Week #4: The Table Is a Temple
Blog Series Intention Recap
This series invites readers to rediscover the rhythms of Shabbat as Jesus experienced them, revealing how ancient Jewish practices point to the rest, presence, and grace found in Messiah (Jesus). Each post unpacks a traditional element of Shabbat—beginning at sundown, candle lighting, spoken blessings, and shared meals—to show how they deepen our spiritual formation today. By exploring these practices, readers are equipped to follow Yeshua (Jesus) not only in belief but in the sacred rhythms of time, family, and worship.
This page is a post in the series “Dining with Jesus.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #4:
The Table Is a Temple…The Shabbat table was the center of weekly worship in Jewish life, not the synagogue. In Yeshua(Jesus)’s ministry, the table becomes a place of transformation, hospitality, and healing. When we gather in His name, even our everyday meals become sacred spaces. Reclaim the holiness of the table. Set aside time to eat, pray, and connect with others—knowing that Yeshua (Jesus) still meets people not just in temples, but at tables.
Why it Matters:
The Shabbat table is the heart of Jewish worship—a place of blessing, community, and remembrance.
Yeshua (Jesus) used tables to reveal the kingdom of God, eating with sinners, teaching disciples, and sharing His presence.
The early church practiced "table fellowship", breaking bread together as a rhythm of faith and joy.
Your home table can become holy ground, where Yeshua (Jesus) is honored, relationships are built, and grace is shared.
Go Deeper:
“They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God...” —Acts 2:46–47 (NIV)
When we think of worship, we often picture rows of chairs, raised hands, and a preacher on a stage. But in the life of Yeshua (Jesus)—and in Jewish tradition—worship often happened around a table.
The Shabbat table, not the synagogue, was the spiritual center of the home. Each Friday evening, families would gather. Candles were lit. Blessings were spoken. Bread was shared. The table became a temple.
And in the Gospels, we see that Yeshua (Jesus) loved tables.
He taught at them. He welcomed strangers to them. He was criticized for who He ate with at them.
And in His final hours, He didn’t preach a sermon—He hosted a meal.
The table is not just where food is served—it’s where grace is received.
Shabbat: Worship Around the Table
Jewish Shabbat begins not at the synagogue, but at the table.
As sundown approaches on Friday, the household pauses. The woman of the home lights the candles. A prayer is spoken. Wine is poured. Bread is blessed. Songs are sung. Scriptures are read.
There is no rush. There is no performance.
It is holy, but it is homely. Sacred, but simple.
The table is set not just with food, but with faith.
The meal is not fast—it is slow and deliberate. It is a time of togetherness, gratitude, and memory. Parents bless children. Husbands honor wives. Everyone remembers who they are and whose they are.
And in that space, God is honored—not through liturgy alone, but through love and attention.
Yeshua (Jesus) at the Table
Throughout the Gospels, Yeshua (Jesus) is often found at the table.
He eats with tax collectors (Matthew 9:10).
He dines with Pharisees (Luke 7:36).
He breaks bread with His friends (Luke 24:30).
He tells parables about banquets and wedding feasts (Luke 14).
He feeds multitudes on hillsides (Mark 6:41).
And He prepares breakfast for His disciples after the resurrection (John 21:12).
Yeshua (Jesus) didn’t use the table as a reward for the holy.
He used it as an invitation for the hungry.
“The Son of Man came eating and drinking...” —Luke 7:34
Why?
Because meals are where life happens. And Yeshua (Jesus) came to meet us in the ordinary rhythms of life—not just the sacred ones.
He didn’t separate worship from dinner. He combined them.
He turned tables into places of healing, reconciliation, forgiveness, and joy.
And He still does.
The Early Church and the Sacred Meal
After Pentecost, the early believers didn’t build sanctuaries or plan conferences. They gathered in homes.
“And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers...” —Acts 2:42 (ESV)
The phrase “breaking bread” refers not only to communion—but to shared meals. Table fellowship became a primary form of worship.
The home was the sanctuary.
The table was the altar.
The meal was the offering.
And the Spirit filled it all.
They didn’t need stages. They needed bread and blessing.
They didn’t wait for Sunday. They made every meal a moment to honor Yeshua (Jesus) and encourage one another.
Your Table Can Become a Temple
What if we reclaimed this?
What if our homes became centers of faith, not just places to crash?
What if our meals became acts of worship, not just quick refueling?
What if we invited people into our lives—not only to teach them truth, but to show them love?
You don’t need a seminary degree to be a host. You don’t need a perfect house to share a meal.
You just need a table and a willingness to welcome.
How does this help me understand, “Dining With Jesus?”
The Table Is Where the Kingdom Comes
In Luke 14, Yeshua (Jesus) told a parable about a banquet. Invitations were sent out. Many refused. So the master said:
“Go out to the highways and hedges and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled.” —Luke 14:23 (ESV)
God wants His table full.
He wants sinners and skeptics, children and elders, friends and neighbors.
Because the kingdom of God is not just a throne room—it is a dining room.
And Yeshua (Jesus) is still breaking bread with those who will welcome Him.
So set the table.
Light a candle.
Say a blessing.
And remember: this is where the kingdom begins.
How to Make Your Table Sacred
Try this simple pattern:
Light a candle before dinner as a signal: “This moment is set apart.”
Offer a blessing over the meal: “Thank You, Lord, for this food and these people.”
Read a short scripture (e.g., Psalm 23 or John 1:5).
Ask a simple question: “Where did you see God’s goodness today?”
Eat slowly. Talk honestly. Listen well.
Close with prayer: “Yeshua (Jesus), thank You for being here with us.”
When we do this, we’re not just eating—we’re dwelling in the presence of the Messiah.
Week #3: Blessing the Giver of the Bread and the Cup
Blog Series Intention Recap
This series invites readers to rediscover the rhythms of Shabbat as Jesus experienced them, revealing how ancient Jewish practices point to the rest, presence, and grace found in Messiah (Jesus). Each post unpacks a traditional element of Shabbat—beginning at sundown, candle lighting, spoken blessings, and shared meals—to show how they deepen our spiritual formation today. By exploring these practices, readers are equipped to follow Yeshua (Jesus) not only in belief but in the sacred rhythms of time, family, and worship.
This page is a post in the series “Dining with Jesus.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #3:
Blessing the Bread and the Cup… The Shabbat table teaches us that blessing precedes breaking. Yeshua (Jesus), following Jewish tradition, gave thanks before sharing the bread and the cup—showing that gratitude, not scarcity, frames the life of faith. In Him, old blessings find new meaning. Practice blessing the giver of your meals with intentional gratitude, remembering that every table where Jesus is welcomed becomes a place of covenant, provision, and peace.
Why it Matters:
Blessing precedes breaking—Yeshua (Jesus) gave thanks before distributing the bread and cup.
Shabbat blessings train us in gratitude, not entitlement.
The Last Supper grew from the weekly Shabbat meal, connecting provision and promise.
Bless your meals intentionally, making the table a place of remembrance and worship.
Go Deeper:
“And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them...” —Luke 22:19 (ESV)
When Yeshua (Jesus) gathered with His disciples in an upper room the night He was betrayed, He didn’t invent something new. He fulfilled something ancient.
He took bread.
He blessed it.
He broke it.
He shared it.
This rhythm was familiar to every Jewish home. It was the rhythm of Shabbat, the Sabbath meal, where week after week the people of God gave thanks to the Provider before partaking of His provision. A Jewish family would bless the giver of the gifts not the gifts themselves.
In blessing the giver of the bread and the cup, Yeshua (Jesus) demonstrated for the disciples that gratitude isn’t an afterthought. It is the beginning. It is the posture of a heart that sees grace where others see only survival.
When we bless the giver before we break, we live the gospel.
Blessing Comes Before Breaking
At every Shabbat meal, two primary blessings are spoken:
Over the cup (wine or juice):
Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.Over the bread (challah):
Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.
These blessings are simple, but deep. They declare two truths:
Everything good comes from God.
Gratitude changes how we receive.
Notice the order: blessing first, breaking second.
Yeshua (Jesus) honored this order. He didn’t break the bread and then say, "Oh yes, thank You." He blessed first. He named the goodness before the cost. He blessed the Giver directly, not the food.
In Luke 22:19–20, Yeshua (Jesus) took the bread and the cup, gave thanks, and then gave them to His disciples, saying:
"This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me... This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood."
The blessing transforms the breaking. Gratitude transforms sacrifice.
When we begin with blessing, even our suffering becomes holy. Even our tables become sanctuaries.
Shabbat Blessings Train the Heart
Weekly Shabbat blessings are not empty rituals. They are soul-shaping practices.
Every time a Jewish family blesses the giver of the bread and cup, they are practicing trust:
Trust that God provides.
Trust that God is near.
Trust that God is real even when life feels broken.
Gratitude is not natural to the human heart. Grumbling is. Entitlement is. Scarcity is.
But the practice of blessing retrains us.
It says: “Before I taste, I thank.”
It says: “Before I take, I trust.”
It says: “Before I see abundance, I believe in grace.”
When Yeshua (Jesus) lifted the bread and blessed the giver, He was living the Shabbat story: the story of a God who gives before we deserve, who provides before we earn, and who loves before we obey.
We need this same training.
We need tables that start with gratitude, not grabbing.
The Last Supper: Shabbat Fulfilled
The Last Supper wasn’t isolated from Jewish tradition—it grew from it.
Every Friday evening, families gathered to bless bread and wine, remembering God’s provision in the wilderness and His promise of future rest.
Yeshua (Jesus), celebrating Passover and embodying the Shabbat rhythm, reframed the elements around Himself.
The bread became His body.
The cup became His blood.
The familiar blessing became a new covenant.
"For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes."
—1 Corinthians 11:26 (ESV)
Every Christian communion, every Eucharist, every Lord’s Supper flows from this deep river. It is a continuation—and a fulfillment—of the Shabbat blessing.
When we bless the giver of the bread and cup today, we are not just remembering a night. We are remembering a story: the story of a faithful God, a self-giving Savior, and an endless covenant of grace.
Shabbat meals anticipated the Messiah. Now, every table set in His name proclaims that the Messiah has come.
Bless Your Meals Intentionally
What would happen if we reclaimed the practice of blessing?
Not just a hurried "Thanks for the food" prayer—but a real pause.
A real moment of worship.
A real act of gratitude.
You don’t need to learn Hebrew (though you can!). You don’t need a perfect meal. You need a willing heart.
How does this help me understand, “Dining With Jesus?”
Blessed Before Broken
In the life of Yeshua (Jesus), blessing always comes before breaking.
He blessed the children before sending them.
He blessed the bread before sharing it.
He blessed His disciples before sending them to the ends of the earth.
He even blessed those who would betray Him—loving them to the end (John 13:1).
The table where you sit tonight is not just for food—it is for fellowship. It is a reminder that you are blessed before you are broken. You are given grace before you are given tasks. You are loved before you are sent.
Yeshua (Jesus), the true Host, still lifts the bread and offers the cup.
He still blesses.
He still invites.
Come to the table—and begin with blessing.
Try This Practice:
At your next meal, before you eat:
Pause.
Light a candle if you wish.
