Living Faithfully in a Complex World

Good morning, everyone. If you have a Bible, turn to Romans 13.

We’ve been walking through the book of Romans together… and one of the things we’ve been seeing over and over again is that Paul is not just about teaching ideas. He’s about forming people.

He’s trying to shape a community that lives differently in the world because they’ve been transformed by the mercy of God.

Which sounds beautiful… until it starts touching the parts of life we feel emotionally attached to.

Which means eventually Romans was always going to bring us here… Romans 13… the chapter about…

Government…
Authority…
Taxes…
Laws…
Culture…
Love…
Morality…
And what it means to live faithfully in a complicated world.

Which, depending on your personality, either sounds deeply interesting… or like the beginning of a stressful family dinner.

Or as some of you might call it: “the reason I avoid Facebook.”

Political conversations are fascinating because they tend to start calm.

It’s like: “I just think we should have a thoughtful conversation…”

And 15 minutes later someone’s quoting economic policy with the emotional intensity of a hostage negotiation.

No one remembers how the conversation started, but everyone feels attacked.

Part of what makes this passage difficult is we don’t come to it neutrally.

We bring…

Frustration
And fear
And cynicism
And political exhaustion
And strong opinions
And personal experiences
And news headlines
And social media reflexes

Some of us hear “submit to governing authorities” and immediately think: “Well, what about corrupt authority?”

Others hear it and think: “Finally… someone should tell people how to behave.”

And before Paul has even finished his first sentence, we’ve already started building arguments in our heads.

But what Paul is actually aiming at is deeper than political alignment.

He’s asking:

What kind of people does the gospel create?
What does it look like to belong to the kingdom of Jesus while living inside imperfect human systems?
How do you live faithfully without becoming cynical?
How do you engage the world without being consumed by outrage?
How do you hold convictions without losing love?
How do you become the kind of person who reflects Jesus in a culture constantly trying to form you into something else?

Because one of the great temptations in every generation is to slowly fuse Christianity with some other identity.

Politics
Nationalism
Ideology
Tribe
Power

CS Lewis warned about what he called “Christianity and…”

Christianity and some political movement.
Christianity and some ideology.
Christianity and some cultural agenda.

And once that fusion happens, people stop following Jesus himself and begin treating the gospel as support material for some other cause.

But the gospel of Jesus transcends every political party, every ideology, every nation, and every earthly kingdom.

And that’s really been the heartbeat of this entire section of Romans.

Romans 12 began with:

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. (Romans 12:2)

And now Paul is showing us what that transformation actually looks like in the real world.

How we respond to conflict.
How we treat enemies.
How we handle power.
How we relate to authority.
How we love our neighbor.
How we live in the middle of a dark and anxious world.

And what’s striking is that Paul writes all of this to people living under the Roman Empire.

It’s not a Christian nation.
It’s not a friendly government.
It’s not a system built around their values.

Which means Romans 13 is not written from a place of cultural comfort. It’s written to people learning how to live faithfully when the surrounding culture doesn’t naturally support their faith.

Which means it’s more relevant than we think.

So today we’re going to walk through Romans 13 together. And what we’re going to discover is that Paul’s vision is far bigger than political behavior.

It’s about becoming people who live with wisdom… and love… and light in the middle of a complicated world.

And Paul begins this way:

Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. (Romans 13:1)

Now let’s just admit something right away.

Throughout history people have used Romans 13 to justify terrible things:

Oppressive governments
Abuse of power
Silencing dissent
Blind obedience

And because of that, many modern readers almost instinctively push back against this passage before they even sit with it.

Which is understandable.

But it’s also important that we don’t oversimplify what Paul is actually saying.

Because Paul is not saying: “All authority is good.”

He’s not saying: “Governments are always moral.”

And he’s definitely not saying: “Followers of Jesus should never resist evil.”

In the Old Testament, Hebrew midwives disobey Pharaoh because preserving life mattered more than obeying unjust commands.

Daniel continues praying when the law says he can’t.

Peter and the apostles in Acts openly tell authorities: “We must obey God rather than human beings.”

Even Paul himself is eventually imprisoned and executed by the same Roman system he’s talking about here.

So clearly Romans 13 cannot mean: “Authority is always right.” That would contradict the rest of Scripture.

