Life has a way of feeling like a mountain stage that never ends. You wake up, and the road ahead is steep. The wind is in your face. Your legs are burning. And somewhere in the back of your mind, a quiet voice whispers that it might be easier to just stop pedaling.

If you have ever been in that place, the book of Hebrews was written for you.

The book of Hebrews was written around AD 64-65 AD, one of the most turbulent seasons in early Christian history. Emperor Nero was intensifying his persecution of believers. The destruction of Jerusalem was only five years away. And a specific group of people, Jewish men and women who had converted to Christianity, were being pushed to their limits.

The pressure was immense. Family members questioned their choices. Communities ostracized them. Children paid a social price for the faith of their parents. And so, many of these believers were tempted to do the reasonable thing: walk it back. Return to the familiar patterns of Judaism. Take the foot off the accelerator and blend in.

The letter of Hebrews is the Spirit-inspired response to that temptation. And its message is not gentle in the way we sometimes expect spiritual encouragement to be. It is bold. It is urgent. And it makes one central argument with extraordinary force.

Jesus is better.

The word "superior" or "better" appears fifteen times in the book of Hebrews. That is not an accident. The author is building a case, brick by brick, that Jesus surpasses every source of spiritual help, comfort, or mediation that came before Him.

He is better than the angels. Hebrews 1:14 describes angels as ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation. They are powerful, and their service is real. But Jesus exceeds what they can offer.

He is better than Moses. Moses was the towering figure of the Old Testament, the one through whom God delivered the law. Hebrews 3:3 states plainly that Jesus has been found worthy of greater honor than Moses. If Israel faced consequences for rejecting Moses, how much more serious is it to turn away from Jesus?

He is better than the priests. The high priests of Israel served an essential function, standing between a holy God and a sinful people. But they were imperfect. They had to offer sacrifices for their own sins before they could address the sins of the people. Their work was never finished. They could never sit down, because there was always more to do.

Jesus sat down. That single image carries enormous weight. Hebrews 1:3 describes Him sitting down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven after providing purification for sins. The work was complete. Done. Finished. Once for all.

That phrase, "once for all," echoes through the middle chapters of Hebrews like a drumbeat. He entered the holy place once for all by His own blood. He appeared once for all at the culmination of the ages. He sacrificed for sins once for all when He offered Himself. The repetition is intentional. The old sacrificial system required endless repetition because it could never fully accomplish what Jesus accomplished in a single, definitive act.

He is better than the sacrifices. He is the sacrifice to end all sacrifices.

And because He is all of this, Hebrews 4 offers one of the most comforting invitations in all of Scripture. Since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, we are invited to approach the throne of grace with confidence, to receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. He was tempted in every way we are, yet without sin. He knows the weight of the climb. He has felt the burn in his legs. He understands.

Here is where Hebrews does something that comfortable Christianity sometimes avoids. It does not stop at comfort. It issues a command.

Persevere.

The theological argument about the superiority of Jesus is not simply meant to make readers feel better. It is meant to fuel endurance. The logic runs like this: if Jesus is truly superior to every other source of help, then there is no legitimate reason to abandon Him when things get hard. The sufficiency of Christ is the foundation for the call to press on.

Hebrews 12:1-2 captures the heartbeat of the entire letter. Surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, readers are urged to throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and to run with perseverance the race marked out for them, fixing their eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.

The cloud of witnesses is not decorative. Hebrews 11 catalogs men and women who endured torture, imprisonment, stonings, and death rather than abandon their faith. They did not receive in their lifetimes what was promised. But they held on. And Hebrews 11:40 makes a stunning declaration: God planned something better, something that would only be complete together with us. Their story and ours are bound together.

The book of Hebrews does not pretend that the climb is easy. It acknowledges destitution, persecution, and suffering without flinching. But it also refuses to let hardship have the final word.

Three challenges emerge from its pages that are worth sitting with honestly.

Are you becoming spiritually lazy? Hebrews 6:12 calls readers not to laziness but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherited what was promised. Spiritual laziness is not simply passivity. It is refusing to do the one thing God is calling you to do, especially when it is hard.

Are your knees growing weak? Hebrews 12:12 calls for strengthening feeble arms and weak knees. The soul can grow anxious and timid. The answer is not to ignore the fear but to press into the God who disciplines and shapes us for our good.

Are you tempted to walk away entirely? Hebrews 12:25 carries a sobering warning against refusing the one who speaks from heaven. The door is not closed. But do not harden your heart.

Whatever stage of the climb you find yourself on today, the message of Hebrews is worth receiving in full. Not just the comfort, but the challenge. Not just the promises, but the command.

Jesus is better. Better than the comfort you've been chasing. Better than the escape you are considering. Better than the substitute you've been leaning on. Better than anything this world offers when the road gets steep.

And because He is better, there is every reason to keep pedaling.

Hebrews reminds us that following Jesus isn't always easy, but it is always worth it. If you'd like to hear this message explored more fully, we invite you to watch Pastor Fred's sermon on Hebrews. As you do, our prayer is that you'll be encouraged to fix your eyes on Jesus and keep pressing forward in faith.

This ministry event is intended to create an opportunity for the Senior Adults (65+) in our community to join together and praise the lord through the accompaniment of Duane Beeson's stunning pianism.

It will take place on Thursday, August 13, at 2:00pm, in the FRC Sanctuary. We hope to see you there!

Give thanks unto the lord, for he is good, and his mercy endures forever.

Have a blessed day!

On Sunday, August 9, we are wrapping up our middle school summer with pizza and three hours of unlimited fun at Thunder Road in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

For just $5, incoming 6th-9th grade students will get pizza, go-karts, laser tag, mini golf, bumper cars, arcade time, and more. This will be a great event to invite a friend to, especially someone who may not normally come to youth group. It’s also a fun, low-pressure way for students and adult leaders to get to know each other before the new ministry season begins. You may register your child for this event using the button above.

Parent volunteers and drivers are needed. If you would like to Volunteer or Drive, feel free to contact Ross Enger, using the button below:

In a world that constantly chases happiness, there exists something deeper, more enduring, more transformative: joy. While happiness depends on circumstances—successes, celebrations, things going our way—joy transcends our situations and anchors itself in something eternal.

Consider the powerful testimony of the Popov family, Ukrainian refugees who fled a war-torn homeland, leaving behind careers, homes, and the familiar rhythms of life. Facing uncertainty and displacement, they chose joy. Not because their circumstances warranted celebration, but because they recognized a profound truth: "In our earthly life, there are not only days of joy, but also days of sorrow. And God always directs our eyes to heaven because our reality is not of this world."

