This Sunday we're in 1 Samuel 20, and it's the chapter where David's old life ends. Two men swear a covenant out in a field, in a hurry, while a king back at the palace sharpens a spear for one of them. Read the chapter before you come, sit with the questions below, and come ready to hear what holds God's people to His Anointed when everything else is being torn away.
Critically Think

1. Read 20:1-3. David fires off three questions without stopping for breath. What is he looking for, and what does Jonathan's reply in verse 2 tell you about what Jonathan still believes about his father?
2. In 20:5-11 the two of them set up a test around the new moon feast. What exactly are they trying to find out about Saul, and why would an empty seat at the table make a good test?
3. Look closely at verse 8. On what basis does David ask for Jonathan's help? Notice that he doesn't appeal to their friendship or to how they feel about each other. What does he appeal to instead, and why would that matter more in a moment like this?
4. Read 20:12-17 slowly and count how many times Jonathan lands his words on the LORD. What does Jonathan admit out loud in verse 15 about who is going to win, and what does he ask for in return? Remember who Jonathan is in line to become.
5. Read 20:24-34. Saul won't say David's name, calling him "the son of Jesse" in verses 27, 30, and 31. What does verse 31 show you about how clearly Saul understands what God is doing? How is Saul's response to that news different from Jonathan's response to the very same news?
6. In verse 33 the spear that has been flying at David all series long turns and flies at Jonathan. What does verse 34 say Jonathan does, and why? Add up what his loyalty cost him in a single evening.
7. Read 20:35-42. The two of them built an elaborate system of arrows and code words so they'd never have to be seen together, and then the moment the boy is gone they throw the whole system out. What do they do instead in verse 41? And in verse 42, who does Jonathan say is keeping this promise?

Prayerfully Meditate

1. Jonathan rested this covenant on the Lord on purpose, because he knew he might not live long enough to keep it himself. He didn't. Where have you been resting a promise on your own strength instead of on God's?
2. A covenant is a promise strong enough to outlive the people who made it, because its keeper is God. So where does your assurance before God actually sit this morning, on the firmness of your grip on Him, or on His grip on you? Be honest about which one you were leaning on this week.
3. Saul and Jonathan sat at the same table, heard the same news about David, and went in opposite directions with it. When God visibly blesses somebody else in this church, the ministry you don't run or the family everybody's excited about, which way does your heart move first?
4. Jonathan's faithfulness to God's anointed cost him a meal, a spear, and a father in one night. What has following Jesus cost you? Have you been tempted lately to quietly soften your allegiance to get that seat back? Loyalty you can keep for free was never truly tested.
5. Some of you are walking through a parting you could not prevent. You did everything you could and it ended anyway. Where do you need to hear that you lost the nearness and you did not lose the covenant?

Intentionally Act

1. Read 1 Samuel 20 straight through before Sunday, and then read 2 Samuel 9 right behind it. That's where this covenant finally pays out, and it will change how you hear the sermon.
2. Pick one person in this church and act like you're in covenant with them this week, not just attending alongside them. Send the text, make the call, show up.
3. If somebody is being talked about or piled on and you're in the room, open your mouth on their behalf. It'll cost you something. Do it anyway.
4. If God is blessing someone in a way you had wanted for yourself, bless them out loud this week. Say it to their face rather than swallowing it.
5. If you've had a familiar seat at the feast but you've never bowed the knee to the King, don't carry that into another Sunday. Talk with me or with one of our shepherds this week.

Then learn the songs below, so you can come Sunday ready to sing them with the whole room instead of catching up on the second verse.

Songs for Sunday
Standing on the Promises
Holy Holy Holy
The Solid Rock  
Trust & Obey

Sunday we watched one victory split two hearts. Jonathan heard the same song Saul heard, and Jonathan took off his royal robe and handed it to David, while Saul started watching him. "Saul eyed David from that day on" (1 Samuel 18:9). Envy is grief over the grace God gave somebody else, and God carved His verdict on it into stone at Sinai: you shall not covet anything that is your neighbor's.

So here is the week's assignment, and it has two halves. First, watch for the sting. It shows up small, in a scroll past somebody's good news, in a name you can't hear praised without something tightening in your chest. When it comes, call it what verse 9 calls it. You're eyeing somebody. Second, make the robe move. Pick the person whose blessing has been hardest for you to watch, and celebrate them this week, out loud, on purpose, to their face.

Pray for Honduras
One more robe move is open to all of us this week: our team is in Honduras serving among children who need what every child in the Tri-State needs, the good news of Jesus.

Praying for them is not a lesser assignment while they do the real work. It is the work. Paul, the greatest missionary in the New Testament, begged the churches for it: "Finally, brothers, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may speed ahead and be honored" (2 Thessalonians 3:1). The word speeds ahead on the prayers of the people back home.

