What if the way we’ve imagined God… is off?

In this message, we step into Palm Sunday—a moment where two very different pictures of power enter the same city. One built on force, control, and fear. The other quiet, unexpected, and easy to miss.

Jesus doesn’t just challenge political power. He challenges how we imagine God.

If God looks like Jesus, then power, authority, and even peace may not be what we thought they were.

Lent brings us to this turning point—

where we’re invited to reconsider what we’ve believed,

and learn to see God more clearly.

What do you do when God doesn’t show up the way you expected?

In this message, we step into the story of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus—a story filled with urgency, disappointment, and unanswered questions. Jesus is close enough to help, but he doesn’t come. And the silence leaves people asking the question many of us have asked: Where were you?

This moment sits right on the edge of something bigger. But before anything changes, there is grief, confusion, and the weight of not understanding.

Lent doesn’t rush past those moments.

It invites us to stay with them.

To sit with the questions.

To acknowledge the disappointment.

And to consider what it means that God is present, even here.

Why didn’t the disciples understand what Jesus was doing?

Even after hearing his teaching, watching his miracles, and sitting with him at the Last Supper, they were still arguing about who would be the greatest.

In this message, we step into the world of the Roman Empire to understand why. The entire system of Rome was built on hierarchy—power, status, and honor flowing from the top down. It shaped how people saw the world, how they understood success, and even how they imagined God’s kingdom.

But Jesus was revealing something radically different.

The kingdom of God isn’t built on power over others. It’s a kingdom where the greatest becomes the servant and where the one with all authority kneels to wash feet.

On this third Sunday of Lent, the ancient prayer of the church is simple:

God, help me see.

Why didn’t the disciples understand what Jesus was doing?

Even after hearing his teaching, watching his miracles, and sitting with him at the Last Supper, they were still arguing about who would be the greatest.

In this message, we step into the world of the Roman Empire to understand why. The entire system of Rome was built on hierarchy—power, status, and honor flowing from the top down. It shaped how people saw the world, how they understood success, and even how they imagined God’s kingdom.

But Jesus was revealing something radically different.

The kingdom of God isn’t built on power over others. It’s a kingdom where the greatest becomes the servant and where the one with all authority kneels to wash feet.

On this third Sunday of Lent, the ancient prayer of the church is simple:

God, help me see.

Every culture has a story about power.

The victors write history. The strong rise. The important take the seat at the table.

But in this second week of Lent, we’re invited to remember a different kind of story.

At a Passover table, Jesus does something no one expected. In a room full of arguments about who is greatest, he kneels. Then he takes a cup and reframes everything they thought they understood about redemption.

Lent is a season of remembering.

Remembering what real strength looks like.

Remembering who God is.

Remembering what kind of life we’re actually being invited into.

What happens when everything starts to fall apart?

We begin Lent 2026 with a story about a public mistake, a quiet interruption, and a surprising sign.

This message explores what Jesus is like in moments of exposure — and what that might mean for us as we enter this season.

If you’re carrying something heavy…

Or if you think you’ve got things figured out…

This might be the right place to start.

This message concludes our seven-week series exploring the questions that quietly shape our lives.

In Part 7, we wrestle with the final question: Do I have a purpose?

For many of us, purpose feels tied to achievement, calling, or dramatic moments. But this teaching reframes the conversation. Purpose isn’t something we discover by escaping our ordinary lives. It’s something we live out in them.

Tracing the story from Genesis through Jesus, we’re reminded that even in fracture—work that feels exhausting, family that feels complicated, relationships that feel tense—God does not disappear. He leans in. He clothes. He renews.

Purpose is not about title, platform, or accomplishment.

It’s rooted in identity.

You are a child of God.

And your purpose is lived in loving God and loving your neighbor—right where you are.

This message continues a seven-week series exploring the questions that shape how we see ourselves and God.

In Part 6, we face one of the most painful questions many of us carry beneath failure, comparison, and performance: Am I good enough?

This teaching names shame for what it is—not guilt over what we’ve done, but a belief that something is wrong with who we are.

Through personal story, Scripture, and Jesus’ encounters with people caught in shame, we’re invited to see how shame isolates, hides, and convinces us we need to disappear. But Jesus consistently does something different. He separates identity from behavior, meets vulnerability with grace, and restores people to belonging before they ever get their words right.

The answer Jesus offers is not “try harder.”

It’s a deeper truth: I am good enough.

Not because I’ve earned it, but because grace meets me where I am.

This message continues a seven-week series built around the questions that quietly shape our lives.

In Part 5, we explore a question many of us carry beneath our drive and ambition: Am I successful?

Through personal story, cultural reflection, and Scripture, this teaching examines how success becomes tangled with worth—and how failure can feel like a threat to belonging itself.

Drawing from Jesus’ words in John 15 and wisdom from Ecclesiastes, we’re invited to untangle who we are from what we do. Success, Jesus suggests, isn’t something we achieve through striving. It’s something that grows when we remain connected to love—like a branch connected to a vine.

The invitation isn’t to stop working or dreaming.

It’s to release shame, loosen our grip on performance, and rediscover success as a way of living from love, not striving for it.

This message continues a seven-week series centered on the questions that shape how we see ourselves, God, and one another.

In Part 4, we wrestle with a deeply human question: Am I wanted?

Not just tolerated. Not useful. But genuinely wanted—for who we are, not what we contribute.

Tracing this question through the Old Testament, the life of Jesus, and the early church, this teaching challenges the idea that belonging is earned through success, strength, or religious performance. Instead, it reveals a different starting point: belonging as identity. You belong because you are human. Because you are created. Because you are seen.

Jesus disrupts every system that decides who’s in and who’s out—and invites us into a community where belonging comes first, and transformation follows.

The point isn’t change.

The point is belonging.

Change grows from there.

This message continues a seven-week series exploring the questions that quietly shape how we live.

In Part 3, we turn to one of the most personal questions we carry: Am I loved?

Not as an abstract idea, but as a lived reality—felt in moments when we wonder if anyone really sees us, hears us, or knows us.

This teaching explores how the desire to be loved is often expressed through our need to feel known, seen, and heard—and how, when love feels uncertain, we begin searching for it in ways that leave us exhausted and empty. Drawing from Scripture, story, and lived experience, we’re invited to consider a different starting point: love as something received, not earned.

The invitation isn’t to love harder or perform better.

It’s to stop living on scraps—and begin living from love’s overflow.