the face and deeply love them while holding onto my nostalgia for the Confederacy. I had to let that go. To fully love them, I had to let that go. I could no longer place any nostalgia or sectional identity above my truest identity, a baptized child and servant of Jesus Christ, called to love everyone, regardless of race, creed, or anything else. And to love, I had to listen. And value. And lay down my life.

Dr. James Merrit, former President of the Southern Baptist Convention, put it quite well in this speech. People matter more than anything.

As Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. famously said:

Your right to swing your fist ends where my nose begins.

I want to value others above myself. I want to make sure that in my freedom to swing my fist, I don’t pop someone in the nose. As a follower of Christ, their nose matters more than my fist. As Paul says in Philippians 2: 2-3:

make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or empty conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interests of others.

So, today, as we think through our identity, what is our primary identity? It took me many years to fully understand that my truest identity is in Jesus, and that my trust identity is in who I am in Jesus, and who you are in Jesus. And I will love you more than I love anything, except for Jesus.

As CS Lewis said in The Weight of Glory:

Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.

To my African-American friends, I am sorry that it took me into my twenties to really listen to your voice. I am sorry that I spent too much time focusing on my need for identity and a false mythology and narrative, rather than on your need for existence and equality. Since I saw this error, I have sought to listen, to learn, and to grow.

I’m not telling you what to think or believe. I’m just telling you what I have learned, and what I wish I had learned earlier. We all live this life as best we can. But I know this: when I draw my last breath, I hope I can say that I did all that I could to love folks, accept folks, and let them know they were loved perfectly by an amazing God, and imperfectly, but as good as possible, by a fallen man like me.

Love each other, y’all, more than anything else.

In this Monday reflection on 1 John 5:6–12, John’s three witnesses — the Spirit, the water, and the blood — are unpacked through the lens of Wesleyan theology to show how each one gives unified testimony to the same truth: eternal life is found in Jesus, and only in Jesus. The Spirit is the agent of prevenient grace, always going before us, calling, convicting, justifying, and sanctifying. The water is baptism — the sign of the new covenant, functioning as circumcision did under the old, marking us as God’s covenant people. And the blood is the atoning work of Christ, by which our sins are washed away and through which we feast at the communion table — the sacraments themselves flowing from the wounded side of Jesus. Together, these three testify to the same thing: God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life. It’s only ever about Jesus.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Monday. Hope you have a wonderful week ahead. Things are a little busy on my end — if you follow me on social media, you may already know that we’re moving at the end of annual conference. I’ll be the new Senior Pastor at First United Methodist Church in Starkville, which means it’ll be time to say goodbye to my beloved Saint Matthew’s, and hello to the next chapter. We’re hoping to list the house this Wednesday — Madison/Gluckstadt area, Germantown school zone, great schools — so if you’re looking, I can hook you up. If you see me covered in paint between now and Wednesday, now you know why.

We’re almost done with First John — tomorrow we’ll finish it out, then we’ll move through Second John, Third John, and Jude. Today we’re in chapter 5, verses 6 through 12:

“This is the one who came by water and blood, Jesus Christ, not with the water only but with the water and the blood. And the Spirit is the one that testifies, for the Spirit is the truth. There are three that testify: the Spirit and the water and the blood, and these three agree. If we receive human testimony, the testimony of God is greater; for this is the testimony of God that he has testified to his Son. Those who believe in the Son of God have the testimony in their hearts. Those who do not believe in God have made him a liar by not believing in the testimony that God has given concerning his Son. And this is the testimony: God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life.”

Once again, John brings us back to the center: it’s all about Jesus. Eternal life doesn’t come through denominational affiliation, theological commitment, or political allegiance. This is the testimony: God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. That’s it. That’s what it’s about.

So what is this testimony — the Spirit, the water, and the blood? Let me unpack each one, because I think this is rich territory, especially for those of us in the Wesleyan tradition.

The Spirit. In our United Methodist, Wesleyan theology, we believe in prevenient grace — the grace that goes before us, always calling, always present, always working in our lives before we even know it. James says every good gift comes from the Father, and I love thinking about it that way: if something good is in your life, that’s God’s grace already at work. The Spirit is the agent of that grace — calling us into salvation, convicting us of sin, leading us to confess Christ as Lord, and then continuing to sanctify us and grow us deeper in our walk with him. If you can confess Jesus Christ as Lord, it is because the Spirit who lives in you has made that possible.

The water. That’s baptism. In our tradition, baptism functions similarly to circumcision in the Old Testament — every covenant God makes has a sign. Noah had the rainbow. Abraham had circumcision — the mark that said these are my covenant people. Moses had the law at Sinai. David had the kingship. And we, as people of the new covenant, have baptism. That’s why we practice infant baptism in the United Methodist Church — because in the same way children were circumcised under the old covenant to mark them as part of the covenant community, we baptize children to show they belong to God’s covenant people. And then, just as that child grew and had to embrace their covenant identity as their own, our children confirm that gift — they claim for themselves what was given to them. Baptism marks us. It makes us Christ’s own.

The blood. I know that language can feel strange to modern ears — I’ve had seminary professors who advised against what the hymnal sometimes jokingly calls the “blood songs.” But I love them. Nothing but the blood of Jesus. There is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from Emmanuel’s veins, and sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains. There’s a medieval painting I think about often — I can’t remember the painter, but it depicts the moment on the cross when the soldier pierced Jesus’s side and blood and water flowed out together. In the painting, angels are catching what flows from Christ’s side: the ones collecting the blood hold a chalice for communion, and the ones collecting the water hold a baptismal font. I love that image because it shows us that the sacraments themselves flow from Jesus — through them, we receive the grace of his life poured out for us. This is my blood, shed for you — do this in remembrance of me. The blood of Jesus takes us straight back to Passover, where the blood of a perfect lamb on the doorframe meant salvation. The blood of Jesus washes us clean. It speaks.

So these three — Spirit, water, blood — give testimony together. And what is their unified testimony? God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. That’s what they all point to. The grace that calls and saves, the baptism that marks and claims, the blood that washes and feeds — all of it testifies to Jesus. All of it leads to Jesus. All of it is about Jesus.

It’s only ever about Jesus, friends. Only Jesus truly saves. Only Jesus truly gives life. Only Jesus can bear the full weight of our souls. That’s the testimony of God, and it’s the only testimony that ultimately matters.

So let’s live fully and joyfully in his name today. Tomorrow we finish First John. See you in the morning!

In this Friday reflection on 1 John 5:1–5, John’s simple declaration — everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God — becomes the starting point for a pastoral word about primary and secondary issues of faith. Doctrinal and denominational differences are real and important; the preacher is a convinced Wesleyan and isn’t pretending otherwise. But historically, the boundaries of orthodox Christianity have always been defined by two things: Jesus Christ and the Trinity. Everything else — baptism, communion, church governance, specific denominational doctrine — falls inside the sandbox, where there is plenty of room for disagreement among genuine brothers and sisters in Christ. Drawing on C.S. Lewis’s concept of “mere Christianity” and the Old Testament story of the shibboleth, the reflection lands here: faith in Jesus Christ is the password, the marker, the foundation. On Christ the solid rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand. It’s all about Jesus — and it’s dangerously easy to let it become about anything else.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Friday. Hope you’ve got a good weekend ahead. We don’t have anything too big going on — mostly working around the house. But Sunday afternoon at 2:00 we’re having a Family Fun Day here at Saint Matthew’s — inflatables, games, food trucks, the whole thing. We’d love to have you join us. And of course, I hope you find yourself in worship Sunday morning as we come together to praise our risen Lord.

Today we’re in First John chapter 5, verses 1 through 5:

“Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God, and everyone who loves the parent loves the child. By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. For the love of God is this: that we obey his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, for whatever is born of God conquers the world. And this is the victory that conquers the world, our faith. Who is it that conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?”

Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God. That’s the marker. That’s the line. And I want to sit with that for a minute, because I think it’s something the church — particularly in the age of social media — really needs to hear.

One of the temptations we face constantly is taking secondary issues of faith and making them primary. What do I mean by that? I’m a United Methodist, a Wesleyan, and I subscribe to Wesleyan doctrine. My Baptist brothers and sisters and I have real disagreements — over baptism, over infant baptism, over who can baptize, over the nature of communion. My Catholic friends and I have disagreements over various things. Honestly, I have disagreements with fellow Wesleyans, even fellow United Methodists. And that’s fine. That’s actually how denominations come about — people who love Jesus and read the same Scripture and still land in different places on specific doctrinal questions.