What Paul is talking about here is something more foundational.

He’s saying that human authority structures themselves are part of God’s ordering of society.

That without any authority… without any structure… without any accountability… society collapses into chaos.

Even flawed authority restrains greater evil.

And deep down, most of us actually believe that.

Because no one truly wants a world with no laws… no police… no courts… no consequences… no traffic systems — especially in the Bay Area.

If you think people drive aggressively now, imagine if we collectively decided:
“You know what? Traffic lights are really more of a personal suggestion.”

Some of you already treat them that way. You see yellow and think: “This is less of a command and more of a recommendation.”

But Paul understands something important about human nature.

Sin does not merely corrupt individuals. It also corrupts systems… and cultures… and economies… and relationships… and societies.

Which means ordered authority — even imperfect authority — is one of the ways God restrains total human destruction.

And that’s important because Christians in Rome could have easily drifted toward two extremes.

One extreme was violent rebellion: “Rome is corrupt, therefore we reject all authority.”

The other extreme was total assimilation: “Rome is powerful, therefore we give it ultimate allegiance.”

Paul rejects both.

Followers of Jesus are not anarchists. But neither are they people who worship political power.

The early church understood something important: Their ultimate hope was never that Rome would become Christian. Their hope was that the church would remain faithful.

And historically, Christianity has often been spiritually strongest not when it held cultural power… but when it lived distinctly inside cultures that did not fully share its values.

There’s a book called The Political Illusion built around the idea that modern societies slowly begin believing politics can solve every human problem.

And honestly, you can hear it in the way campaigns are talked about now.

Every election becomes: “Everything depends on this.”
Every candidate becomes: “The answer.”

But the kingdom of God is not going to arrive on Air Force One. Chuck Colson said that.

Human government matters. Christians should care deeply. But no earthly system can ultimately heal the human heart.

And when Christians forget that, we either become fearful when our side loses… or arrogant when our side wins.

Neither reflects the way of Jesus.

So Paul continues by talking about the intended purpose of authority itself.

Verse 3:

For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right and you will be commended. For the one in authority is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for rulers do not bear the sword for no reason. They are God’s servants, agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer. (Romans 13:3-4)

Now again, we have to read this carefully.

Because if you read this in a simplistic way, you immediately start thinking: “Well… that’s obviously not always true.”

Sometimes corrupt people succeed.
Sometimes innocent people suffer.
Sometimes governments reward evil and punish good.

Paul knows that. He’s not naive.

Remember, this is the same Roman Empire that eventually executes both Peter and Paul. So Paul is not giving us a simplistic view of government.

He’s describing the intended role of authority within society.

In other words: Government at its best restrains chaos and promotes the common good.

That’s the idea.

And even though human systems are imperfect, most of us still benefit from that ordering every single day without even thinking about it.

We drove on public roads this morning.
We stopped at intersections.
We used public infrastructure.
We relied on systems of law… and commerce… and emergency response… and water… and electricity… and safety.

Most of life functions because someone somewhere is maintaining order.

And the interesting thing is: we tend to notice authority most when it fails.

No one posts online: “Just wanted to celebrate another emotionally stable stop sign experience today.”

No one gets home and says: “Honey, incredible news… the sewer system continues to function.”

We mostly notice systems when they break.

But Paul’s point is that ordered society itself is a kind of common grace.

It’s not our ultimate hope
It’s not our salvation
It’s not perfection

But it is restraint. Because human beings left entirely to themselves do not naturally drift toward peace.

History makes that painfully clear.

And honestly, so does everyday life.

You don’t have to teach toddlers selfishness.

You don’t sit a two-year-old down and say: “Today we’re covering greed, territorial behavior, and emotional manipulation.”

They arrive strangely aware already.

Which is funny when they’re two… and terrifying when they’re forty-five and running a company.

Paul understands that sin affects every layer of human life.

Individuals
Relationships
Communities
And governments

Which means every human authority structure will always be imperfect.

That’s why Christians should never be shocked when governments disappoint us.

Can we be disappointed? Sure.
Should we be shocked? No.

Because the gospel already told us human beings are fractured by sin.

And this is where followers of Jesus have historically had to hold two truths together at the same time:

One: Authority matters and should be respected.
And two: Authority is never ultimate.