Hold the bread in your hands.
Pray a blessing aloud:
“Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.”Thank Yeshua (Jesus) for being the true Bread of Life (John 6:35).
Then eat—gratefully, worshipfully.
Make your table a small altar.
Make your meal a small miracle.
In a world driven by hurry and hunger, slow down to bless before you break.
Week #2: When the Day Starts in the Dark
Blog Series Intention Recap
This series invites readers to rediscover the rhythms of Shabbat as Jesus experienced them, revealing how ancient Jewish practices point to the rest, presence, and grace found in Messiah (Jesus). Each post unpacks a traditional element of Shabbat—beginning at sundown, candle lighting, spoken blessings, and shared meals—to show how they deepen our spiritual formation today. By exploring these practices, readers are equipped to follow Yeshua (Jesus) not only in belief but in the sacred rhythms of time, family, and worship.
This page is a post in the series “Dining with Jesus.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #2:
When the Day Starts in the Dark… God designed time to begin in darkness so that we would begin with Him—not with effort, but with rest. This rhythm of Shabbat reveals the gospel: grace before works, rest before responsibility, light overcoming darkness. Let sundown become your signal to pause and remember: God works while you rest. Reorder your week to begin with worship, trust, and stillness—because in God’s kingdom, the day starts in the dark.
Why it Matters:
Rest comes before responsibility—we begin by trusting, not striving.
Salvation precedes sanctification—our lives start with grace, not effort.
Darkness does not win—every day begins in shadows but ends in light.
God works while we sleep—He sustains us when we surrender.
Go Deeper:
“And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.” —Genesis 1:5 (ESV)
It goes against everything we’ve learned. Days begin with the sunrise, right? Light breaks in, alarm clocks go off, coffee brews, and we start again. But in the Bible’s telling, the day doesn’t begin with dawn.
It begins in darkness.
This is not an incidental detail. It’s a declaration. From the first page of Scripture, God reveals His rhythm for creation—and it’s not like ours. His pattern is this: Evening comes first. Then morning. Every day begins in the dark.
The Jewish people have always honored this pattern. A new day, including the sacred Shabbat, begins not at midnight or sunrise, but at sundown.
Why?
Because the rhythm of time is meant to preach the gospel.
Rest Comes Before Responsibility
In our world, work earns rest. We clock in, push hard, and only when the job is done do we collapse into rest—if there’s any time left. But God doesn’t structure time that way.
From the first day of creation, God sets the tone: rest comes first. The day begins with evening. With stillness. With ceasing.
This is not just a clever spiritual insight. It’s a divine principle.
“And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.” —Genesis 1:5
Why does God start the day in darkness? Because He wants you to begin by trusting Him—not by proving yourself.
You begin each day asleep. Vulnerable. Unconscious. Useless.
And yet the world spins. Crops grow. Babies breathe. Gravity holds.
God does not wait for your effort to sustain His universe.
He begins the day without your help.
You were never meant to live from effort toward rest. You were meant to live from rest into calling.
That is what Shabbat teaches us.
Each week, as the sun sets on Friday, the people of God cease striving—not because their work is finished, but because God is enough.
This is the invitation of Shabbat: stop working and remember who’s really in charge.
Salvation Precedes Sanctification
This rhythm of rest-before-work doesn’t just reflect creation—it reflects salvation.
“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” —Ephesians 2:8–9 (ESV)
You are not saved because you worked hard.
You are not made holy because you behaved well.
You are not accepted by God because you earned it.
You were saved first. Then sanctified. Grace came before discipline. Yeshua (Jesus)’s finished work came before your spiritual efforts.
The rhythm of creation reflects this gospel.
The sun goes down. Darkness falls. You do nothing. And God says, “The day has begun.”
When you practice Shabbat, you step into that theology. You say with your actions, “I begin this week by trusting what Christ has already done.”
Yeshua (Jesus) Himself declared this as He breathed His last on the cross: “It is finished.” (John 19:30)
From that place of finished work, we live.
From that place of peace, we obey.
This is why Paul says in Galatians 3:3, “Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?”
Don’t start with grace and drift into performance. Let Shabbat train you to rest in what’s already been done.
Darkness Does Not Win
Why would God start every day in the dark?
Because every one of us begins in darkness.
We are born into brokenness. We wake up into a fallen world. We carry shadows and sin and pain. But the gospel says: the darkness will not last.
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.” —Isaiah 9:2 (ESV)
Yeshua (Jesus) is the Light who breaks the darkness.
The gospel doesn't pretend we start in the light—it proclaims that the Light has come to find us.
Each new day reminds us: though we begin in shadow, we end in sunrise.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” —John 1:5 (ESV)
Shabbat begins as the sun goes down. But it points to the day when “there will be no night there… for the Lord God will be their light” (Revelation 22:5).
This rhythm is not nostalgic—it’s eschatological. It teaches us to hope.
God Works While We Sleep
“It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep.” —Psalm 127:2 (ESV)
Sleep is an act of trust.
God doesn’t slumber, but you do.
You can’t control your world overnight—but He does.
He waters the earth while you sleep (Job 5:10). He watches over your house while you rest (Psalm 121:3–4). He renews your strength without your striving (Isaiah 40:31).
To keep working without rest is to confess unbelief. It is to say, “If I stop, everything stops.”
But when you let the day begin at sundown—when you welcome Shabbat with stillness and sleep—you declare: “I am not the Savior. I am the beloved. I can rest.”
Yeshua (Jesus) modeled this in His humanity. He slept on boats. He withdrew often. He honored Shabbat—not as a rule, but as a rhythm.
“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” —Mark 2:27 (ESV)
The Sabbath is not a burden. It is a gift. A weekly gospel. A recurring reminder that God works while we rest.
How does this help me understand, “Dining With Jesus?”
Living Like Jesus in the Rhythm of Shabbat
Yeshua (Jesus) didn’t abolish the Sabbath—He fulfilled it (Matthew 5:17). He didn’t cancel the rest; He became our rest.
He is the Lord of the Sabbath (Mark 2:28), and in Him, we find our ceasing, our peace, and our new beginning.
When Christians ignore the sacred rhythm of time, we disconnect from Yeshua(Jesus)’s own practices. But when we remember how He lived—with prayer, stillness, and Shabbat—we are formed into His image.
What would happen if your week began with rest?
Not with groceries, emails, or doomscrolling—but with candles. With prayer. With silence. With sleep.
Embrace the Rhythm:
Mark Sundown Friday Light a candle or turn down the lights. Declare aloud: “The day begins. I begin with rest.”
Pray Instead of Planning Rather than listing tasks, thank God for His work. Invite His presence. Ask for trust.
Cease from Labor Don’t clean, organize, or catch up. Rest. Let go. Let God.
Rest Like You’re Loved Take a walk. Laugh with family. Read the Word slowly. Breathe. You are not falling behind. You are beginning.
When You Begin with God, You Begin in Peace
This is what “Dining with Jesus” really means—not just eating with Him, but embracing His rhythm of rest and trust. Every sundown becomes a sermon. Every Shabbat becomes a song.
The gospel is in the dark.
Because Yeshua (Jesus) enters our shadows, brings light, and bids us sleep in peace.
“In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.” —Psalm 4:8 (ESV)
So tonight, as the light fades, don’t fight the dark.
Welcome it.
And let the day begin.
Week #4: From Ruth to Royalty
Blog Series Intention Recap
The book of Ruth is a short but powerful narrative that reveals the loyal and redeeming love of God at work in the lives of ordinary people. Through grief, risk, and uncertain futures, God provides a way forward that is both personal and redemptive. This series traces Ruth’s journey from loss to legacy, highlighting how God uses faithfulness, sacrifice, and community to bring about His divine plan. Ruth is more than a love story—it’s a glimpse into how God’s grace quietly transforms lives..
This page is a post in the series “Loyal Love.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #4:
From Bitter to Blessed: How Faithfulness Shapes a Future… Boaz and Ruth’s marriage brings about restoration of Naomi’s name and the family line that will lead to David. We cannot imagine the full extent that the story God is writing will have on the lives of others. We are called to be faithful, and God’s reward for that faithfulness is hope for all who trust in Him. Ruth’s faithfulness to Naomi and Boaz’s faithfulness to his family set the stage for the arrival of Israel’s eternal King.
Why it Matters:
Ruth and Boaz’s marriage restores hope, not only for Naomi but for Israel’s future.
God weaves individual faithfulness into His larger redemptive story.
Redemption turns personal suffering into communal blessing.
Our obedience today can have generational impact beyond what we can see.
Go Deeper:
Ruth 4:13–22
Some stories end quietly. Some end with celebration. And some, like Ruth’s, end with more than anyone could have expected. Ruth 4:13–22 ties together threads of loss, love, loyalty, and legacy to show us what only God could have planned from the start: redemption that reaches beyond one lifetime and into eternity.
A Marriage and a Miracle
Boaz and Ruth marry, and immediately, the Lord gives them a child.
"So Boaz took Ruth, and she became his wife. And he went in to her, and the Lord gave her conception, and she bore a son." (Ruth 4:13, ESV)
This is more than a personal joy—it is a divine sign. Ruth, once barren in Moab, now bears fruit in Bethlehem. God not only redeems her story but uses it to advance His own eternal story.
Every birth in the Bible carries more than biological meaning—it signals God's ongoing faithfulness to His covenant promises.
Naomi’s Restoration
Notice the attention given to Naomi:
"Then the women said to Naomi, 'Blessed be the Lord, who has not left you this day without a redeemer... He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age.'" (Ruth 4:14–15)
The community blesses Naomi as much as Ruth. Naomi, who once called herself “Mara” (bitter), is now renewed through Ruth’s child, Obed.
In a profound reversal, the woman who believed her life was over becomes the nurse to new life. What she saw as emptiness God has filled beyond measure.
A Legacy That Outlives Them All
The story doesn’t end with Obed’s birth. Ruth 4 closes with a genealogy—a list of names that connect Ruth’s faithfulness to David, Israel’s greatest king:
"Obed fathered Jesse, and Jesse fathered David." (v. 22)
Ruth, the Moabite, becomes the great-grandmother of David. Her name is forever stitched into the royal line of Israel. And, as the Gospel of Matthew tells us, her name also finds its place in the genealogy of Jesus Christ (Matthew 1:5).
God’s redemption of Ruth wasn’t just personal—it was cosmic.
Faithfulness that Echoes
None of the characters in Ruth could have seen this coming. They simply acted faithfully in their own generation:
Naomi mentored Ruth with wisdom and hope.
Ruth remained loyal, risking everything to follow Naomi and trust in Israel’s God.
Boaz acted with kindness, respect, and covenant loyalty.
Their obedience didn’t seem extraordinary in the moment. But God wove it into the foundation of His redemptive plan for the world.
This reminds us: our daily acts of faithfulness may have generational impact we will never fully see.
Personal Redemption and Cosmic Redemption
The story of Ruth teaches that redemption works on two levels:
Personal: Ruth, Boaz, and Naomi all experience personal restoration—marriage, birth, and joy after suffering.
Cosmic: Through their story, God advances His plan to bring the Messiah into the world.
