Rise Community Podcast

This sermon explores Paul's prayer in Ephesians 3:14-21, emphasizing the importance of Christian unity and experiencing God's love as a community. The speaker highlights how Paul's prayer serves as a climactic summary of the themes in Ephesians 1-3, focusing on the mystery of Gentiles and Jews becoming one body in Christ. The sermon stresses that fully grasping God's love requires believers to engage with one another, especially those different from themselves, and to live sacrificially in community.

In this video from The Bible Project, see how the inhabitants of the heavenly realm play a key part in the biblical story with our Spiritual Beings series.

The book of Ephesians offers timeless wisdom and practical guidance for believers seeking to live out their faith in a diverse and often divided world. Written by the Apostle Paul, this letter to the church in Ephesus emphasizes the transformative power of Jesus’ work on the cross and God’s vision for a unified humanity. Paul challenges followers of Jesus to embrace their new identity, overcome barriers of ethnicity and culture, and reflect Christ’s love in their daily lives.

This week's message on Holy Week invites us to journey beyond the familiar narrative of Palm Sunday and Easter to examine the raw, uncomfortable reality of betrayal and failure in the lives of Jesus' closest disciples. We're confronted with two parallel stories: Judas, who allowed Satan to consume him and chose isolation after his betrayal, and Peter, who denied Christ three times yet chose the path of restoration. The message challenges us to recognize that sifting, that violent shaking of everything we hold secure, is not a sign of spiritual failure but rather an essential part of discipleship and growth. When we experience seasons where our faith is tested to its core, when we feel everything crumbling around us, we're actually being refined. The critical question isn't whether we will fail, because we all will, but which path we'll choose afterward. Will we run toward isolation, allowing shame to convince us we're beyond saving, or will we grieve honestly, stay connected to community, and receive the restoration Jesus offers? The beautiful truth revealed at that beach breakfast scene reminds us that Jesus knows us intimately, prepares a place for us even after our worst failures, and reaffirms our calling when we choose to move desperately toward Him rather than away.

This powerful exploration of Matthew 7:15-23 challenges us to reconsider what true spiritual authenticity looks like. We often think we can easily spot false prophets—the obvious cult leaders and charlatans. But Jesus warns us about something far more subtle: those who appear righteous, who say 'Lord, Lord,' who cast out demons and perform miracles, yet remain unknown to Christ. The sermon unpacks the entire Sermon on the Mount as a unified message challenging religious culture itself—not the secular world, but those who believe they're already righteous. We're reminded that the truly blessed aren't the wealthy and successful, but the poor in spirit, the meek, and the peacemakers. The fruit we're called to examine isn't ministry success or impressive credentials, but character—the fruit of the Spirit like love, joy, peace, patience, and kindness. This message confronts our tendency to be impressed by big ministries, eloquent speakers, and visible success, urging us instead to look deeper at the hearts and actions of those we follow. It's a sobering reminder that we can have spiritual gifts and still be outside God's will, as illustrated through Samson's story. Most importantly, we're challenged to examine our own relationship with God—is it surface-level religion or genuine intimacy where Jesus truly knows us?

In our exploration of Matthew's Sermon on the Mount, we encounter a challenging truth: knowing Scripture and living it are vastly different things. The passage challenges us to move beyond religious performance toward genuine heart transformation. We're confronted with the reality that our relationships are the proving ground of our faith. Every conflict, every difficult conversation, every moment of judgment reveals whether we truly understand the greater righteousness Jesus calls us to. The central question becomes: How do we navigate the messy complexity of human relationships while maintaining Kingdom values? Jesus points us to prayer as the essential fuel for this journey. Not ritualistic prayer, but persistent, childlike asking, seeking, and knocking. The beautiful imagery of a good father who delights in giving good gifts to his children reshapes our understanding of God. He's not waiting to punish us, but eager to provide wisdom when we lack it. This wisdom isn't mere information but the discernment to know when to speak and when to remain silent, when to confront and when to extend grace. The Golden Rule emerges not as a simple platitude but as a radical way of life that requires us to put ourselves in others' shoes, to desire for them what we would want for ourselves. This narrow path demands we break allegiance with our idols of success, tribalism, and self-protection, choosing instead the counterintuitive way of open-handed generosity toward all.

The Sermon on the Mount challenges us to examine the mirror of our own hearts before we cast judgment on others. In Matthew 7:1-6, we encounter one of Scripture's most direct commands: do not judge, or you too will be judged. This isn't a call to abandon discernment or ignore right and wrong—rather, it's an invitation to radical self-reflection. Jesus uses vivid imagery of specks and planks to illustrate our tendency to casually observe faults in others while failing to perceive the logs in our own eyes. The Greek words used here reveal the distinction: we make quick judgments about others but lack deep perception about ourselves. This teaching invites us into a greater righteousness that transforms how we relate to our brothers and sisters in Christ. When we recognize our own brokenness, our own need for mercy, we become safe people who can truly help others. The measure we use will be measured back to us—a principle of reciprocity that should cause us to pause before we condemn. We're called to a community where self-evaluation comes before correction, where humility precedes instruction, and where we extend the same grace we desperately need. This is the narrow path that leads to life, the way of the kingdom where mercy triumphs over judgment.