That balance matters.

Because when authority becomes ultimate, people become authoritarian. But when all authority is rejected entirely, societies eventually unravel.

Paul’s vision is different — we honor authority without worshiping it.

Because the church exists to bear witness to the kingdom of God — not to adopt the priorities of whatever political tribe happens to feel closest to us at the moment.

We engage politically without placing our hope there. We work for justice while remembering no earthly kingdom fully becomes the Kingdom of God.

Christians have often gotten into trouble whenever we forget one side of that balance.

Sometimes the church has become so fused to political power that it stopped sounding like Jesus altogether.

Other times Christians have withdrawn from society entirely and abandoned their responsibility to seek the good of their neighbors.

Paul offers another way.

Faithful presence — living as citizens of heaven while still serving faithfully inside earthly societies.

And that’s why Paul says in verse 5:

Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also as a matter of conscience. (Romans 13:5)

Paul is saying: Followers of Jesus don’t just ask: “What can I get away with?”

They ask: “What reflects the character of Jesus?”

Which is a radically different posture.

Because Christian maturity is not merely about avoiding punishment. It’s about becoming the kind of person who increasingly desires what is good… and true… and just… and loving.

And from there, Paul moves into something incredibly practical —

Taxes

Which has a way of making a room tense… even two thousand years later.

Paul wrote:

This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God’s servants, who give their full time to governing. (Romans 13:6)

This may be the least-highlighted verse in anyone’s Bible.

No one has that stitched onto a decorative pillow at home.

“This is also why you pay taxes.” — Romans 13:6

Hobby Lobby doesn’t have that verse on their decorations.

Paul says the authorities are God’s servants. Have you ever thought of the IRS that way?

When you send in your check, you could put a little smiley face on the envelope — “Thank you for your service.”

If you think about it, this is actually the most miraculous verse in the chapter.

Because Christians across every political background suddenly unite around one shared emotional response: “Ugh.”

Nothing brings humanity together quite like taxes.

You can have people disagreeing on literally everything else… then someone says “property tax” and suddenly everyone becomes spiritually united in suffering.

Especially in the Bay Area.

But again, Paul is grounding this in something bigger than mere obligation.

He’s saying: If government serves a societal function, then contributing to that function is part of living responsibly within society.

Now remember who Paul is writing to.

Roman taxes were not light. People often viewed them as oppressive. Some taxes funded things the early Christians probably deeply disagreed with.

And yet Paul still says: Pay what is owed.

Why?

Because followers of Jesus are meant to be people of integrity.

Verse 7:

Give to everyone what you owe them: If you owe taxes, pay taxes; if revenue, then revenue; if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor. (Romans 13:7)

Notice how broad that becomes.

Paul moves beyond taxes into an entire posture toward other people.

Pay what is owed.
Give what is due.
Treat people rightly.

Which means this passage is ultimately about more than government.

It’s about refusing to live as entitled people.

And that’s challenging in our culture because entitlement is almost invisible when it becomes normal.

We live in a world constantly training us to evaluate everything through the lens of:

“What do I deserve?”
“What do I get?”
“How does this serve me?”

And once that mindset takes root deeply enough, eventually every inconvenience feels offensive. Every disagreement feels personal. Every unmet expectation feels unjust.

You can actually feel this happening in everyday life now.

Someone cuts in front of you at Costco and suddenly your entire internal world becomes: “This aggression will not stand.”

And listen… I understand.

The samples section at Costco reveals how quickly human beings abandon social ethics.

People lose themselves in there.

It’s like a sociology experiment with rotisserie chickens.

But underneath the humor, Paul is pushing against something real.

The gospel creates people who no longer move through the world demanding to be treated as the center of everything.

Because once you understand the mercy of God, gratitude slowly begins replacing entitlement.

You stop asking: “How little can I give?”

And start asking:

“How can I live honorably?”
“How can I contribute?”
“How can I serve?”
“How can I reflect Jesus in the way I treat people?”

And honestly, that kind of posture stands out today.

Because outrage is normal now.
Contempt is normal.
Public dishonor is normal.

Winston Churchill and Lady Astor famously hated each other politically.

At one point Lady Astor said to Churchill: “If you were my husband, I’d put poison in your coffee.”

