In Baptism and New Birth, John Mulligan walks through what actually happens when someone is baptized — not culturally, not traditionally, but biblically. He ties recent baptisms in the church (and even national attention on mass ocean baptisms) to what Scripture shows in Acts 8, where Philip teaches and then baptizes the Ethiopian official. Baptism, he says, is not a ceremony for babies, not a public badge for people who already “made a decision,” and not an optional add-on for later. It is the moment of new birth, the point where God forgives sin, gives the Holy Spirit, and starts a brand new life. From Acts 8:26–39, we’re shown eight essentials. (1) Baptism is the final stage of conversion — it happens after someone is taught Jesus and is ready to respond. (2) It’s a conscious, informed choice — the Ethiopian is already reading Isaiah, already asking about Christ. Nobody drags him in, and nobody decides for him. (3) It is received in humility — “Philip baptized him.” The person being baptized doesn’t perform a ritual; they submit, handing their whole self over to God. (4) It’s immersion in water — they go down into the water and come up out of the water, matching the literal meaning of the word “baptize”: to immerse. (5) It doesn’t require a special priest or a holy location — just a believer who can help and enough water to bury the old life and raise the new one. (6) It doesn’t demand advanced theology — only honest faith, repentance, and the confession that Jesus is Lord. (7) It is an act of faith, not self-achievement — you’re not “earning salvation,” you’re surrendering to Christ where He promised to meet you. (8) And it leads to joy — the Ethiopian “went on his way rejoicing,” because he knew his sins were washed away and his life had truly begun again. So where does that leave us? First, baptism is not a symbol we schedule for later once we “clean ourselves up.” It’s the God-ordained point of new birth — the reset, the remission of sins, the moment you go from “knowing about Jesus” to actually being united with Him in His death, burial, and resurrection. Second, this is urgent and deeply personal. In Acts 8, when the Ethiopian sees water, he doesn’t say “maybe someday.” He says, “What’s stopping me from being baptized?” If you’re carrying guilt, if you know you need to turn from sin, if you’re ready to belong to Christ and walk in a different life — that question is the right question. And the door is open.
In Two Men in the Temple (Luke 18:9–14), Jay Mijares shows how prayer exposes the heart. Jesus targets those who “trusted in themselves that they were righteous” and despised others. A Pharisee and a tax collector enter the same court to pray—but one performs for people, the other pleads for mercy. Jesus’ verdict flips expectations: the humble sinner goes home justified; the proud religious man does not. We watch the Pharisee stand apart, reciting his résumé—fasting, tithing, and comparison: “I’m not like other men…or this tax collector.” The tax collector stands at a distance, can’t lift his eyes, beats his chest, and cries, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (v.13). That word “merciful” carries atonement overtones—he’s not asking for a pass; he’s asking for propitiation. Jesus concludes, “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Works can’t justify; grace received by faith does. So, what does your prayer posture say about your view of God—and yourself? Trade comparison for confession. Come “with confidence to the throne of grace” to receive mercy (Heb. 4:16). Let prayer align you with God’s will: repent quickly, seek reconciliation, intercede for the hurting, and thank Him that in Christ you are counted righteous. Today, echo the tax collector’s plea—and leave, like him, justified.
In this week’s lesson, The Resurrection of the Just and Unjust, John Mulligan taught plainly what Scripture reveals about the universal resurrection and the two eternal outcomes. Jesus Himself said, “All who are in the graves will hear His voice”—some to life, others to condemnation (John 5:24–29). Paul confirmed it: there will be a resurrection of both the righteous and the wicked (Acts 24:15). Like an honest doctor giving a hard diagnosis so treatment can begin, Scripture speaks truth so we’ll respond before it’s too late. Same event, different destinies. We will all stand before Christ’s judgment seat to receive what is due for deeds done in the body (2 Cor 5:10). For those in Christ, death does not erase hope—“the dead in Christ will rise,” and the living will be caught up with them to be with the Lord forever (1 Thess 4:13–18). For those who refuse God and do not obey the gospel, the future is “everlasting destruction” and being shut out from the Lord’s presence (2 Thess 1:5–10). The difference isn’t luck; it’s our response to Jesus. How to respond—and help others. Now is the time to move from death to life: believe, confess Jesus as Lord, repent, and be baptized for the remission of sins (Acts 2:38). Stay with Jesus and keep serving—your labor isn’t in vain. Pray for loved ones who’ve resisted; ask God to open their hearts. There’s a great day coming, and it will be experienced differently—choose the path that leads to life with the Lord forever.