Our own stories also operate on these two levels. God cares about the intimate details of our lives—and He is simultaneously using our lives to advance His kingdom purposes.
How does this help me understand, “Loyal Love?”
Your Faithfulness Matters More Than You Know
It’s tempting to believe that only “big” actions matter. But Ruth’s story shows otherwise. Loyalty, kindness, courage, and trust—these seemingly small things—become the instruments of history.
Your prayers, your service, your unseen faithfulness may become part of someone else's future legacy. Your obedience today may become the seed of hope for generations yet unborn.
You May Not See the Whole Story—But God Does
Naomi didn't live to see David. Ruth didn’t know her son would carry the lineage of kings. Boaz didn't see the arrival of Jesus.
But their faithfulness was the soil where God's promises grew.
In the same way, you may not see all the fruit of your faithfulness. You may wonder if your sacrifices are worth it. But God is weaving every act of loyalty, love, and obedience into a story far greater than you imagine.
From Bitter to Blessed
Naomi’s story began with famine and death. Ruth’s story began with widowhood and exile. Boaz’s story began as a wealthy landowner in a struggling nation.
But their stories ended with laughter, with hope, and with a legacy that would bless the entire world.
This is what redemption looks like in the hands of a faithful God. No sorrow is wasted. No loyalty goes unnoticed. No act of obedience is forgotten.
Trust the Author
The story of Ruth calls us to trust the unseen Author of our lives. He is working through our pain and perseverance. His plans are longer, deeper, and more beautiful than we know.
When we walk faithfully, even when we can’t see the outcome, we join the great story of redemption—a story that began before us and will continue long after us, to the glory of God.
Through loyalty, risk, and redemption, Ruth’s story shows that God’s faithful love turns mourning into joy and uses ordinary faithfulness to fulfill extraordinary promises.
Week #3: The Risk of Redemption
Blog Series Intention Recap
The book of Ruth is a short but powerful narrative that reveals the loyal and redeeming love of God at work in the lives of ordinary people. Through grief, risk, and uncertain futures, God provides a way forward that is both personal and redemptive. This series traces Ruth’s journey from loss to legacy, highlighting how God uses faithfulness, sacrifice, and community to bring about His divine plan. Ruth is more than a love story—it’s a glimpse into how God’s grace quietly transforms lives..
This page is a post in the series “Loyal Love.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #3:
Hope at Midnight: When Faith Walks into the Unknown… Naomi plays matchmaker in hopes that Boaz will take Ruth as his wife and thus provide a future for Ruth.Sometimes God will use us to help change the lives of others, and sometimes He will use others to change our lives. In either case, our greatest task is to remain open to what God is doing and then respond with a heart of gratitude.
Why it Matters:
Redemption often requires risk—Ruth’s bold approach showed trust in both God and Boaz.
Boaz’s honorable response models how godly character protects and uplifts.
Naomi’s plan reflects trust in God’s providence, not manipulation.
God often works through human courage and obedience to accomplish divine purposes.
Go Deeper:
Ruth 3:1–4:12
Sometimes redemption requires courage before comfort. Ruth 3 introduces a bold and delicate plan: a Moabite widow lying at the feet of a respected man on the threshing floor. What seems like a risky romance is actually a picture of God’s faithfulness unfolding through human trust, dignity, and covenant love.
A Mother-in-Law’s Plan
Naomi’s journey has already shifted from bitterness to hope. Seeing Boaz’s favor toward Ruth, she recognizes that their redeemer may be standing right in front of them. In Israelite law, a “kinsman redeemer” (go’el) could marry a widow to preserve the family line. Naomi puts this hope into action.
“My daughter, should I not seek rest for you, that it may be well with you?” (Ruth 3:1, ESV)
This is not manipulation—it’s motherly wisdom wrapped in trust. Naomi wants to secure Ruth’s future, and she trusts Boaz to do right.
A Risky Act of Faith
Ruth goes to the threshing floor at night. She uncovers Boaz’s feet and lies down—an act both bold and vulnerable. This was not seduction, but a culturally meaningful sign of a request for covering and protection (see Ezekiel 16:8 for a parallel of covering and covenant).
When Boaz awakens, Ruth makes her intentions clear:
“Spread your wings over your servant, for you are a redeemer.” (Ruth 3:9)
This is not just a proposal—it’s a plea for redemption. She’s asking Boaz to act as the go’el—to cover her, protect her, and continue the family line.
Character Under Pressure
Boaz’s response shows why he is a worthy man. He doesn’t take advantage of Ruth. He doesn’t shame her. Instead, he praises her character:
“You have made this last kindness greater than the first… for you have not gone after young men.” (v. 10)
Boaz recognizes Ruth’s sacrificial love, just as he did in chapter 2. And rather than act impulsively, he chooses to do everything lawfully—even acknowledging there’s another relative who has first rights to redeem.
Boaz’s Integrity
The next morning, Boaz goes straight to the city gate—the place of legal decisions. He meets the nearer redeemer and lays out the situation. That man declines (perhaps due to cost or complications), freeing Boaz to fulfill the role.
In Ruth 4:9–10, Boaz publicly declares:
“You are witnesses this day that I have bought from the hand of Naomi all that belonged to Elimelech… also Ruth the Moabite… I have bought to be my wife.”
This is not just romance. It is legal, public, and covenantal redemption. Boaz restores the family name, protects Ruth, and honors Naomi.
Redemption and Respect
This chapter is about more than love—it’s about godly relationships. Ruth takes a risk in submission. Boaz responds in righteousness. Naomi entrusts her future to God’s providence.
Each person plays their part faithfully, and through their integrity, God’s redemptive plan moves forward.
How does this help me understand, “Loyal Love?”
Redemption Isn’t Passive
This part of Ruth’s story teaches us that redemption often involves risk, movement, and courage. God honors the faith of those who act in line with His will. Whether we are initiating or responding, God uses our steps to unfold His plan.
Boaz’s redemption of Ruth isn’t just a happy ending—it’s a picture of Christ. Jesus, our ultimate Redeemer, stepped forward publicly to cover us, not with a cloak, but with His own blood. He bore the cost and gave us a name and a future.
When God Asks You to Take a Step
Sometimes, like Ruth, we are called to step forward in trust, even if the road ahead is uncertain. We must place our hope in the character of the one we’re entrusting ourselves to—ultimately, that’s not a Boaz, but the Lord Himself.
Sometimes, like Boaz, we are called to act with integrity and protect those who are vulnerable. Redemption may cost us, but the reward is far greater.
Your Role in Redemption
You may be Naomi—guiding someone toward a better future. You may be Ruth—stepping out with faith when the outcome is unclear. You may be Boaz—called to protect, redeem, and respond with kindness.
Whatever your role, your faithfulness matters. God writes redemption into ordinary lives through open hearts and willing obedience.
Gratitude and Glory
When Ruth returns to Naomi in Ruth 3:18, Naomi says:
“Wait, my daughter, until you learn how the matter turns out, for the man will not rest but will settle the matter today.”
Faith acts boldly, and then it waits patiently. Ruth, Boaz, and Naomi show us that faith doesn’t mean control. It means moving when God calls—and trusting when we’ve done our part.
Special Edition: A Woman Welcomes the Light (Happy Mother’s Day)
Blog Series Intention Recap
This series invites readers to rediscover the rhythms of Shabbat as Jesus experienced them, revealing how ancient Jewish practices point to the rest, presence, and grace found in Messiah (Jesus). Each post unpacks a traditional element of Shabbat—beginning at sundown, candle lighting, spoken blessings, and shared meals—to show how they deepen our spiritual formation today. By exploring these practices, readers are equipped to follow Yeshua (Jesus) not only in belief but in the sacred rhythms of time, family, and worship.
This page is a post in the series “Dining with Jesus.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into this SpecialWeek:
A Woman Welcomes the Light… In the Jewish tradition, Shabbat begins with a woman lighting the candles—ushering in light, peace, and sacred time. In the gospel story, Mary welcomes the Light of the World into the world. This divine pattern reminds us that Yeshua (Jesus) is still welcomed by faithful people—often through the quiet strength and spiritual leadership of women. Honor the light-bringers in your life. Practice inviting the presence of Jesus into your home through peace, prayer, and intentional rhythms—perhaps even with candlelight.
Why it Matters:
Women light the Shabbat candles, symbolizing the beginning of rest and the presence of peace.
Mary’s “yes” welcomed Yeshua (Jesus), the true Light, into the darkness of the world.
Yeshua (Jesus) honored women as vital participants in His mission and ministry.
Light a candle to mark sacred time and invite the presence of the Light of the World into your home.
Go Deeper:
“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” —Yeshua (Jesus), John 8:12 (ESV)
Every Friday evening in Jewish homes around the world, a woman stands before a flickering flame and says a quiet prayer. She covers her eyes, lights the candles, and whispers the ancient blessing that begins the most sacred time of the week:
Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu, Melech ha’olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Shabbat.
Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to light the Sabbath candles.
With that gentle flame, Shabbat begins. A holy pause enters the home. The day becomes different. The ordinary is set apart.
This tradition is thousands of years old, and yet it is alive with gospel meaning. In the light of those candles, we see the story of Yeshua (Jesus). And in the woman who lights them, we see the dignity of faith, hospitality, and welcome.
Let’s reflect on the beauty and theology of this tradition—and how it connects us to the Light of the World.
The Flame that Welcomes Shabbat
In Jewish tradition, the woman of the household lights the Shabbat candles. This is not simply a domestic task—it is a theological act. She does not wait until the sun has set. She lights the candles before darkness falls, to ensure the home is ready for rest and worship.
The candle lighting signifies the beginning of sacred time. It separates the ordinary from the holy. It marks the boundary between the frantic pace of the week and the peace of God's rest.
And most significantly: it welcomes light into darkness.
This is not an empty ritual. It is a weekly picture of salvation. The light doesn’t wait for the world to fix itself. It arrives before the darkness takes over.
Just like the gospel.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” —John 1:5 (ESV)
Mary’s “Yes” and the Light of the World
Now consider Mary of Nazareth, a young Jewish woman in a small Galilean village. When the angel Gabriel appeared to her, he spoke of a child who would be the Son of the Most High. He would reign forever. And His name would be Yeshua (Jesus).
Mary’s response?
“Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” —Luke 1:38 (ESV)
In that moment, she welcomed the Light of the World into the darkness of the world.
Mary, like the women who light the Sabbath candles, did not delay. She said yes before she fully understood. She believed before she saw. And in doing so, she became the first to welcome Jesus—not only into her home, but into the world.
Every Shabbat candle is a reflection of this moment.
The light is not only physical—it is spiritual. It is peace in chaos. It is Jesus in the storm. It is the Light of God breaking through the silence.
When a woman lights the candle, she reenacts Mary’s “yes.” She welcomes the presence of God into her space.
Yeshua (Jesus) Honored Women
Yeshua (Jesus) did not enter a world that honored women—but He honored them anyway.
He spoke to women when others shunned them (John 4). He healed them when others ignored them (Luke 13). He welcomed them as disciples and friends (Luke 10:38–42). He allowed them to anoint Him, bless Him, and even support His ministry (Luke 8:1–3).