This perspective echoes the ancient words spoken to shepherds on that first Christmas night: "Do not be afraid, for I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you. He is the Messiah, the Lord." (Luke 2:10-11)

The book of Philippians stands as one of Scripture's most remarkable documents—a letter overflowing with joy written by a man in chains. Paul, the author, penned these words while under house arrest, literally chained to a Roman guard. He couldn't move freely, couldn't travel to the churches he loved, couldn't continue the missionary work that defined his calling.

Yet throughout this brief letter, the words "joy" and "rejoice" appear more than sixteen times.

How could someone in such restrictive circumstances radiate such profound joy? The answer reveals itself in Paul's opening words: "I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for you, I always pray with joy." (Philippians 1:3-4)

Paul's joy wasn't rooted in his circumstances but in something unchangeable: the reality of what Christ had accomplished and the transformation he witnessed in others' lives. The church at Philippi held a special place in Paul's heart. Their founding story began dramatically—with an earthquake that shook open prison doors and led a jailer and his entire household to faith in Christ. (Acts 16:25-34)

At the heart of Philippians lies one of the most theologically rich passages in all of Scripture—the Christ hymn. These verses capture the essence of why joy can exist even in suffering:


This is the foundation: Jesus, who had everything, gave up everything to rescue us. His humility and sacrifice mean that no matter what life throws at us, we can have joy because of what Jesus has done for us.

Let that truth settle deeply: No matter what life throws at us, we can have joy because of what Jesus has done for us.

We live in a culture obsessed with doing. When we meet someone new, we inevitably ask, "What do you do?" We define ourselves by our careers, our accomplishments, our productivity. But we are human beings, not human doings.

Paul understood this tension. If anyone had reason to feel purposeless while chained in house arrest, it was him. Called by God to travel and preach, he now found himself stationary and restricted. Yet Paul discovered something profound about purpose:

"What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage that I gain Christ to be found in him." (Philippians 3:8)

Paul's purpose wasn't ultimately about what he did but about who he knew. His relationship with Christ defined everything. This led him to one of Scripture's most challenging yet liberating statements: "Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead." (Philippians 3:13)

This isn't about denying the past or pretending painful experiences didn't happen. It's about refusing to be defined or imprisoned by what's behind us. We learn from the past; we're shaped by it. But we don't dwell there. We press forward, leaning into what God has ahead.

Paul's circumstances were genuinely uncertain. He didn't know if he would be executed or released. He couldn't control what would happen to the churches he'd planted. Yet in the midst of this uncertainty, he wrote these comforting words:


This peace isn't the absence of problems but the presence of God in the midst of them. Paul had learned contentment—not as resignation but as confidence in God's sovereignty: "I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need. I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in every situation, whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." (Philippians 4:11-12)

Then comes the familiar verse: "I can do all things through him who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:13)

This isn't a promise of superhuman abilities or guaranteed success in every endeavor. It's assurance that Christ will provide the strength to endure whatever circumstances we face. The power isn't ours; it's His, working through us.

Joy becomes contagious when it's shared. Paul understood that authentic Christian community requires intentional encouragement. He wrote: "Therefore, if any of you have encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from His love, if any common sharing of the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love." (Philippians 2:1-2)

The early church transformed culture not through political power or social status but through deep, connected relationships and caring communities. They showed up where others wouldn't—caring for the sick, the poor, the ostracized. Their love was so compelling that the surrounding culture wanted what they had.

Encouragement isn't merely about positivity; it's about giving courage. It's an action that glorifies God and strengthens others to press forward in faith.

Paul's summary statement captures the essence of a joy-filled life: "For me to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21)

This isn't escapism or a death wish. It's the freedom that comes from knowing that whether we live or die, we belong to Christ. If we live, we have the privilege of serving Him and sharing His love. If we die, we enter His presence fully. Either way, we win.

This eternal perspective transforms how we face each day. We're not merely surviving until heaven; we're participating in bringing God's kingdom "on earth as it is in heaven." We get to be part of something far greater than ourselves.

In a world that constantly disappoints, where circumstances change and happiness fades, joy remains available to all who anchor their lives in Christ. Not because life becomes easy, but because we're held by Someone greater than our circumstances.

The invitation stands: Choose joy. Not naive positivity that ignores reality, but deep, abiding joy rooted in the unchanging reality of who Jesus is and what He's done. That kind of joy can sustain you through anything.

One of the best ways to discover the joy Paul describes is to spend time in his letter yourself. Philippians is only four chapters long, making it a wonderful book to read in one sitting or over a few days. As you read, notice how often Paul speaks about joy, encouragement, humility, and Christ—even while writing from prison.

To deepen your understanding of this remarkable letter and hear how these timeless truths speak into our lives today, we invite you to watch Pastor Mark's full message, Book of the Week: Philippians.

You may find that the joy you've been searching for isn't found in changing your circumstances, but in knowing Christ more deeply.

On August 2, 2026, our summer worship schedule will come to a close. So, we will return to our regular worship times on Sunday. Join us for worship at 8:30am, 10:30am, or both, if you so choose. As always, we will gather together to worship, grow, and welcome others into our church family.

Grab your Nerf blaster and get ready for an afternoon of laughter, friendly competition, and chicken nuggets!
Incoming 6th graders through current 8th graders are invited to Middle School Nerf & Nuggets Night on Wednesday, August 5, from 4:00-5:30 PM in the Gym. Bring your own Nerf blaster if you have one, or use one of ours. We'll provide extra blasters, darts, eye protection, chicken nuggets, refreshments, and everything else you need for a great afternoon.
This isn't just for serious Nerf people. Whether you're a Nerf expert or it's not really your thing, everyone is invited to jump in with challenges, hidden-identity games, and plenty of fun. It's a great opportunity to meet new friends, reconnect after the summer, and enjoy an afternoon together in a relaxed, welcoming environment.
No registration is needed—just show up, bring a friend, and come ready to have fun. We can't wait to see you there!

Standing on the edge of a dock at dawn, watching the sun break over Moon Lake in northern Manitoba, there's something profound about the quiet. The stillness. The anticipation of what might bite. Fishing has a way of teaching us patience, but it also reminds us of an ancient invitation—one that echoes through Scripture and into our lives today: "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." (Mark 1:17)

This isn't just a pleasant metaphor. It's a calling that refuses to let us settle.

The book of Acts is one of the most inconvenient books in the Bible for comfortable Christians.

We've established our homes, cultivated our friendships, filled our calendars, and created our safe spaces. We've built lives that feel complete—and then Acts comes along and disrupts everything. It pushes us out of our cozy church gatherings and familiar routines, asking us to become uncomfortable for the sake of something greater.

The disciples wanted to know the ending. Standing with the resurrected Jesus, they asked, "Is this when you'll restore the kingdom? How does this all wrap up?" (Acts 1:6) It's so human, isn't it? We desperately want to know how things will end—our careers, our health challenges, our children's futures, the state of the world.