John Mulligan sketched a clear, hope-filled picture of our life in heaven so we don’t cling to the temporary. Scripture shows what we’ll do and where we’ll be. What’s sown perishable will be raised imperishable; our future is victory, not vagueness (1 Cor 15:57; 15:42–44). What we’ll do: Heaven is not floating on clouds. It’s the joyful rhythm of praise, rest, service, and reigning. A countless multitude worships before the throne—“Salvation belongs to our God” (Rev 7:9–12). The battle with sin ends; we rest from our labors (Rev 14:13). As a kingdom of priests, we serve God (Rev 5:10) and reign with Christ—endless, God-given triumph (Rev 20:4; 22:5). Every tear wiped away, no more hunger, thirst, scorching heat—only the Shepherd leading us to living water (Rev 7:15–17). Where we’ll be: Home with the Lord. Paul longs to “depart and be with Christ” (Phil 1:23; 2 Cor 5:8). At His return we’ll be “with the Lord forever” (1 Thess 4:17). Revelation anchors the hope: God dwells with His people, removes death and pain (Rev 21:1–4), and we see His face; His light fills our forever (Rev 22:1–5). Let that future shape today: hold fast, keep serving, keep repenting—don’t trade eternal joy for momentary trinkets. We’re marching to Zion; our home is with our God.
In this week’s lesson, John Mulligan explored what Scripture says about your future body—so you can embrace eternity, not just tolerate it. Paul gives the frame: what is sown perishable, dishonored, weak, natural will be raised imperishable, in glory, in power, spiritual (1 Cor 15:42–44). The big idea: in heaven you will be the best version of yourself—truly you, yet freed from decay and fitted for God’s forever. How will that look? Jesus says we’ll be “like the angels”—no marriage ceremonies there, yet unmistakably personal and powerful (Matt 22:30). Paul adds that Christ will transform our lowly bodies to be like His glorious body (Phil 3:20–21). The Gospels then show what that means: after the resurrection Jesus stood, spoke, showed His wounds, ate, and was recognized—and also passed through locked doors (John 20:11–29; Acts 1:3–11). Put together, Scripture points to a recognizable, human appearance with supernatural capacities suited to heaven. You will know and love others, engage meaningfully, and fully experience the life God intended—“we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is” (1 John 3:2). So what now? Let that hope reshape the present. Everyone who has this hope purifies themselves—honoring God with this “tent” while longing for the “building from God” to come (1 John 3:3; 2 Cor 5:1–5). Don’t fear being stuck with today’s limitations; don’t imagine a vague, foggy existence. In Christ, you cannot lose: your future is imperishable, glorious, powerful—and profoundly personal. Keep fighting the good fight, repent when you fall, and live today in light of the body you’ll wear forever.
At Golgotha (John 19:28–30), Jesus fulfilled Scripture to the last detail—declaring “I thirst” (Ps 69:21) and then crying out Tetelestai: “It is finished.” John’s focus isn’t on the spectacle of suffering but on the Savior who completes the Father’s plan. Even in agony, Jesus is deliberate, fulfilling prophecy and giving up His spirit by His own authority. “Tetelestai” means more than “paid in full.” It announces a mission completed: the spotless Lamb examined and accepted, the work accomplished, the debt canceled, the enemy defeated. The hyssop that lifted the sour wine recalls Passover—blood on the doorframe, judgment passing over—now fulfilled at the cross. Jesus’ physical thirst points to our spiritual thirst; only His finished work satisfies. Nothing can be added to His atonement—salvation is grace, not a joint project. So what now? Trust all of God’s Word—prophecies kept anchor confidence in promises yet to come. Rest in Christ’s finished work when accusing whispers rise: confess, repent, reconcile, and remember His promise, “whoever comes to me I will never cast out” (Jn 6:37). Because it is finished, we live as witnesses—enduring, generous, and hopeful—proclaiming the gospel until the end. In Christ, your debt is canceled, your future secure, and your heart can say with Him: Tetelestai.
