Mosaic Church - Winter Garden

Christmas matters because it anchors us in the real story of a Savior who actually entered history. As we sing through the season, Come Thou Long Expected Jesus helps us bring our hunger, our hopes, and our honest longings to the One who fulfills them. The human heart understands anticipation—like a child waiting for gifts—and that small ache points to a far greater, older ache: humanity’s long wait for the Messiah. From the earliest pages of Scripture (Genesis 3), God promised that someone born of a virgin woman would crush the serpent, even at great cost. The prophets wrote and wondered what that would look like, and their words narrow the focus until only one person can possibly fit. Jesus is not a vague religious option; He is the precise fulfillment of centuries of promises. Born of a virgin in Bethlehem, from Judah’s tribe and David’s house, entering a specific prophetic window, pursued by a murderous king, called out of Egypt, bringing light to Galilee—His life, death, and resurrection fulfill prophecies that predated crucifixion itself. He healed, taught with Spirit-anointed authority, lived without sin, was betrayed, pierced, mocked, buried in a borrowed tomb, and rose—just as foretold. Our faith is not blind; it rests on a God who told us what He would do and then did it in plain sight. We now live between arrivals. Jesus has come—and He will come again. That means we endure a world where sin’s effects still ache, yet we do not despair; we fix our longing on the One who will finish what He started. The hymn teaches us to pray from both directions: grateful for His first coming and hungry for His return.

Peter blesses God for new birth into a living hope through Jesus’ resurrection, and I celebrate that this isn’t theory—Jesus is alive, present, and calls us to participate with Him. We don’t pursue holiness to earn salvation; salvation is secured. We pursue holiness so His kingdom breaks into this dark world through our lives, so others see Jesus and we taste eternal life now. That’s the backdrop as Paul writes Timothy, a pastor in a corrupt Ephesus where the church is bending to culture and false teaching. The call is timely: embrace your calling and confront corruption—but do it God’s way. Paul starts with me and you. Before correcting others, depart from iniquity, clean the vessel, and then not only flee what corrupts but pursue what fills: righteousness, faith, love, and peace. Flee means run for your life; pursue means chase hard after what looks like Jesus. This pursuit is communal. We do it “with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart,” because oneness isn’t optional—it is God’s cosmic sermon to the powers that His gospel reconciles. Then the surprising turn: the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome. In a world that monetizes outrage, we resist foolish controversies and the inner itch to fight. Yet we do not retreat from truth. We enter the fray with an uncommon posture—kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting opponents with gentleness. This posture is not weakness; it’s alignment with how God changes people. God may perhaps grant repentance, and repentance then opens the door to truth. Kindness tills the soil; truth is the seed; repentance is the miracle God performs. Finally, we remember who the enemy is. People trapped in falsehood are ensnared by the devil, often senseless to their captivity. We don’t fight them; we fight for them, against the powers that hold them. So we flee youthful passions, pursue kingdom character in community, refuse quarrels, and correct with patient gentleness. This is how we confront corruption without becoming corrupt—and how the world begins to wonder who we are and who our King must be.

In this passage, Paul reminds us that in God’s great house, we are called to be vessels set apart for honorable use. By turning from what is unworthy and pursuing a life shaped by holiness, we become instruments God delights to use. Through His grace, and empowered by His Spirit, we are prepared for every good work and equipped to reflect the character and beauty of Jesus.

God gave us His first and best in Jesus Christ. So as those who have experienced the fearless generosity of God, we are now full and freed to give our first and best, knowing that generosity guards our hearts in a world that wars to entangle our hearts in trivial, worldly pursuits.

Jesus reveals the heart of the Father who relentlessly pursues the one who is lost. In His grace, God doesn’t settle for ninety-nine found—He goes after the one more, restoring what was broken and rejoicing over every soul brought home. And now, as His redeemed people, we share His heart and join His mission to seek and save the lost.

Paul’s words to Timothy are a locker room speech for the church: remember the gospel, preach it to yourself, and preach it to one another. The way we handle God’s Word matters deeply. If we drift from the truth, even in small ways—through idle talk, quarrels, or making secondary things central—we risk spreading spiritual “gangrene.” Our words, when not aligned with God’s Word, can bring death instead of life. There is a profound contrast between the life-giving spread of God’s Word and the destructive spread of human words untethered from truth. Truth is not something we create; it is something we discover in God, who is Himself the foundation and embodiment of truth. When we unanchor from this foundation, we not only shipwreck our own faith but can also ruin the faith of others. The call is urgent: rightly handle the Word, stay anchored to God’s unshakable foundation, and do not drift. God’s promises are sealed and guaranteed—He knows those who are His, and nothing can unseal what He has sealed. Living as people of faith means both trusting in the security of our belonging to Jesus and actively departing from iniquity. This is not about earning our place with God, but about living out who we already are in Christ. The way to depart from iniquity is to immerse ourselves in God’s Word, to study it deeply, to see Jesus in every part of it, and to anchor ourselves to what we find there. We do this best in community, reminding and encouraging one another to hold fast, especially when life’s storms come. Just as a seatbelt keeps us safe in a crash, anchoring ourselves to God’s truth keeps us from spiritual ruin. The alternative is drift, death, and destruction. But if we hold fast together, God’s kingdom will spread like life-giving vines, bringing light and freedom to us and those around us.

In this passage, Paul urges us, within the body of Christ, to keep reminding one another of the gospel truth so that we draw near to Jesus and uphold the Word of truth. He warns us not to get caught up in pointless fights over words, as these disagreements are dangerous and even undermine faith. Instead, we are called to study, learn, and rightly handle God’s Word so that we become a people increasingly united in our awe for Jesus!

In this passage, Paul reminds us of a trustworthy saying that reveals the heart of the gospel: the faithfulness of God. As followers of Christ, we are called to die with Him that we might also live with Him, to endure so that we might reign with Him. Yet even when our faith wavers, His grace holds firm. May we then be a people who rest not in our own consistency but in the steadfast love of a God who cannot deny Himself.

In this passage, Paul urges Timothy to remember Jesus Christ and to endure the hardships that come with faithfully proclaiming the gospel. By fixing our minds on Christ—His suffering, resurrection, and faithfulness—we find strength to persevere through every trial. Paul reminds us that our calling is not to achieve results but to remain faithful, trusting that God alone brings the fruit. When we remember Jesus, we are empowered to endure all things and to finish the race set before us.

Following Christ means embracing suffering as part of one’s unique spiritual journey, as we endure challenges with community support. By staying focused on God’s calling, believers can experience a deeper connection with Christ and receive an eternal reward that surpasses temporary trials.