Sometimes, we confuse convenience with sacrifice. We want to love and serve—but only as long as it doesn’t disrupt our comfort or plans. Real sacrificial love, though, is costly. It means setting aside pride, convenience, and self-will for the sake of others. Jesus calls us not into easy love, but costly love—the kind that lays down life for friends.

Greatness in God’s kingdom isn’t measured by status, titles, or applause—it’s measured by sacrifice. True greatness is found in laying down our lives for others, just as Jesus did on the cross. It’s not convenient or comfortable; it costs pride, convenience, and even comfort. But in that giving, we find true joy, purpose, and life.

But then Jesus steps in and cuts through all the clutter. When asked the biggest question—What matters most?—He doesn’t give a complicated answer. He doesn’t create more hoops to jump through. He says: “Love God. Love people.”

We’ve all done it—taken something simple and turned it into something exhausting. It’s like loading the dishwasher. Sounds easy, right? Until suddenly there are fifty rules, and you’ve broken thirty of them.

We do that in our faith, too. Somewhere along the way, what was supposed to be a relationship with God turned into a performance for Him. A checklist. Rules about the rules.

But then Jesus steps in and cuts through all the clutter. When asked the biggest question—What matters most?—He doesn’t give a complicated answer. He doesn’t create more hoops to jump through. He says: “Love God. Love people.”

Jesus said true greatness comes from humility and welcoming the lowly—becoming like children who depend fully on God. It’s not about status or power, but about surrendering pride and loving others as if they were Him.

Revelation reminds us that Jesus is still worth it. The Lamb reigns, the scroll is open, Babylon will fall, and one day all things will be made new. Until then, we wait, worship, and witness — because the story isn’t ending in ruin but in restoration.

When the world feels chaotic and your heart feels tired, remember this: there is a throne, and it is not empty. There is a Lamb, and He is not silent. And there is a song that never stops: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain.”

The danger isn’t that we’ll reject Jesus outright — it’s that we’ll drift into a lukewarm faith that puts Him on a shelf instead of on the throne. He stands at the door and knocks. Open it. Let Him in. Because only His presence can make us whole

When the world feels like it’s falling apart, Revelation 1 reminds us where to look: not at the chaos around us, but at the glory of Christ among us. This past Sunday, Pastor Dave opened our new series in Revelation by reminding us that the book doesn’t begin with beasts or battles—it begins with Jesus. Present. Glorious. Gracious. And He holds the keys. If all you have is Jesus, and all that remains is His glory—then you have everything.

On this Pentecost Sunday, we explored Romans 8:14-17 to see Pentecost not as an origin story but an identity shift. It is a call to us to not just receive the Spirit, but to follow the Spirit and live into the mission we’ve been entrusted: to carry the Gospel adn proclaim the goodness of Jesus.

This Sunday, we explored one of the most powerful passages in the Bible: Ezekiel 37’s Dry Bones. And we heard how sometimes you have to speak life before you see life. Sometimes you have to declare resurrection while you’re still standing in a graveyard. Because even in the valley, God still breathes. And when He does, dry bones rise.