But Jesus refused to give them the ending. Instead, He gave them a mission.


Don't worry about the endings, Jesus was saying. Focus on the living.

When a baby giraffe is born, it falls six to eight feet to the ground. Welcome to the world. Then the mother does something that seems cruel—she nudges the baby, sometimes repeatedly, with her powerful legs. Why? Because predators are lurking, and if the baby doesn't get up and start moving, it won't survive.

The early church experienced something similar.

Acts 8 records a shocking moment: "On that day a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria." (Acts 8:1) Stephen had just been stoned to death. Saul was dragging believers from their homes and throwing them in prison. The comfortable cocoon of 3,000 new believers in Jerusalem was violently torn open.

But here's what happened next: "Those who had been scattered preached the word wherever they went." (Acts 8:4)

They didn't hide. They didn't retreat into silence. As they fled for their lives, they witnessed. They shared. They proclaimed Christ in every place they landed.

This is how God creates a world-impacting, life-changing movement—not through comfort, but through the tension and struggle that forces us out of the nest.

Philip was a deacon, not an apostle. He was busy doing important work—performing miracles in Samaria, seeing people delivered from impure spirits, witnessing great joy breaking out in the city. His plate was full. His ministry was thriving.

Then the Spirit interrupted everything.

"Go south to the desert road," an angel told him. (Acts 8:26) So Philip left his successful ministry and walked fifty miles to a desolate road. There he met an Ethiopian eunuch—essentially the CEO of the Ethiopian National Bank—sitting in his chariot, reading the prophet Isaiah but not understanding it.

Philip explained the gospel. The man believed. They found water, and Philip baptized him right there on the spot.

Then, in one of Scripture's most fascinating moments, "the Spirit of the Lord suddenly took Philip away, and the eunuch did not see him again, but went on his way rejoicing." (Acts 8:39)

Philip didn't get to build a relationship. He didn't get to disciple this new believer or see the fruit of his labor. But that Ethiopian official went back to his country with his faith fixed in his heart, ready to witness in a part of the world that had never heard of Jesus.

One conversation. One person. Immeasurable impact.

The book of Acts reveals a pattern: the church impacts culture when people inside go outside.

Churches that remain insular—focused solely on internal education, good order, and fellowship—often become the most susceptible to cultural influences. But churches and individuals who move outward with conviction, who engage the world with the gospel, develop a strength and resilience that both impacts others and shields them from compromise.

This doesn't mean we neglect discipling the children in our midst. If we fail at that, we've failed at the heart of the gospel. But if we fail to reach the community God has placed us in, we've also failed at the heart of the gospel.

It's not either/or. It's both/and.

What does this look like in real life?

It looks like a pediatrician at a funeral home, discovering there's no one to officiate a service for an infant who has died. The family is from a different religious background. There's no pastor available. And in that moment, despite the fear and the unfamiliarity, he steps forward and offers comfort through faith.

It looks like seeing the new neighbors who just moved in and initiating a conversation instead of a wave.

It looks like the Vacation Bible School leader who serves not just the church kids but intentionally invites the community's children.

It looks like the workplace conversation with a colleague who's struggling, where you listen well and, when appropriate, share the hope you have in Christ.

It looks like being willing to be plucked out of your comfortable routine because the Spirit is leading you toward one more person who needs to hear about Jesus.

The book of Acts isn't just history. It's a commissioning—or perhaps a recommissioning—to the fundamental call woven throughout all of Scripture: to bear Spirit-powered witness wherever we go, for the global impact of God's kingdom.

From Abraham, who was called to be a blessing to the nations, to the early church scattering across the known world, to us today in our neighborhoods and workplaces, the call remains the same.

The movement hasn't stopped. The Spirit is still moving. The question is whether we'll move with Him.

So perhaps today is the day to stop searching for the end and start living the mission. To combat fear with faith. To trade familiarity for faithfulness. To look for the one more person God is placing in our path.

The book of Acts reminds us that we're called to go fishing—not for northern pike on a quiet Canadian lake, but for people who desperately need the hope of Jesus Christ.

The nets are ready. The Spirit is willing. The question is: are we?

The book of Acts isn't just the story of the early church. It's an invitation to discover how the Holy Spirit still works through ordinary people today.

This week, take time to read Acts for yourself. As you do, notice how God repeatedly uses unexpected people, unexpected places, and unexpected circumstances to advance His kingdom. Ask yourself, "Where might God be inviting me to join His work?"

To gain a deeper understanding of Acts—its historical context, major themes, and practical application—we invite you to watch Pastor Fred's full Book of the Week: Acts message. We pray it helps you read this remarkable book with fresh eyes and renewed confidence.

In June, we had the opportunity to partner with Pastor Vadim in Kyiv through our connection with Dave Nonnemacher. Through our Missions Budget, we were able to help send 20 refugee children to a Christian camp called Vysota, which translates to "The Heights."

The timing of this opportunity has been especially meaningful. As bombing in and around Kyiv has intensified again over the past several weeks, these children have been able to spend time in a safe, encouraging environment where they can experience God's love, build friendships, and simply enjoy being kids.

Thank you for your faithful generosity. Your giving allows us to come alongside trusted ministry partners at just the right time, providing practical support and sharing the hope of Christ in meaningful and impactful ways.

Hello brothers, good afternoon;

God bless you. I hope you are doing well; here in Guaymas, the heat has already risen above 105°F. We have been doing street evangelism over the past few weeks, and on Saturday, we wrapped up with an outreach event at the city sports court.

Praise the Lord, several families and children—about 60 people in total—came over. Some allowed us to pray for them, and others accepted Christ into their hearts, so we are going to begin discipleship work with these new families.

I ask that you continue to pray for us. We continue working with great joy in Empalme.

On Sunday, July 19, from 8:45–9:30 AM, FRC will have a breakfast available for incoming 6th-8th grade students, in The Loft. There will be a short welcome around 9:00 AM, some table talk and prayer, then an opportunity for students to sit with friends for worship at 9:30. This would also be a perfect opportunity for students to invite a friend to church.

On Wednesday, July 22 at 4:30–7:30 PM FRC will take over the dining room of Orange City's local Pizza Ranch. Students who attend can expect to enjoy a free buffet, and a short BYOB (Bring Your Own Bible) table conversation, where students will share a favorite verse or ask a questions about Scripture. After eating, students will head out for an afterparty activity to burn off some of their pizza-fueled energy.

In the summer heat of early July, as fireworks light up the night sky and families gather to celebrate freedom, there's a profound connection between our nation's birth story and the greatest story ever told. Just as the founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence knowing they were risking everything—potentially signing their own execution orders—the Gospel of Mark presents us with a Jesus who risked everything, who gave everything, for our freedom.