So pray specifically this week. Pray that the word of the Lord speeds ahead in Honduras and that our team speaks it boldly and clearly (Ephesians 6:19). Pray for their health, their stamina, and their unity. And pray for the children by name where you know names, because Jesus said, "Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God" (Mark 10:14). Ask God to let a generation of Honduran children meet the Anointed One this very week.

Associate Pastor Search Update
Thank you for praying with us through this season of searching. Your shepherds have kept bringing candidates before the Lord, and we've sat down with several godly men. At this point, though, we don't sense the Lord leading us to move forward with any one of them for the posted position, and we'd rather wait on His timing than get ahead of it. The position is still open, more resumes came in this week, and we're reading through them prayerfully. We're also thankful for the staff God has already given us, and for their faithful work this summer, much of it the kind nobody sees. Keep praying with us as we trust the Lord to provide the shepherd He has for us.                  

Preparing for Sunday - 1 Samuel 18-19

This Sunday we step into the long middle of the story, where Saul turns his whole strength against the man God has chosen and keeps missing. Before you gather, read 1 Samuel 18-19 slowly and watch a single sentence surface again and again: the Lord was with him. Come ready to see what God's presence does to every weapon raised against His anointed.

Critically Think

1. Read 18:1-4. One victory over Goliath, two hearts headed opposite directions. What does Jonathan hand David in 18:4? Remember who Jonathan is when you answer that.
2. Read 18:6-9. Which line of the women's song lights the fuse for Saul? And when the narrator says Saul "eyed David from that day on" (18:9), what's he telling you about Saul?
3. Now watch how fast Saul slides in 18:8-11. Angry, then watching, then a spear in the air. How long is the trip from a feeling to a weapon?
4. Twice the narrator tells you why David keeps winning (18:12, 18:14). What's the reason? And back in 18:12, who is Saul actually afraid of?
5. Read 18:17-25. Saul keeps saying "not my hand." How is he trying to get David killed without getting any blood on himself? And what does he call his own daughter in 18:21?
6. Read 19:1-7. Jonathan calls David "innocent," killed "without cause" (19:4-5), and Saul swears a real oath not to touch him (19:6). How long does that oath last (19:9-10)?
7. Read 19:11-24. Count everyone God uses to keep David alive: a son, a wife, a window, even a death squad that ends up preaching. And where does the manhunt finally leave Saul (19:23-24)?

Prayerfully Meditate
Saul heard David's name in the street and something in his chest went tight. Whose blessing can't you hear praised without that same sting? And what have you been calling it, so you don't have to call it envy?
Envy is just grief over the grace God gave someone else. Where is that grief hiding in you right now?
The man God is with cannot be stopped by the man God has left. If that is true of you in Christ, what are you still so afraid of?
Saul meant that oath when he swore it. It didn't survive the next spark. What sin have you been managing for years that God has been telling you to kill?
An experience of God is not the favor of God. Only a surrendered heart is. Are you leaning on something you once felt in worship, or on the Anointed who died and rose in your place?

Intentionally Act

1. Read 1 Samuel 18-19 before Sunday, and every time you hit "the Lord was with him," stop and let it land.
2. Make the Jonathan move. Pick one person whose blessing has stung you, and celebrate them this week out loud, to their face.
3. Name the sin you've been managing instead of killing. Confess it to God in plain words, and if you need to, to one believer you trust.
4. Go thank a Jonathan or a Michal in your life, someone God used to protect you or speak up for you when you weren't in the room. Tell them you can see God's hand in it now.
5. Learn the songs below before we gather, so Sunday you're not just hearing about God's presence but singing it over whatever fear you walked in with.

Songs for Sunday
Yes I Will 
In Christ Alone 
Build My Life
How Great Thou Art

Associate Pastor Search Update
Thank you for praying with us through this season of searching. Your shepherds have kept bringing candidates before the Lord, and we've sat down with several godly men. At this point, though, we don't sense the Lord leading us to move forward with any one of them for the posted position, and we'd rather wait on His timing than get ahead of it. The position is still open, more resumes came in this week, and we're reading through them prayerfully. We're also thankful for the staff God has already given us, and for their faithful work this summer, much of it the kind nobody sees. Keep praying with us as we trust the Lord to provide the shepherd He has for us.

Yesterday we stood in the valley of Elah and watched a shepherd drop a giant with a sling and a stone. And we learned that the battle is the LORD's. Israel did not win that day by being brave. Israel stood frozen on a hillside while a champion fought in their place, and the champion won, and his victory became their victory. That is the shape of the gospel, and it was there in the dirt of Elah a thousand years before the cross.

Now here is the question 1 Samuel 18 and 19 answer: what happens the day after the giant falls?

The army marches home. The women come out of every town with tambourines, singing: "Saul has struck down his thousands, and David his ten thousands" (1 Samuel 18:7). And that one song lands on two hearts and splits them in opposite directions. Jonathan, the crown prince, the man with the most to lose to David's rise, loves him, makes a covenant with him, and hands him his own royal robe. Saul, the king, hears the same lyrics and starts counting. "And Saul eyed David from that day on" (18:9). By the next morning there is a spear in the air.