And when He rose from the dead, the first witnesses were women (Matthew 28:1–10).
In every Gospel account, women were among the first to believe, to serve, and to tell the story.
Yeshua (Jesus) didn’t just tolerate women—He trusted them.
The Shabbat candle tradition is a living picture of this. Every week, as a woman lights the candle and speaks peace over her home, she steps into a long line of faithful women who welcomed God.
This act of lighting a flame is not small. It is sacred.
Light a Candle, Invite His Presence
You may not be Jewish. You may not speak Hebrew. But the invitation still stands:
Light a candle. Welcome the Light. Make space for Yeshua (Jesus).
Let that small flame be a spiritual discipline. A moment of hospitality. A holy interruption.
Here’s how you can begin:
A Simple Shabbat Practice:
Choose a time: Friday evening before sundown.
Light a candle: Any candle will do. What matters is the moment.
Say a prayer: “Lord, as this candle burns, let Your peace fill this home. May Your presence rest here.”
Pause: Sit in the stillness. Let the flame remind you that God is near.
You don’t need to light a perfect candle. You need to light a real one. You don’t need to speak flawless Hebrew. You need to speak from the heart.
This is not legalism—it’s invitation. It’s rhythm. It’s a way of setting your home apart.
How does this help me understand, “Dining With Jesus?”
Welcome the Light
In John 8:12, Yeshua (Jesus) declared:
“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (ESV)
The light still shines.
The darkness still trembles.
And you still have the choice to welcome Him.
This week, don’t wait for Sunday to begin your worship. Let Friday night become holy. Let a candle become your call to peace. Let the presence of Yeshua (Jesus) be invited in—not just to your church, but to your home.
Honor the light-bringers. Welcome the Light. And remember: before the world knew His name, a woman said yes—and everything changed.
Week #2: Kindness in the Fields
Blog Series Intention Recap
The book of Ruth is a short but powerful narrative that reveals the loyal and redeeming love of God at work in the lives of ordinary people. Through grief, risk, and uncertain futures, God provides a way forward that is both personal and redemptive. This series traces Ruth’s journey from loss to legacy, highlighting how God uses faithfulness, sacrifice, and community to bring about His divine plan. Ruth is more than a love story—it’s a glimpse into how God’s grace quietly transforms lives..
This page is a post in the series “Loyal Love.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #2:
Unexpected Grace: When Faithfulness Meets Favor… Boaz both celebrates Ruth for her service to Naomi and to the “family” overall, by giving her special security and treatment. God doesn’t always move in the ways we might imagine, but if we are attentive, we’ll find that He does move. We never know when God might return our kindness to others back to us and the form it might take. So, we must make habits of compassion and costly personal generosity and trust that God will provide at just the right time.
Why it Matters:
God’s provision is often found in ordinary places—like a barley field.
Ruth’s character draws the attention and protection of Boaz.
Boaz’s generosity models how to reflect God’s kindness.
We should give generously, trusting God to care for us in His timing.
Go Deeper:
Ruth 2:8–20
The fields of Bethlehem held no guarantees. For a Moabite widow like Ruth, gleaning was risky and exhausting. But her faithfulness to Naomi had already set her apart. As she bends to pick up leftover grain, God is arranging an encounter—one that will remind us that kindness matters, that generosity changes stories, and that God sees.
Gleaning and God’s Law
In ancient Israel, God made special provisions for the poor and foreigner. Leviticus 19:9–10 commanded landowners not to reap to the edges of their fields but to leave gleanings for the marginalized. Ruth enters these fields as both poor and foreign—but she doesn’t enter alone. God’s law has already made space for her. His Word makes a way before His people ever step into the scene.
A Man Named Boaz
Boaz is introduced as “a worthy man” (Ruth 2:1), a term that speaks of wealth, strength, and honor. But he proves even more worthy in character. When Boaz arrives and notices Ruth, his actions go beyond the law. He doesn’t merely permit Ruth to glean; he ensures her safety, speaks with respect, and offers her water and protection.
“Then Boaz said to Ruth, ‘Now, listen, my daughter, do not go to glean in another field… I have charged the young men not to touch you.’” (Ruth 2:8–9, ESV)
Boaz uses his position not for personal gain but for someone else’s peace.
Ruth’s Reputation of Loyalty
Ruth is stunned by the favor she receives. Her humility and confusion are palpable:
“Why have I found favor in your eyes, that you should take notice of me, since I am a foreigner?” (v. 10)
Boaz’s response is telling: he has heard of all she’s done for Naomi. Ruth’s reputation precedes her. Her loyalty has already made waves.
Kindness has a ripple effect. What she gave in Moab comes back to her in Bethlehem—through the generosity of someone she hadn’t yet met.
Boaz: A Shadow of the Redeemer
In many ways, Boaz foreshadows Jesus. He sees the outsider. He invites her in. He offers protection and provision without requiring merit. He treats her with dignity. Ruth does not need to earn his kindness—she simply needs to be near it.
Boaz’s words to Ruth sound like a blessing but also a prayer:
“The Lord repay you for what you have done… a full reward be given you by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge!” (v. 12)
Boaz sees Ruth’s faith. He acknowledges that her real refuge is not his field, but God’s mercy.
The Kindness of the Kingdom
The way Boaz treats Ruth models how God’s people should treat others. He doesn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. He empowers her through respect and generosity. He doesn’t just tolerate her presence—he ensures her well-being.
In an age where kindness is often rare, Ruth 2 calls us back to a different ethic: one of intentional generosity.
God’s Hidden Hand
There is no miracle in this chapter—just a string of small providences. Ruth “happens” to glean in Boaz’s field (v. 3). Boaz “just so happens” to arrive that day. These are not coincidences; they are subtle notes of divine direction.
God may not always move in visible ways, but He always moves.
How does this help me understand, “Loyal Love?”
The God Who Works Through Kindness
When Ruth returned to Naomi that evening with arms full of grain, she didn’t just bring food. She brought proof that God still sees, still provides, and still uses the faithfulness of His people to bless others.
Our role is not to control the outcome but to offer compassion in the field. When we do, we might just find that our kindness leads to something more than a meal—it leads to a movement of redemption.
Be Generous Without Knowing the Outcome
We often think of generosity in terms of what we can spare. But Boaz shows generosity as investment. He doesn’t know what will come of his kindness—but he gives anyway.
Our kindness today may be part of someone else’s breakthrough tomorrow. We are called to serve without strings, love without expectations, and trust that God will provide.
God’s Economy: Sowing and Reaping
Naomi, once empty, now receives bread and hope through Ruth’s arms. Ruth, once a foreigner, now finds refuge and dignity. Boaz, once just a landowner, becomes part of God’s redemptive line.
In God’s economy, faithful sowing leads to surprising harvests.
Who Can You Be a Boaz To?
Who in your life needs to be noticed, blessed, and protected? Who has quietly served without reward? Who is gathering scraps when they need an invitation to sit at your table?
Boaz used what he had to lift someone up. What has God given you that might be used the same way?
Week #1: When the Road Seems Empty
Blog Series Intention Recap
The book of Ruth is a short but powerful narrative that reveals the loyal and redeeming love of God at work in the lives of ordinary people. Through grief, risk, and uncertain futures, God provides a way forward that is both personal and redemptive. This series traces Ruth’s journey from loss to legacy, highlighting how God uses faithfulness, sacrifice, and community to bring about His divine plan. Ruth is more than a love story—it’s a glimpse into how God’s grace quietly transforms lives..
This page is a post in the series “Loyal Love.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #1:
More Than Meets the Grief: Ruth’s Loyalty and God’s Long View… Naomi struggles with her own future and cannot promise anything to either of her daughters-in-law, but God sees more to our situation than we can see for ourselves. God makes no mistakes in the people He surrounds us with as we walk our journey. Like Naomi, we may feel like it would be better for others to go on their way and do something different, but God may intend that we continue to walk with them as He uses them to bless us. Our blessing in this life may turn out to be a blessing for others and finally a blessing to the kingdom.
Why it Matters:
God is at work even when we feel empty and forgotten.
The people we walk with in suffering may be part of our future redemption.
Ruth’s loyalty foreshadows God’s faithful love.
Our choices today can bless future generations beyond our sight.
Go Deeper:
Ruth 1:6–18
Grief can blur our vision. When everything falls apart, we tend to look down—down at our losses, our pain, our dashed hopes. Naomi’s story in Ruth 1 is the story of a woman who believed her life had ended. But the God of Israel writes longer stories than we expect. And sometimes, He uses unexpected people to turn the page.
The Story So Far: Loss Upon Loss
The book of Ruth opens with famine, migration, and death. Naomi and her family leave Bethlehem to survive. But in the land of Moab, her husband and sons die, leaving her with two Moabite daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah.
In Ruth 1:6, Naomi hears that the famine is over in Judah. She prepares to return, broken and bitter. She urges Ruth and Orpah to stay behind. In her mind, there is no future with her. No hope. No children. No home. She believes the emptiness is all there is.
But God has not abandoned her. He is about to bring restoration, beginning with a relationship she doesn’t yet value—her bond with Ruth.
God’s Silent, Sovereign Work
Naomi doesn’t hear a divine voice. There are no angels or miracles. Yet, God is moving. The decision to return to Bethlehem sets in motion the chain of events that will change history. And Ruth, the outsider, becomes God’s agent of loyalty and love.
God often works quietly through providence rather than loudly through spectacle. Like Naomi, we may only see bitterness and loss—but He sees blessing and restoration.
Ruth’s Famous Pledge: Covenant Love
Ruth’s reply in verses 16–17 is a turning point not just in the chapter but in the book:
“Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.”
This is not just affection. This is covenant language. Ruth is binding herself to Naomi with a faithfulness that echoes God’s own covenant with His people. She invokes the name of Israel’s God, adopting Naomi’s faith. Ruth is no longer just a Moabite widow—she becomes a reflection of God’s own chesed, His loyal love.
Naomi’s Eyes Are Still Clouded
Naomi accepts Ruth’s vow but remains unconvinced that good can come. When she returns to Bethlehem, she tells everyone:
“Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me.” (Ruth 1:20, ESV)
Her grief defines her. Her identity is consumed by sorrow. She cannot yet see that Ruth’s loyalty is a gift from God, that her story is not over.
But it is. The road that seemed empty is actually full of possibility.
The Theology of Loyal Companionship
This opening chapter teaches us that loyalty is never wasted. Ruth could have stayed in Moab. It would have been safer. But love compelled her forward. Her presence in Naomi’s life is God’s answer to Naomi’s pain, even if Naomi doesn’t yet see it.
God often works this way: through the ordinary, through the loyal, through the overlooked. His providence is woven into human faithfulness.
Who Is Your Ruth?
When we feel broken, we often try to push others away. We think we’re too much of a burden or that it’s better to suffer alone. But God places people around us for a reason. Naomi couldn’t promise Ruth anything, but Ruth still stayed. Why? Because God’s hand was guiding her.
Ask yourself: Who has God placed in your life during your hard season? Who continues to walk with you even when you have nothing to offer?
Who Needs You to Be Ruth?