In “The Future Body,” John Mulligan invites us to look forward with hope to the resurrection, reminding us that this world is not our home. While our present bodies bear the marks of weakness, decay, and limitation, God promises something greater. Scripture calls us to fix our eyes not on the temporary but on the eternal, knowing that when Christ returns, our earthly tent will be exchanged for something glorious. Paul tells the Philippians that Christ “will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body” (Phil. 3:21). John echoes the same truth: “We shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2). Our future bodies will not be subject to pain, age, or disease; they will be imperishable, powerful, and suited for eternity with God. Just as Adam bore the image of the earthly man, we will bear the image of the heavenly man—Jesus Christ. The best version of ourselves awaits, crafted by God’s own design, freed from the frailty and dishonor we now experience. But this hope is not meant for passive waiting. John reminds us that “all who have this hope purify themselves, just as he is pure.” The promise of resurrection calls us to respect our present bodies as temples of the Holy Spirit and to live faithfully as salt and light in a world that is passing away. Each act of obedience, each step of godliness, is a preparation for the eternal life to come. Glorious will be our resurrected body—and glorious is the God who gives it.
In “The Present Body,” John Mulligan challenges us to see our bodies through God’s eyes, not just our own. While culture obsesses over appearance, youth, and fitness, Scripture reminds us that our bodies are both temples—dwelling places of the Holy Spirit—and tents—temporary shelters meant to point us to eternity. This balance keeps us from either neglecting or idolizing the body, calling us instead to use it to glorify God in the time we have. Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 6 make it clear: “You are not your own; you were bought with a price.” Our bodies belong to the Lord, and how we use them—what we do, where we go, and what we take in—matters to Him. Peter, nearing the end of his life, spoke of living in “the tent of this body,” highlighting its temporary nature. And Paul adds in 2 Corinthians 4 that while the outer self wastes away, the inner self is renewed day by day. Respecting our physical selves matters, but godliness has eternal value. “Physical training is of some value,” Paul tells Timothy, “but godliness holds value for all things, both for the present life and the life to come.” For us, this means disciplining our desires, keeping boundaries that honor God, and remembering our present struggles are not the final word. The aches, temptations, and frustrations of this life remind us that a new, resurrected body is coming—one free from weakness and decay. Until then, our calling is to live by faith, not by sight, honoring God with the bodies He has given us while fixing our hope on the greater glory yet to be revealed.
In “Where Is Your Treasure?” Jay Mijares walks through Matthew 6:19–24 and asks a simple but searching question: what do you treasure most? Jesus warns against hoarding “treasures on earth” that moth, rust, and thieves can reach, and urges us instead to lay up “treasures in heaven.” Jay notes this isn’t an attack on possessions themselves—it’s a heart issue. In the first century, wealth showed up as fine clothes and full granaries; today it’s phones, cars, accounts, and square footage. Either way, “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Jesus then shifts to eyesight: “the eye is the lamp of the body.” Clear spiritual vision lets God’s light fill our lives; clouded vision lets darkness in. What we fix our eyes on shapes our desires—and eventually our character. God’s Word functions like a mirror and a diagnostic: it reveals what we truly prize and invites a course correction. The passage ends with a line we can’t wiggle past: “No one can serve two masters… You cannot serve God and mammon.” Jay explains that “mammon” isn’t just money; it’s anything material that becomes a rival god. The call is decisive: choose whom you will serve. When Jesus is our treasure, we hold earthly gifts loosely and use them generously for God and others. That re-aimed love—away from self and toward God—turns our resources into tools for eternal good. Seek the riches of heaven, keep your eyes clear, and remember daily: Jesus is your treasure, and He will never fail you.
In this week’s lesson “The Measure of Our Years,” John Mulligan delivered the third message in a series on life, reflecting on how God calls us to view our time not only in moments or days, but also across the decades. Drawing from Psalm 90 and other passages, he reminded us that our years are both precious and limited. Life is God’s gift, and each season—from youth to old age—carries unique opportunities to grow in wisdom, faith, and devotion. Looking at life decade by decade, we see natural shifts: childhood as a time of learning, early adulthood as a time of establishing priorities, middle years as a time of building and staying strong, and later years as times of reflection, planning, and deeper trust in God. Scripture shows us that even as our strength fades, God remains constant—sustaining, carrying, and rescuing us through every stage. Our decades are opportunities not only for growth but also for redirection. Because of God’s grace, we are never too far gone to make a U-turn. Conversion, repentance, and renewal remain open to us, no matter how many years have passed. Ultimately, our best years may still lie ahead if we surrender them to God. Each season of life—whether learning, building, reflecting, or waiting—can be filled with His presence, strength, and hope. As Abraham, Job, and others were described as “full of years,” so too can we finish well by letting God measure our lives with His wisdom and grace. Every decade, and every day within it, is a chance to live more fully for Him.
