The word providence, simply put, means “God’s working in the world.” While the vast majority of Christians believe that God indeed works in the world, if you were to ask for everyday examples of God’s movement, you might be met with silence and a difficulty at naming such a thing. The problem isn’t that God is inactive, it’s that we often do not have the vision to see God’s action. We have failed to open our eyes to the movements of God in the world around us. Similarly, John the Baptist asks Jesus whether he is the “one to come” or if he should keep looking. Jesus’ response is essentially: open your eyes! Look at what God is doing right in front of you! Let us today open our eyes and see what God is doing right in front of us.

The town of Bethlehem was a one-stop-light kind of town where not much happened. Where the sheep grazed upon its hillsides, and the shepherds dreamt of the city life in nearby Jerusalem. From atop Bethlehem's tall, rolling hills, one could see Jerusalem, the city of kings, rising in the distance. And yet, despite the litany of kings that were born within the walls of Jerusalem—king after king after king—it is Bethlehem that hosted the two most notable figures of history. Upon entering the city, you might find a well-worn sign that reads: “Birthplace of King David.” And just below it, “Birthplace of Christ the King.” O little town of Bethlehem, your significance in the course of human history is not lost on us.

History is the long story of a quest for the knowledge of the invisible God. God self-reveals in a variety of ways, especially through scripture and nature. But there is no clearer revelation than the person of Jesus. As Immanuel, “God with us,” Jesus is the “image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15). Jesus is God in the flesh. Jesus is God revealed in His fulness. But Jesus is not the only one said to carry God’s image. According to Genesis 1, all humanity was created in God’s image. And though this image has been misshapen by sin and death, when we see each other rightly, we see the very image of God staring at us. 

The opening line of the Bible, “In the beginning, God created,” is echoed as a future promise in Isaiah 65:17: “For I am about to create.” In both cases, God is a creative type—an artist—who makes something genuinely new out of something that never before existed. Borne out of God’s abundant power and creativity is the world that was Eden, the world that is in the here and now, and the world that is yet to come. To say that God is an artist is to say too little. But to deny that God is an artist is to misunderstand a distinct part of God’s nature. Out of God’s artistic flare springs new realities that you and I could never begin to imagine. In our darkest days, we should never underestimate the potential for hope expressed in the opening words of Isaiah 65:17: “For I am about to create . . .”

In Haggai 2, our passage for today, the prophet is speaking to a group who has spent much of their lives in exile in Babylon only to return to a Jerusalem that is in tatters. Their houses are torn down. The temple is a heap of rubble. And they must begin the rebuilding process. One can only imagine the difficulty of such an endeavor. Surely it is a mixture of joy and anguish. Joy at their return, and anguish at the loss of what once was. What must be going through their minds? What will it take to pick up the pieces of an old life and create something new. In the midst of this God says, “Fear not”, for he has all the world’s resources at his disposal. Peace will reign again, but first we must rebuild.

In Jesus’ parable from Luke 18, we are introduced to two figures, and it appears that we must choose the better option. But neither is really a role model. The Pharisee seems to be; he fasts, tithes regularly, prays and goes to the house of God. But he shows contempt for others. The tax collector seems not to be because of his despised profession, and he praised for his repentance and humility. So what are we to do when Jesus puts two morally deficient examples before us and says: choose.

Over the last few weeks, the stage has been set for one of the most important passages in all of Jeremiah, possibly even all of the OT. (Sorry, it’s not Jeremiah 29:11!) To those living in the time of Jeremiah, it appeared that Israel’s history was coming to a close as Babylonian forces began to destroy the holy land and force its people into exile. Countless other cultures and religions had come and gone with a similar fate. Would Israel be any different? Would God abandon Israel to the dustbin of history? With Israel’s fate hanging in the balance, the prophet Jeremiah steps up to the microphone to speak on behalf of God.

Jeremiah 29 is best known for its eleventh verse: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” This is an inspiring verse that needs a little context. So today we read from the passage leading up to it. Israel is being led into exile in Babylon where Jeremiah tells them they will spend 70 years. While they are waiting on the “future” and “hope” promised, God offers advice: build homes and gardens, keep marrying, seek to enjoy life, seek peace with those who have captured you and pray for them. And in the midst of it all, keep hope because “I have plans for you.”

The book of Habakkuk begins with the prophet addressing God directly, “How long?” How long must he cry for help before God answers? How long must the violence go on before God does something? Before God saves? You can sense frustration in the prophet, as if God weren’t acting fast enough. It’s an honest moment that some readers might find odd, odd that our Scriptures contain such challenges to God. Others might find it comforting. While still others might be unsettled by it. Wherever you fall probably says more about you than the Bible or God, because it’s clear from the whole of Scripture that God is not afraid of our questions. He often invites them. And He typically answers them, even if the answer is not what we expect.

