Search
Recent Posts
July 15, 2026 • 1 Minute Read
Looking Ahead: Acts 8:1-25
Stephen is dead. The church is under attack. Saul is dragging believers out of their homes. If you were there, wouldn't you keep your head down? They didn't. Acts 8:4 says the believers who were scattered "went about preaching the word" — not in spite of the danger, but seemingly without a second thought. What made ordinary people, staring at real risk, choose to speak instead of hide? They didn't see themselves as refugees running from Jerusalem — they saw themselves as ambassadors of a King who sent them wherever they landed. Paul puts words to this later: "We are therefore Christ's ambassadors... God making his appeal through us" (2 Cor. 5:18-20). An ambassador doesn't stop representing the King just because the assignment changed locations. That's the question worth sitting with this week: when your circumstances get disrupted, does your identity move with you — or does it stay behind? This Sunday we're in Acts 8:1-25. Looking forward to gathering with you!!
July 8, 2026 • 2 Minute Read
This Weekend at ALG
This weekend we're walking through a passage I've personally found difficult. It's the bold faith and proclamation of the Gospel — but not from an Apostle. It's from Stephen, a man simply "full of grace and power" who ends up on trial for his life. Stephen is falsely accused. People who don't like what he's saying can't out-argue him, so they do what people often do when they lose an argument with the truth — they lie about him before the High Priest. So let me ask you: when someone lies about you with malicious intent, how do you respond? Does your face show joy, peace, contentment — does it "shine like an angel"? Or does it show frustration, bewilderment, anger? That's not a rhetorical question. It's the question this passage forces on us. Most of us won't stand trial for our faith. But all of us have faced the smaller version of Stephen's moment — the mischaracterization, the whisper campaign, the accusation that isn't true but sticks anyway. What comes out of us in that moment says something about what's been put into us long before it. This Sunday we'll watch how Stephen handled that moment — in the synagogue, and in front of the High Priest. What allowed him to show Christ-like character in the middle of his own destruction? Before Sunday, I'd encourage you to read ahead — Acts 6:8 , Acts 7:1-60 and Acts 8:1-3. Don't stop where our text ends. Stephen's story doesn't resolve neatly in a single sermon-sized passage, and reading the fuller arc will change how you hear it Sunday.
July 7, 2026 • 2 Minute Read
Growing Pains: Acts 6:1-7
Growing Pains The Jerusalem church was exploding. In a year or two, it went from about 120 believers to an estimated 20,000. That kind of growth doesn't happen without cracks showing up. Here's the crack we see in Acts 6: Hellenistic Jewish widows were being overlooked in the daily food distribution. Native Hebrew-speaking widows were cared for. The others were not. That's a real problem and no one pretends otherwise. But look at how it surfaced. Not as a direct complaint to the people who could fix it. It surfaced as murmuring — grumbling to neighbors instead of an honest word to the apostles. Scripture treats that murmuring as sin. Not because the concern was invalid. Because of how it was handled. Left to fester, grumbling breeds division. It gives Satan a foothold. The Apostles' Response The apostles didn't get defensive. They didn't dismiss the complaint. They took responsibility and addressed it head-on. They had the congregation select seven men — men of good reputation, full of the Spirit and wisdom — to oversee the distribution. Here's something that stands out: all seven chosen came from the minority group. The very group that had been overlooked. Not because of a quota, rather because the apostles prayed and acted in good faith. The result? The Word of God kept spreading. The number of disciples increased. A problem that could have split the church became the occasion for the church to grow even faster. The Real Issue Isn't Growth. It's Grumbling. Growth exposes what's already there. Every family, team, or church that grows fast will hit friction. That's not the danger. The danger is what people do with the friction. Do they go around each other, or do they go to each other? It's easier to vent to a friend than to talk to the person involved. Easier to carry a complaint than to raise it. But easier isn't better. What starts as a quiet grumble to one person becomes two people, then five, then a fracture nobody intended.