But here’s what I want to be clear about: as important as those denominational and doctrinal differences are — and I do think they’re important, I wouldn’t be a United Methodist if I didn’t believe our doctrine is pretty great — they are not the foundation of Christianity. They are secondary issues. Important secondary issues, but secondary nonetheless.

C.S. Lewis wrote a book called Mere Christianity, and I love the concept behind it — what are the actual boundaries of orthodoxy? What is it that defines someone as a Christian? Historically, the church has always said it comes down to two things: Jesus Christ and the Trinity. The life, death, resurrection, ascension, and return of Jesus. His full humanity and full divinity. Who he is and what he did. The cross. The empty tomb. And the Trinitarian nature of God. Those have always been the walls of the sandbox, so to speak. Inside those boundaries, there is a lot of room to play. A lot of room for disagreement, for different traditions, for different expressions of the faith. But if you can’t confess who Jesus Christ is — if you can’t affirm the Trinity — then you’ve moved outside the historic boundaries of orthodox Christianity.

And that brings me to one of my favorite obscure Old Testament stories — the shibboleth. The Israelites were at war, and they needed a way to identify enemy spies among them. Their solution? They made people say the word shibboleth. The enemy soldiers, no matter how hard they tried, couldn’t pronounce it right. Their tongues just wouldn’t cooperate. So the word itself became the password — you were in or you were out based on whether you could say it.

Jesus Christ is our shibboleth. Faith in Jesus Christ — believing that he is the Son of God, that he lived and died and rose again, that he is Lord — that is the marker. That is the password. That is what defines orthodox Christianity and what defines who our brothers and sisters are.

And so when John asks, who conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God? — that’s it. That’s the answer. Not adherence to a particular denomination. Not agreement on every point of doctrine. Faith in Jesus. That’s what it’s about.

Wesley put it simply: if your heart has been warmed, give me your hand. If you’ve accepted Jesus, if you know him as Lord, if you’ve placed your life under his authority and you’re walking with him and growing in him — then you’re my brother or sister in Christ. Doesn’t matter what church you belong to.

It’s so easy for us to make it about something other than Jesus. And I’m not saying the other things don’t matter — they do. But on Christ the solid rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand. It’s all about Jesus, friends. It really is.

So today, let that be the defining mark of your life and your faith — not a secondary issue, however important it may be, but Jesus himself. Put your faith in him. Love him with everything you’ve got. And know that that is what truly matters.

Have a great weekend! We’ll pick back up Monday. See you then!

In this Thursday reflection on 1 John 4:7–21, three beloved verses anchor the whole passage. First, John’s pointed challenge — how can you claim to love a God you’ve never seen while hating your neighbor standing right in front of you? — is sharpened by Dorothy Day’s searching line: you only love God as much as you love the person you love the least. Our love for God and love for neighbor aren’t separate categories; they’re proportionally linked. Second, perfect love casts out fear — not because we won’t experience fear, but because we don’t have to be ruled by it. God is not a divine scorekeeper waiting for us to fail; he is for us, and knowing that deeply changes how we move through the world. Third and most foundational: the passage doesn’t just say God loves, but that God is love — a statement not about what God does but about what God fundamentally is. His very nature is love. And if we are being conformed into his image, then we too will love — because that is what God is, and that is what we are becoming.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Thursday as we continue through First John. And as always with this little letter — there are verses in today’s passage that you probably know by heart. Let’s read them together. First John chapter 4, verses 7 through 21:

“Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. And we have seen and do testify that the Father has sent his Son as the Savior of the world. God abides in those who confess that Jesus is the Son of God, and they abide in God. So we have known and believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgment, because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he first loved us. Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also.”

Three verses in this passage are especially dear to me, and I want to work through them — starting at the end and working back to the foundation.

How can you love God who is unseen, yet hate your neighbor who is seen?

John’s logic here is airtight. I have experienced God deeply — in my faith, in my ministry, in my life. But I have not had a transfiguration moment where Jesus appeared in blinding glory. I’ve seen God through people and through the work of the Spirit, but I have not physically seen God. So how could I claim to love a God I cannot see, while hating my brother or sister standing right in front of me?

There’s a line from Dorothy Day — the great Catholic reformer — that has always stayed with me: you only love God as much as you love the person you love the least. That’s a searching word. My love for God is, in many ways, measured by my love for my neighbor. They’re not separate things. They’re proportionally linked. So the question worth sitting with today is: how am I loving the people right in front of me?

Perfect love casts out all fear.

This is huge, and I don’t want to rush past it. So much of our life can be dominated by fear — fear of the future, fear of failure, fear of not measuring up. And I think a lot of that fear, if we’re honest, is rooted in a distorted picture of God. We unconsciously imagine God as a divine scorekeeper in heaven, waiting for us to mess up so he can get us. But that is not who God is. God loves you. God is for you. And if we truly know that — if that settles into the deep places of our hearts — then perfect love casts out fear. Not that we won’t have fears, because of course we will; we’re human. But we don’t have to be ruled by fear. We don’t have to live dictated to by it. Because you are perfectly loved by a perfect God.

God is love.

This is the foundation of everything. And I want to be careful here, because there’s an important distinction. The passage doesn’t just say God loves — though he does, deeply and completely. It says God is love. That’s not a statement about what God does. It’s a statement about what God is. His very nature. His very being.

I think of the old Wesleyan hymn — Come, O Thou Traveler Unknown — a beautiful tune that I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever sung in a church that actually used it, but the final line is this: thy nature and thy name is love. Not God loves. God is love.

Tim Keller used to say that God’s nature has two essential sides — love and holiness — and that both of our great spiritual struggles are tied to losing sight of one or the other. When we forget that God is holy and only see his love, we slide into temptation — it doesn’t matter how I act, God loves me anyway. But when the enemy hides God’s love from us and all we see is his holiness, we slide into accusation — why even try? I’ll never measure up. Temptation forgets holiness. Accusation forgets love. And both can lead us into dark places.

So don’t ever let either slip. God is holy. And God is love. That is the very heart of who he is.

And if we are going to have the image of God restored in us — if we’re going to be Christians, little Christs — then we are going to love. Because that’s what God is. That’s what we’re being conformed into.

So today: love your neighbor, because you can’t claim to love a God you can’t see while neglecting the person standing right in front of you. Don’t be afraid, because perfect love casts out fear and God is not out to get you. And rest in this deep truth — not just that God loves you, but that God is love. He can’t help it. It’s his very nature.

Tomorrow we start chapter 5, and then we’ll be wrapping up First John before moving into Second John. Thanks for being with me today — have a great rest of your day!

In this Wednesday reflection on 1 John 4:1–6, the familiar verse — greater is he who is in you than he who is in the world— anchors a practical and pastoral call to discernment in a noisy world. We serve a mighty God who doesn’t need us to defend him; the gates of hell will not prevail, and nothing will thwart his plan. But that confidence in God’s strength is paired with a real responsibility: test the spirits, because not every voice claiming to speak truth is from God. Three practical tests emerge from the passage — does it confess Jesus as Lord? Does it produce the fruit of the Spirit? And does it create fear? Healthy caution is one thing, but voices that constantly inflame anxiety and dread are not from God — the same God who told Joshua over and over, do not be afraid, for I am with you. The call is simple: be intentional about what you let shape your soul, and build your life around the voices that draw you closer to Jesus.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Wednesday. Hope your week is going well. It’s Bible study night here at Saint Matthew’s — if your community offers Scripture study, small groups, or youth and children’s activities tonight, I hope you’ll take part. We’re getting close to the end of the semester and I always love these last few weeks of wrapping things up together.

Today we’re starting chapter 4 of First John — verses 1 through 6:

“Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God; for many false prophets have gone out into the world. By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God; and every spirit that does not confess Jesus is not from God. And this is the spirit of the antichrist, of which you have heard that it is coming; and now it is already in the world. Little children, you are from God, and have conquered them; for the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world. They are from the world; therefore what they say is from the world, and the world listens to them. We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us, and whoever is not from God does not listen to us. From this we know the spirit of truth and the spirit of error.”

I grew up reading the King James, so what’s permanently lodged in my brain is: greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world. That’s just what lives up there, and I love it. We talked yesterday about how if God is for us, who can be against us — and this is the same current. We are more than conquerors through Jesus Christ. We can have hope and confidence not just because of the goodness of God, but because of the strength of God. We don’t serve a weak God. We serve a mighty God.

