 At our church, we’re committed to facing the real questions people are asking—not avoiding them. In our new series, Hot Topics, we’re diving into the conversations that matter most, even when they’re difficult or controversial. The first question we tackled is one that’s often loaded with tension: Can we believe in both God and science? For many, this isn’t just a theoretical debate—it’s deeply personal. It’s a question that’s challenged faith, fractured relationships, and, in some cases, caused people to walk away from church altogether. But rather than dodging it, we believe Scripture invites us into it.
Historically, there’s been friction between faith communities and the scientific world. The stories of Copernicus and Galileo remind us how the church once resisted scientific discoveries out of fear. But that fear was misplaced. Science, when pursued with honesty and humility, doesn’t threaten our faith—it deepens it. Psalm 19 paints a picture of the natural world declaring the glory of God. The heavens don’t compete with Scripture—they echo it. They speak, not with words, but with wonder. And when we listen closely, we hear the voice of the Creator in both. Romans 1 reminds us that the real issue isn’t science versus God—it’s humanity’s tendency to suppress the truth. Whether it’s spiritual or scientific, we often bury inconvenient truths because we’re afraid of what they’ll demand from us. But Paul is clear: God has made Himself known through creation. The complexity of the universe, the design of life, and the beauty of natural order are not random accidents—they are reflections of divine intelligence and eternal power. The question is not whether God is speaking, but whether we are willing to listen. We believe you can trust science and believe in God—but only if you're willing to pursue truth over comfort. We’re tempted to swing to extremes. Some elevate science to the level of a savior, believing it can answer every question and fix every problem. Others cling to a version of faith that sees all doubt and curiosity as threats. But both of those paths miss the heart of what God invites us into. Real transformation doesn’t come from defending our egos or fortifying our assumptions. It comes from humility, curiosity, and a willingness to be shaped by truth—even when it stretches us. Science is a tool, not a god. It can explain many things, but it can’t define our purpose, assign our value, or heal our souls. It can’t tell us why love matters, or what beauty means. That’s where faith steps in. At the same time, faith is not anti-science. Our God created our minds to wonder, question, and explore. He is not intimidated by a microscope or a telescope. He welcomes our questions. When we pursue both Scripture and science with integrity, we discover they are not at war—they are in harmony. What we believe shapes how we live. If we trade the truth of God for a lie—if we settle for certainty, comfort, or control instead of truth—we risk shrinking our faith into something manageable but lifeless. God never called us to a faith that fits neatly into categories. He calls us to trust Him in the midst of mystery. Faith was never about having all the answers—it’s about knowing the One who does. And in the same way, science at its best isn’t about eliminating wonder—it’s about expanding it. As a church, our invitation is simple: stay curious. Stay humble. Keep asking good questions. Whether you’re more drawn to scientific discovery or grounded in biblical tradition, the goal isn’t to win arguments—it’s to know God more deeply. Jesus is the embodiment of truth. He doesn’t just give us information; He gives us Himself. So let’s keep seeking, keep learning, and keep trusting. Because when we do, we don’t just grow smarter—we grow closer to the One who made us. - Adapted from the sermon preached at our Walloon campus on 6/22/25.
0 Comments
At our church this Father’s Day, we pause to honor the dads—not just with a “thank you,” but with a renewed reminder of their divine purpose. In a culture that often sidelines or satirizes fatherhood, we stood together to declare that fathers matter. More than ever, the presence and leadership of a good father is one of the greatest gifts a family, a child, and a community can receive. As we explored both statistics and Scripture, it became undeniably clear: a good father truly makes a great future.