On the other side, are you being called to walk with someone through their pain? Like Ruth, we may feel unsure about the journey. But God often uses people who show up, stick close, and bring the presence of His love without needing to solve anything.
Foreshadowing Redemption
This chapter ends with a faint glimmer of hope:
“And they came to Bethlehem at the beginning of barley harvest.” (Ruth 1:22)
This is not just a time marker. It’s a hint. Harvest is coming. Redemption is coming. Ruth’s loyalty will lead to Boaz, to marriage, to legacy, to King David—and ultimately to Jesus.
The God who works through famine and faithfulness is setting the stage for something no one can imagine yet.
How does this help me understand, “Loyal Love?”
God is not silent in Ruth 1, even though He doesn’t speak. He is present in loyalty. He is present in grief. He is present on the road back to Bethlehem. The story of Ruth begins in sorrow but ends in hope—because God always sees more than we do.
Don’t Dismiss the People God Has Placed with You
Ruth was a surprising companion. Naomi could not imagine she was the key to her restoration. But she was.
You may be tempted to let go of someone or withdraw because of grief, pain, or uncertainty. Don’t. The person walking with you might be God’s gift.
You may also feel like you’re just tagging along in someone else’s story. But in God’s eyes, that companionship may be the central act of faith that shapes generations.
Loyal Love
Blog Series Intention Recap
The book of Ruth is a short but powerful narrative that reveals the loyal and redeeming love of God at work in the lives of ordinary people. Through grief, risk, and uncertain futures, God provides a way forward that is both personal and redemptive. This series traces Ruth’s journey from loss to legacy, highlighting how God uses faithfulness, sacrifice, and community to bring about His divine plan. Ruth is more than a love story—it’s a glimpse into how God’s grace quietly transforms lives.
This post is the main page of the series “Loyal Love.”
Week #4: A New World Coming
Blog Series Intention Recap
The resurrection of Jesus is not only the turning point of history—it is the beginning of a new creation. Through His victory over sin and death, Christ offers us new life now and the hope of a renewed world to come. This series explores how the resurrection transforms our hearts, reshapes our communities, and reorients our hope toward the restoration of all things. As we live into the reality of Easter, we become living signs of the world God is making new.
This post is the main page of the series “New Creation.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #4:
A New World Coming… God’s promise to renew all things is certain. As new creations in Christ, we live with confidence, hope, and purpose. Let your life reflect the hope of God’s future. Live today as someone preparing for eternity.
Why it Matters:
God will make a new heaven and a new earth where righteousness dwells (Revelation 21).
The gospel makes us new creations now, not just in the future (2 Corinthians 5:17).
The hope of renewal anchors our endurance and mission in the present.
God’s future world shapes our values, priorities, and relationships now.
Go Deeper:
The resurrection of Jesus is not the end of the story—it’s the beginning of everything new.
From Genesis to Revelation, God’s plan has always pointed toward full restoration. Sin, death, and decay do not have the final word. God does. And the word He speaks over the end of the Bible—and over the end of all history—is this: “Behold, I am making all things new.”
That promise in Revelation 21 is not wishful thinking. It is the certain future of all who are in Christ. But it's also more than future hope. It is present direction. Because the new creation has already begun in us, we live now in light of what will soon be fully revealed.
A Future Promised: All Things New
Revelation 21:1–5 paints one of the clearest and most comforting pictures in Scripture:
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth... And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them... and he who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’” (vv. 1, 3, 5, ESV)
This is not annihilation and escape. It’s transformation and arrival. Heaven comes down. The old, broken creation doesn’t get discarded—it gets restored. The resurrection of Jesus was the prototype of what is to come: a new physical life, in a new physical world, free from death, mourning, crying, and pain.
Christians don’t hope for disembodied eternity—we long for resurrection life in a renewed creation. This is the heartbeat of biblical hope: not just life after death, but life after life after death.
This future is not merely encouraging—it is shaping. Because we know the end, we live differently now.
A Present Reality: New Creations Today
Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17:
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” (ESV)
This verse is not poetic exaggeration. It is a theological declaration. The new world is already breaking into this one—through you. When you came to Christ, the Spirit began the work of renewal in your heart, your mind, and your life. You are a living preview of God's promised future.
You may not feel new every day. But God’s Word assures you that you are being renewed daily (2 Corinthians 4:16). You are not just forgiven—you are being made new. Not merely rescued from judgment—but re-created for glory.
God’s new creation is not only coming for you—it has begun in you.
A Daily Calling: Living Toward God’s Future
The knowledge of this future changes the way we live in the present. Peter asks in 2 Peter 3:11:
“Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness?” (ESV)
The question is rhetorical but powerful. If everything temporary is fading, then our priorities must shift. What matters now is what will last. That’s why Paul says in Colossians 3:2–4:
“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth... When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” (ESV)
Hope isn’t passive. It’s active. It doesn’t sit on its hands—it rolls up its sleeves. Christians are not escapists. We are ambassadors. Every time we love sacrificially, live generously, forgive freely, or proclaim the gospel boldly, we are declaring to the world: this isn’t all there is. Something better is coming—and it starts now.
A Missional Identity: Previewing the Kingdom
The world is hungry for hope. People see what is broken, but many can’t imagine what could be healed. The church exists to show them. As new creations, we preview the new creation. Our lives are not meant to mimic the world, but to model God’s future.
This is what Jesus meant when He called us salt and light (Matthew 5:13–16). Salt preserves. Light reveals. The resurrection makes us signs of what’s coming—a world ruled by justice, filled with joy, healed from sorrow, and centered on the presence of God.
You don’t need a platform to show this. Just faithfulness. In how you treat people. How you spend money. How you show up when others walk away. The small acts of obedience today speak of the great transformation tomorrow.
As Paul reminds us:
“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” (2 Corinthians 4:17, ESV)
We are not defined by what is passing. We are shaped by what is coming.
How does this help me understand, “A New Creation?”
Start Living the Future Today
The resurrection of Jesus ensures not just that there is life after death, but that there is hope during life. We are not just waiting for a better world—we are already part of it.
This week, consider how you can reflect God's future in your present:
Speak hope when others despair. Be a voice of peace in a fearful world.
Invest in what lasts—people, relationships, gospel mission.
Ask God to renew your imagination. What does it look like to live like a citizen of heaven while still on earth?
Pray this simple prayer each morning:
“Lord Jesus, thank You that the resurrection has begun. Help me live today as part of Your new creation. Use my life to show the world that You are making all things new.”
Because you are. And He is. And a new world is coming.
Week #3: Alive in Christ
Blog Series Intention Recap
The resurrection of Jesus is not only the turning point of history—it is the beginning of a new creation. Through His victory over sin and death, Christ offers us new life now and the hope of a renewed world to come. This series explores how the resurrection transforms our hearts, reshapes our communities, and reorients our hope toward the restoration of all things. As we live into the reality of Easter, we become living signs of the world God is making new.
This post is the main page of the series “New Creation.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #3:
Alive in Christ… Because of Christ’s resurrection, we walk in newness of life now, even as we await the renewal of all things. Celebrate the risen Christ by living the new life He purchased for you—right now.
Why it Matters:
Christ’s resurrection means sin and death no longer rule over us (Romans 6).
Our new life begins now and leads us toward a restored creation (Isaiah 65).
The resurrection guarantees the coming new heavens and new earth (2 Peter 3).
New life today is both a response to grace and a rehearsal for glory.
Go Deeper:
Easter is more than a holiday—it’s the hinge of history. On the third day, Jesus rose from the dead, conquering sin and death. And because He lives, we live. This is the heartbeat of the Christian faith. But Easter is not just about a moment in the past. It’s about a new way of living in the present, and a glorious future still to come.
In Romans 6:4, Paul describes the profound implications of Christ’s resurrection:
“We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” (ESV)
The resurrection is not just a theological doctrine—it’s a personal reality. If you are in Christ, then His resurrection is your resurrection. The same power that raised Jesus from the grave now empowers you to live differently. This is not wishful thinking. It is gospel truth.
Let’s explore what it means to walk in newness of life.
Christ’s Resurrection Means Death No Longer Rules Us
Romans 6 explains the believer’s union with Christ in death and resurrection. When Jesus died, our old self died with Him. When He rose, we rose with Him into a new life:
“We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing... Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.” (vv. 6, 8, ESV)
This means we are no longer slaves to sin. Death no longer has the final word. The power of sin has been broken, not because we are strong, but because Christ is victorious.
Think of it this way: before Jesus, we lived in the shadow of death. But now, because of Easter, we live in the light of life. This changes how we speak, how we respond, how we love, and how we hope. The resurrection is not just our rescue—it’s our release into a new kind of life.
New Life Starts Now, Not Later
Too many Christians treat eternal life as something that begins after death. But Scripture teaches that resurrection life begins the moment we are united with Christ. Paul uses the present tense: “we too might walk in newness of life.”
This means the Christian life is not waiting for heaven—it’s walking with Jesus now. You are not merely saved from something (sin and judgment); you are saved for something: a new way of life shaped by grace, holiness, and joy.
Isaiah 65 gives us a poetic vision of what this life will one day look like in fullness:
“For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered or come into mind.” (Isaiah 65:17, ESV)
The beauty of this vision is that it doesn’t just describe a distant paradise—it points toward a reality that is already unfolding. Jesus is the beginning of the new creation, and the life He gives you is a first taste of what is coming.
This is why holiness matters. Why forgiveness matters. Why hospitality and peace and joy matter. These are not just religious practices—they are echoes of the world to come.
A New World Is Coming, and We Are Getting Ready
In 2 Peter 3:11–13, the apostle Peter connects the coming new heavens and new earth with the way believers live now:
“Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness... But according to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.” (vv. 11, 13, ESV)
Peter’s logic is clear: if this world is temporary and the next one is eternal, then live today in light of tomorrow. Let your life now reflect the values of the Kingdom that is coming.
The resurrection of Jesus guarantees the renewal of all things. Not just spiritual things, but physical things. Not just human souls, but the whole of creation. The new creation will be a world without suffering, without injustice, without death.
And here’s the miracle: you don’t have to wait for that day to begin living like you belong to it.
Easter People Live Different Lives
The resurrection means we are no longer defined by the world’s expectations. We don’t live by fear. We don’t measure success by status. We don’t find identity in performance. We find life in Christ—and in Him alone.
Walking in newness of life means:
We forgive those who wrong us.
We speak hope instead of despair.
We serve instead of seeking to be served.
We offer peace in a world of conflict.
Resurrection people live with resurrection power. That doesn’t mean we’re perfect, but it means we’re different. We are being renewed from the inside out.
Paul says in 2 Corinthians 4:16, “Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” This inner renewal is evidence that the new creation has already begun. You are not waiting to be made new—you are being made new now.
How does this help me understand, “A New Creation?”
Live Like It’s Easter Every Day
Easter is not the end of our journey or even our year. It’s the beginning of new life. Don’t pack away the resurrection with the decorations. Live in it. Breathe in the truth that Jesus is alive, and that His life is in you.
Here are three ways to practice resurrection life this week:
Start each day in gratitude – Before anything else, thank Jesus that He is alive and that you are alive in Him.
Choose one act of resurrection living – Forgive someone, serve without recognition, give generously, or speak words of life.