The Gospel of Mark doesn't begin with genealogies or birth narratives. It jumps straight into the action, beginning with Jesus' baptism and immediately launching into His ministry. This is a gospel written with urgency, moving from miracle to miracle with breathless intensity. "And then this happened, and then this, and then imagine this!"

Mark's style mirrors the excitement of witnessing something extraordinary unfold. It's like listening to eyewitnesses recount an incredible weekend—the words tumbling out in rapid succession because the story is just too good to tell slowly.

From the very beginning, Mark shows us a Jesus who is powerful beyond measure. He calms storms with a word. He heals the paralyzed, drives out demons, and raises the sick from their beds. Crowds numbering in the thousands follow Him wherever He goes, desperate to witness His power or experience His healing touch.

But here's where the Gospel takes an unexpected turn. Jesus is more than just a miracle worker. He's more than a spiritual superhero who shows up when we're in trouble and disappears when life calms down.

It's tempting to treat Jesus like a genie in a bottle—someone we call on only when the storm threatens to capsize our boat. We've all been there, riding the elevator to our own personal "final exam," thinking, "If Jesus would just come back right now and rescue me from this moment, I'd be okay with that."

Sometimes God does answer those desperate prayers. Sometimes He performs the miracle we're begging for. But Jesus came to offer something far greater than temporary relief from our circumstances. He came to deliver us from a much deeper prison—the prison of sin and its eternal consequences.

Midway through his gospel, Mark records a pivotal conversation. (Mark 8:27-30) Jesus asks His disciples, "Who do people say I am?"

They offer various answers: John the Baptist, Elijah, one of the prophets.

Then Jesus makes it personal: "But what about you? Who do you say I am?"

Peter answers boldly: "You are the Messiah."

This is the question that echoes through the centuries to each of us today. Not "Who do historians say Jesus was?" or "Who does the culture say Jesus is?" but "Who do YOU say He is?"

Your answer to that question changes everything.

The disciples got one thing right—Jesus was the Messiah. But they got the implications spectacularly wrong. They expected a political revolutionary, someone who would overthrow Roman occupation and establish an earthly kingdom of power and prestige.
Instead, Jesus began talking about suffering. About dying. About giving His life as a ransom.

When James and John (with their mother's help) asked to sit at Jesus' right and left hand in His kingdom, the other disciples were indignant. Who did they think they were, claiming the seats of honor?

Jesus' response turned their understanding of greatness upside down: "Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." (Mark 10:43-45)

This is the heart of the gospel message. True power isn't found in position, possessions, or political influence. True greatness is found in service. And the greatest act of service in human history was God Himself taking on human flesh and dying a criminal's death to set us free.

When asked about the greatest commandment, Jesus quoted Deuteronomy: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength." Then He added, "Love your neighbor as yourself." (Mark 12:28-34)

All the religious rituals, all the sacrifices and offerings, mean nothing without these two fundamental commitments: loving God completely and loving others sacrificially. Jesus told the teacher who understood this, "You are not far from the kingdom of God."
How close are we to the kingdom? Are we putting into practice this radical love that Jesus modeled?

Mark's gospel slows down dramatically in its final chapters, devoting nearly half the book to Jesus' final week. The crucifixion is described in painful detail. The tomb is sealed. The disciples scatter in fear and confusion.

Then comes Sunday morning. Women arrive at the tomb with burial spices, only to find the stone rolled away. A young man in white tells them, "He has risen! He is not here. Go, tell His disciples."

And here's where Mark does something brilliant and unsettling. The earliest manuscripts end with these words: "Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid." (Mark 16:8)

Wait—that's it? That's how it ends?

Yes. It's a cliffhanger. A moment of suspense that forces us to ask: What will YOU do with this news?

Good news is not meant to be kept silent. The gospel—the "good news" of Jesus—is meant to be shared. Yet Mark ends his account with people too afraid to speak.

The irony is beautiful. Earlier in the gospel, Jesus performed miracles and told people, "Don't tell anyone." Of course, they immediately told everyone. Now, at the most crucial moment, when the angel says, "Go tell," they're silent.

Mark leaves us with two questions echoing across the centuries:

First: Who do you say Jesus is? Is He the Son of God, the Messiah, the one who died and rose again to save you from sin?

Second: What will you do about it? Will you keep silent, or will you share the good news?

Without Jesus' death, we stand accused. But by His death and resurrection, we are made brand new. We have hope beyond this life. We have freedom from sin's prison. We have the assurance that death is not the end.

This is news too good to keep to ourselves.

The women eventually did speak. The disciples eventually did tell. The gospel spread across the known world and continues spreading today. Two billion copies of the Gospels have been distributed by one organization alone, with countless more by others.

But the question remains for each of us: Will you believe this good news? And will you share it?

The tomb is empty. Jesus is alive. The question is no longer whether the good news is true, but how you will respond to it.

The Gospel of Mark was written to be experienced. In just 16 chapters, Mark takes readers on a fast-paced journey through the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus, constantly asking one central question: Who do you say Jesus is?

If you've never read Mark from beginning to end, this week is a great opportunity. Read it in one or two sittings if you can, and notice how every story points you toward a decision about Jesus.

To deepen your understanding of Mark's background, themes, and practical application, we invite you to watch Pastor Mark's full Book of the Week: Mark message. It will help you see the bigger picture of this remarkable Gospel and encourage you to keep exploring God's Word for yourself.

Discover the joy of studying God's Word with greater confidence. Join us for See for Yourself, a 10-session women's Bible study by Kelly Needham that will equip you with practical tools to better understand and engage Scripture, no matter where you are in your faith journey. The study meets Mondays, August 3-October 5, from 6:30-8:00 p.m. in the Chapel.

There's a haunting reality most of us don't want to face: by global standards, nearly all of us are wealthy. The average American citizen enjoys a higher standard of living than 85-90% of the world's population. This isn't about the top 1%—this is about ordinary people living ordinary American lives.

When we read Scripture with this awareness, something uncomfortable happens. The passages about "the rich" suddenly apply to us. The warnings about wealth become personal. And one of the most challenging books in the entire Bible—the book of Amos—demands our attention.

Amos wasn't a religious professional. He wasn't a priest or a trained prophet. He was a shepherd and a fig farmer, living near the border between northern Israel and southern Judah around 750 BC. He was, by all accounts, a nobody.

But God called this nobody to deliver one of the most scorching messages in Scripture to the northern kingdom of Israel. It was a nation experiencing unprecedented military success and economic prosperity under King Jeroboam II. Victory in battle had brought territorial expansion and wealth. By all worldly measures, Israel was thriving.

Yet in God's eyes, something was catastrophically wrong.

