The wise men saw a star and went looking for God only to realize that the star was God looking for them. Meeting with Herod, they asked the whereabouts of the God incarnate, the king of the Jews, but none of their tactics worked. The strategy, might, and political power of Herod offered them nothing. Their own efforts to “seek God” only resulted in the great realization that God had sought after them. We do not find God through our own search for meaning. We find God when he reveals himself to us. Strangely, when we give up the search for God, we can finally see God has searched for us in Christ.

Joseph is the first story in Scripture to unpack (in a major way) God’s transformational presence in darkness. No one in all of the Old Testament gets as low and near death as Joseph: he is literally thrown in a grave, betrayed by his own family, and left for dead only to be sold as a slave. His narrative is one where we as readers are challenged to see the shocking presence of God in the depth of the grave. God arrives in the darkness of suffering in a way that foreshadows his ultimate arrival in Christ.

When David is made king, he makes his first move a simple but profound one: he moves the ark of the covenant back to the center of life for God’s people. His willful action doesn’t bring the presence of God, rather, it brings the peoples’ attention to the fact that God is present. The season of Advent reminds us that no matter how dark, God is near. God’s presumed absence is often an invitation to our attention: where are we looking? What is at the center of our life? Just as David brought the ark in to remind the people of God’s commitment, what do we bring in to remind us of the same thing?

Simeon spent his whole life waiting for the Messiah to come. He spent his life alongside God’s people in darkness. And then he saw the child Jesus. His prayer shows us a profound theological reality of what happens to darkness when God arrives upon its depths.

Jesus is good news even when things fall apart. In this episode, Pastor Seth King looks at the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman.

The final stanza of the Apostles’ Creed is, “I believe in the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting.” The early church paired its belief in the church with its belief in forgiveness and resurrection. How do these two things relate? How can thinking about forgiveness and resurrection help us be more firmly committed to Jesus’ church?

At first glance, the Holy Spirit seems to get the least press in the Apostles Creed, just a single line. But the Holy Spirit actually pervades the entire creed, starting with the first two words: We believe.  The Holy Spirit has been working through all of history and is the power that brings us to belief. But how often do we turn to the Spirit for help, guidance, companionship and power? Regardless of the varying beliefs around the Holy Spirit, the church can all agree that there would be no church without the Spirit, and that same Spirit is working today through the church.

“He will come to judge the living and the dead.” This is the final line about Jesus in the Apostles’ Creed. We often think of judgment as a terrible aspect of God’s nature and work, but Paul told the church in Thessalonica to “encourage one another” in issues around the second coming of Christ. How is God’s judgment good news? And how can we encourage one another as we await his return?

This week, we look at the line, “And in Jesus Christ, His Only Son…He suffered…crucified…descended…rose again and ascended…” from the Apostles’ Creed. Everyone today is trying to answer profound questions of life. Most often, we look to elite thinkers, culturally aware artists, and educated professionals to guide us. What does the Christian story have to offer to answer these deep questions about living? And why is the story of Jesus—an ancient rabbi and carpenter—still a story today that both explains history and transforms humanity? What happens when we confess Jesus as our Lord?

This week, we look at the line, “I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth,” from the Apostles’ Creed. What do we mean when we say we believe in God? Which God is this? The Apostles’ Creed leads us to the one who laid the foundations of the earth, who precedes time and space. To be a Christian is to be one who acknowledges creatureliness. We are not our own; we are made. What are the implications of believing we were not only created, but created by the same God who created everything and everyone else? How might having a Maker bring meaning to our lives?