The sobering truth is that fatherlessness has reached epidemic levels in our society. Nearly 1 in 4 children in the U.S. live without a biological, step, or adoptive father in their home. The ripple effects of this are staggering—higher rates of poverty, school dropouts, incarceration, mental health issues, and more. But the inverse is just as powerful: when a father is actively involved, children flourish academically, emotionally, and spiritually. Dads, your presence is powerful. Your influence is irreplaceable. But beyond celebrating earthly fathers, we turned our hearts toward the perfect Father—God Himself. In Romans 8:14-17, we’re reminded that we are not orphans. Through Christ, we’ve been adopted as God’s own children, and by His Spirit, we cry out, “Abba, Father.” No matter our earthly experiences—whether marked by joy, pain, or absence—we are invited into a deeply personal and life-changing relationship with a Father who never leaves, never wounds, and never gives up. This perfect Father demonstrates what true fathering looks like. He affirms our worth, not in vague sentiment but with words of love and identity: “You are my beloved child.” He challenges us to grow, not to harm us but to stretch us beyond our comfort zones and into Christlike maturity. He teaches us through His Word and Spirit, lovingly disciplines us when needed, and speaks wisdom into our lives. He heals our wounds—emotional, spiritual, and physical—because His love always moves toward restoration. God also desires relationship and intimacy with us. He is not a distant authority figure but a close, compassionate Father who wants our hearts. Through every season of joy and sorrow, success and failure, He is present. He awakens passions within us, draws us closer to Himself, and transforms us into people who love deeply and live purposefully. And then, like any good father, He entrusts us with real responsibility—inviting us to carry His name and His mission into the world with courage and faith. For every dad, this vision of God’s fathering provides a model to follow. We can echo His ways by affirming our children, guiding them with wisdom, allowing them to face challenges, walking with them through their pain, building strong relationships, and entrusting them with meaningful responsibility. No father is perfect, but every father can be faithful—and that faithfulness can shape generations to come. We also know this: for those who grew up without a father, or who face the challenges of parenting alone, especially single moms—God sees you. He is not only your Father, but He longs to father your children too. His grace is sufficient, His presence is near, and His love is strong enough to fill every gap. Ultimately, our hope lies in this truth: a good Father makes a great future. And our Heavenly Father is already building it. He is calling each of us—fathers, mothers, sons, daughters—into a deeper relationship with Him. Let’s lean in, listen for His voice, and follow His lead. Because the future isn’t something we stumble into. With God, it’s something we are lovingly fathered into. - Adapted from the sermon preached at our Walloon Lake campus on 6/15/25. At Walloon Lake Community Church, we just wrapped up our four-week series titled Taste and See, a journey through Scripture that reminded us how Jesus alone satisfies the deepest longings of our souls. We began with the Samaritan woman at the well, then moved through stories of crowds hungry for more bread, and finally landed at Jesus’ bold proclamation during the Feast of Tabernacles: “Anyone who is thirsty may come to Me and drink” (John 7:37). This final message brought us full circle, back to the image of living water—Jesus Himself—as the only true source of lasting refreshment for our weary hearts.
The sermon walked us through the cultural and spiritual backdrop of Jesus’ words. During the Feast of Tabernacles, the high priest would draw water and pour it out at the altar as a symbol of God’s provision in the wilderness. It was at this powerful moment, with crowds watching and songs rising, that Jesus stood and cried out His invitation. He wasn’t just making a poetic metaphor—He was declaring that He is the rock, the one from whom living water flows, just as God had once provided for Israel in the desert. This bold claim was more than a theological statement. It was a personal, spiritual call for every soul in the crowd—and for us today. We live in a hot, dry, and spiritually parched world. Many of us are dehydrated—not physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Jesus invites us to come and drink, not just once, but daily. He offers His Spirit, flowing like a river, to anyone who believes. Too often, we ignore our empty spiritual tanks until frustration, anxiety, or impatience exposes how dry we’ve become. We brush off our behavior, blaming our personality, our upbringing, or our culture. But Jesus doesn’t call us to excuse our dryness—He calls us to refill. The Spirit He offers softens the hardened places, flushes out what’s toxic, and fills us with the fruit of His presence: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, and more. The imagery was clear: we are meant to be “mobile splashing units,” carrying the refreshment of Jesus to everyone around us. But we cannot splash what we have not received. When our tanks are low, what spills out is irritation, pride, or bitterness—not the presence of Christ. That’s why it is so essential to monitor our spiritual fuel gauge and make it a priority to be filled up by Jesus, especially on hard days. This isn't about striving or performance; it's about surrender and dependence. Just as water instinctively knows where to go in our bodies, the Spirit knows where to go in our souls. We don’t have to micromanage the process—we just need to drink deeply and consistently. Jesus doesn’t need our direction; He only asks for our permission to come in and fill us. There’s a world all around us—our neighborhoods, schools, and workplaces—filled with people who are spiritually thirsty. They don’t need to see more religion or polished behavior. They need to see Jesus, alive and flowing through His people. If the only thing they see in us is what they already know—anxiety, impatience, bitterness—they’ll never be drawn to the living water we claim to know. But when we are truly filled, the Spirit will overflow into every interaction, and people will encounter the hope and joy of Christ in real, tangible ways. Jesus’ invitation still stands: “Come to Me and drink.” Let’s be a church that drinks deeply and daily, allowing the living water of Christ to refresh us and then flow through us to a world in desperate need of Him. - Adapted from sermons preached across our 3 campuses on 6/8/25. |
Welcome to the pastors' blog!
These posts are adapted from our pastors' weekly sermons.
Previous posts
July 2025
|
RSS Feed