The book of Amos opens with a literary technique that would have captured every listener's attention. Amos begins pronouncing judgment on Israel's surrounding enemies—Damascus, Gaza, Tyre, Edom, Ammon, Moab. Each pronouncement would have brought cheers from the Israelites. "Yes! Tell them, prophet! They deserve God's judgment!"

But Amos was creating a bullseye, with each nation forming an outer ring. When he finished circling Israel's enemies, he turned his prophetic gaze to the center: Israel itself. And the accusation he leveled against God's own people was three times longer and more intense than anything he said about the pagan nations.

The indictment was devastating: "They sell the innocent for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals. They trample on the heads of the poor as on the dust of the ground and deny justice to the oppressed" (Amos 2:6-7).

What does it mean to sell someone for a pair of sandals? The phrase reveals two horrifying realities about ancient Israel's treatment of the poor.

First, it described corruption in the courts. Wealthy landowners could bribe judges for the price of sandals—perhaps $30-50 in today's currency—to confiscate land from poor families who couldn't afford counter-bribes. Land wasn't just property; it was livelihood, inheritance, and survival. With a trivial bribe, the powerful could destroy the vulnerable.

Second, it described predatory lending. A poor person desperate for sandals—a basic necessity in a world of hot, rocky roads—would be offered credit at 20-50% interest. Unable to repay, they'd offer the only collateral they had: their children. Sons and daughters would become debt slaves, working on the creditor's farm indefinitely to pay back a loan for a pair of shoes.

This was happening throughout Israel. Injustice in the courts. Exploitation by merchants. The poor denied representation and advocacy. And the wealthy? They simply didn't care.

Perhaps the most chilling passage in Amos describes the lifestyle of Israel's elite:

"You lie on beds adorned with ivory and lounge on your couches. You dine on choice lambs and fattened calves. You strum away on your harps like David and improvise on musical instruments. You drink wine by the bowlful and use the finest of lotions, but you do not grieve over the ruin of Joseph" (Amos 6:4-6).

They had luxury. They had entertainment. They had comfort. But they had no compassion.

The warning is stark: "Therefore you will be among the first to go into exile. Your feasting and lounging will end" (Amos 6:7). Within 30 years of Amos's prophecy, the Assyrian Empire would destroy the northern kingdom. The warning went unheeded.

Here's the principle that emerges: affluence without compassion brings judgment.

Perhaps the most shocking words in Amos come when God rejects Israel's worship:

"I hate, I despise your religious festivals. Your assemblies are a stench to me. Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them. Though you bring choice fellowship offerings, I will have no regard for them. Away with the noise of your songs. I will not listen to the music of your harps" (Amos 5:21-23).

The Israelites were still going through the motions of worship. They sang. They prayed. They brought offerings. They celebrated religious festivals. But God wanted none of it.

Why? Because worship inside the walls of the temple meant nothing when they failed to worship God outside those walls by caring for those He cares about.

Then comes the thundering call that serves as the theme of the entire book: "But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream" (Amos 5:24).

Worship outside the church validates worship inside the church. If we're not caring for the vulnerable in our daily lives, our Sunday morning songs are just noise.

The Hebrew word "ani" translated as "poor" in Amos encompasses more than economic poverty. It includes anyone considered lower social class: the financially disadvantaged, the disabled, the elderly, children, widows, the sick, the marginalized. God's protective concern extends to all who are vulnerable.

And here's the uncomfortable truth: God is impartial in His response to how we treat these people. He doesn't care about our political affiliation, our social status, our business success, or our community influence. He looks at every heart equally and asks one question: Are you caring for those who cannot care for themselves?

Caring for the poor involves risk. There are people who abuse generosity and take advantage of systems designed to help. This reality can make us cautious, even cynical.

But consider the alternative. Would we rather risk being taken advantage of by people, or risk standing before God having protected ourselves at the expense of His compassion? Would we rather lose some money or lose our hearts?

The book of Amos challenges us to guard against callousness. Once burned, twice shy might be worldly wisdom, but it's not kingdom wisdom.

We can have good intentions about helping the poor. We can believe it's important. We can say "someday" or "if the opportunity arises." But God doesn't measure intent. He measures activity.

Our culture makes it easy to be disconnected from poverty. The poor often live in different areas. We can go days, weeks, even months without encountering someone in desperate need. This insulation can allow our good intentions to remain forever inactive.

Integrity isn't what we intend to do. It's what we actually do.

Despite its harsh warnings, Amos ends with hope. After pronouncing judgment, the book concludes with a promise of restoration. God will repair what's broken. He will bring His people back. He will plant them in their land, never to be uprooted again.

This is the character of our God. He challenges us not because He's harsh, but because He's merciful. He warns us not to destroy us, but to save us from ourselves.

The most unfair thing in the universe is this: we receive far less punishment than we deserve and far more grace than we could ever earn. Jesus suffered injustice so we could receive mercy. He took the judgment we deserved so we could have the grace we don't deserve—not just for the next life, but for this one.

That grace empowers us to live differently now.

The book of Amos isn't just ancient history. It's a mirror held up to our comfortable lives, asking uncomfortable questions. In a world where we have so much, what is our responsibility to those who have so little?

The call isn't to solve every problem or fix every broken system. It's to not be complacent. It's to not become parasites on God's mercy, receiving it ourselves while withholding it from others.

It's to see the person in need not as a problem to avoid or a complication to ignore, but as an image-bearer of God, a fellow son or daughter of the King, worthy of love and care.

Let justice roll on like a river. Let righteousness flow like a never-failing stream.

Not someday. Not when it's convenient. Not when we've figured out all the complicated details.

Now.

The book of Amos may only be nine chapters long, but it delivers one of the Bible's clearest calls to justice, compassion, and wholehearted worship. As you read, notice how God's concern for the vulnerable is woven throughout the book and how His warnings are always rooted in His desire to restore His people.

To deepen your understanding of Amos and see how its message speaks into our lives today, we invite you to watch Pastor Fred's full message, Book of the Week: Amos. Whether you're reading Amos for the first time or revisiting it with fresh eyes, we hope this message helps you better understand God's heart and encourages you to engage with His Word for yourself.

Join us on Sunday, July 19, from 5:30-7:00 PM for a Hot Dogs & Ice Cream Social on the front lawn of First Reformed Church.

This will be a relaxed evening of fun, food, and fellowship as we gather together during the summer months. Enjoy hot dogs, ice cream, and the opportunity to connect with friends old and new in a casual outdoor setting.

Whether you have been attending First Reformed Church for years or are newer to our church family, we would love to have you join us. Bring your family, invite a friend, and come enjoy a summer evening together.

Everyone is welcome!

What does true courage look like when everything is on the line? The ancient story of Esther provides a masterclass in valor, providence, and the invisible yet invincible presence of God working through ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances.