Tell someone your story – Share how Jesus is changing your life today. Testify to the resurrection not just with words, but with witness.
And above all, remember this:
You are not just waiting for heaven. Heaven has already come to you in Christ. Live like it.
Week #2: A New Community
Blog Series Intention Recap
The resurrection of Jesus is not only the turning point of history—it is the beginning of a new creation. Through His victory over sin and death, Christ offers us new life now and the hope of a renewed world to come. This series explores how the resurrection transforms our hearts, reshapes our communities, and reorients our hope toward the restoration of all things. As we live into the reality of Easter, we become living signs of the world God is making new.
This post is the main page of the series “New Creation.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #2:
The People of the Future… The church is God’s preview of the new creation—a Spirit-filled community living out heaven’s values on earth. Live as part of God’s new humanity by building relationships marked by grace, generosity, and gospel-centered unity.
Why it Matters:
The early church modeled the character of the coming Kingdom (Acts 2).
Christ tore down dividing walls to form a new people (Ephesians 2).
The church embodies God's plan to reconcile all things in Christ.
When the church lives in love and unity, the world sees a foretaste of eternity.
Go Deeper:
The resurrection of Jesus didn’t just create a new kind of individual—it birthed a new kind of community. This people, formed by grace and shaped by the gospel, is the church. Not a social club or a Sunday-only gathering, but the living body of Christ on earth. A colony of heaven planted in a world still aching for renewal.
If week one of this series focused on the individual heart, week two shifts the lens to the corporate body. A renewed heart is never the end goal—God’s vision has always been to form a people for His name. As we await the full arrival of the new creation, the church is meant to be a signpost of that promised future.
The Early Church as a Pattern of the New Creation
Acts 2:42–47 gives us one of the clearest snapshots of the early church:
“And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers… And all who believed were together and had all things in common.” (Acts 2:42, 44, ESV)
This wasn’t a utopian social experiment. It was the natural overflow of resurrection power. These believers were not following a formula—they were following a risen Lord. And their life together mirrored the values of His Kingdom: devotion to the Word, mutual care, shared meals, and radical generosity.
What does it look like when people live as though Christ is truly King? The church answers that question. When God’s people live in resurrection light, something changes: priorities, relationships, time, resources. It becomes clear to the watching world that another Kingdom is at work.
This is why the church is not an optional side project in God’s plan. It is central. Not a holding tank until heaven, but the inbreaking of heaven itself.
A Community Formed by the Cross
The kind of unity seen in Acts 2 is not natural—it is supernatural. In Ephesians 2:13–22, Paul explains how Jesus creates one new humanity out of divided groups:
“But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace… that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace.” (vv. 13–15, ESV)
The cross doesn’t just reconcile us to God; it reconciles us to each other. Ethnic, cultural, and social divisions are demolished in Christ. He is our peace. He doesn’t just preach peace—He creates it.
This vision was radical in Paul’s day. It still is. In a fractured world of echo chambers, tribal loyalties, and cancel culture, the church is called to be radically different. We are not held together by political views, preferences, or personalities, but by the blood of Christ.
Jesus didn’t die to create a collection of saved individuals. He died to create a family—one new man, one body, one temple, one Spirit. Unity in the church is not just desirable; it is essential to our witness (John 17:21).
The Church as a Foretaste of What’s to Come
When Paul describes the church in Ephesians 2:19–22, he uses temple language:
“In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.” (v. 22, ESV)
We are not just a people—together we are a place. A place where heaven touches earth. A temple not made of stone but of saints, where the Spirit dwells.
This means the church is not just a preview of the new creation—it is a participant in it. When we forgive one another, bear burdens, and worship in unity, we are not acting out a play—we are living reality. We are stepping into the world God is making new.
Too often, the church is treated as outdated, irrelevant, or merely institutional. But biblically, the church is the living testimony of God’s future in the present. When we live in light of the resurrection, we show the world that a better world is coming—and that it's already breaking in.
Our Call: To Live Like Citizens of a New World
The challenge is this: will we live as though the resurrection really happened? If we believe Jesus is alive, then we must live like people who belong to Him. That means more than Sunday attendance. It means reorienting our lives around the gospel and one another.
We prioritize relationships over preferences.
We commit to grace when it’s easier to cancel.
We choose sacrifice when the world chases self.
We model reconciliation in a culture of division.
In Philippians 3:20, Paul reminds us, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” That heavenly citizenship is not a future status—it is a present identity. We live as ambassadors of the age to come, embedded in this world with the values of the next.
The church is not perfect. We are flawed, frail, and still growing. But we are also forgiven, Spirit-filled, and called. Our unity is our witness. Our love is our apologetic. Our shared life is our mission.
How does this help me understand, “A New Creation?”
Be the Preview
What would happen if your local church truly lived like a resurrection community? What if the world could see the values of Christ in your small group, your leadership team, your hospitality, your forgiveness?
This week, take one simple step toward community:
Invite someone over for a meal.
Serve a church member quietly and generously.
Pray for reconciliation where there’s tension.
Choose love where the world expects self-protection.
Ask God to help you live not only as a new person, but as part of His new people. Because the resurrection isn’t just something we celebrate individually—it’s something we live together.
The world longs for hope. When the church lives as God’s renewed community, it becomes a living preview of the new creation that’s coming. May we be that people.
Week #1: A New Heart
Blog Series Intention Recap
The resurrection of Jesus is not only the turning point of history—it is the beginning of a new creation. Through His victory over sin and death, Christ offers us new life now and the hope of a renewed world to come. This series explores how the resurrection transforms our hearts, reshapes our communities, and reorients our hope toward the restoration of all things. As we live into the reality of Easter, we become living signs of the world God is making new.
This post is the main page of the series “New Creation.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #1:
It Starts in the Heart… The new creation begins with a new heart, transformed by the Spirit and aligned with the life of Christ. Ask the Holy Spirit to cleanse, soften, and renew your heart so that you can live as a citizen of the world to come.
Why it Matters:
God promises to remove our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh (Ezekiel 36).
Jesus describes this transformation as being “born again” by the Spirit (John 3).
True change begins inwardly, not through self-effort but divine renewal.
A renewed heart leads to renewed living—a foretaste of the new creation.
Go Deeper:
When God speaks of renewal, He does not start with systems or societies—He starts with hearts. Before the new heaven and new earth descend, God begins His transformative work deep within the human soul. In the language of the prophets, what must change first is not the world around us but the heart within us.
In Ezekiel 36:25–27, the Lord makes a breathtaking promise to His people:
"I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules." (ESV)
This prophetic vision points beyond Israel’s physical restoration to a deeper spiritual reality—a heart surgery only God can perform. The "new heart" is not just metaphorical improvement; it is spiritual resurrection. A heart of stone—cold, unfeeling, resistant—is exchanged for a heart of flesh—responsive, warm, and alive to God. This is the core of God’s new creation project.
The Heart Is the Starting Point of God’s Renewal
Biblically, the heart is not merely emotional—it is the control center of life: the seat of desire, will, and intention. Proverbs 4:23 reminds us, "Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life." To change the heart is to alter the very direction of a person’s existence.
God doesn't ask us to renovate our old hearts. He offers to replace them entirely. Ezekiel's imagery of cleansing water and a new spirit finds its fulfillment in Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus in John 3. When Nicodemus, a teacher of Israel, approaches Jesus by night, Jesus tells him:
"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God" (John 3:3, ESV).
Nicodemus is stunned. But Jesus clarifies: the birth He speaks of is not physical—it is spiritual. Being born again is not optional; it is essential. The old self, dead in sin, must be replaced by a new self, alive by the Spirit.
The Spirit of God Causes the Change We Cannot Produce
We live in a culture that prizes self-improvement. Books, strategies, and habits all promise to help us become our best selves. But Scripture declares that only the Spirit of God can make us new. Ezekiel 36 promises not just a new heart but the indwelling of the Holy Spirit—“I will put my Spirit within you.”
Paul echoes this in Titus 3:5:
"He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit."
Regeneration is God’s act of re-creating a person from the inside out. We do not cause it; we receive it. Like the wind Jesus describes in John 3:8, the Spirit moves invisibly but powerfully, bringing dead hearts to life.
The human heart can become hard—hardened by sin, bitterness, unbelief, or pride. But God's mercy breaks through. His Spirit doesn’t just modify behavior; He creates new desires, affections, and loyalties. The law, once external, is now written on the heart.
The Fruit of a New Heart Is a New Way of Living
When God gives a new heart, it always leads to a new life. As Ezekiel puts it, “I will cause you to walk in my statutes.” This is not coercion—it is transformation. A new heart doesn’t resist God’s ways but delights in them.
This echoes the Apostle Paul's teaching in Romans 6. Those who are united to Christ in His death and resurrection now walk in "newness of life" (Romans 6:4). The old has passed away; behold, the new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17).
Spiritual renewal always bears visible fruit—peace where there was once anxiety, love where there was once hatred, obedience where there was once rebellion. The new heart is not merely an internal reality; it spills over into how we speak, serve, and steward our lives.
As the world longs for external renewal—political, economic, environmental—the church must remember: God’s new creation begins inside His people. It is our changed lives, shaped by resurrection power, that point to the greater renewal coming when Christ returns.
Our New Heart Is a Preview of the New World
Easter reminds us that Christ is risen, the firstfruits of the new creation. But the renewal He inaugurated through His resurrection has already begun in every believer. The new heart is a down payment on the new heaven and new earth.
Paul calls believers “new creations” in 2 Corinthians 5:17 not merely as a metaphor but as an identity rooted in reality. We are citizens of a coming Kingdom, and our hearts already beat with its values.
When we forgive, love, and walk humbly with God, we are not escaping the world—we are embodying what the world is becoming. The new creation is not escapism; it is realism. God is making all things new, and He begins with you.
How does this help me understand, “A New Creation?”
Living from the Inside Out
If you want to live as a new creation, don’t start by modifying your behavior—start by surrendering your heart.
The truth of Easter is not merely that Jesus rose from the dead, but that through His resurrection, we too are raised into a new way of life. And that life begins when God gives us a new heart. This is not behavior reform or personality adjustment. It is regeneration—the supernatural, Spirit-empowered miracle of inner resurrection.
Begin by acknowledging the areas of your life where you still feel spiritually numb or resistant—those places where your heart feels more like stone than flesh. Ask God not merely to improve those areas, but to remake them. As Psalm 139:23–24 encourages us:
“Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!” (ESV)
Invite the Holy Spirit to do what only He can do:
Cleanse you where you’ve been defiled.
Soften you where you’ve grown hard.
Heal you where you’ve been wounded.
Awaken you where you’ve grown sleepy.
Align your desires with Christ’s desires.
Ask yourself: Have I surrendered my heart to the renewing work of the Holy Spirit? Am I trying to change my life without inviting God to change my heart?
This week, pray Ezekiel 36:26 each morning:
“Father, take my heart of stone and give me a heart of flesh. Fill me with Your Spirit so that I walk in Your ways today.”
As you pray, remember that the promise of a new heart is not a vague possibility—it is a guaranteed outcome for those who are in Christ. It is God’s delight to fulfill His promise. And it is your joy to walk in it.