This powerful message confronts one of the most universal struggles we face: anxiety. Drawing from Matthew 6:25-34, we're invited into Jesus' radical teaching about worry and trust. The sermon challenges us to examine what truly drives our lives—is it the relentless pursuit of security through money, possessions, and control, or is it trust in God's provision? Through the beautiful imagery of birds and flowers, we're reminded that God cares for creation with such attention that surely He cares even more deeply for us. But this isn't naive optimism—the message acknowledges real hardship, real financial struggles, and real mental health challenges. Instead, it offers a transformative reframing: our anxiety reveals where we've placed our trust. The call isn't to stop caring or planning, but to redirect our primary concern toward God's kingdom. When we seek first His kingdom and righteousness, we're promised that everything else will be provided. This includes four practical tools for retraining our anxious minds: focused prayer meditation, fasting as vulnerability training, confessional community, and professional mental health support. The freedom Jesus offers isn't freedom from responsibility, but freedom from the crushing weight of believing we're alone in carrying life's burdens.

At the heart of the Sermon on the Mount lies a prayer that has shaped Christian faith for two millennia—the Lord's Prayer. This message invites us to rediscover this ancient prayer not as empty repetition, but as a transformative spiritual practice that calibrates our hearts daily toward God. We're challenged to move beyond our Protestant hesitancy about liturgy and ritual, recognizing that these practices aren't religious trappings but essential disciplines that align our minds, hearts, and souls with divine truth. The prayer's structure is profound: twelve lines divided into two movements—the first addressing God's holiness, kingdom, and will; the second focusing on our communal needs for provision, forgiveness, and deliverance. Notice how Jesus never uses 'me' or 'I'—it's always 'us' and 'our,' reminding us that faith is inherently communal. When we pray 'Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven,' we acknowledge that God's will isn't automatically enacted here—we're participants in bringing heaven to earth. This prayer isn't just instruction; it's Jesus sharing his own heart with us. When we recite these words thoughtfully, we participate in the very experience of Christ, echoing his submission in Gethsemane. The challenge before us is to make this prayer a daily ritual—not mindless recitation, but genuine heart engagement that shapes our character and transforms how we see the world.

This week's message takes us deep into Matthew 6, where Jesus confronts one of the most challenging aspects of our spiritual lives: the difference between genuine righteousness and religious performance. We're challenged to examine whether our acts of devotion—giving to the needy, praying, fasting—are truly for God's glory or subtly designed to earn human applause. The sermon unpacks Jesus' use of the word 'hypocrite,' revealing it doesn't mean someone who says one thing and does another, but rather someone who does the right thing for the wrong reason. This distinction is crucial for us today, especially in our social media-saturated culture where virtue signaling has become commonplace. We're invited to ask ourselves: Are we posting our faith to inspire others toward God, or to position ourselves as morally superior? The message powerfully contrasts secrecy with privacy—secrecy keeps everyone from knowing the real us, while privacy means the right people know the real us. This distinction offers freedom from shame and opens the door to authentic accountability. Ultimately, we're reminded that the greatest reward isn't applause, comfort, or prosperity—it's the presence of Jesus himself, transforming us from the inside out. The closing reading from Matthew 25 drives home the point: true righteousness is demonstrated in how we serve 'the least of these,' not in how loudly we announce our good deeds.

This week's message challenges us to reimagine what love truly means through Jesus' radical teaching in Matthew 5:43-48. We're confronted with an uncomfortable truth: we all create mental categories and rankings of people, justifying why some deserve our kindness while others don't. But Jesus demolishes these artificial boundaries by commanding us to love our enemies—not with warm feelings, but with agape love, a deliberate, sacrificial choice to treat everyone with dignity. The Greek word 'teleos' reveals that perfection isn't about flawlessness; it's about wholeness, being fully formed and aligned with God's character. When Jesus declared 'it is finished' on the cross, he showed us what perfection actually looks like—irresponsible, reckless love poured out for enemies. This teaching connects beautifully to Genesis, where God called creation 'tov' (good/whole), and invites us into a restoration journey back to that original goodness. The challenge is deeply personal: what labels have we attached to people? How have we justified treating others as less human? God doesn't see our categories—He sees His image in every person, and He's calling us to do the same, one courageous act of love at a time.

In a world spinning with anxiety, tragedy, and seemingly endless cycles of retaliation, we're invited to discover something revolutionary: a way of responding to injustice that doesn't mirror the violence done to us. This exploration of Jesus' teaching on 'an eye for an eye' from the Sermon on the Mount reveals that what we've often misunderstood as brutal vengeance was actually ancient wisdom designed to put a ceiling on our worst impulses. The principle wasn't about taking someone's literal eye—it was about establishing fair compensation and preventing blood feuds from spiraling across generations. But Jesus takes us even further, challenging us not to respond 'in kind' when we're wronged. The Greek word used doesn't mean 'do nothing'—it means 'don't stand in the same way.' We're called to scramble the system, to shock the conscience of those who harm us by refusing to make them our enemies. Through powerful examples—turning the other cheek to reclaim dignity, giving our cloak to expose greed, going the extra mile to redefine relationships—we see a pattern of creative non-retaliation that has actually changed history. From the abolition of slavery to the Civil Rights Movement, those who chose this path didn't achieve victory through violence but through exposing injustice while maintaining their moral high ground. This isn't passive acceptance of abuse; it's brave, strategic resistance rooted in the ultimate goal of reconciliation. The question we must wrestle with is whether we can live this way in our homes, workplaces, and communities—treating even those who wrong us with the dignity that comes from being made in God's image.