The book of Esther stands unique among biblical texts—God's name is never mentioned once throughout its ten chapters. Yet His presence permeates every page, every decision, every seemingly coincidental turn of events. This is the beauty of divine providence: God's ability to see things before they happen and His plan to provide for us even in the most unexpected situations.

Think about the moments in your life when circumstances aligned in ways you couldn't have orchestrated. That job opportunity that came at just the right time. The person who entered your life precisely when you needed them. The danger you narrowly avoided without even knowing it was there. These aren't coincidences—they're God-incidences, evidence of a Heavenly Father who is never flustered, never caught off guard, and never thwarted by human schemes.

Set in ancient Persia around 483 BC, the book of Esther unfolds in a world of political intrigue, ethnic hatred, and life-threatening decisions. The Jewish people, scattered throughout the Persian Empire, faced systematic annihilation at the hands of Haman, a powerful official consumed by anti-Semitic hatred.

Enter Esther—a young Jewish woman who had become queen through a series of remarkable events. But she wasn't alone. Behind her stood Mordecai, her older cousin who had raised her after her parents died. Mordecai was more than family; he was a father figure who had instilled in her the values, courage, and faith she would desperately need.

The crisis came to a head when Haman convinced King Xerxes to sign an edict calling for the destruction of all Jews in the empire. Only one person had potential access to the king to plead for her people's lives: Queen Esther. But approaching the king uninvited could mean death.

Mordecai's words to Esther have echoed through the centuries: "For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this" (Esther 4:14).

For such a time as this. Five words that capture the essence of divine purpose meeting human courage.

But here's what makes this moment so powerful: Mordecai could only challenge Esther to act with courage because he had already demonstrated it himself. Twice before, he had taken life-risking stands. He had reported an assassination plot against the king. He had refused to bow before Haman when everyone else complied. His valor wasn't theoretical—it was tested and proven.

You cannot ask someone else to do something you haven't first done yourself. Esther could step forward with courage because she had watched Mordecai model it throughout her life.

Esther's response reveals spiritual maturity: "Go, gather together all the Jews who are in Susa, and fast for me. Do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my attendants will fast as you do. When this is done, I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish" (Esther 4:16).

Notice what she did before acting. She stopped. She called for prayer and fasting. She prepared spiritually for what she was about to do physically.

In our reactionary world, we often leap before we look, responding to crises with panic, anger, or impulsive decisions. Esther teaches us a different way: Be still. Seek God. Surrender completely. Then act with conviction.

What happened next reads like a thriller. Esther approached the king and found favor. She invited him and Haman to a banquet—then another. Between these banquets, the king couldn't sleep and called for the historical records to be read. He discovered that Mordecai had never been honored for saving his life.

The very next morning, the king ordered Haman—who hated Mordecai and had prepared a pole to impale him on—to publicly honor Mordecai throughout the city. The irony was divine.

At the second banquet, Esther revealed Haman's plot to destroy her people. The king, enraged, had Haman impaled on the very pole prepared for Mordecai. A new edict was issued, and the Jewish people were saved.

Every piece fell into place not by chance, but by the providential hand of God working through people willing to act with courage.

This ancient story pulses with relevance for today. We live in uncertain times, surrounded by challenges that can feel overwhelming. But the God who protected His people in 483 BC is the same God who watches over us now.

When you face a tough situation, ask this: Where is God in this? Not is God in this – because He IS there – but start to look for where He is. How is He providing? How is He orchestrating the circumstances? And how should I respond?

Where is God calling you to stand firm? What situation in your life requires valor rather than panic? What compromise are you being pressured to make that you should refuse to bow to?

Check under the hood of your courage. Is your engine of valor running smoothly, or are you operating on fumes? Are you prone to fight-or-flight responses, or can you stand firm with conviction when the moment requires it?

Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of this story is how courage multiplies. Mordecai's valor inspired Esther's. Together, they saved a nation. The legacy of their courage has inspired millions across centuries.

What legacy are you building? Who is watching your response to difficulty, opposition, or risk? Your children? Your colleagues? Your community?

God has placed you exactly where you are for such a time as this. Not by accident. Not by coincidence. By divine design.

The world needs people who will stop, be still, see God at work, and then act with courage, conviction, integrity, and faith. People who understand that while God is invisible to the eye, He is invincible in reality. People who trust that the same God who orchestrated Esther's story is orchestrating theirs.

The engine of courage isn't something we manufacture ourselves—it's fueled by connection with the God who is never thwarted, never surprised, and always faithful. When we stay close to Him, when we stop and listen, when we prepare spiritually before acting physically, He provides everything we need to face whatever comes.

For such a time as this, you are here. The question is: Will you stand firm?

The book of Esther is filled with surprising twists, courageous faith, and evidence of God's unseen hand at work. With only ten chapters, it's a great book to dive into and read in its entirety, perhaps even in one sitting.

As you read Esther this week, watch Pastor Fred's full message, Book of the Week: Esther, to gain a clearer understanding of the book's themes, historical context, and powerful reminder that God is at work even when He seems hidden.

We’re excited to return to Compton October 19-26! This Fall, we will be working alongside City Church to help with community goals.

This trip is a great opportunity to strengthen existing relationships and build new ones—both with the people of Compton and within our First Reformed community.

There's something powerful about vows. We witness them at weddings, we renew them at anniversaries, and sometimes we speak them after seasons of struggle and reconciliation. These moments of commitment—whether between spouses, within a church community, or in our personal walk with God—anchor us to what truly matters.

But here's the uncomfortable truth: vows fade when we stop remembering them.

One of the greatest risks for anyone who has walked with God for a while is the temptation to assume Him. We assume He's there. We assume He's reliable. We assume He'll forgive our sins because He always does. We assume the promise of eternal life without tending to the relationship that makes it meaningful.

It's like that callous husband who told his wife on their wedding day that he loved her, then added, "Don't expect to hear it again. If anything changes, I'll let you know." Not exactly the foundation for a thriving relationship, is it?

The book of Deuteronomy addresses this very danger. Written as Moses' farewell speech to Israel just before they entered the Promised Land, it serves as an urgent reminder: Don't assume God. Don't let your faith fade.

Picture the scene: The Israelites had spent forty years wandering in the wilderness—not because that was God's plan, but because of their own rebellion. A generation earlier, they had stood on the edge of the Promised Land, ready to enter. But they grumbled, complained, and turned away from God's leading. The consequence? That entire generation would pass away in the wilderness. Only their children would enter the land flowing with milk and honey.

Now, four decades later, a new generation stood ready. Moses, their aging leader, knew he wouldn't cross over with them. So he gathered the people and delivered a series of messages over approximately forty days—messages we now know as the book of Deuteronomy, which literally means "second law."

These weren't just history lessons or legal codes. They were a passionate plea: Remember. Don't forget. Renew your vow to God.