The world is watching for signs of something better. May they see it in you. Because the new creation starts not with politics, programs, or power—but with people whose hearts have been made new by the risen Christ.
New Creation
Blog Series Intention Recap
The resurrection of Jesus is not only the turning point of history—it is the beginning of a new creation. Through His victory over sin and death, Christ offers us new life now and the hope of a renewed world to come. This series explores how the resurrection transforms our hearts, reshapes our communities, and reorients our hope toward the restoration of all things. As we live into the reality of Easter, we become living signs of the world God is making new.
This post is the main page of the series “New Creation.”
Week #4: From Shame to Freedom: When the Gospel Heals
Blog Series Intention Recap
The gospel is not just the good news that saves us—it’s the good news that shapes us. Many believers stop at justification, forgetting that Jesus invites us into ongoing renewal. Each week, we’ll explore how the gospel breathes new life into our growth, peace, love, healing, and mission. The journey doesn’t end at salvation; it begins there.
This post is the main page of the series “Fresh Air.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #4:
Your Past Is Not the End of the Story… Jesus didn’t come to condemn us but to restore us. In the story of the sinful woman and Simon the Pharisee, we see how the gospel meets both pride and pain with forgiveness and freedom. Our past doesn’t disqualify us—it becomes the canvas for grace. God’s healing begins when we let His love in. This week, write down one regret or wound you’ve kept hidden. Offer it to Jesus in prayer. Then tell a trusted friend or spiritual mentor what God is doing in you. Freedom begins with honesty.
Why it Matters:
The gospel confronts our past with compassion, not condemnation.
God’s love sees what others shame and still invites us in.
Forgiveness flows from recognizing how much we’ve been forgiven.
Our healing begins when we surrender, not when we pretend.
Go Deeper:
Luke 7:47 (ESV): "Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little."
The story in Luke 7:36–50 is one of the most striking scenes in Jesus’s ministry. It begins with an invitation to dinner and ends with a declaration of forgiveness.
A Pharisee named Simon invites Jesus to his home, perhaps out of curiosity or duty. While Jesus reclines at the table, a woman known only by her reputation enters. She weeps at His feet, wipes them with her hair, and anoints them with perfume.
Everyone knows who she is. Everyone but Jesus seems uncomfortable.
Grace Interrupts Our Shame
This woman knew what it felt like to be judged. She was likely excluded, gossiped about, and dismissed. But she came anyway. Why? Because she had heard about Jesus—and believed His love was greater than her reputation.
Simon is quick to judge: "If this man were a prophet, he would have known what sort of woman this is" (Luke 7:39). But Jesus turns the tables.
Jesus doesn't shame her. He welcomes her. Her tears are not a scandal; they’re sacred. Her presence is not a threat; it’s a testimony.
The gospel does not deny our sin—it defeats its power. Where shame says, "Stay away," grace says, "Come closer."
The Gospel Makes Room for the Broken
Jesus tells a short parable: two people owed money—one much more than the other. Both were forgiven. Which one loves more? Simon answers correctly: the one who had the greater debt.
Then Jesus turns to the woman and does something extraordinary. He contrasts her love with Simon’s lack. "You gave me no water... no kiss... no oil. But she has not ceased to show love."
The point isn’t to embarrass Simon but to awaken him. Gospel healing is available to all—but only the broken will receive it.
Healing starts with humility.
Forgiveness Awakens Love
Jesus says of the woman, "Her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much" (v. 47). Love is not the payment—it's the proof.
We do not earn God’s forgiveness with emotion or effort. We receive it by faith, and it changes us. Gratitude becomes affection. Forgiveness becomes love.
The woman’s act of devotion flows from a heart that knows mercy. Gospel healing is not just the removal of guilt—it’s the birth of worship.
Psalm 103:12 (ESV): "As far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us."
Healing Begins When We Surrender
Jesus closes the moment with tender clarity: "Your sins are forgiven... Your faith has saved you; go in peace" (vv. 48, 50).
Peace. That’s what she came looking for. And that’s what the gospel gives.
When we surrender our past to Jesus—our wounds, our pride, our guilt—He doesn’t meet us with cold distance. He meets us with healing love.
Real healing doesn’t come from hiding our shame. It comes from placing it at Jesus’s feet.
How does this help me understand, “Fresh Air?”
Let Grace Rewrite Your Story
Every one of us is either Simon or the woman. Either we hide behind pride or we kneel in humility. The gospel invites us out of hiding.
Jesus does not flinch from your past. He knows it all and still offers you freedom.
That’s the power of the gospel. It takes the places of greatest pain and makes them testimonies of grace. The gospel doesn’t deny your story—it redeems it.
This week, let Jesus speak peace over your shame. Let Him rewrite your story.
Luke 7:50 (ESV): "And he said to the woman, 'Your faith has saved you; go in peace.'"
Week #3: Love Without Limits: Living the Gospel Way
Blog Series Intention Recap
The gospel is not just the good news that saves us—it’s the good news that shapes us. Many believers stop at justification, forgetting that Jesus invites us into ongoing renewal. Each week, we’ll explore how the gospel breathes new life into our growth, peace, love, healing, and mission. The journey doesn’t end at salvation; it begins there.
This post is the main page of the series “Fresh Air.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #3:
How to Love the Unlovable Without Losing Yourself… The gospel defines love through the cross: sacrificial, self-giving, and unconditional. While the world offers love that flatters or fails, God offers a love that frees and transforms. Jesus didn’t wait for us to be lovable—He loved us while we were still sinners. Through the gospel, we learn to love in ways that give life without draining it. Ask the Holy Spirit to show you someone who is hard to love. Instead of avoiding them, pray for them daily this week. Look for one practical way to show them the same kind of love Christ has shown you.
Why it Matters:
God loved us at our worst to show what real love looks like.
The gospel empowers us to love others without conditions.
Sacrificial love is not self-destructive when grounded in grace.
We don’t love to be accepted—we love because we’ve already been accepted.
Go Deeper:
Romans 5:8 (ESV): "But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
This is the gospel: love before change, love before obedience, love before lovability. God’s love is not reactive. It’s proactive. In a culture where love is often transactional, God gives us a new way.
Real Love Begins at the Cross
In Romans 5:6 (ESV), Paul writes, "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly." The timing matters. Christ didn’t wait for strength. He moved in compassion when we were at our weakest.
That’s how God loves. And it’s how we’re called to love.
The gospel doesn’t just save us from sin. It shows us the nature of love. A love that gives before it gets. A love that sacrifices without condition. A love that doesn’t depend on the other person’s behavior to be valid.
This kind of love isn’t cheap—it’s costly. But in the gospel, it’s also sustaining.
Loving Others Like Christ Loved Us
Jesus said, "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you" (John 15:12, ESV). That is the measure and the method.
We don’t get to decide who deserves our love. The gospel takes away favoritism and replaces it with faithfulness.
This doesn’t mean enabling sin or tolerating abuse. Boundaries are biblical. But even boundaries can be drawn with grace.
The gospel calls us to love people as they are—without endorsing every action or agreeing with every word. Love is not approval. Love is pursuit.
Love That Doesn’t Burn Out
The love described in the gospel isn’t something we conjure up with willpower. It’s poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit.
Romans 5:5 (ESV): "God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."
We cannot sustain gospel love on our own. That’s why so many people get compassion fatigue. They try to love like Christ without living in Christ.
When we abide in Jesus, He fills us again and again with love that gives without exhausting, serves without resenting, and sacrifices without bitterness.
Love Is the Mark of Gospel Community
1 John 4:7 (ESV): "Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God."
When a church truly believes the gospel, love becomes its culture. Not just kindness, but cross-shaped compassion. Not just friendliness, but sacrificial faithfulness.
Gospel love creates safe places for sinners to grow. It welcomes the stranger, bears with the difficult, and serves without expecting applause.
This kind of love cannot be faked. It flows from a deep conviction that we have been loved first and best by God Himself.
How does this help me understand, “Fresh Air?”
We Love Because He Loved First
The world defines love by how it feels. The gospel defines love by what it gives.
If you wait to feel like loving someone, you may never start. But if you remember how Christ loved you, you’ll never run out of reasons.
True love doesn’t ask, "Do they deserve it?" It asks, "What has Christ done for me?"
So let us love with strength, not sentimentality. Let us love with the energy the Spirit provides. Let us love even the unlovable—not because it’s easy, but because it’s gospel.
Love like that changes people. And it changes us too.
1 John 4:19 (ESV): "We love because he first loved us."
That’s the fresh air we breathe.
Special Edition: Gospel Fire: How the Good News Empowered St. Patrick
Blog Series Intention Recap
The gospel is not just the good news that saves us—it’s the good news that shapes us. Many believers stop at justification, forgetting that Jesus invites us into ongoing renewal. Each week, we’ll explore how the gospel breathes new life into our growth, peace, love, healing, and mission. The journey doesn’t end at salvation; it begins there.
This post is the main page of the series “Fresh Air.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into the Special Week:
From Captive to Missionary: The Gospel That Carried St. Patrick… St. Patrick’s life was shaped by hardship, but empowered by the gospel. The same good news that rescued him from despair gave him the courage to return to his captors as a bearer of Christ’s love. The gospel doesn’t just save us—it sends us. Patrick’s story reminds us that gospel transformation leads to gospel mission. Think of a place or relationship where fear or pain once held you captive. Ask the Lord how He might be sending you back—not to relive the pain, but to carry His love. Like Patrick, let your past become the field for your mission.
Why it Matters:
The gospel strengthened St. Patrick through both suffering and calling.
God transformed a former slave into a Spirit-led missionary.
Gospel courage is rooted in God’s presence, not personal power.
Patrick’s story invites us to let the gospel send us into hard places with hope.
Go Deeper:
A Slave in a Strange Land
Patrick wasn’t Irish. He was born in Britain in the late 4th century to a Christian family, the son of a deacon. But his early faith was casual, and his heart far from God. At age sixteen, Irish raiders kidnapped him and sold him into slavery in Ireland. For six years, Patrick tended sheep in isolation, fear, and hunger.
It was there, on the hills of a foreign land, that Patrick found the presence of Christ.
He wrote later, "More and more did the love of God, and my fear of Him and faith increase." The gospel took root in him during suffering. He began to pray—constantly. And in time, he encountered God in a way that would change the rest of his life.
Called by the Voice of God
After six years, Patrick had a dream. A voice said, "You are going home. Look, your ship is ready." He escaped captivity, made the treacherous journey home, and reunited with his family. Yet the gospel had done something too deep to ignore. His heart burned for the people who had once enslaved him.
He had another vision—this time of an Irish man calling out: "We appeal to you, holy servant boy, to come and walk among us again."
The gospel that comforted Patrick in captivity now compelled him to return as a missionary. God’s call came not through comfort, but through compassion. Patrick obeyed.
The Gospel That Sends
Patrick was not sent by Rome. He wasn’t formally educated. He was mocked by others for his lack of eloquence. But Patrick had the gospel—and the Spirit of God.
In the years that followed, Patrick baptized thousands. He confronted kings and idol-worship. He wrote prayers, trained leaders, and modeled humility. His mission was not political—it was pastoral. He sought not to control Ireland, but to serve it.