There’s a line from a Bono interview — I think it was around the No Line on the Horizon era — where he says, “Stop helping God across the road like a little old lady.” I just love that image. We sometimes act as though God can’t stand on his own two feet, like we have to defend him, prop him up, protect Christianity from whatever the latest threat supposedly is. But Jesus himself said the gates of hell will not triumph against the church. Nothing is going to stop God. Nothing is going to thwart his will and plan. He is the literal creator of all things, seen and unseen. He’s God. We can trust him. Lean not on your own understanding — trust in him, because he’s got this. Come, thou Fount of every blessing — tune my heart to sing thy grace. That’s the posture. Let God be the frequency. Let him be the source and the strength.

Now — the first part of this passage is just as important: do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits. Not every Facebook post is from God. Not every TikTok, not every tweet, not every Instagram reel, not every cable news segment. Not every voice speaking into your life is from God, friends. There is so much noise out there right now — from every direction, from personal interactions to social media to just the general roar of everything — and we need to be thoughtful about what we’re letting in and what we’re allowing to shape us.

So how do we test the spirits? John gives us the first marker: does it confess Jesus Christ as Lord? That’s the baseline. But I’d add two more things I personally look for. Second: does it produce the fruit of the Spirit — in the speaker, in the source, and in me when I consume it? If what I’m reading or watching or listening to is producing love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self-control — that’s a good sign. And third: does it create fear in me?

Now, there’s a difference between healthy caution and fear. Being smart isn’t fearful. Going to the doctor isn’t fearful. Taking reasonable care of yourself and the people you love isn’t fearful. But when a voice is constantly ratcheting up anxiety, stoking dread of others, making the world feel like a place where danger lurks around every corner — that’s a spirit of fear, and that’s not from God.

Think about Joshua chapter 1. Joshua had the most daunting task imaginable — leading the people after Moses. And what did God say to him, over and over in that chapter? Do not be afraid. Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid, for I am with you. The same God who was with Moses is with you. Do not be afraid. And the reason we don’t have to be afraid? Greater is he who is in you than he who is in the world.

So here’s the practical word for today: test what you’re reading, watching, and scrolling. Test what you’re letting speak into your soul. Ask whether it confesses Jesus, whether it’s producing fruit, and whether it’s building courage or manufacturing fear. Then listen to the voices that are drawing you closer to Jesus, pushing you toward obedience, and calling you to love. Build your life around those voices — and you’ll find yourself living in the confidence of the God who is greater than anything the world can throw at you.

Tomorrow we’ll pick up with chapter 4, verse 7. Have a great day!

In this Tuesday reflection on 1 John 3:11–24, the passage’s command to love one another is grounded in the defining act of love itself — Christ laying down his life — and extended outward: love not just in word, but in truth and action, and not just toward fellow believers, but toward neighbors and enemies too, because the whole of Scripture leaves no room for a narrow definition of who deserves our love. The commandment John lands on is beautifully simple: believe in Jesus and love one another. We make faith far more complicated than it needs to be. But the heart of the reflection is verses 19 and 20 — a passage the preacher has carried since early faith: whenever our hearts condemn us, God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. So many of us are weighed down by guilt, regret, and internal condemnation that quietly becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. John’s answer isn’t to minimize the weight of that — it’s to say that God, who knows every single thing about us, loves us still. You don’t have to keep carrying it. You are loved more than you can imagine.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this beautiful Tuesday. Hope your day is off to a good start — coffee in hand, ready to spend some time in God’s word. I’m excited to be with you today because this section of First John has some of my absolute favorite verses in all of Scripture. Let’s read it together — First John chapter 3, verses 11 through 24:

“For this is the message you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another. We must not be like Cain who was from the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own deeds were evil and his brother’s righteous. Do not be astonished, brothers and sisters, that the world hates you. We know that we have passed from death to life because we love one another. Whoever does not love abides in death. All who hate a brother or sister are murderers, and you know that murderers do not have eternal life abiding in them. We know love by this: that he laid down his life for us — and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses to help?

Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. Beloved, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have boldness before God; and we receive from him whatever we ask, because we obey his commandments and do what pleases him. And this is his commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us. All who obey his commandments abide in him, and he abides in them. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit that he has given us.”

Before we dive in, I want to flag something. When John says to love one another here, he’s specifically talking about love within the community of believers. And I want to be clear — that’s not a permission slip to stop there. There are layers and layers of other Scripture that call us to love our neighbors, love our enemies, love the world as God loves the world. Someone once pointed out that Jesus divides the world into two groups — friends and enemies — and we’re to love both. So yes, this passage is about the love Christians have for each other. But there’s no “out” on loving people who don’t share our faith. Cain didn’t love, and whoever does not love abides in death. That’s not a narrow category.

Now — to the part of this passage I really want to sit with.

Verse 18 is where John lands the commandment: believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another. That’s it. We make faith so complicated sometimes, don’t we? We really do. And John just cuts right through all of it. Believe in Jesus. Love each other. If we genuinely focus on those two things, they will consume the vast majority of our time and energy and orient everything else about how we live.

But the verses I love most — the ones I’ve carried with me for decades — are verses 19 through 20: “By this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.”

I don’t know if you’re like me, but when I first became a Christian, I fell completely in love with Scripture. Some of you may remember the old ‘90s NIV Student Bible — I think mine was entirely yellow from highlighting. And this verse is one I’ve meditated on ever since.

Because here’s the thing: our hearts condemn us. A lot. We carry around regret from past sins, guilt over things we’ve struggled with for years, grief over mistakes we made in relationships — with our spouse, our children, our parents. So many of us drag around a weight of internal condemnation. And if we’re not careful, that condemnation becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. We feel unloved and unlovable, so we push people away, and we end up alone — when none of that had to be the case.

But John says: God is greater than our hearts. He knows everything.

God knows everything about you, friends. Your thoughts. Your actions. What you’ve done and what you haven’t done. There is not a single part of your life hidden from him. The Psalmist knew it — where can I flee from your presence? If I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, you are there. Even the darkness is not dark to you. Nowhere. We can’t flee from his presence.

And here’s what that means: God knows everything about you, and he still loves you. He is not out to get you. He is not angry with you. He is not against you. He is for you. And if God is for us, who can be against us? We confess our sins, and he is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. You don’t have to keep holding on to the mistakes of the past.

Now — I’m not saying you can snap your fingers and make the pain disappear. I’m not saying the struggles just vanish. I know it’s not that simple, and I’m not going to pretend it is. But I am saying this: you are loved. You are loved more than you can possibly imagine. Imprint that on your soul. And when your heart condemns you — when you feel like you’ve gone too far or done too much — remember: God is greater than your heart. He knows everything. And he loves you still.

I hope that verse is as much of a blessing to you as it has been to me all these years. Tomorrow we move into chapter 4. Have a great day — see you then!

Every place I’ve served has taught me something. I’ve served in the Delta (Boyle, Linn, and Litton UMCs), East Mississippi (Coy UMC), Northeast Mississippi (Ripley FUMC), the Pine Belt (Asbury UMC), and for the past eleven years, I’ve been in the Metro Jackson area (St. Matthew’s UMC). It was announced this past Sunday that I am being appointed Senior Pastor of Starkville FUMC at this year's Annual Conference. One of the things that I found interesting in every appointment is that there seems to be a “dominant” industry. In the Delta, farming, East Mississippi, timber. In Petal, it's the military. Because of how close Camp Shelby was, at one point, I had seven Lt. Colonels in my church. That’s a lot of officers! But I learned to have such great respect for their sacrifices and those of their families.

I used to joke with my officers that United Methodist preachers are like military officers in that we have a document we are sworn to uphold (the Constitution, the Bible, and the Book of Discipline), we have commanding officers (Generals and Bishops), and we go where we are sent.

That’s a key part of life in the military and in the United Methodist Church. We go where we are sent. The picture above was taken on June 13, 2006. This would have been my daughter’s second birthday, and it was also the night I was ordained and an Elder in Full Connection within the United Methodist Church. It was in that service that I took my vow of Word, Sacrament, and Order. In other words, I promised to preach the word, administer the sacraments, and order the church via our shared life together as found in the Book of Discipline.

In regular language, that means to preach, to baptize, serve communion, and help to organize our life together. Part of “life together” as United Methodists is our connectional nature.