To which Churchill replied: “Madam, if you were my wife, I’d drink it.”

Which is terrible… and unfortunately still more civil than some comment sections in our day.

Assuming the worst about everyone is normal.

But Paul says followers of Jesus should become a different kind of people.

People who show honor.
People who live with integrity.
People who are not constantly consumed by grievance and self-protection.

Have you ever noticed how quickly people begin dehumanizing those they disagree with politically?

It happens almost automatically now.

We stop thinking of people as human beings with stories… and families… and fears… and struggles… and children… and hopes.

They become categories.

Enemies.
Objects of contempt.
Problems to solve instead of people to love.

And once that happens, the contempt starts feeling justified.

But followers of Jesus are called to something radically different.

Paul says: “Honor.”

Even in disagreement.
Even in frustration.
Even when convictions are strong.

And that transition matters because now Paul takes all of this — authority, law, responsibility, ethics — and compresses it into one central command.

Love.

Which means the heartbeat underneath Romans 13 is not political behavior. It’s transformed relationships.

Paul says in verse 8:

Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, (Romans 13:8)

I love that phrase: “The continuing debt to love.”

Because Paul is describing something that is never fully finished.

You never arrive at the point where you can say: “Well… I have now successfully completed love forever.”

Love is ongoing… it’s repeated… it’s daily… it’s costly.

And honestly, most of us prefer love in the abstract.

Love as an idea is beautiful. Love as a person interrupting your schedule is another thing entirely.

Because real love is inconvenient. It takes patience when you’re tired. It’s grace when you’re irritated. It’s forgiveness when you’d rather rehearse your argument in the shower for the next three days.

Ever notice how convincing you are in imaginary arguments?

You’re probably undefeated in the shower. I know I am.

I deliver perfect comebacks… perfect theology… perfect emotional timing… in the shower.

Then the real conversation happens and I suddenly forget every sentence except: “Well… you know what I mean.”

Paul is talking about something deeper than emotional warmth.

Biblically, love is not primarily a feeling. It’s a posture of willing the good of another person.

Which is why Paul says:

Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. (Romans 13:8)

That’s a remarkable statement.

Because Paul has spent much of Romans arguing that we are not justified by law-keeping.

So he’s not suddenly reversing himself here.

He’s saying that genuine love fulfills what the law was always aiming toward in the first place.

The law was never merely about rule management. It was about forming people who reflect the character of God.

And what is God like?

Holy
Just
Merciful
Patient
Compassionate
Self-giving

So Paul continues:

The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery,” “You shall not murder,” “You shall not steal,” “You shall not covet,” and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Romans 13:9)

He took that directly from Jesus.

When Jesus was asked about the greatest commandment, he said: Love God. Love your neighbor. Everything else flows outward from there.

Because love changes…

the way you use power.
the way you speak.
the way you treat people.
the way you handle conflict.
the way you view sexuality… money… justice… forgiveness… generosity.

Love is not the absence of moral seriousness. It’s the deepest fulfillment of it.

Sometimes people hear “love” and assume Paul means vague niceness. But biblical love is far more demanding than niceness.

Niceness avoids discomfort. Love sometimes enters discomfort for the good of another person.

Niceness avoids truth to keep things pleasant. Love tells truth with humility and grace.

Niceness is often about being liked. Love is about seeking another person’s good even when it costs you something.

And honestly, that kind of love is becoming increasingly rare.

Because our culture is very good at performance… very good at image… very good at public outrage… but a whole lot weaker at sustained sacrificial love.

We’re connected to more people digitally than ever before… and yet many people are profoundly lonely.

We know how to broadcast opinions. We’re less certain how to bear one another’s burdens.

Philip Yancey once wrote that political movements often risk “pulling onto themselves the mantle of power that smothers love.”

That’s a danger for all of us.

Because once outrage becomes more emotionally satisfying than love… we’re no longer reflecting Jesus clearly, no matter how correct our opinions may be.

Which is why Paul concludes in verse 10:

Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law. (Romans 13:10)

Think about how radical that would have been in Rome.

Rome was built on status, dominance, hierarchy, power, conquest.

And into that world comes this tiny movement of Christians saying: The highest virtue is…

Not domination. It’s love.
Not self-exaltation. it’s love.
Not winning at all costs. It’s love.