Jeremiah writes as one who has seen the worst tragedy one could possibly imagine. For you such a tragedy might be the death of a loved one, the loss of a job, or ... what? What is your tragedy? For Jeremiah it was the Babylonian army tearing down the temple of Jerusalem, demolishing the walls of the city, and leaving the "city of God" in rubble. But in the midst of such darkness a light shone through. The voice of God came to Jeremiah and told him to purchase a piece of property. God promised that a day would come when the darkness would fade and noonday would shine again. And Jeremiah, standing on God's promise, trusted that God's word would not return void.

Philemon is one of the shortest books in the Bible, and for that reason, it is easy to read in one sitting. And while it doesn't contain a theology of the cross, like Romans or Galatians, and it doesn't contain a theology of the church, like Ephesians, it is a wonderful example of theology-in-action. It is lived theology. It is a theology of the cross or a theology of the church as lived out in the lives of Paul, Philemon, and Onesimus. Let's take a look!

Philemon is one of the shortest books in the Bible, and for that reason, it is easy to read in one sitting. And while it doesn't contain a theology of the cross, like Romans or Galatians, and it doesn't contain a theology of the church, like Ephesians, it is a wonderful example of theology-in-action. It is lived theology. It is a theology of the cross or a theology of the church as lived out in the lives of Paul, Philemon, and Onesimus. Let's take a loo

Philemon is one of the shortest books in the Bible, and for that reason, it is easy to read in one sitting. And while it doesn't contain a theology of the cross, like Romans or Galatians, and it doesn't contain a theology of the church, like Ephesians, it is a wonderful example of theology-in-action. It is lived theology. It is a theology of the cross or a theology of the church as lived out in the lives of Paul, Philemon, and Onesimus. Let's take a look!

Perhaps because we are products of our hyper-individualistic culture, we have a habit of turning the gospel into something individualistic. It goes something like this: the gospel is about how I can get to heaven, and how you can do the same. This, however, does not begin to do justice to what the gospel calls us to. As Jesus preaches over and over, he is summoning us into a “kingdom,” or community, or a new way of living together. When the church is launched in the first century, it is like a laboratory for living out kingdom lives here and now. With this in mind, let’s take another look at our core values at SRBC and how they invite us to participate in the kingdom in the here and now as we await its fulfilment in the age to come.

Every church is unique, just as every individual is unique, every marriage is unique, and every family is unique. There is no doubt that all churches should share some common goals and doctrines and practices, and these commonalities unite us as one body of Christ. But if the last 2000 years are any indication, the church has flourished in a variety of times and places and in a variety of ways that require it to fit the unique nature of a specific time and place. I believe that here at South Run Baptist Church God desires to use our uniqueness for His glory. As we dig into Ephesians chapter 4, let us consider both what is common to all churches and what is our unique calling here at 8712 Selger Drive.

To be human is to desire a place to belong. But belonging is not any old desire. The desire to belong is a longing that is so deep within us that it constitutes an essential part of the human experience. As we explore what it means to be the church, we discover that it is a place where—when done rightly—everyone finds belonging. It is a union of souls into one body, the body of Christ. A union in which our differences are respected, and yet our longing to belong is met in full.

We are in the middle of a series on what it means to be the church. So it is only natural that at some point, we should take notice of what we are doing in the worship service on Sunday mornings. Why do we sing? Why do we collect the offering? Why do we always have a sermon? Why do we do the things we do on a Sunday morning? As it turns out, there are good reasons. Let's explore!

There are any number of shifts that happen from the Old to the New Testament. Of these shifts, one of the more remarkable is that God’s presence is said to be moved from the temple to the people of God, from the heart of Jerusalem to the heart of the believer. The sacred space of the temple, with its sacred instruments and sacred rituals, is transposed onto the life of the believer and the life of the church corporate. It is wholly appropriate to say that the church—the people, not the building—is a sacred people; and, yet, too often we are willing to settle for the church—the building, not the people—to be that which is sacred. What would it mean for you if you lived a sacred life as part of a sacred body of believers?

In Ephesians, Paul does not shy away from making bold claims about the power available to the church. He says that God “is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think” (3:20). But do we believe this? Do we have faith? When living as Christians requires little of us (as it often does in our 21st century, American context), it is possible to live small lives, timid toward God, and always moderating the risks and rewards of lived faith. Paul had no such “luxury” in 1st century Rome, where he was largely ostracized by both Jews and Romans. The two choices he had were either to abandon faith or to have a radical faith, and we all know what he chose. Paul’s radical faith was empowered by the Spirit doing “far more abundantly” in Paul’s life than he could have ever imagined. He taught this because he lived it. What about you?

Ephesians 2 uses the metaphor of a building to describe the nature of the church. Paul says that the cornerstone of this building is Christ, every stone thereafter is a Christ-follower, and the structure is an ever-growing temple that houses the presence of God. It is a beautiful picture of the church, but it’s more than just beautiful, it has a significant practical implication. As we consider what it means to be the church in any day and any age and any culture, we must always return back to the cornerstone. The cornerstone of a building is the model for every other stone. The stones are shaped and molded in relation to the cornerstone. So as we explore what it means to be the church, we begin with the model Christ has laid for us, the self-sacrificial love he demonstrated for the world, and the new life he calls us into.