He wrote, "I am a sinner, a simple country person... but I am what I am by the grace of God."
That is gospel clarity: knowing that our identity is not in who we were, or even in what we do—but in Christ.
Gospel Courage in a Hostile World
The Ireland Patrick returned to was dangerous. He faced threats to his life, rejection by local leaders, and the ever-present fear of violence. But his courage came from his conviction that God was with him.
He wrote one of the most famous prayers in Christian history, now called St. Patrick’s Breastplate. It opens with these lines:
"I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, through belief in the Threeness, through confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation."
Patrick didn’t just believe in the gospel—he breathed it. It shaped how he walked into danger, how he endured rejection, and how he kept returning to the work God gave him.
How does this help me understand, “Fresh Air?”
From the Past to the Present
Patrick’s story is not just a relic of Christian history. It’s a reminder that the gospel is living and active. It moves us to forgive those who’ve hurt us. It calls us into hard places with a message of hope. It turns our captivity into calling.
Patrick once was lost, then found. Once enslaved, then sent. His story is a reflection of the gospel itself—death and resurrection, fear and faith, captivity and calling.
Let us walk in the same pattern.
Like Patrick, may we:
Listen when God speaks
Return to those we once feared
Trust in the presence of the Spirit
Let the gospel reshape our lives into a mission field
Romans 1:16 (ESV) says, "For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes..."
That same gospel power still works today.
May it renew, revive, and send us—just like it did for St. Patrick.
Week #2: True Peace: What the Gospel Says About Shalom
Blog Series Intention Recap
The gospel is not just the good news that saves us—it’s the good news that shapes us. Many believers stop at justification, forgetting that Jesus invites us into ongoing renewal. Each week, we’ll explore how the gospel breathes new life into our growth, peace, love, healing, and mission. The journey doesn’t end at salvation; it begins there.
This post is the main page of the series “Fresh Air.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #2:
Peace Isn’t Quiet: Why the Gospel Leads Us Into the Storm… Jesus offers a kind of peace the world cannot manufacture. His peace doesn’t hide from pain or pretend everything is fine. Instead, gospel peace restores what is broken and equips us to step into chaos with confidence. This kind of peace doesn’t silence trouble—it redeems it. This week, choose one area of conflict in your life and ask Jesus to bring His kind of peace into it. Don’t look for escape. Look for restoration. Be the first to listen, forgive, or step toward healing.
Why it Matters:
Jesus gives peace not as the world gives.
Peace in the gospel is about restoration, not escapism.
God’s peace is active—it equips us to face life, not flee from it.
We are called to be peacemakers, not peacekeepers.
Go Deeper:
John 14:27 (ESV): "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid."
These words were spoken by Jesus on the night before His crucifixion. Knowing that He would be betrayed, arrested, tortured, and killed, Jesus turns to comfort His disciples. He doesn’t promise them comfort in the form of avoidance. He doesn’t promise ease or safety. He offers them peace—His peace.
This moment shows us something essential about the gospel: the peace Jesus gives is not defined by the absence of difficulty. It is defined by the presence of God.
Jesus Gives Peace Unlike the World
When people talk about peace today, they often mean a kind of numbness. They want the quiet that comes from being untouched by conflict, untouched by pain, untouched by others. But this is not peace. It’s avoidance. It’s escape.
Jesus explicitly contrasts His peace with the world’s version: "Not as the world gives do I give to you." What kind of peace does the world offer? The world offers distraction. Temporary relief. The illusion of control. But it cannot offer wholeness.
The Hebrew concept of peace—shalom—is much more than calmness. Shalom is about restoration, fullness, completion. It’s about things being made right.
Jesus gives shalom because He is the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6). Through the gospel, He restores our relationship with God and sets us on the path to wholeness in every part of life.
Gospel Peace Is Restoration, Not Escape
In John 14:1 (ESV), Jesus says, "Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me." This is not a command to deny reality. It’s an invitation to trust a deeper reality.
In the middle of heartbreak, Jesus reminds His disciples of the Father’s house—many rooms, prepared places, eternal promises. Gospel peace doesn't remove us from pain; it roots us in hope. It sees the brokenness of the world but is not overcome by it.
Jesus doesn’t escape the cross. He walks into it. And from it, resurrection comes. Gospel peace doesn’t run from the hard things—it redeems them.
Colossians 1:20 (ESV) speaks of Jesus reconciling "all things to himself, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross." That is costly peace. Restorative peace. Not the world’s kind.
Jesus does not leave His followers defenseless. In John 14:26, He promises the Holy Spirit as our Helper. Gospel peace is not passive—it’s powered by the Spirit.
The Spirit teaches, reminds, comforts, and empowers. We do not walk through storms with empty hands. We walk with God.
God’s peace is not just comfort in crisis; it’s courage to continue. In Philippians 4:6–7, Paul writes, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God... will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
Peace that guards us. That holds us. That goes with us. This is gospel peace.
We Are Called to Be Peacemakers, Not Peacekeepers
Jesus blesses the peacemakers in Matthew 5:9: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God."
Notice the word: peacemakers. Not peacekeepers. Peacekeeping avoids conflict. Peacemaking steps into it for the sake of healing.
To make peace means to work toward restoration where things are broken. In marriages, in friendships, in churches, in communities. Peacemakers speak truth in love. They absorb offense. They forgive. They go first.
The gospel doesn’t just give us peace with God—it teaches us how to extend it to others.
Romans 12:18 (ESV) challenges us: "If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all."
This doesn’t mean we will always succeed, but it means we must always try.
How does this help me understand, “Fresh Air?”
Jesus Is Our Peace
When Jesus promises peace in John 14, He’s not offering a product. He’s offering Himself.
Peace is not a mood. It’s not a moment. It’s a person. Ephesians 2:14 (ESV) says, "For he himself is our peace."
He is our peace in the pain. Our peace in the waiting. Our peace in the questions. Through the gospel, we receive not just a future hope but a present companion.
And because He lives, we can live differently.
So let your heart be untroubled—not because life is easy, but because Christ is near. Receive His peace. Carry it with you. And offer it to others.
That’s the fresh air of the gospel: not a breeze that blows our troubles away, but the breath of Christ that strengthens us to walk through them with hope.
Week #1: Still Growing: How Jesus Shows Us the Way
Blog Series Intention Recap
The gospel is not just the good news that saves us—it’s the good news that shapes us. Many believers stop at justification, forgetting that Jesus invites us into ongoing renewal. Each week, we’ll explore how the gospel breathes new life into our growth, peace, love, healing, and mission. The journey doesn’t end at salvation; it begins there.
This post is the main page of the series “Fresh Air.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.
Let’s jump into Week #1:
Why Spiritual Growth Starts with a Question… Jesus did not rush into ministry. He grew, listened, and asked questions. The gospel teaches us that growing in faith is not just about doing big things, but about seeking wisdom in small, consistent ways. If even the Son of God made time to grow, then we must too. Make space this week to listen—to Scripture, to the Spirit, and to wise believers in your community. Growth begins when we humbly ask, seek, and stay present with God.
Why it Matters:
Even Jesus took time to grow spiritually and physically.
The gospel invites us to grow in wisdom through listening and learning.
Growth is a process that happens in community, not isolation.
To grow spiritually, we must intentionally seek God’s wisdom.
Go Deeper:
Luke 2:52 (ESV) says, "And Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man." These words may feel small, tucked at the end of a story about a twelve-year-old boy in the temple, but they carry great weight. Jesus did not arrive at adulthood fully formed in every human sense. He grew.
This simple truth shapes the foundation of the gospel's ongoing power in our lives after we are justified. We are saved in a moment, yes—but we are shaped over time. The Good News is not only for the day we believe, but also for every day we walk forward from that moment. The gospel is our fresh air. We need it to live, breathe, and grow.
Jesus Grew On Purpose
The only story from Jesus’ childhood in the Gospels (Luke 2:41–52) reveals a boy who was curious, hungry for knowledge, and obedient to God. When His parents finally found Him after three days of searching, Jesus was in the temple, "sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions" (Luke 2:46).
Jesus did not just teach—He first listened. He did not just know—He asked. The gospel reminds us that even the Son of God chose a path of growth.
Growth is not accidental. It requires intention. It requires us to sit, to stay, to be still long enough to hear God speak. The life of discipleship begins with ears open, not mouths.
Proverbs 4:7 (ESV) tells us, "The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom, and whatever you get, get insight." Our culture values speaking up, being right, and moving fast. But the gospel draws us in a different direction. It invites us to slow down and listen—to God and to others.
The Gospel Teaches Us to Learn
Discipleship is not just about doing—it’s about becoming. And becoming requires a pattern of learning and unlearning. Jesus spent time in the synagogue not just proclaiming truth but absorbing it, in conversation and community.
When we come to Christ, we are reborn (John 3:3). But as newborns, we are not yet mature. The apostle Peter encourages believers: "Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation—if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good" (1 Peter 2:2–3, ESV).
The gospel reminds us we are not finished products. Salvation is the doorway, not the driveway. Through it, we enter a life of learning: not a lonely path of self-discovery but a shared journey of transformation.
Spiritual Growth Happens in Community
Luke 2 shows us that Jesus was part of a larger faith community. He journeyed with His family to Jerusalem, participated in the Feast, and engaged with the temple teachers. The setting of His growth was not isolation, but connection.
The gospel places us into a body. Romans 12:5 (ESV) says, "So we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another." We grow by being in proximity to others who follow Jesus. We listen, we speak, we confess, we encourage.
Christian growth is never merely personal; it is relational. The more we root ourselves in gospel-centered community, the more we mirror the posture of Jesus—who both learned from and submitted to others.
Seeking Wisdom Is a Gospel Practice
Jesus stayed behind in the temple to seek wisdom. His parents didn’t understand, but He knew He was about His Father's business. The pursuit of wisdom is not rebellion—it’s devotion.
The gospel doesn’t just tell us we are saved; it shows us how to live wisely. Paul prayed that believers would be "filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding" (Colossians 1:9, ESV).
Spiritual maturity doesn’t mean we have all the answers. It means we know where to go with our questions. The gospel trains our hearts to seek God’s wisdom daily, in the Scriptures and among His people.
How does this help me understand, “Fresh Air?”
The Gospel Is Our Growth Guide
The question "Do I need the gospel after justification?" finds its answer in Jesus’ early years. If He grew, so must we. And if He grew by listening, learning, and seeking, we can too.
Justification is the start, not the stop. Through the gospel, we breathe new life every day. We are not only saved—we are sanctified. Not only born again—but being renewed.
Let us return to the gospel each morning, not just as a memory of salvation but as the breath in our lungs and the light on our path. Jesus shows us how.
Fresh Air
Blog Series Intention Recap
The gospel is not just the good news that saves us—it’s the good news that shapes us. Many believers stop at justification, forgetting that Jesus invites us into ongoing renewal. Each week, we’ll explore how the gospel breathes new life into our growth, peace, love, healing, and mission. The journey doesn’t end at salvation; it begins there.
This post is the main page of the series “Fresh Air”