June 23, 2026 • 5 Minute Read
What Actually Makes a Community Holy
What Actually Makes a Community Holy Ask people to describe the perfect community and you'll hear the same words: unity, humility, integrity. We can picture it easily — a group that's honest, where nobody is climbing over anybody else, where everyone pulls in the same direction. The strange thing is how rarely we find it. Most of us can name a team or a church that almost had it, and just as quickly name what pulled it apart. In Acts 4:32–5:16, Luke does something braver than describe an ideal. He shows us a real community — one that genuinely had it, and one that nearly lost it from the inside. In the contrast between two stories, he tells us what holiness actually costs. One Heart and One Soul Luke's portrait is almost startling in its plainness. The early church was "of one heart and soul." They held everything in common. There was no needy person among them, because people sold land and houses so anyone in need was cared for. The engine underneath it was a conviction, not a policy: they believed their lives — and everything they owned — already belonged to God. Once you actually believe that, generosity stops being a sacrifice you grit your teeth through and becomes the natural posture of someone who was only ever holding things on loan. As Paul says in Colossians 1:16, all things were created through Christ and for Christ. If it's all His to begin with, open hands make sense. Barnabas embodies this. He sells a field and quietly brings the money to meet others' needs. No speech, no spotlight — just a man who has stopped clutching what was never ultimately his. The Appearance of Holiness Then comes the story we'd rather skip. Ananias and Sapphira also sell property, but they secretly keep back part of the price while presenting the gift as if it were the whole thing. Peter cuts to the real issue: the land was theirs to do with as they pleased. The sin wasn't keeping some money — it was the lie, the performance of a generosity they hadn't actually committed to. They wanted the appearance of holiness without the heart of it. Both fall dead, and a holy fear settles over the church. It's a hard passage, and the severity is the point. This wasn't a bookkeeping error; it was a community's first encounter with a particular rot — the impulse to look more surrendered than you are. Scripture takes that seriously precisely because it's so quiet and respectable. Achan's secret theft in Joshua 7 brings defeat on a whole nation. Even Moses, in Numbers 20, faces real consequences for failing to treat God as holy before the people. The pattern holds: secret sins fester. We tell ourselves no one is getting hurt, but a body can't carry an infection in one part and stay healthy everywhere else. Why Unity Is the Whole Point Why set these two stories side by side? The answer reaches back to something Jesus prayed the night before He died. In John 17, He asks that His followers would be one — so that the world will know the Father sent Him. Unity isn't a bonus on top of the church's mission; it's a large part of the witness itself. That reframes the threat. We assume the danger comes from outside — hostility, pressure, opposition. But Acts suggests the more lethal threat is internal: deception and self-interest quietly dissolving the one thing that makes the witness believable. Opposition tends to strengthen a unified community. Hidden self-interest eats it from within. The Mind of Christ Philippians 2 gives the alternative: the mind of Christ counts others as more important than yourself — not in theory, but with your actual time, energy, and resources. Jesus, who had every right to grasp, emptied Himself instead. The early church's open-handedness was that same mind working its way out into property deeds and shared meals. That's the call, and it's worth sitting with honestly: Full surrender to Christ — holding nothing back, not even the parts we'd rather keep quietly in reserve. Valuing others above ourselves — enough to actually spend something on them. One purpose — proclaiming Jesus, and refusing to fracture over non-essentials that were never worth dividing over. So a few honest questions to take home: Am I living as if I'm most important, or as if God is? Am I more focused on appearing holy than on actually being His? And who is one person I can encourage or serve this week? A holy community isn't built in grand gestures — it's built by one person choosing, this week, to hold something with open hands for someone else. It comes back to hope, healing, and purpose, and to the confession underneath it all: it's all about Him, all from Him, and all for Him.
June 8, 2026 • 5 Minute Read
Your Circle Matters
Have you ever noticed how quickly you pick up the habits, phrases, or even the subtle attitude of the people you spend the most time with? You spend a weekend with a friend from New York or the West Coast, and suddenly you’re walking at double-speed and calling everything "so aesthetic." You hang around a coworker who constantly complains, and before you know it, you’re finding the cloud in every silver lining. There’s actually a scientific name for this: behavioral contagion. It’s the subconscious reality that we quietly copy the habits, speech patterns, and mindsets of our social circle. The late rapper Nipsey Hussle famously put it this way: "If you look at the people in your circle and you don't get inspired, you don't have a circle. You have a cage." We are the sum average of the people we keep closest. And thousands of years before sociology gave this a name, a group of powerful religious leaders in Jerusalem got a front-row seat to this exact phenomenon. The Country Bumpkins and the Council In the book of Acts, chapters 3 and 4, Peter and John walk into the temple around 3:00 in the afternoon. They encounter a man who had been unable to walk for over 40 years, begging at the gate. Peter looks at him and says, "I don't have silver or gold, but what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk." Instantly, the man’s feet and ankles are strengthened. He doesn't just hobble up; he starts leaping, dancing, and praising God. A massive crowd gathers, totally amazed, and Peter boldly uses the moment to preach the gospel. Naturally, this ruffles the feathers of the religious elite (the Sadducees), who arrest them. The next morning, Peter and John are brought before the high council to explain themselves. And that brings us to Acts 4:13, a verse that changes everything: "The members of the council were amazed when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, for they could see that they were ordinary men with no special training in the scriptures. They also recognized them as men who had been with Jesus." The council looked at these two men and essentially saw "country bumpkins" or "rednecks"—uneducated fishermen with thick Galilean accents. They weren't theologians. They didn't have fancy degrees. Yet, they spoke with an undeniable authority and courage. The council couldn't deny the miracle because the 40-year-old healed man was standing right there beside them. So, they landed on the only logical explanation: These men had been with Jesus. They had caught His "contagion." They talked like Him, acted like Him, and carried His power. 