The United Methodist Church is a connectional church. Some have said that the only thing all Methodists share in common is that connection. One would hope that we would share more than just a common polity and organization, but there is no denying that one of the most “Methodist” things that we have is connection. That connection is also our greatest strength.

This connection defines who we are. One thing all of us as United Methodists agree to adhere to is that connection. The connection affects not only the clergy, but all the laity and local churches as well. The very phrase “local church” in itself shows the connectional nature of the United Methodist Church. Each church is a local church, not the “church.” It is a local extension of the greater church, and that means that each local church is connected to that greater church.

This has always been our tradition as Methodists. Within the early days of Methodism, the connection between the local societies was John Wesley himself. He would ride from town to town preaching and organizing. Societies were linked through him. This early linking of the societies through Wesley was the beginning of the connection. Today’s connection has been passed down through the tradition of Wesley, but it also has theological and practical causes and applications.

The theological foundation of this connection is that the Church is one. There is one Lord, Jesus Christ, and one body, the Church. We affirm this through our Creeds and doctrine. Practically, this is seen in what is called the trust clause. Through this, all property of the local church is held in trust by that local church and deeded to the annual conference. This trust clause was originally established by John Wesley. It was done to ensure the Methodist preaching houses were actually Methodist and that the church was holding to established doctrinal standards. It was determined which preachers were to be sent to which houses, and with the houses deeded to Wesley, they had to accept the preacher that he sent, and that ensured that correct Methodist doctrine was being preached.

This trust was originally established to ensure the standards were upheld, and today it ensures that the local church will accept the preacher it is sent and that the Discipline is being followed. While originally established to ensure that Wesley’s standards were upheld, today this deed does much more than that. Today, it shows the connected nature of our church. Each local church, by its very nature, is linked and has to stand as a part of the greater whole.

The Bishop and Cabinet, as Wesley did, seek to match the needs of the local church with the gifts of the pastors within that Conference. Because of this, we preachers must be sent. We find Biblical foundations for this in Acts 13:1-3. There, the church “sent out” Paul and Barbabas for ministry:

Now in the church at Antioch there were prophets and teachers: Barnabas, Simeon who was called Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, Manaen a childhood friend of Herod the ruler, and Saul. While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” Then after fasting and praying they laid their hands on them and sent them off.

We call this “sent-ness” itinerancy. Preachers itinerate, going where they are sent by the bishop. This shows once again the connectional nature of our church. The preachers are not members of a local church; rather, they are members of the annual conference to which they belong, which sends them to local churches within its scope. This is how Wesley did it, this the UMC has done it, and this is how we do it now. It is who we are. It makes me think of the line from The Godfather 2 from Hyman Roth

…and I said to myself, this is the business we’ve chosen.

So, just like my military friends, I go where I am sent. It is the promise I made to God. Our system is not the only one, but it is the one we are part of. It reminds me of a quote from Winston Churchill:

Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.

While it may not be perfect, it is who we are. And each place I have ever been sent has blessed me and taught me something. And I pray, through God’s grace, I have taught them each something and been a blessing. I am better for each church, and I hope each church is better because of me. I have seen God use it, and I know that God will use it again, for me, and for us, and for all our churches, once again.

In this Monday reflection on 1 John 2:29–3:10, a passage full of beloved verses — the Father’s lavish love in calling us his children, the funeral liturgy promise that when he is revealed we will be like him, and the declaration that the Son of God came to destroy the works of the devil — John also presents an apparent tension: if we say we have no sin we deceive ourselves, yet those born of God cannot sin. The resolution isn’t that Christians achieve sinless perfection, but that the children of God are never content in sin — we give the Spirit room to convict us, we confess, we receive forgiveness, and we keep moving forward. The honest pastoral word is that we often struggle with the same sins repeatedly, and that’s frustrating. But God’s grace is not limited by our failures. Using the image of a rope being cut and knotted back together each time we are forgiven, the reflection pictures grace as the very thing that draws us progressively closer to God — so that even in our stumbling, he is pulling us nearer.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

You can read today’s passage here.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Monday. Hope you had a wonderful weekend and are looking forward to a good week.

Today we’re picking up in First John at what is technically the end of chapter 2, rolling into chapter 3 — one of those places where the natural flow of the passage doesn’t quite line up with the chapter break. And that’s a good reminder that chapters and verses are a fairly modern invention — modern meaning medieval. When Scripture was originally written, none of those divisions existed. They were added later to make studying easier. That’s why you sometimes get passages that feel like they belong in a different chapter — like 1 Corinthians 13, which to me has always felt like it should just be part of chapter 12. “And now I will show you a more excellent way” — that’s clearly setting something up, and it flows naturally right into the love chapter. Anyway. Today we’re starting at chapter 2, verse 29, and reading through chapter 3, verse 10:

“If you know that he is righteous, you may be sure that everyone who does right has been born of him. See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure. Everyone who commits sin is guilty of lawlessness; sin is lawlessness. You know that he was revealed to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. No one who abides in him sins; no one who sins has either seen him or known him. Little children, let no one deceive you. Everyone who does what is right is righteous, just as he is righteous. Everyone who commits sin is a child of the devil; for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. The Son of God was revealed for this purpose, to destroy the works of the devil. Those who have been born of God do not sin, because God’s seed abides in them; they cannot sin because they have been born of God. The children of God and the children of the devil are revealed in this way: all who do not do what is right are not from God, nor are those who do not love their brothers and sisters.”

There is a lot in this passage. Let me start with the things that just get me every time.

“See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God — and that is what we are.” There’s a Steven Curtis Chapman song called “Speechless” that I love deeply, and it quotes almost that exact verse — oh, how great is the love the Father has lavished upon us, that we should be called the sons and daughters of God. Every time I read this passage, those lyrics just rise right up. That’s the only appropriate response. Speechless.

And then verse 2: “What we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is.” That passage is part of the United Methodist committal liturgy — the words we say at gravesides. I’ve said those verses hundreds of times over the years of ministry, and they never get old. We are children of God now. What we will fully become hasn’t been shown to us yet. But we know this — when we see him, we will be like him. What a hope.

And verse 8 — “The Son of God was revealed for this purpose: to destroy the works of the devil.” I love that. Jesus came to destroy evil. To dismantle it. To bring forth the Kingdom of God. Evil will not have the last word, because of the work of Jesus.

Now — here’s the tension in this passage that’s worth sitting with. Back in chapter 1, John said if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves. But here in chapter 3 he says those who have been born of God do not sin — they cannot sin, because they have been born of God. So which is it?

This is actually where it fits together, and I think it connects well to what we’ve been talking about all along. John isn’t saying that a child of God will achieve some state of sinless perfection where they never mess up again. He’s talking about the posture of our hearts. Christians should never be content in sin. We should never be comfortable just staying in the places where we know we’ve drifted from God. We give the Spirit room to convict us — and when he does, we confess, we receive forgiveness, and we move forward.

Here’s what’s honest though: we often keep struggling with the same things. That’s frustrating, isn’t it? We take something to the altar, we confess it, we receive forgiveness, we mean it with everything in us — and then we find ourselves struggling with the very same thing again. How many times did Jesus say to forgive? Not seven times — seventy times seven. And if that’s the standard for us forgiving each other, imagine the grace God extends toward us.

See how great is the love the Father has lavished upon us. God’s grace is not limited by your sin. His love has no ceiling.

I’ve heard it described this way: God gives us a little bit of rope, and every time he meets us in our sin and forgives us, he cuts the rope and ties it back together. Cuts it, ties it together. Cuts it, ties it together. And what’s actually happening is that every time sin is confessed and forgiven, the knot brings us a little closer. The rope gets shorter. We are drawn nearer. That’s what grace does — even in our sin, even in our falling and getting back up, God is pulling us closer and closer to himself.

So it’s not about snapping our fingers and becoming perfect. It’s about walking each day through God’s grace, giving the Spirit room to show us where we’ve drifted, and then receiving the forgiveness that was promised back in chapter 1. That’s the rhythm. That’s how it all works together.

You are so loved, friends. I hope you know that today. Have a great day, and I’ll see you tomorrow!

I’ve always liked the concept of a “North Star.” I’ve never been a sailor, and have no intention of ever becoming one. I always say I’m a Methodist, I don’t need all that water, but, to my understanding, Polaris, or the North Star, is one of the most useful tools for navigation. It’s the brightest star in its constellation, and it is situated nearly directly over the North Pole. Because of this, it is an excellent navigational tool. If you need to know where you are, or where you need to be headed, you can always look to the North Star, and it can tell you.

I like that. I like that a lot. I can imagine being lost at sea, tossed by the wind and waves, and not knowing what to do, where to turn, or how to make it. What do you do? You look to the North Star.

It’s crazy out there, y’all. Doesn’t life just seem to be coming at us full steam? It all feels disorienting sometimes. There’s just too much information and data coming at us at all times. I think of the Marvel movie where Tony Stark (Iron Man) met Peter Parker (Spiderman), and he was making fun of the goggles he wore. Peter said that after he became Spiderman, there was too much coming at him, and he needed something to focus with.

Have you ever felt that way? With everything happening locally, in our state, in our nation, in the world, we are just overwhelmed. And all of this comes at us from so many places and directions, social media, TikTok, YouTube, podcasts, and all kinds of media. So often we just feel like we are like that boat, tossed and torn by the waves.

I remember years ago when I was discerning a lot of things about my future, I emailed a dear mentor, and I asked him, what was his North Star. What did he look to when he was lost? What did he look to when he didn’t know which way to go? What did he turn to?

I’ve thought a lot about that conversation as the years passed, and I’ve asked myself that question repeatedly. What is my North Star? What do I turn to? How do I know right from wrong? How do I know where to go? And every time I ask that question of myself, I think of the words of Hebrews 12: 1-2:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

What is my North Star? Jesus.

Well, duh. I’m a Christian. Not only that, but I’m an ordained pastor. The answer to that had better be Jesus. I think for most of us, that would be the answer. But if that’s the answer, it raises another question. What does it mean? What does it mean to say that Jesus is our North Star? That’s the question I struggled with for so long. I’d like to share with you what it means to me, Andy Stoddard, to say that Jesus is my North Star.

First, it means that my identity is found in Jesus alone. Today, this is huge. I’ve written about this recently. My deepest truth is that I am a Child of God and a follower of Jesus Christ. That is my deepest identity. That must come before my politics. It must come before my sports allegiance. It must come before my denominational or theological membership. It must come before everything. It must even come before my identity as a husband, a father, a pastor, a friend. My identity must be found in Jesus before it is found in anything else.

So often we find our deepest identity in something other than Jesus, and these things cannot support the weight of that identity. Politics, spirits, and even family cannot bear the soul’s weight. Only Jesus can do that. I have to be secure in Him before anything else in life makes sense. My deepest truth must be the Lordship of Jesus Christ, before anything.

Second, I will seek to model my life by His ethics. How Jesus lived must be how I live. If Jesus is my North Star, then I must seek to live by the same values He lived by. I think we see those values laid out quite well in the earlier Hebrews passage. He disregarded the shame of the cross, seeing it as joy to be obedient to the will of His Father. He did not seek His own way. He did not seek His own will. He humbled Himself. He served. He loved. He obeyed. Even though He didn’t “have” to. He did. He humbled Himself even to the point of death on the cross. He did this because through His death, He would forever defeat death. He knew that this way of the cross, this way of sacrifice, would be the path that brought freedom.

If Jesus is my North Star, I must be the same. I cannot seek my power, my fame, my influence. I cannot seek what Andy wants. I have to submit the will of Andy to the will of Jesus. That is what it means to live out his ethics. Not power. Not might. None of these things. Humility. Service. Dying to self. Taking up your cross. That is who Jesus is. If He is my North Star, then through His grace, that must be who I am as well.

Last, I seek to follow His commands. The great thing about His ethics is that He has shown them to us. And I believe the Christian life can best be understood by looking at the Sermon on the Mount. There is so much here, but here are just a few things he told us there:

21 “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder,’ and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ 22 But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment, and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council, and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.

38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ 39 But I say to you: Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also, 40 and if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, give your coat as well, 41 and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. 42 Give to the one who asks of you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.

43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be children of your Father in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.

6 But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

12 “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you, for this is the Law and the Prophets.

Y’all. This is hard. But this is the way. If I am going to make Jesus my North Star, then I simply cannot hate my enemies. I must pray for those who curse me. I have to do right by everyone. I have to love EVERYONE. When Jesus tells us to love our enemies, that’s not just words. He means it.

If I say I am going to follow Jesus, then I have to do that. I must. I must.

So, back to where we started, things are hard now. I know. But when I want to give in to anger or hatred, I cannot. If I want to harden my heart, I cannot. If I want to fight, strike, and punch, I cannot.

I have to look to Jesus. I have to. I must. He is my Lord. He is my North Star. As Christians, friends, we have to build our lives around this. We must. If we are going to say Jesus is Lord, we must. This must be what we do.

No matter what culture, or powers, or political systems, or principalities say. It must be about Jesus. He is our North Star.

If you don’t know what to do, look to Jesus. And then pray for the grace, the community, and the support to be obedient. Together, friends, with Jesus as our North Star, I believe through His grace and love, we can win our streets, our neighborhoods, our towns, our states, our nation, and our world for Jesus. May we never exchange the glory of God for human idols or systems.

May Jesus be our North Star.

In this Friday reflection on 1 John 2:18–28, John’s warning about “the antichrist” gets reframed in a way that’s far more practically useful than the endless game of identifying one singular villain — whether that’s Mikhail Gorbachev’s birthmark in the ‘80s or whoever’s being cast in that role today. John’s real concern is the plural: many antichrists, defined simply as anyone who denies the Father and the Son. The more honest question for us is how we ourselves deny Christ — not in our stated beliefs, but in our actions, our words, and the company we keep on social media and beyond. The reflection lands on a pointed diagnostic: look at the voices you allow to speak into your life, and ask what they’re producing in you. If the fruit is anger, contempt, and division, those voices are pulling you away from Jesus regardless of how righteous they sound. John’s closing word is simple: abide in him — and be very careful what you let shape your soul.

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Good morning, and happy Friday! Hope you have a great weekend ahead. We don’t have much planned — just hoping to get a little work done outside if the rain stays away. If you’re looking for a place to worship this Sunday, we’d love to have you at Saint Matthew’s. We’re combining services in the sanctuary, and our District Superintendent Trey Harper will be preaching — it’s always good to have Trey with us.

Today we’re finishing up chapter 2 of First John, reading verses 18 through 28:

“Children, it is the last hour! As you have heard that antichrist is coming, so now many antichrists have come. From this we know that it is the last hour. They went out from us, but they did not belong to us; for if they had belonged to us, they would have remained with us. But by going out they made it plain that none of them belongs to us. But you have been anointed by the Holy One, and all of you have knowledge. I write to you, not because you do not know the truth, but because you know it, and you know that no lie comes from the truth. Who is the liar but the one who denies that Jesus is the Christ? This is the antichrist, the one who denies the Father and the Son. No one who denies the Son has the Father; everyone who confesses the Son has the Father also. Let what you heard from the beginning abide in you. If what you heard from the beginning abides in you, then you will abide in the Son and in the Father. And this is what he has promised us, eternal life. I write these things to you concerning those who would deceive you. As for you, the anointing that you received from him abides in you, and so you do not need anyone to teach you. But as his anointing teaches you about all things, and is true and is not a lie, and just as it has taught you, abide in him. And now, little children, abide in him, so that when he is revealed we may have confidence and not be put to shame before him at his coming.”

So — the Antichrist. I’m not going to go deep into Revelation today. Holly and I taught through Revelation for many, many months in our Sunday school class at Saint Matthew’s, and my standing summary is basically this: it’s going to be hard, people are going to be mean and ugly, and it’s not going to be a lot of fun — but we’re going to be okay. God sees the suffering of his people. God sees their persecution. He will not leave them nor forsake them, and to those who overcome goes the victory. That’s Revelation. You’re welcome.

But what I find really fascinating in today’s passage is what John actually does with the concept of the Antichrist. Because notice — he doesn’t say the Antichrist is here. He says many antichrists have come. Plural.

And I think that’s the more practical word for us today. I’m almost 50, so I remember Mikhail Gorbachev being identified as the Antichrist in the ‘80s — the birthmark on his forehead was supposed to be the mark of the beast. Some of you remember that. Then we had the whole Left Behind era in the ‘90s — book after book, movie after movie, and it was basically a game of pin-the-tail-on-the-Antichrist. And whoever you liked politically, they were not the Antichrist. Whoever you didn’t like? Definitely the Antichrist. That game hasn’t stopped. You can find someone calling just about anyone the Antichrist online today if you look hard enough.

But John redirects us. Don’t fixate on tracking down the one big bad Antichrist — God’s going to handle all of that. What John says to watch for is this: who is the liar but the one who denies that Jesus is the Christ? The antichrist — with a lowercase a, plural — is anyone who denies the Father and the Son. Anyone who denies the work of God, the work of the Spirit, the lordship of Jesus Christ.

And I think the more honest and practical question for us is: how do we deny Christ? Not necessarily in our stated beliefs, but in our actions. In how we speak. In how we treat people. In whether we’re actually being the hands and feet of Jesus in the world.

And then there’s this — who are the voices speaking into your life? This is a real test, friends. The people you follow on social media, the podcasts you listen to, the media you consume — when you finish watching or listening, what are you filled with? Are you filled with love, peace, patience, joy, kindness, gentleness, mercy, self-control? The fruit of the Spirit? Or are you filled with anger? Contempt? Rage?

Because there are voices on all sides — all sides — that are designed to inflame. That push us toward division and contempt for our neighbors, our fellow believers, our fellow citizens. And the question isn’t just whether those voices are politically agreeable to us. The question is: do they push you closer to Jesus? Do they increase your devotion to the gospel? Do they make you want to serve your neighbor, worship more deeply, read your Bible, pray, receive the sacraments, love God with everything you have and love your neighbor as yourself?

Or do they push you away from all of that?

Little children, abide in him, John says, so that when he is revealed we may have confidence and not be put to shame before him at his coming. That’s the word. Abide in him. Be careful what you let into your soul — what you watch, what you absorb, what you allow to shape you. If it’s not pushing you toward Jesus and loving like Jesus, it’s pulling you somewhere you don’t want to go.

Love God. Love neighbor. If we do that, everything else finds its place.

Have a great weekend, friends. We’ll pick back up Monday. See you then!

In this Thursday reflection on 1 John 2:7–17, John’s “old-but-new” commandment turns out to be exactly what we talked about yesterday: love. And love, John argues, is the most reliable marker of whether we’re actually walking in the light — because you can’t claim to be in the light while hating your brother or sister. Actions don’t save us, but they do reveal us, the way fruit reveals what kind of tree you’re dealing with. Drawing on Matthew 25, Tertullian, and the witness of the early church, the reflection makes the case that love for one another — across doctrinal lines, across differences, within the whole household of faith — is the thing that should make the watching world stop and take notice. Then John flips the contrast: don’t love the things of the world — wealth, status, the approval of others, the endless desire for more — because all of it is passing away. What’s eternal is love: love of Jesus, love of neighbor, love that is God’s own perfect love shed in our hearts. That’s the mark. That’s what lasts.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Thursday as we continue through First John. Today we’re reading chapter 2, verses 7 through 17:

“Beloved, I am writing you no new commandment, but an old commandment that you have had from the beginning; the old commandment is the word that you have heard. Yet I am writing you a new commandment that is true in him and in you, because the darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining. Whoever says, ‘I am in the light,’ while hating a brother or sister, is still in the darkness. Whoever loves a brother or sister lives in the light, and in such a person there is no cause for stumbling. But whoever hates another believer is in the darkness, walks in the darkness, and does not know the way to go, because the darkness has brought on blindness.

I am writing to you, little children, because your sins are forgiven on account of his name. I am writing to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I am writing to you, young people, because you have conquered the evil one. I write to you, children, because you know the Father. I write to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young people, because you are strong and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one.

Do not love the world or the things in the world. The love of the Father is not in those who love the world; for all that is in the world — the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the pride in riches — comes not from the Father but from the world. And the world and its desire are passing away, but those who do the will of God live forever.”

So John opens with something a little paradoxical — I’m not writing you a new commandment, but I am writing you a new commandment. What does he mean? He’s reminding them of what they already know. The old commandment, the word they’ve had from the beginning — and then he says it’s also new, because it’s alive and active in the light that is already shining. He’s not introducing something foreign. He’s calling them back to the center.

And the center, as we talked about yesterday, is love. That’s the commandment. And here’s how John tests whether we’re actually living in it.

Remember the light-and-darkness language we’ve been tracking all through First John — and before that, all through the Gospel of John? John brings it forward again here: whoever says “I am in the light” while hating a brother or sister is still in the darkness. That’s a pretty direct diagnostic. And I think it’s one worth sitting with, because we all wonder sometimes — how do I know? How do I actually know that I’m in the light, that I’m really walking with the Lord?

Paul writes in Romans that the Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God. And I do believe that — the witness of the Holy Spirit is real, and when you’re in Scripture, when you’re in worship, when you’re genuinely seeking him, you know. But John gives us another marker here: look at how you love. We’re not saved by our actions — our actions don’t save us — but they do show us something. Fruit shows us what kind of tree we’re dealing with. An apple tree produces apples. A peach tree produces peaches. Children of God should be producing love, joy, peace, patience, kindness. That’s the fruit of the Spirit. And if we say we’re in the light but we hate our brothers and sisters — our fellow believers — John says plainly: we’re walking in the darkness.

Matthew 25 is a passage that never leaves me alone. The sheep and the goats. The goats say Lord, Lord, when did we see you? And Jesus makes it clear — not everyone who says Lord, Lord. How we treat people, especially the least, especially the vulnerable, shows something true about where we actually are.

Tertullian, that great early church father, wrote about how the watching world marveled at Christians: “See how they love one another.” That was the witness. That was what drew people in. Because people are longing to be loved. People are longing to know they have worth and value and that they matter. Everyone who sat with Jesus, everyone who encountered him, felt that. They felt his love. They felt like they mattered. We should make people feel that way — and especially, especially, within the household of faith.

Now, I’m a Methodist. I’m a Wesleyan. I’ve tested my doctrine, I believe it, I stand by it — when I was ordained they asked me if I had examined it and found it biblical, and I had and I do. But my Catholic friends, my Baptist friends, my Pentecostal and Presbyterian friends — we don’t agree on everything. We’re not going to. But we are on the same team. We are brothers and sisters in Christ. And I may not always agree with my brothers and sisters, but I am always going to love them. That’s not optional.

Then John pivots — from love of the brothers and sisters to the contrast: do not love the world or the things of the world.The desire of the flesh. The desire of the eyes. The pride of riches. Wealth. Status. Popularity. The approval of our peers. And I want to say something about that last one — peer pressure doesn’t stop when you turn 21. It really doesn’t. The need for approval, the pull of what others think of us, follows us all the way through life. We scroll for likes. We angle for status. We chase the next thing that we think will finally make us feel like enough.

And John says: all of it is passing away. Your possessions, your wealth, your status — it all fades. What remains? The love of Jesus. The love we have for each other. The love we have for our brothers and sisters, and yes, even for our enemies. That’s what lasts. That’s what’s eternal.

So there’s the word for today: love is the fruit, love is the mark, love is how we know. Let God’s love flow through you — toward your fellow believers, toward the world, toward everyone. And be careful with the desires of this world, because they will consume you if you let them. They fade. Jesus doesn’t.

Tomorrow we’ll finish up chapter 2. Have a great day!

In this Wednesday reflection on 1 John 2:1–6, the phrase “the love of God has reached perfection” becomes a springboard for a pastoral tour through one of Methodism’s most distinctive — and most misunderstood — doctrines: Christian perfection. The passage holds the same honest tension as the previous chapter: we are going to sin, Christ has atoned for it, and we have an advocate. But the deeper question is what perfection actually means. The reflection pushes back against the common assumption that holiness is a legalistic checklist of moral performance — don’t play cards, don’t see movies, don’t listen to secular music — and argues instead that Christian perfection, in the Wesleyan sense, is never about perfect action but about God’s perfect love being restored in us through sanctifying grace. The goal of salvation, as Wesley understood it, is the recovery of the image of God — which enables us to keep the greatest commandment: love God fully and love your neighbor as yourself. That’s what holiness looks like. And it’s why the means of grace — Scripture, prayer, communion, fasting, community — matter so much: they are the channels through which that love grows and changes us.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Wednesday as we continue through First John together. I’m really enjoying this letter — it’s short, but there is just so much good stuff packed into it. And honestly, the few letters we’re going to walk through together after this are the same way.

Today we’re in First John chapter 2, verses 1 through 6:

“My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world. Now by this we may be sure that we know him, if we obey his commandments. Whoever says, ‘I have come to know him,’ but does not obey his commandments, is a liar, and in such a person the truth does not exist; but whoever obeys his word, truly in this person the love of God has reached perfection. By this we may be sure that we are in him: whoever says, ‘I abide in him,’ ought to walk just as he walked.”

Tomorrow we’re going to talk about the new commandment — the one John says those who love Jesus keep — so we’ll unpack what that commandment actually is then. Spoiler alert: it’s love. But today’s passage sets us up beautifully for that conversation, and it also gives us a chance to dig into something I find really fascinating — so consider this Methodist Seminary Day.

First, notice the tension John keeps holding together. He says, I’m writing this so that you may not sin — but then immediately: if anyone does sin, we have an advocate. And remember, just last chapter he said if we say we have no sin, we make him a liar. So there’s this constant, honest motion throughout First John: you’re going to sin, and when you do, Christ has atoned for it, so confess it and receive forgiveness. John doesn’t pretend sin isn’t real, and he doesn’t use grace as an excuse to be casual about it either. Both things are true at once.

But then he says this — and this is the line I want to sit with today: whoever obeys his word, truly in this person the love of God has reached perfection.

That word perfection is a big deal in the Wesleyan tradition. When I was ordained — and I just realized this annual conference will mark twenty years since I was ordained on June 13th, 2006, so that’s something — one of the questions asked of every candidate is: do you believe in Christian perfection, and do you expect to be made perfect in this life? That is a defining doctrine of the Wesleyan movement, tied closely to sanctification and Christian growth.

And I think a lot of people — myself included, when I was younger — misunderstand what that actually means. I grew up somewhere along the way internalizing that holiness was basically a legalistic checklist. Don’t play cards because cards are for gambling. Don’t go to the movies. Don’t listen to secular music. To be holy, in that framework, meant performing a kind of moral perfection — getting it all right, checking all the right boxes, avoiding all the wrong things. Maybe you grew up with some version of that too.

But that is not what Scripture is teaching here. And it’s not what Wesley meant either.

Look at the verse again: truly in this person the love of God has reached perfection. Christian perfection — holiness, sanctification — is never about my perfect action. It’s not about me performing flawlessly or never getting it wrong. That’s not the goal. The goal is God’s perfect love being shed into my heart, and then that love within me allowing me to love God and love others fully. That’s what perfection looks like in our theology.

My seminary professor Dr. Bryan used to put it this way: the salvific goal — the very purpose of our salvation — is the recovery of the image of God. When God’s image is being restored in us through sanctifying grace, it enables us to keep the greatest commandment: love God with everything you are, and love your neighbor as yourself. That is the point. That is what we’re being saved for. Not moral perfection. Perfect love.

There’s a great song by Matt Maher — the chorus goes: holiness is Christ in me. That’s it. That’s exactly it. Holiness isn’t me getting everything right. It’s Christ in me, God’s love growing and changing me from the inside, pushing me toward love of God and love of neighbor.

And that’s why the means of grace matter so much in the Wesleyan tradition — Scripture, prayer, communion, fasting, worship, Christian community. We need these things because they are the channels through which grace flows and does its work in us. As we read God’s word, grace is given. As we pray, as we fast, as we gather — we are being changed. We are being made more perfect, not through our effort, but through grace.

Wesley talked about social holiness — and this is what he meant. We can’t become holy in isolation. You help make me holy, and I help make you holy. We need each other. Love God, love neighbor — you can’t do that alone.

So if you want Methodist doctrine in a nutshell, there it is: holiness is God’s love shed abroad in our hearts, pushing us not toward perfect behavior but toward perfect love. And when we love perfectly — love God fully, love neighbor fully — we are living right at the center of who God made us to be.

Tomorrow we’ll pick up with the rest of chapter 2. Have a great day!

In this Tuesday reflection on 1 John 1:5–10, the light-and-darkness imagery that runs through John’s Gospel flows directly into the letter — God is light, and walking in fellowship with him means being called continually out of the dark. The key distinction John makes is not between sinning and not sinning — we all sin, and to claim otherwise is to make God a liar — but between remaining in darkness and walking in the light, where the blood of Jesus keeps cleansing us as we go. The pastoral heart of the reflection centers on verse 9: if we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Crucially, confession doesn’t trigger God’s forgiveness — God’s forgiveness isn’t transactional or conditional on our performance. Rather, confession is the moment we speak our failure aloud and hear back the words our souls most need: you are still beloved, you are forgiven. There is no greater gift.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Tuesday as we continue through First John together. This first chapter is only ten verses, so today we’re finishing it out — verses 5 through 10. And I’ll just say upfront: this passage contains one of my favorite verses in all of Scripture, and honestly one of the more important ones to know. Let’s read it:

“This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.”

Yesterday I mentioned the similarities between First John and the Gospel of John — and right here is a perfect example. One of the most beautiful things about John’s Gospel is the constant imagery of light and darkness. Throughout it, light and darkness aren’t just poetic — they’re theological. Darkness is synonymous with being lost, with sin, with not yet knowing who Jesus is.

Two of my favorite examples: Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night in John 3. For John, that detail isn’t just about the time of day — it’s saying something about where Nicodemus is spiritually. He’s still in the dark; he doesn’t fully understand who Jesus is yet. But then, at the end of the Gospel, we meet Nicodemus again — this time coming to help bury Jesus. And John notes that he is the one who formerly came to Jesus at night. He’s not coming at night anymore. That’s the growth of Nicodemus, told entirely through the imagery of light and dark. You also see it at the tomb — while it was still dark, they came. Light and darkness run all the way through John’s Gospel, and that same current runs right into this letter.

So: God is light, and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we’re still walking in darkness, we’re lying. But if we walk in the light as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin.

Now here’s where it gets interesting — because then John says: if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves. So which is it? Can we walk with Jesus and still sin? And the answer is yes — because that’s not actually the tension John is setting up. The distinction he’s making is between walking in darkness and remaining in darkness. We’re going to sin. If we say we haven’t, we’re lying, and we’re making God out to be a liar too. All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God — that’s just the human condition. We are imperfect creatures. We mess up. We fall.

The question for John isn’t whether we’re going to sin. The question is: is it a struggle? Because if we’re genuinely walking with Jesus, his light is going to keep calling us out of the dark. We won’t be content to just stay there. And that’s actually a good diagnostic for our spiritual lives — we should never be comfortable with our sin. When our sin stops bothering us, when we stop feeling the pull toward confession and repentance, something’s off. As long as we’re bothered by it, as long as we’re still wrestling with it, that’s a sign the Spirit is alive and working in us.

And here’s the good news — verse 9, my favorite: if we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

That’s why I love the communion liturgy of the United Methodist Church so much. We open with confession — together, out loud, as a community. We have not loved you with our whole heart. We have not heard the cry of the needy. Forgive us, we pray. Free us for joyful obedience. And then I pronounce to the congregation: in the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven. And they pronounce it back to me: in the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven. I’m not forgiving them and they’re not forgiving me — we’re both just announcing to each other what is already true.

Now here’s something I really want you to hear: confession doesn’t trigger God’s forgiveness. God is not sitting in heaven saying, I’ll forgive them, but they have to ask first — and if they don’t ask, I’m just going to dangle it out there. No. That’s not how it works. If we have to do something to make God forgive us, then it’s our actions causing the forgiveness — and that’s not grace anymore. Our walk with God is not transactional. We don’t bargain with him. We don’t say “if I do A, you’ll do B.” He’s God. There’s no leverage there.

We confess our sins not to make God forgive us — but because when we say it out loud, when we come before him and say, God, I have failed you, I have not done as I should, I have fallen short — and then we hear back, you are still my beloved, you are forgiven — there is nothing more beautiful than that. There is nothing the soul needs more than to hear those words when we know we’ve fallen short.

There’s a line from Doctor Who that’s always stuck with me. The Doctor is running off to do something reckless and his companion says, “You just want to be forgiven.” And he turns and says, “Don’t we all?” Yes. That’s exactly right. Don’t we all.

If we say we have no sin, we’re deceiving ourselves. But if we confess — he who is faithful and just will cleanse us from all unrighteousness. You can be forgiven, friends. There is no greater gift than that.

So today, know this: if we confess, he forgives. And when we confess, we get to hear the words our souls most need to hear. You are loved. You are forgiven. Have a great day!

