We routinely entrust important work to experts. We hire accountants to handle our taxes, mechanics to repair our cars, and doctors to interpret medical tests. That is usually wise. But it can also lead us to approach God's Word the same way: "The Bible is complicated. That is what pastors are for." The pastor studies it, explains it, and talks about it while everyone else listens for an hour and then returns to ordinary life.

The Reformation challenged that assumption. Luther did not believe pastors and teachers were unnecessary; he believed God's Word was too important to be confined to them. The Reformation was not about replacing the authority of the pope with the authority of each individual Christian. It was about placing pastors and people together under the authority of Christ's Word.

In 2 Kings 23, the Book of the Law had been sitting inside the temple. God's people possessed the Word, but they were no longer being shaped by it. It is possible to possess God's Word without permitting God's Word to possess us. When the Book is opened, Josiah listens, repents, gathers the people, removes their idols, and reforms the nation's practices.

Yet Josiah's reformation remains incomplete. He can remove idols from the land, but he cannot remove sin from the human heart. He can renew the covenant, but he cannot fulfill it. Scripture ultimately leads us beyond Josiah to Jesus—the King who fulfills the Word, bears our judgment, rises from death, and announces forgiveness to sinners. Because his Word still speaks and his promises still hold, here we still stand.

The joy of stewardship is not found merely in giving something away. It is found in seeing God take what we release and use it to accomplish far more than we could accomplish on our own. Paul describes generosity producing a harvest of righteousness: needs are met, lives are changed, thanksgiving overflows, and God is praised. In Jesus' parable, the faithful servants do not simply return what was entrusted to them; they are invited to share their master's happiness.

On Commitment Sunday, we celebrate more than the commitments we make. We rejoice in the privilege of participating in God's work. Our individual gifts may seem limited, but once placed into God's hands, they become part of something much greater—connecting people to Christ, growing disciples in faith, serving neighbors in love, and extending God's kingdom to generations we may never meet.

Christian giving is not a payment we make to God or a way of purchasing His favor. It is our grateful response to the Savior who has already given everything for us. Generosity is not something God extracts from us; it is something His grace produces within us.

When we think about stewardship, we usually begin with what we are expected to give. David begins somewhere else: "Everything comes from You." Although God did not permit David to build the temple, David refused to let what he could not do keep him from doing what he could. He received his abilities, opportunities, and resources as gifts from God's hand, used them faithfully, and entrusted the outcome to God.

We often fixate on what we lack or complain about what our limitations keep us from accomplishing. But stewardship brings both responsibility and freedom. We are responsible for caring faithfully for whatever God has placed in our hands; we are free to leave everything else in His. We cannot even free ourselves from the grip of what we possess—but what is impossible for us is possible with God.

We are obssessed with productivity. Whole consulting firms are built around productivity hacks. But what if productivity isn't always all it's cracked up to be?

In Luke 10, Martha is busy serving, working, preparing, and doing. None of that is bad. The problem is not that Martha works. The problem is that her work has made her worried, distracted, and resentful.

Mary sits at Jesus' feet, receiving before doing. Jesus says Mary has chosen what is better. This is not a rejection of productivity. It is a reordering of the soul. Before we are workers in Christ's kingdom, we are receivers of Christ's grace.

Jesus knows that desire is powerful. It can draw us toward love, faithfulness, and devotion—but when shaped by sin, it can become selfish and destructive.

In this message from our Keeping Score series, we hear Jesus call us away from lust and toward covenant love—a love that honors, cherishes, protects, and serves. Jesus comes not simply to restrict our desires, but to redeem them.

If you're struggling with lust and would like counseling or support, you can reach out to one of our pastors or one of the counselors below:

• Lori Payne: (512) 771-9766
• Jennifer Hicks: (512) 265-6411
• Jessica & Ryan McDaniel: info@mcdanielcounseling.com

When Jesus arrives in Bethany after Lazarus has died, Martha says to Him: "Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died." It is a sentence full of faith, grief, disappointment, and confusion.

This is where many of us live. We keep score of the prayers that seemed unanswered. We keep score of the losses God allowed. We keep score of the moments when heaven felt silent. Over time, grief can quietly become grievance.

But Jesus does not shame Martha for her sorrow. He meets her in it. His delay was not absence, and His silence was not indifference.

Jesus tells His followers not to worry about life, food, drink, clothing, or tomorrow. He points to birds and flowers as living sermons on the Father's care.

Worry imagines a future where God is absent, provision runs out, and we are left to carry life by ourselves. It keeps score of possibilities, threats, bills, diagnoses, conflicts, and unknowns. Worry does math without mercy.