This message confronts us with a powerful distinction that exists in every church community: the difference between being a believer and becoming a disciple. We learn that approximately 80% of any congregation consists of people who are saved and heaven-bound, yet remain spiritually stagnant—they don't read their Bibles regularly, don't share their faith, don't give generously, and don't serve in ministry. They're like spiritual bargain hunters, hoping to receive much while investing little. The remaining 20% have made the transformative journey from mere belief to active discipleship. Drawing from Luke 9:23, we're challenged with Jesus's straightforward requirements: deny ourselves, take up our cross daily, and follow Him. This isn't a one-time decision but a daily commitment to die to our own desires, opinions, and comfort. The cross imagery is stripped of its modern romanticization and restored to its original meaning—an instrument of death that symbolizes our complete surrender. The sermon uses the compelling analogy of snorkeling versus deep-sea diving: snorkeling requires minimal investment and keeps us on the surface where we see only shallow beauty, while deep-sea diving demands training, equipment, sacrifice, and commitment—but reveals wonders the surface-dweller will never experience. As we enter a new year, we're asked to honestly assess: are we still just occupying a seat, or are we ready to dive deeper into intimacy with Christ and active participation in His kingdom?

This week's message takes us deep into Matthew 5:33-37, where Jesus challenges our understanding of oaths and integrity in ways that cut straight to the heart. We discover that Jesus isn't simply telling us not to swear—He's exposing how religious people in His time had created loopholes to manipulate others while technically keeping the law. They would swear by the temple, the altar, or Jerusalem instead of God's name, thinking they could escape accountability. But Jesus reveals a profound truth: everything belongs to God, even the hairs on our heads, so any oath we make involves Him whether we acknowledge it or not. The message connects this teaching to the literary framework of Genesis, showing how those who twist oaths become like the serpent in the garden—deceivers rather than truth-tellers. What emerges is a call to radical integrity that goes beyond simply not lying. We're challenged to be people whose 'yes' means yes and whose 'no' means no—people so trustworthy that we don't need to add collateral to our words. This isn't just about avoiding falsehood; it's about building relationships within the body of Christ where trust runs deep, where we show up on time, follow through on commitments, and demonstrate reliability in every area of life. The sermon reminds us that Christianity isn't a list of 'thou shalt nots' but a call to actively love God and others through consistent, trustworthy character.

This powerful exploration of Matthew 5:31-32 takes us deep into Jesus' teaching on marriage and divorce, revealing something far more profound than a simple rulebook. We discover that Jesus wasn't creating new burdens but was actually protecting the vulnerable and elevating women in a culture that treated them as disposable. The sermon unpacks the crucial difference between God's ideal will found in Genesis 1-2—one man and one woman becoming one flesh—and the concessions made in Deuteronomy 24 because of human hardness of heart. We learn about the rabbinic debate between Hillel and Shammai, where one school allowed divorce for any reason (even burnt toast!) while the other held a stricter view. Jesus sided with protection over convenience, challenging the consumer mentality that treats marriage as something to discard when it stops serving our needs. Yet beautifully, Jesus never shames those who've experienced divorce. Instead, He takes shame upon Himself, just as He did with the woman caught in adultery. This message calls us to be a safe church that walks alongside the wounded, recognizing that marriage is beautiful but requires work, sanctification, and two strangers learning to love each other deeply. The kingdom of heaven isn't about heavier rules—it's about transformed hearts that do right by one another.

This message challenges us to rethink our entire approach to spiritual growth by distinguishing between 'trying' and 'training.' Drawing from Matthew 11:28-30 where Jesus invites us to take His easy yoke, we're confronted with an honest question: do we actually experience that ease and rest in our faith journey? The truth is, many of us treat salvation as a finish line when it's really just the starting line. We fall into cycles of effort and failure, weighed down by shame, because we're operating on willpower alone rather than partnering with the Holy Spirit's transformative power. The sermon unpacks Romans 12:1-2 and Philippians 2:12-13 to reveal a beautiful paradox: spiritual formation requires both God's grace and our active participation. Like a sailboat that needs both wind and raised sails, we cannot create the Spirit's power, but we must position ourselves to catch it. The imagery of apprenticeship runs throughout—just as Jesus told His disciples to 'watch me' and Paul told Timothy to 'train yourself,' we're called into a lifelong process of becoming like Christ. This isn't about earning God's approval (we already have it) but about allowing ourselves to be transformed from the inside out. The challenge isn't to be perfect tomorrow, but to begin raising our sails today through practices like prayer, study, community, and mission—not as religious obligations, but as positioning ourselves for the Spirit's work in our lives.