That still feels radically countercultural today.

Because we live in a world constantly discipling people into self-protection… and self-promotion… and self-expression… and self-interest.

And Paul keeps saying: The gospel forms an entirely different kind of human being.

One whose life increasingly moves outward in love.

And then… almost suddenly… Paul shifts from love to urgency.

From relationships… to time itself.

This final section becomes one of the most beautiful and compelling movements in the entire chapter.

Paul says in verse 11:

And do this, understanding the present time: The hour has already come for you to wake up from your slumber… (Romans 13:11)

I love that imagery.

Wake up.

Because Paul understands something about human nature: it’s possible to drift spiritually without even realizing it.

Not through one dramatic decision.
Not through sudden rebellion.

Usually through gradual dullness.

Distraction
Comfort
Numbness
Routine

Little by little, we stop paying attention to the condition of our souls.

And honestly, modern life makes spiritual sleep incredibly easy.

We are endlessly distracted…

by notifications
by streaming
by news cycles
by podcasts
by emails
by social media
by constant noise

Most people now move through life with almost no silence whatsoever.

We even multitask our distraction now. We listen to podcasts… while scrolling social media… while answering emails… while half-watching Netflix.

The moment there’s quiet, we immediately fill it.

Which means many people are physically awake all day… but spiritually half-asleep.

And Paul says: Wake up.

Become aware again.
Pay attention again.
Remember who you are again.

…because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. (Romans 13:11)

Paul is talking about the coming fulfillment of God’s kingdom. The day when Jesus returns and all things are made new.

And notice: Paul speaks with urgency, but not panic.

Christians are not meant to live in fear about the future.

But we are meant to live…

awake
and intentional
and clear-minded
and present

Because time matters.

Life is moving. Formation is happening. Every day is shaping us into someone.

Which means the question is never: “Am I being formed?”

The question is: “By what?”

Paul continues:

The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. (Romans 13:12)

That’s such a hopeful image.

The world is still dark in many ways. Sin is still real. Suffering is still real. Evil is still real.

But darkness is not the final story.

Morning is coming.

And Christians are people who live now in light of what is coming.

We belong to the dawn before the rest of the world fully sees it yet.

It’s almost like Paul is saying: Don’t live like people trapped in the night when you already know the sunrise is coming.

And honestly, some of us desperately need that reminder.

Because it’s easy to become cynical right now.

You look at the world and think:

Everything is angry.
Everything is fractured.
Everything is performative.
Everything feels exhausted.

And if you stare at darkness long enough, eventually you start believing darkness is all there is.

But Christians are resurrection people.

We believe light still breaks through.

Grace still transforms people.
Forgiveness still heals.
Mercy still changes lives.
Jesus is still building His church.

Which means despair is never the final posture of the follower of Jesus.

Then Paul says:

So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. (Romans 13:12)

That phrase is fascinating: “Armor of light.”

Because light is not passive.

It protects.
And it strengthens.
And it defends.

Paul is saying:

Live visibly.
Live honestly.
Live differently.

Not hidden.
Not double-minded.
Not fragmented.

And then he becomes incredibly practical:

Let us behave decently, as in the daytime, not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and debauchery, not in dissension and jealousy. (Romans 13:13)

Notice the range of things Paul includes.

Some are obvious external behaviors.

But then suddenly: dissension. Jealousy.

In other words, Paul is not just concerned with public morality. He’s concerned with the inner condition of the heart.

Because you can avoid scandalous behavior and still be consumed by envy, bitterness, comparison, outrage, pride, or division.

And honestly, dissension and jealousy may be two of the most socially acceptable sins in modern culture.

Especially online.

Entire platforms now monetize outrage and comparison.

Social media has basically become: “Here’s why your life isn’t enough compared to theirs.”

And after twenty minutes of scrolling, somehow everyone else appears happier, richer, fitter, more successful, and inexplicably always vacationing somewhere.

Meanwhile you’re standing in your kitchen eating shredded cheese directly out of the bag wondering where things went wrong.

Paul says: That way of living belongs to the night. You belong to the light now.

And then he reaches the climax of the chapter.

Verse 14:

Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ… (Romans 13:14)

That’s the goal.

Not merely behavior modification
Not image management
Not religious performance

Christlikeness.

To “put on” Jesus means his character increasingly shapes ours.

His humility
His mercy
His truthfulness
His compassion
His love

More and more, the life of Jesus becomes visible in us.

That’s the vision that ties this entire chapter together.

How do Christians live in a complicated world? How do we navigate authority, culture, conflict, morality, relationships, and uncertainty?

Paul’s answer is not: “Win every argument.”

His answer is: Put on Jesus.

Become the kind of person who reflects Jesus in every part of life.

And church… in a world shaped by outrage… fear… self-promotion… and exhaustion…
people who look like Jesus shine brightly.

Alright, when we step back and look at Romans 13 as a whole, what’s striking is that Paul never separates spiritual formation from ordinary life.

For Paul, following Jesus is not merely about what happens in a worship service.

It’s about:

How you treat people
How you handle power
How you speak
How you love
How you live inside society
How you carry yourself in a dark and anxious world

In other words: The gospel is not just preparing us for heaven someday. It is forming us into the kind of people who reflect Jesus now.

And that matters more than ever.

Because we’re living in a time when people are exhausted.

Exhausted by outrage.
Exhausted by division.
Exhausted by anxiety.
Exhausted by performative identity.
Exhausted by anger masquerading as wisdom.

Everybody’s yelling.
Everybody’s certain.

And into that kind of world, the apostle Paul says: What if the church became different? What if followers of Jesus became known…

Not primarily for outrage… but for integrity?
Not for contempt… but for honor?
Not for panic… but for peace?
Not for self-righteousness… but for love?
Not for blending completely into the darkness… but for carrying the light of Christ into it?

Because church, the world does not need more noise. It needs people who actually look like Jesus.

People who can disagree without hatred.
People who can hold conviction without cruelty.
People who can engage culture without losing their soul.
People who live awake.
People who love deeply.
People who carry hope.
People whose lives point beyond themselves to another kingdom.

And that’s really Paul’s vision here.

Not isolated holiness. Not political domination. Not cultural withdrawal.

Faithful presence.

People clothed with Christ in every part of life.

And maybe that’s the question Romans 13 leaves us with today:

When people encounter us… what kind of kingdom do they experience?

Fear or peace?
Contempt or love?
Darkness or light?
Self-interest or sacrificial care?

Because every day, whether we realize it or not, we are revealing something about the kingdom we belong to.

And Paul says: The night is nearly over. The day is almost here.

So wake up. Put on Christ. Live as people of the light.

Would you pray with me as the worship team comes to lead us in a closing song.

Jesus, teach us how to live faithfully in this world without losing our hearts.

Form us into people of integrity… people of humility… people of courage… people of love.

Where we’ve become cynical, would you correct us?
Where we’ve become angry, would you soften us?
Where we’ve become distracted or spiritually numb, would you wake us up?

Teach us to carry your light into the places we live… and work… and speak… and relate.

And may people encounter something of your character through our lives.

We pray this in Jesus’ name, Amen.

Alright, now we’re going to celebrate communion, which is a reminder that before we were ever right about anything… we were loved.

Before we cleaned ourselves up… before we won arguments… before we figured life out… Jesus gave himself for us.

Communion reminds us that our deepest identity is not found in what side we’re on…
but in whose table we’ve been invited to.

And that changes the way we live in the world.

Because people who know they’ve received mercy become more capable of extending mercy.

People who know they’ve been forgiven become more capable of grace.

People who remain close to Jesus begin to look more like Jesus.

So as we receive communion, I want us to simply pause and remember who ultimately holds our allegiance.

Not a party.
Not a movement.
Not a nation.

Jesus. The true King.

The one whose kingdom does not rise and fall with elections.
The one whose love does not fluctuate with public opinion.
The one who entered the darkness and brought light.

In a moment, the worship team is going to lead us.

When they do, I invite you to exit your row to your left and come forward.

Take the bread — which represents Jesus’ body, broken for you for the forgiveness of your sins — and eat it here at the front.

Then take the cup — which represents his blood, shed so you could have life in all its fullness — and drink it here.

You can then toss the cup in the waste basket next to those serving communion, and return to your seat on the other side of your row.

Come forward when you’re ready.