In this week’s lesson, “One Day at a Time,” John Mulligan taught from Psalm 139, Psalm 90, and Matthew 6 to remind us that our days are both precious and few. God created us with care, knows every detail of our lives, and is present in each moment—whether joyful or difficult. Since life is limited, we are called to live fully for Him today rather than dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. Scripture teaches that wisdom begins with “numbering our days.” We can’t buy extra time, and no one knows how many days remain. Jesus’ words in Matthew 6 guide us to seek God’s kingdom and righteousness first, trusting Him to provide what we need. Living one day at a time means being present, attentive to God’s priorities, and faithful in the opportunities and challenges He places before us. Five practical ways help us do this: start the day with God; look for ways to honor Him; turn problems into opportunities to grow; let go of bitterness and resentment; and be thankful for everything. Each day counts in God’s eyes, and when we live it His way, we find joy, peace, and purpose no matter what comes.
In this week’s lesson, “In Spirit and Truth,” Jay Mijares continued the encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. This conversation reveals that true worship is not bound to a place or a ritual, but springs from a heart transformed by repentance and faith. Jesus exposes her hidden sin—not to shame her, but to free her from it—and offers her the living water of eternal life. Her story shows that salvation requires both confession and a turning away from sin, leading to a new life centered on God. Repentance opens the door to genuine worship. We can’t hide our sins from God—He already knows them—and evasion only keeps us distant from Him. Worship “in spirit” means giving ourselves to God from the heart, beyond empty routines, while worship “in truth” means approaching Him honestly and according to Scripture, through Jesus Christ alone. When we worship this way, joy and intimacy with God replace the burden of guilt. Like the Samaritan woman, transformation leads to a concern for others. She left her water jar behind and ran to tell her neighbors about Jesus—even those who had mistreated her. True encounters with Christ change our priorities and ignite a desire to point others toward Him. No matter our past or perceived inadequacies, God can use a willing heart to lead people to the Savior.
In Sunday’s lesson, Jay Mijares shared a message titled “Are You Thirsty?” from John 4:7–14, reflecting on Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well. Jay reminded us that this familiar story reveals both the heart of Christ and the deepest needs of our own souls. Jesus broke through cultural, social, and religious barriers to speak with a woman who expected rejection, not grace. He offered her “living water,” a gift of eternal life that could satisfy her inner thirst—a thirst she had long tried to fill in other ways. Just as physical water is necessary for life, God alone can quench the spiritual thirst within us. This passage reminds us that people often search for meaning and fulfillment in shallow wells—possessions, relationships, success, or fleeting pleasures—yet remain unsatisfied. The living water that Jesus offers is a gift freely given, flowing from the Father through the Son and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It brings lasting peace, renewal, and purpose, turning our dry and weary souls into bubbling springs of life. Life with Christ is not stagnant or still like a manmade well—it is ever-flowing, life-giving, and impossible to contain. The more we drink from Him, the more our inner thirst is completely and permanently satisfied. This message also challenges us to reflect: Are we drinking from the true living water, or from the wells we’ve dug ourselves? And like Jesus, are we willing to step out of our comfort zones to minister to the outcast, the overlooked, and those the world has pushed aside? The living water of Christ not only refreshes us but is meant to flow through us to bless others. When we reflect His grace to the broken and dry places around us, we reveal the heart of God to a thirsty world.
John Mulligan’s sermon this week, “How to Start Your Day,” drew from Psalm 5:1–3 to encourage a purposeful, prayerful approach to mornings. Highlighting how Jesus Himself began His days in quiet communion with the Father, John pointed out that Scripture consistently elevates the importance of using our limited time wisely. Mornings, he emphasized, can set the tone for everything that follows. Just as David opened his day by laying his requests before God and waiting expectantly, believers today can start with the same mindset: going to God directly, reverently, and with intention. Psalm 5 offers five simple yet powerful insights about morning prayer. First, we can go to God directly—without appointments, intermediaries, or delays. Second, we should approach Him humbly, recognizing His majesty while acknowledging our dependence. Third, our prayers should be personal, as David models with repeated references to “my” lament, “my” King, and “my” voice. Fourth, we are invited to be consistent—coming to God not just occasionally, but as a regular rhythm of life. And fifth, we are called to pray expectantly, trusting that God hears and acts in His perfect timing, even when outcomes aren’t immediate or clear. Starting the day with God isn’t about checking off a box or earning favor—it’s about orienting ourselves toward the One who guides, strengthens, and sustains. Whether our prayers are long or brief, structured or spontaneous, spoken or silent, the simple act of turning to God each morning acknowledges His place at the center of our lives. It’s not about being a “morning person,” but about being a faithful one. As we begin each day, we’re invited to meet God with trust and purpose—and to see how He shapes the hours that follow.
In this week’s lesson “Where Is God When the Unthinkable Happens?” John Mulligan addressed the heartbreaking flood in Texas that claimed the lives of young girls attending a church camp. A tragedy of this magnitude challenges even the strongest faith. Rather than offering easy answers, the lesson guided listeners through a thoughtful biblical reflection on suffering, divine silence, and trust. Drawing from personal sorrow, historical tragedies, and passages like Psalm 10 and Habakkuk 1, John emphasized that asking "Where is God?" in the midst of pain is not a sign of weak faith—but a deeply human, and even scriptural, response. Knowing about painful events is difficult, especially in an age of constant, global news coverage. But explaining them is harder still. Scripture never shies away from these questions; it records them honestly, even from prophets and kings. While we are often left without clear answers, the Bible points us to a God who allows these questions and walks with us through the hurt. The cross itself—the place where the Father did not intervene to spare His own Son—reminds us that God is not distant from suffering. He feels it, too. And even without full understanding, believers are invited to hold fast to a God who is compassionate and merciful. Faith means choosing trust in the absence of clarity. Even when there’s no satisfying explanation, we can lean on God’s character and promises. The story of Job and the words of Romans 8 affirm that God’s care remains even when His reasons are hidden. As one young survivor of the Texas flood expressed hope and compassion amid her trauma, so too are we called to endure with faith and tenderness. In moments of heartbreak, we may not get over the pain, but by God’s grace, we can get through it—believing that one day, we will understand it all by and by.
John Mulligan’s sermon this week, “5 Times to Turn to God,” encouraged us to live deliberately and spiritually aware in every season of life. Drawing from Ephesians 5:15–20, he reminded us that life can shift in an instant—often without warning—so we must make the most of our moments, not just our years. Whether in joy, pain, or routine, every moment carries spiritual weight and invites us to turn to God. With recent tragedies in mind, the message emphasized that our time is fragile and fleeting, which makes our response to each moment all the more significant. There are five types of moments that call us to turn to God. In happy moments, we’re called to praise—expressing joy not just as a feeling, but as an act of worship. When life is difficult, we seek God first in prayer, remembering that He not only knows our struggles but cares deeply about us and has the power to help. In quiet moments, when life slows down, we are invited to worship through stillness, reflection, and connection with God—modeling the example of Jesus, who carved out early-morning solitude to commune with the Father. In painful moments, we are reminded to trust. Even when God doesn’t immediately remove the hardship, He is near to the brokenhearted and will see us through. And in every moment, we are urged to give thanks—shifting our perspective to what God has already provided, which often calms our anxieties and deepens our peace. These five invitations—praise, seek, worship, trust, and thank—aren’t mere spiritual checklists, but habits of the heart that help us walk with God in every circumstance. They orient us to His presence and power, whether we’re soaring or struggling. Each moment is a gift to be stewarded—not stolen by fear, distraction, or Satan’s lies. The question we’re left with is this: How will we respond to the moments we’ve been given?
In this week’s lesson, "Little Zacchaeus", Jay Mijares examined Luke 19:1–10 and the remarkable encounter between Jesus and a man considered by many to be beyond redemption. Zacchaeus, a wealthy and corrupt chief tax collector, sought desperately to see Jesus, going so far as to climb a tree to catch a glimpse. In a shocking twist, Jesus calls Zacchaeus by name and invites Himself to his home, sparking criticism from the surrounding crowd. But in response, Zacchaeus displays genuine repentance and faith, promising to give generously to the poor and repay anyone he has wronged. This encounter reveals the depth of God's grace and the urgency of seeking Jesus. Zacchaeus climbed that tree not for show, but with deep yearning for something more. His desperation reflects the kind of earnest seeking that leads to transformation. Jesus, fully aware of Zacchaeus’s past, calls him by name and extends an invitation to relationship. That same invitation is extended to us, regardless of our status, history, or reputation. God sees the honest seeker and responds—not based on worthiness, but on readiness to receive Him. The story affirms that true repentance produces visible change. Zacchaeus’s life pivoted from self-serving greed to generous restoration, not because he was coerced, but because his encounter with Jesus changed him from the inside out. This is the heart of the gospel: Jesus came to seek and save the lost. His love isn’t reserved for the religious elite, but for anyone willing to humbly respond to His call. So when Jesus calls your name, how will you respond?
John Mulligan’s sermon, “Faith When God Speaks,” is the fifth lesson in his series “The Foundation of Our Faith.” This message focused on how authentic faith develops when we truly listen to God. Drawing from Romans 10:17—“faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ”—we’re reminded that faith isn't about visions or signs, nor is it built on impulse or emotion. Instead, it grows as we engage with what God has already revealed. Belief in the unseen is not blind; it’s grounded in a God who speaks clearly and credibly. Genuine faith comes from connecting to God’s communication. As Hebrews 1 explains, God has spoken through prophets and now through His Son—and those words have been confirmed through signs, miracles, and faithful witnesses. The Bible is not a relic; it's God’s living message, calling us to draw near. But like students in a classroom, some come close, ready to listen, while others tune out or avoid the call altogether. Faith grows when we’re willing to lean in, listen closely, and receive God’s voice through His Word. True faith is also responsive to God's directives. Hebrews 11 presents people who acted even when they didn’t fully understand: Abel gave what pleased God, Noah built an ark before ever seeing rain, Abraham left home not knowing where he was going, and Sarah believed God’s promise despite the odds. Their faith responded not to feelings, but to God's voice. That’s our challenge, too—to obey when God speaks, even if His commands run counter to culture, convenience, or our own desires. This kind of faith is not theoretical—it’s active, courageous, and built on the rock-solid word of a trustworthy God.
In this week’s lesson, “The Tests of Time and Trials,” John Mulligan taught that genuine faith must withstand two powerful forces: the slow passing of time and the pain of personal trials. He began with 1 Peter 1, where believers are urged to cling to a “living hope” and an imperishable inheritance, even as they suffer grief and hardship. These challenges are not pointless—they refine our faith, proving it more valuable than gold. Scripture never promises that following Jesus will shield us from difficulty; instead, it assures us that endurance through suffering is a mark of true faith. Faith is tested across all stages of life—from the passions and temptations of youth, to the distractions of success and comfort in middle age, to the physical decline and loneliness of later years. Each season presents new threats to our spiritual roots. Jesus’ parable of the sower warns us that shallow, short-lived belief can wither when trials come. True discipleship is not a fleeting feeling but a lifelong commitment—faithfulness that holds steady through changes in circumstances, status, or strength. Trials also take the form of loss, pain, doubt, and even persecution. Whether facing a devastating diagnosis, a loss of a loved one, or a crisis of belief, believers are reminded that these are the fires through which faith is refined. When we fall, we’re called to get back up. Faith doesn’t mean we’ll never stumble—it means we return to God again and again, trusting that He’s still with us. The promise remains: “Be faithful unto death, and I will give you a crown of life.” Genuine faith keeps going—not because life always makes sense, but because we trust in the One who holds the end of the story.
In this week’s lesson, “The Foundation of Genuine Faith,” John Mulligan invited us to consider what it truly means to believe in the unseen. He emphasized that the most important aspects of our Christian life—our forgiveness, our prayers, the Lord’s Supper, our heavenly home, and even God Himself—are things we do not see, yet we place our trust in them. Drawing from Hebrews 11:6, he reminded us that faith is not optional in our walk with God: it is essential. Without it, we cannot please Him. In a world where even what we see can be manipulated or fabricated, Scripture offers a trustworthy written record. Faith, then, is not blind—it is a response to credible testimony about the God who created us and calls us to Himself. Genuine faith begins with a desire to believe. We place trust in countless things every day—medications, airplanes, prescriptions—not because we fully understand them, but because we believe they will help us. Faith in God similarly requires an intentional pursuit. Those who seek Him aren’t doing so because they’re pressured or coerced, but because they’re responding to compelling evidence. Even Thomas, often remembered for his doubts, remained among the disciples, putting himself in a position to encounter truth. When Jesus appeared, Thomas didn’t resist—he believed. Faith doesn’t demand we ignore our questions; it invites us to keep searching. Genuine faith ultimately lands in an embrace of the truth. In Acts 8, the Samaritans were captivated by Simon’s sorcery until Philip came preaching Christ and performing true miracles. The people listened, believed, and were baptized—not because of theatrics, but because they recognized something real. From Cornelius to Sergius Paulus, we see thoughtful individuals who, when confronted with the gospel’s truth, responded with conviction. The journey of faith is not always instant or easy. But when we continue seeking, the evidence will lead us to Jesus—and the life found in His name.