Job doesn’t give us answers to suffering—it gives us God. And when we connect Job’s story to Jesus, the innocent one who suffered for us, we see that our pain is not pointless, because resurrection will have the final word.

This week we stepped into Isaiah 52–53 and were invited to behold a God who doesn’t stay distant from suffering but steps directly into it—absorbing it, bearing it, transforming it. This is not a God of hollow religiosity or detached morality. This is the Servant King who is both pierced and enthroned. The One who was crushed and victorious.

In this week’s message, “The Hope and Plan of God,” Josh explores Isaiah 5 and 11, tracing the tension between God’s grief over injustice and His promise of restoration through the coming Messiah. We’re reminded that the Church is called not just to believe—but to embody justice, mercy, and Spirit-filled hope

God made us—male and female—in His image, not as a mistake to fix, but as a glory to reflect. In a world of confusion, the gospel invites us to receive our bodies as gifts, honor God with our whole selves, and walk in both truth and compassion.

Evil is not the end of God’s story—it’s the place where His love breaks in. In Jesus, God doesn’t just explain evil—He carries it, judges it, and overcomes it, offering us freedom, justice, and lasting hope.

God’s judgment is not opposed to His love but flows from it—refining us, restoring justice, and ultimately pointing us to the cross, where Christ bore judgment in our place so we might be made righteous. In His judgment, we find both sobering truth and soul-steadying grace.

In a world full of confusion and competing narratives around marriage, sex, and sexuality, the gospel invites us to recover the beauty of God’s design—not as a burden, but as a compelling story of covenant love, embodied in Christ, that speaks to every person’s longing for belonging, wholeness, and grace. Here, truth and compassion are not at odds but held together in the way of Jesus, calling all of us—regardless of our story—into deeper faithfulness and deeper love.

Let’s be honest—if there’s one part of the Bible that makes people squirm, it’s the Old Testament’s violence. Holy wars. Entire cities “devoted to destruction.” Trumpets knocking down walls. It reads, at first glance, like God’s unleashing ancient wrath with indiscriminate fury. But what if we’ve been reading it wrong?