At the core of Deuteronomy lies what Jewish tradition calls the Shema—from the Hebrew word meaning "to hear." Following the repetition of the Ten Commandments, Moses declared words that have echoed through generations:

"Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength." (Deuteronomy 6:4-5)

These words cut through all the religious complexity and get to the heart of what God desires from us. It's not primarily about following a checklist of behaviors or avoiding certain sins. It's about a heart fully devoted to God—loving Him with every fiber of our being, every corner of our lives, every hidden closet we'd rather keep closed.

When Jesus was later asked about the greatest commandment, He quoted these very words from Deuteronomy, adding a second from Leviticus: "Love your neighbor as yourself." (Matthew 22:36-40) All of Scripture, Jesus said, hangs on these two commands.

The warning against fading isn't theoretical. We see it happen. Sometimes it's the person who faced a difficult season and couldn't get past their anger with God. Other times it's the person whose life is going so well they simply forget to maintain the relationship.

Consider Brad Pitt, raised in a strong Southern Baptist family, who gradually came to see Christianity as "emotional manipulation" and a series of don'ts. Or Katy Perry, raised Pentecostal, who slowly drifted from belief in the God of the Christian faith. These are public examples of a private reality many experience: the incremental slide from devotion to distance.

But here's what makes this particularly sobering: Adults who fade often raise children who abandon faith entirely. It doesn't take many generations for spiritual vitality to disappear completely. Grandparents attend weekly, parents go twice a month, their children show up only on Christmas and Easter, and their children? Perhaps not at all.

The reverse is also true. Adults who deliberately remember and renew their faith tend to raise devoted followers. Consistency matters. Authenticity matters. A faith that transforms daily life—not just Sunday attendance—makes an impression that lasts.

Near the end of Deuteronomy, Moses presents Israel with a stark choice: "I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life." (Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

For the Lord is your life. Not a part of your life. Not an aspect you manage alongside career, relationships, hobbies, and health. He IS your life.

The apostle Paul would later echo this: "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." (Galatians 2:20) Every decision—about sports, academics, relationships, medical care, family, work—flows from this central reality.

Here's the bottom line: Faith decisions are made either deliberately or by default. You will make a decision about Christ, about the God of the Bible, whether you actively choose or passively drift.

Think about a suntan. When you return from a tropical vacation in January, that golden glow seems permanent. But without continued exposure to the sun's intensity, it fades. You don't have to do anything for it to fade—that happens automatically.

The same is true spiritually. Unless you stay continually exposed to the light and warmth of the Son of God, your spiritual life will fade. Your commitment will pale. Your devotion will cool.

Israel's life faded repeatedly because they forgot. They grew spiritually pale because they allowed distance to creep in between themselves and God.

Deuteronomy functions like the two-minute warning in a football game—a reminder that intensity matters now, that what happens next is crucial. It's the final timeout before the championship moment, the last chance to remember what you're playing for.

This ancient book invites us to ask ourselves honest questions:

• Over the past six months or year, have I thrived in my faith or faded?
• Am I growing in my devotion to God, or is it slipping?
• What areas of my life remain closed off from God's lordship?
• Do I truly love God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength?

The beauty of reading Deuteronomy is its relentless reminder: Don't forget. Come back. Call out to the name of God. Acknowledge and take to heart that there is one God, and we will serve Him.

We don't live for ourselves on this planet. We live for a God who loves us and calls us to love Him with everything we have.

The question isn't whether we'll make a faith decision. The question is whether we'll make it deliberately—with intention, passion, and renewed commitment—or by default, allowing the slow fade to continue until our faith becomes unrecognizable.

Today is an opportunity to renew your vow. To re-up your commitment. To revitalize the energy you have for your faith in Christ.

Choose life. Choose to remember. Choose to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.

For the Lord IS your life.

Deuteronomy is much more than a collection of laws. It is a passionate call to remember God's faithfulness, renew our commitment to Him, and choose a life centered on His presence. In this message, Pastor Fred explores the historical context of Deuteronomy, the significance of the Shema, and the challenge to remain faithful rather than allowing our faith to slowly fade.

If you'd like to dive deeper into the themes of Deuteronomy and hear the full message, we invite you to watch Pastor Fred's sermon.

Brazil Mission Trip Wish List
This August, a team from First Reformed Church will travel to Manaus, Brazil, where we will partner with an indigenous missionary serving among the Hixkaryana tribe. Together, we will travel by boat along the Amazon River, build relationships, encourage local believers, and share the hope of the Gospel in remote communities.

As we prepare for the trip, we have the opportunity to bring items that can be used to bless indigenous families and support ministry efforts while we are there. We invite our church family to partner with us through donations and prayer.

Ways You Can Help
1) Purchase Items from Our Amazon Wish List: Many of the needed items can be purchased through our Amazon Wish List and shipped directly to the church. This makes it easy for our team to collect, organize, and pack supplies before departure.

2) Purchase Mission Balls: Mission Balls are a simple but effective ministry tool that help create opportunities to connect with children and families. Choose the Portuguese language when purchasing.

3) Create Handmade Items: Volunteers are invited to knit or crochet potholders and other simple handmade items that can be shared as gifts with families we meet along the way. Contact Sara Van Zee if you are interested in creating handmade items.

4) Give Financially: Financial gifts help cover ministry supplies, transportation of materials, and other outreach opportunities connected to the trip. Designate your gift “Brazil Mission Trip Fund.”

Learn More
You can stop by the Mission Desk in the Fellowship Hall or speak with Sara Van Zee to learn more about how you can partner with our Brazil team as we prepare to share the love of Christ with the Hixkaryana people.

Habitat for Humanity Home Build

This summer, Habitat for Humanity is building a home in Orange City for the Chavez family. First Reformed Church is excited to partner in this effort and provide opportunities for our congregation to serve alongside Habitat volunteers throughout the construction process.
Volunteer workdays for our church are currently being coordinated. Because construction schedules depend on weather, materials, inspections, and building progress, volunteer dates are still being finalized. Once dates are confirmed, sign-up opportunities will be posted here.

If you would like to be notified as soon as volunteer opportunities become available, please contact Sara Van Zee. She will be compiling a list of interested volunteers and sharing updates as dates are announced.

We are grateful for the opportunity to come alongside the Chavez family and our community partners as we help build a place they can call home. Please continue to pray for the family, the volunteers, and the ongoing construction process.

Volunteer Sign-Ups:
Sign-up links will be posted here as soon as volunteer dates are finalized.

Ladies! Join us for a beautiful morning of fun and fellowship! Allie & Suzanne are hosting a DIY & Drinks Event! We'll be painting our own doormats and sipping on fun *Dirty Sodas. The cost is $15 to cover your supplies. Please sign up by June 13th!