3 Core Habits that Shape Who You Become John Dryden once wrote, "We first make our habits, and then our habits make us." Peter wasn't born bold—in fact, he famously denied Jesus three times out of fear. But his habits, transformed by the Holy Spirit and time spent with Christ, completely remade him. If we want people to look at our lives and recognize that we’ve "been with Jesus," we have to intentionally cultivate the same three habits Peter modeled: 1. Curating Your Circle Peter and John chose to stay close to Jesus and His followers, even when Jesus’ teachings got incredibly difficult and others walked away. As Proverbs 13:20 warns: "Walk with the wise and become wise. Associate with fools and get in trouble." You have a choice in who you break bread with. Are the people closest to you inspiring you to grow, or are they keeping you locked in a cage? 2. Trusting God Over Your Own Logic When God tells you to do something that defies human reasoning—like telling Israel to march around the massive walls of Jericho to bring them down—you face a choice. Will you lean on your own understanding, or will you build the habit of trusting God's Word even when it feels risky? Peter learned to trust the authority of Jesus’ name above his own limitations. 3. Repenting Instead of Making Excuses The godly aren't people who never fail; Proverbs 24:16 says the godly may trip seven times, but they get back up. When we mess up, our human instinct is to pass the buck, just like Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the serpent in the Garden. Peter made massive mistakes, but he owned them, repented, and got back up. True repentance is a total change of mind and heart—it’s turning around and doing things differently. Time for a Reality Check If the people around you—your family, coworkers, or neighbors—had to guess who you’ve been hanging out with based on your attitudes, speech, and habits, what would they conclude? Would they see the patience, boldness, and love of Jesus? Or would they see the cynicism, gossip, and excuse-making of the world? To break out of the cages holding us back, we need to take action: Prioritize the Presence: Don't just give Jesus your leftovers at the end of a long day. Set a specific, daily time to be with Him. Own Your Stuff: Stop making excuses for the bad habits you've tolerated. Don't just try to "quit" them—genuinely repent of them and turn the other way. Check Your Five: Take a hard look at the five people you spend the most time with. If they aren't pushing you closer to Christ, it might be time to intentionally seek out a wiser circle. You don't need a special title or an advanced degree to change the world around you. You just need to spend time with the One who changes you. Next Step: Who is one person in your life whose faith and habits you admire? Reach out to them this week and invite them to grab a coffee or break bread together.
June 4, 2026 • 3 Minute Read
The Gift of Divine Disruption
When God Ruins Your Perfect Nap: The Gift of Divine Disruption Imagine a flawless Sunday: a productive week behind you, no line at your favorite restaurant, and the bedroom temperature set to a crisp, perfect chill. You drift into a well-deserved nap, only for a metaphorical bull in a china shop to come roaring through the house. You aren't just awake; you are deeply disturbed. We all hate having our comfort interrupted. But what happens when the entity disrupting our lives isn't an annoying coincidence, but God Himself? This week, we explored Acts 4:1-1 (with a side trip into Jonah) to examine what happens when God intentionally wrecks our comfort zones for a grander purpose. The "Sadducee" in All of Us In Acts 3, Peter and John heal a man who had been lame for over forty years. Instead of celebrating, the religious elite—the Sadducees—become deeply "disturbed" and arrest the apostles. This miracle and the message of Jesus' resurrection threatened their authority, theology, and status quo. It’s easy to judge the Sadducees, but we often react the exact same way. We get fiercely protective over our own routines and expectations, growing irritated the moment life stops going according to our layout. A Servant, Not a God When life gets disrupted, our posture exposes what we truly believe about God. Take the prophet Jonah: he was so furious that God showed mercy to his enemies that he threw a pity party, telling God he was angry enough to die. He wanted his own desires fulfilled, not God's global mission. When we complain that our obedience should guarantee a smooth ride, we fall into the same trap. The Hard Truth: We often don't want a God; we want a servant. We want a cosmic assistant who owes us ease in exchange for good behavior. But comfort isn't the reward for obedience, and hardship isn't always a punishment. Peter and John were entirely obedient, yet they still landed in a jail cell. The Purpose of the Pressure In our culture, comfort is king. But absolute comfort can be a trap that causes us to pause, grow stagnant, and stop pursuing God. God cares too much about your character to leave you there. He will intentionally turn up the heat or permit unmet expectations to loosen our white-knuckled grip on our mini-kingdoms, forcing us to surrender to His better plan. The lame man wasn’t healed because he earned it; he was healed to display Jesus’ authority. Sometimes, God allows our hardships for the exact same reason: so He may be glorified. Shifting to Surrender Jesus is the cornerstone. A cornerstone dictates the entire alignment of a building, yet we constantly try to build our lives around our own blueprints. True peace cannot be engineered through control or moral checklist behavior; it is found only in resting under His name. The next time a disruption threatens your peace, don't immediately vent to others. Take it straight to God—even if you have to complain to Him first. Ask Him what is true, not just what you want to be true. You might just find the disruption is an invitation to trade temporary comfort for a peace that passes all understanding. Digging Deeper This Week Reflect: Where are you catching yourself expecting God to owe you comfort in exchange for your obedience? Step: Write down one short prayer of surrender today, and revisit it at the end of the week. Read: Read through Acts 3-4, Jonah 1-4, John 9, and Philippians 4 to reset your focus on the Cornerstone. Watch full message here: