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Discover the fascinating linguistic evolution of the name of the Messiah. From its Hebrew roots as "Yeshua" to the modern English "Jesus," this article traces how shifting sounds and changing alphabets across four languages shaped the name we know today.
Palm Sunday: “Hosanna” to “Crucify”—our hearts mirror the crowd's fickleness. Yet the humble King rides to die for us anyway. Follow Him through Holy Week.
Today we continue our study of Psalm 119, the longest of the Psalms and one arranged in an format of twenty two stanzas, each of which uses and emphasises one of the letters of the Hebrew alphabet.
On Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, we gather around Matthew 6 and Psalm 103 to ask a question that cuts to the heart of every spiritual discipline: why do we do what we do? Jesus warns against practicing our righteousness to be seen by others—whether in giving, praying, or fasting—because those who perform for human applause have already received their reward in full. Even the imposition of ashes, visible as it is, stands apart from that kind of hypocrisy: it is not a badge of superior devotion but a corporate confession of our shared fragility and need. We are dust. And yet, as Psalm 103 reminds us, God knows our frame, remembers our weakness, and meets us not with condemnation but with steadfast love. This Lent, we are invited to audit our hearts—to give secretly, to pray privately, to fast quietly—not to earn God's favor, but to lay down our pretenses and receive what we could never manufacture: the righteousness of Christ, given freely in the great exchange.
In this Second Sunday of Lent sermon, we follow Nicodemus—a powerful, educated religious leader—as he slips into the night to seek out Jesus. What he encounters shatters every assumption about how we earn our way to God. Through John 3:1–16, Romans 4, and Psalm 33, one truth emerges with striking clarity: no amount of religion, intellect, or moral achievement can produce what only God can give—a life born from above. Just as Abraham was justified by faith, not performance, we are invited to stop striving and start trusting. And at the center of it all stands the cross—the ultimate "lifting up"—where the remedy for our broken condition was made available to whoever believes.
Fourth Sunday in Lent: Seven sons passed over. A healed beggar thrown out. Both found by the one who sees what no one else sees. Jesus still walks into the forgotten places and asks: "Do you believe in the Son of Man?" This changes everything.