*non-alcoholic

If you have questions, please contact Allie Eckmann.

There's something deeply compelling about origins. We want to know where we came from, why things are the way they are, and whether there's any hope for the chaos we see around us. The book of Genesis addresses these fundamental questions with stunning clarity and profound wisdom.

Genesis isn't just an ancient text collecting dust on library shelves. It's a living document that speaks directly to the deepest questions of human existence: Who is God? Who are we? And what is God doing in this world that we can be part of?

Here's something crucial to understand: the Bible isn't primarily meant to fill our heads with facts. It's designed to transform our lives. Second Timothy 3:16-17 makes this crystal clear: "All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work."

Notice those action words: teaching, rebuking, correcting, training, equipping. This is active engagement, not passive reading. Scripture is meant to change us incrementally and dramatically over the course of our lives.

Genesis is the book of beginnings—the beginning of the world, of humanity, of a good creation, of a terrible rebellion, and of a redemption plan carried out through one family line. Written by Moses around 1450 BC, this historical narrative has survived over three millennia to provide impact for every generation since.

The opening words set the stage: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters" (Genesis 1:1-2).

From chaos, God brings order. From darkness, God brings light. And at the pinnacle of creation, God makes something truly unique: "Then God said, 'Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness...So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them'" (Genesis 1:26-27).

We are God's unique creation, separate from all other aspects of the created realm, designed to uniquely represent and reflect who He is. When God finished all His creative work, He declared it not just good, but "very good."

But Genesis doesn't stop with creation. It introduces something profound: choice. God places humanity in the garden with freedom and responsibility. "You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die" (Genesis 2:16-17).

The choice humanity made—both the woman and the man, both equally culpable—brought about consequences that echo through every generation. Fear entered the equation. Pain became part of childbearing. Work became toilsome. Death became inevitable.

Yet even in the midst of pronouncing consequences, God provided hope. Speaking to the serpent, God declared: "I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel" (Genesis 3:15).

This is the first promise of redemption, pointing forward to Jesus Christ, whose broken body and shed blood would ultimately defeat sin and death.

Here's what we learn from Genesis 3: We are more flawed than we ever realized, and we are more loved than we could ever know.

We are deeply flawed because every part of our being is infected by sin. Our natural trajectory leads away from God. The consequences are real and painful.

But we must be deeply loved. How can we not be? The first curse goes to the devil himself, with a promise that One will crush the serpent's head in our defense. For our benefit, for our redemption, for our freedom and ultimate forgiveness, Jesus steps into the gap.

If you ever doubt whether anyone loves you or cares, sink your heart into Genesis chapter 3. It's a reminder that we are so, so deeply loved.

After the flood and the scattering at Babel, God focuses His redemptive plan on one man: Abraham. "Go from your country...to the land I will show you. I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing...and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you" (Genesis 12:1-3).

This is the hinge of Genesis and of the entire biblical story. God's plan is to rescue and bless His rebellious world through Abraham's family, eventually leading to the Messiah whose reign would bring justice and peace to all nations.

Notice the outward focus: God blesses Abraham so that all families of the earth will be blessed through him. What we receive is not meant to be hoarded but shared. The blessing is never just for us—it's meant to flow through us to others.

Genesis doesn't shy away from hard questions. Why does a good God allow evil? What does God do with it?

The answer begins in the garden. Evil is the consequence of human rebellion. God created a world where choice was possible because He wanted relationship, not robots. The potential for evil existed, and humanity chose it. We own that. We own the consequences.
But Genesis doesn't leave us there. The story of Joseph (chapters 37-50) provides a framework for understanding how God works in the midst of evil and suffering.

Joseph's brothers threw him in a pit, sold him into slavery, and he spent years wrongly imprisoned. Yet he eventually became second-in-command of Egypt, positioned to save countless lives during a famine. When confronting his brothers years later, Joseph said something profound: "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives" (Genesis 50:20).

Joseph looked evil in the face and acknowledged it fully—"you intended to harm me." There's no minimizing, no false positivity. But he also saw God's hand: "God intended it for good."

This is where Genesis becomes deeply personal. We all face evil, suffering, and injustice. We've all experienced things that break our hearts. How do we frame those experiences?

We have a choice: respond with anger, accusation, and blame, or respond with Joseph's perspective. We can acknowledge the real harm—"you intended to harm me"—while also recognizing God's redemptive work: "but God brought something through it."

This doesn't make the evil good. It doesn't minimize the pain. But it provides hope and meaning in the midst of suffering.

Genesis is your story and mine. It connects directly to the very real stuff we face. The redemptive thread that begins in Genesis 3:15 weaves through the Old Testament, lands at the cross, continues through the empty tomb, and brings us to the second coming of Christ.

God made it. We broke it. God fixes it. And we're called to be engaged in His redemptive work.

That's the message of Genesis—the book of beginnings that speaks to our endings and everything in between. It's a message of hope, redemption, and transformation for anyone willing to engage with its truth.

Genesis is more than a story about the distant past. It's the foundation of God's ongoing work of redemption in the world and in our lives. To learn more about the themes, context, and practical lessons from this remarkable book, we invite you to watch Pastor Fred's full message and discover how the book of beginnings continues to shape our faith today.

Splitting Wood for Corn Creek   

For many years, First Reformed Church has partnered with Corn Creek, a Native American reservation near Parmelee, South Dakota. One meaningful way we serve is by preparing firewood to help heat homes during the winter. Just a few hours of wood splitting can provide warmth for days.  

This is a tangible expression of agape love, love that serves, gives, and meets real needs.
Wood splitting will take place at Ron De Jong’s farm (3536 480th Street, Orange City) on the following Wednesday evenings: June 3, June 17, July 8, July 22  

We’ll work from 5:00 to 8:00 PM each evening, and hot dogs will be served at 6:30 PM for everyone who comes and helps.  

We’re also looking for people willing to provide goodies or treats to share with workers each night. If you’d be willing to help in that way, it would be greatly appreciated.
All willing hands are welcome. Whether you can help run wood, stack, split, or simply serve alongside others, we’d love to have you join us.  

Are you ready to take a next step in your faith? Profession of faith is a meaningful way to share your story, affirm what you believe, and publicly commit to following Jesus as part of this church family. If you’re interested in starting the process, visit frcoc.org/profess to learn more.

Jeff & Niccie Kliegl are hosting us for a fun night of Glow-in-the-dark Golf and a cookout at their house in Alton! We will meet at their house and Jeff so graciously said he will grill for us! After supper and after it gets dark, we will hit the course! On the sign up, please indicate if you will need golf clubs. If you have your own, please bring them.

Jeff & Niccie's address: 1007 7th Ave, Alton, IA. 

If you have questions, please contact Allie Eckmann.