In this Monday reflection opening a new series through First John, the focus falls on the letter’s opening declaration: we tell you what we have seen, heard, and touched — which John frames as the foundation of Christian fellowship and the source of complete joy. Drawing on the Southern tradition of testimony and Revelation 12:11, the reflection makes the case that our testimony is one of the most powerful tools we have — and that testimony isn’t just the story of our conversion, but the ongoing story of what Jesus is doing in our lives right now. The heart of the passage, and of the message, is this: experiencing Jesus is never meant to stop with us. John wrote so that others could join the fellowship, and our joy becomes complete when the people we love come to know Jesus too. The practical challenge is simple — tell your story this week, to your family, your friends, and when you’re feeling brave, to someone who doesn’t know Jesus yet.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Monday as we start a new week together. Last week we looked at different post-Easter accounts — the encounters the apostles and others had with the risen Jesus. This week we’re shifting gears. My pattern has usually been Old Testament, New Testament, Old Testament, New Testament, but honestly nothing from the Old Testament was really jumping off the page for me. I thought about the Psalms — I love the Psalms — but then I just asked myself what I actually wanted to read. And the answer was First John. So that’s what we’re going to do.

We’ll walk through First John together, and after that we’ll probably move into Second and Third John — they’re so short it would almost feel wrong not to. We may even do Jude for the same reason. Then probably First and Second Peter, and then we’ll head back to the Old Testament. That’s the loose plan. For now, though — First John.

Today we’re reading chapter 1, verses 1 through 4:

“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our own eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our own hands, concerning the word of life — this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us — we declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.”

A little context first. First John is generally believed to have been written by John the Apostle — the same John who wrote the Gospel of John. You can feel it immediately; the language, the themes, the light-and-darkness imagery are all very familiar. This is also what’s called a Catholic letter — and Catholic here means universal, not denominational. Paul’s letters were always written to a specific person or place: to the church in Rome, to Timothy, to the church in Corinth. Very personal, very particular. The letters that come after Paul — Hebrews, James, First John and the others — are more universal in scope, not necessarily tied to one specific community. They’re written more broadly to the church at large.

So John opens by saying: we are declaring to you what we have seen, what we have heard, what we have known, what we have touched. In the South we’d call that giving your testimony. And one of my preachers growing up used to always say: you can’t give witness to what you don’t know.

One of my favorite verses — and you’ve heard me say this before — is Revelation 12:11: the enemy is defeated by the blood of the Lamb and the power of their testimony. Our testimony might be the most powerful thing we have. Because you can debate a lot of things, but you can’t really argue with Jesus changed my life. I am a different person post-Jesus than I was pre-Jesus. And not just at conversion — daily. Daily I experience him through Scripture, through prayer, through service, through the church. Daily he is making me better.

And I think that’s an important thing to understand about testimony. Our testimony isn’t only the story of our conversion — as important as that is. Our testimony is also what Jesus is doing in our lives right now. How are we experiencing his power today? How are we different this week because of what he’s doing? That ongoing testimony matters just as much as the conversion story.

John is saying: we’ve seen this, we’ve experienced it, we’ve touched the resurrected Christ with our own hands — and we’re telling you because we want you to join us. We want you to experience this too. That’s the heart of it, isn’t it? It’s not enough to experience Jesus and keep it to yourself. I want you to know him. I want you to experience the goodness, the mercy, the grace of God. I want your life changed by Jesus the way mine has been. And John says: when you join that fellowship, when you come to know Jesus — that is what makes our joy complete.

There’s nothing quite like watching somebody experience Jesus for the first time — or watching someone who’s known him for years fall deeper in love. That’s why I love Communion so much. Every time we gather at the table, we get to experience his love again. Every time we tell the story, we proclaim his death and resurrection until he comes again. What a joy that is.

So here’s the question for today: when’s the last time you told your story? When did you last tell your children — or your grandchildren — about when you met Jesus? When did you last tell your spouse what Jesus is doing in your life right now? One of the things I always encourage people to do in revivals is to take the time to actually tell those stories. And when you’re feeling really brave — tell somebody who doesn’t know Jesus yet. A coworker, a friend, a colleague. Not in a pushy or judgmental way. Just the same way you’d tell them about a great meal you had or a deal you found. Just tell them what Jesus has done for you.

I love to tell the story, for those who know it best seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest. Tell your story, friends. See what it does.

Tomorrow we’ll pick up with verse 5. Have a great day!

In this Friday reflection on Luke 24:1–12, three threads from the resurrection account are woven together into a single pastoral encouragement. The angel’s question — “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” — becomes a call to move beyond a faith that is merely routine or historical and into one that is truly alive and built around Jesus. The moment when the women “remembered his words” becomes a word of grace for anyone who feels behind in their faith journey: growth takes time, the Spirit moves at its own pace, and not understanding something the first time isn’t failure — it’s the normal shape of discipleship. And finally, the fact that it was the women, not the apostles, who first believed and testified is a reminder to stop looking only to those up front and start paying attention to the whole body of Christ — because God has a way of speaking most clearly through the people we least expect.

Join us for our daily reflections with Andy. In 10 short minutes, he’ll dig a little deeper into Scripture and help you better understand God’s Word.

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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Friday. If you’re watching on YouTube or following along on the video Substack, you’ll notice a slightly different background and a different “uniform” today — I’m recording from the house. I intended to get this done earlier this morning, but the day got away from me. You may also hear Rocket, our dog, making a cameo. Just part of the Friday experience.

Today we’re continuing our look at the post-resurrection accounts across the Gospels, and today we’re in Luke 24, verses 1 through 12:

“But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.’ Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.”

There’s a lot happening in this passage. But let’s start with the line that always stops me — verse 5: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

That’s always a good word. I’ve heard revival sermons built around that question, and honestly, it deserves them. So often we can look alive and yet be dead on the inside. So often our faith can become something of rote history or empty routine rather than something deeply alive and active. We talked yesterday about what it means to be a disciple — that being a disciple isn’t just carrying knowledge about Jesus, but building your life around him. His life, his teachings, his way of being in the world — that forms the very foundation. So today the angel asks the question and, in a way, asks it of us too: why are you looking for the living among the dead? May we have a faith that is truly, fully alive.

Then verse 8: they remembered his words.

Here’s something worth sitting with. The first time we hear something, we may not get it. We may not understand it. And that’s okay. Go back and read through the Gospels — look at how many times Jesus pointed to his own death and the disciples just didn’t understand it. It didn’t click. That’s not a failure on their part; that’s the nature of growth.

I think a lot of us are tempted to feel inadequate in our faith. We look at others — their service, their commitment, their apparent depth — and we feel like we’re behind, like we’re never going to get it right. We beat ourselves up for not being the fully formed disciples we think we should be. But verse 8 is a word of grace: then they remembered. They’d heard it before. It just hadn’t clicked yet. And when the time was right, it did.

We all grow at our own pace. We all grow as the Spirit leads. Just because you haven’t figured it all out yet — and none of us have, mine included — doesn’t mean he’s not working on you. Pay attention to what he’s doing in your life. Pay attention to what Scripture is speaking to you. Pay attention to where you feel the pull of the Spirit. Your faith is still growing, and that’s exactly where it’s supposed to be. Don’t give up on yourself, because he has not given up on you. He believes in who you are and who you’re becoming. So believe in that too.

Now, there’s one more thing in this passage I don’t want to glide past. It was the women — Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others — who went and told the apostles what they had witnessed. And the apostles? They thought it sounded like an idle tale. They didn’t believe them. Peter ran to the tomb and came home amazed, but still — the ones we think of as the leaders, the ones who would soon be standing up in Acts and leading the early church, they didn’t get it first. The women did.

I say this as a preacher: it’s so easy for us to always turn our eyes to whoever is up front, to assume that’s where the real action is, where the real faith is. But we miss so much when we do that. Sometimes the most powerful witness in the room — the most vivid expression of grace, the clearest picture of the gospel — is coming from the people we least expected. So look around. Don’t just look up front. Look at the whole body of Christ. Look especially at the people you might be tempted to overlook. I guarantee you’ll see God moving there.

So here’s what Luke’s account leaves us with this Friday: don’t look for the living among the dead. Don’t give up on your faith just because you haven’t figured it all out yet. And keep your eyes moving — because God has a habit of speaking through the people and places we least expect.

If you’re in the area, we’d love to have you at Saint Matthew’s on Sunday — it’s going to be a great day. Have a wonderful weekend, and I’ll see you back here Monday!