From that day forward, the anointed becomes the hunted. That is where our series title stops being a preview and becomes the plot.

As you read these two chapters this week, watch for three things. First, follow the narrator's refrain. Three times he explains everything that happens with five words: "the LORD was with him" (18:12, 14, 28). Every scheme Saul runs crashes into that sentence. Second, count how many people love David. Jonathan, all Israel and Judah, Michal, even Saul's own servants. Then notice the one man in the kingdom who cannot, and ask why. Third, watch who God uses to keep David alive. A friend who speaks up. A wife who thinks fast. A window. God usually keeps His people through people, and most of them have no idea they were the rescue.

And keep one eye on Jesus as you read, because this pattern is bigger than David. Another beloved Son would one day be loved by the crowds, hated by the throne, and hunted without cause. Pilate himself could see "it was out of envy that the chief priests had delivered him up" (Mark 15:10).

One question to carry into Sunday: whose name is hard for you to hear praised? Be honest about the answer. Scripture has a name for what happens in that moment, and Sunday we will hear what God says about it.

Preparing for Sunday - 1 Samuel 17

This Sunday we come to one of the most familiar stories in the whole Bible, David and Goliath, and it's a story we almost always tell backward. Before you gather, spend some time in 1 Samuel 17 asking a different question than the one you're used to. Not "how do I beat my giant?" but "who wins the battle God's people cannot win?" Come ready to meet the Champion He sends.

Critically Think

1. Read 17:1-11. Notice how the narrator piles up Goliath's height and his bronze armor in verses 4-7. What effect does all that detail have on the way Israel, and you as the reader, sees him?
2. What exactly does Goliath propose in verses 8-9? Whose fate rides on the outcome of a single fight between two champions?
3. Look at 17:11 and 17:24. How do Saul and all Israel respond to the giant, and how long had this standoff already dragged on (17:16)?
4. In 17:23 and 26 David hears the very same words Israel had been hearing for forty days. What does he hear in them that everyone else had stopped hearing? Notice that for David this isn't first a military problem but a blasphemy problem.
5. Read 17:34-37. When David explains why he isn't afraid, what is his confidence actually resting on, his own record, or something else?
6. Why does David take off Saul's armor in 17:38-39, and why do you think the narrator lingers over the staff, the sling, and the five smooth stones in 17:40?
7. Read David's words in 17:45-47. In whose name does David come? According to verses 46-47, what is the whole point of this battle, and who does David say the battle belongs to? Then notice 17:50, "there was no sword in the hand of David." Why does the narrator want us to see that?

Prayerfully Meditate
Israel measured the giant against themselves and despaired right on schedule. Where in your own life are you measuring what you face against your own strength, and coming up short?
Israel counted the giant's height. David counted on the living God. What would change this week if you started measuring your trouble against the greatness of God instead of the size of the threat?
David's confidence wasn't nerve, it was memory. He reasoned from the God who had already delivered him. What has God already done for you that you've quietly stopped remembering?
The temptation in every crisis is to suit up in Saul's armor and fight the threat on the world's terms. What borrowed armor are you tempted to trust instead of the Lord Himself?
You do not win this battle. You follow the One who already won it. Where are you still straining to fight a battle Jesus has already fought and finished in your place?

Intentionally Act

1. Read 1 Samuel 17 all the way through before Sunday, slowly, watching how often the text points away from David's strength and back to the Lord who saves.
2. Name the giant you keep measuring against yourself. Write it down, and next to it write one true thing about the God that giant is up against.
3. Take an honest inventory of your Saul's armor, the securities you reach for when you're afraid, and deliberately lay one of them down before the Lord in prayer this week.
4. If you've never trusted the Champion who walked into the valley in your place, don't wait. Come Sunday ready to follow Him, and bring someone with you who needs to hear that the battle belongs to the Lord.
5. Learn the songs below before we gather, so that on Sunday you're not just hearing about the victory but singing the one that's already been won.
   
   

Songs for Sunday

• Glorious Day 
• Abide
• Victory in Jesus

Preparing for Sunday - July 5, 2026

This Sunday we start something new: Anointed and Hunted, our walk through the back half of 1 Samuel. Chapter 15 ended with Saul rejected and Samuel grieving him till the day he died. Chapter 16 opens right there, in that wreckage, and that's where we're picking up.
Here's the question I want you carrying into Sunday. What does God see when He looks at you, all the way down, past the part you curate? Could you survive being seen like that?
Work through these before you sit down in the pew, on your own, with your family, or with your group.

Critically Think

• Read 1 Samuel 16:1-5. God interrupts Samuel's grief with a question: "How long will you grieve over Saul?" What had God already done before Samuel was even sent (v. 1b)?
• Read 1 Samuel 16:6-7. Samuel takes one look at Eliab and thinks, "Surely the LORD's anointed is before him." What does the LORD say instead?
• Verse 7 is the sentence the whole chapter turns on: "man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart." What's the difference between the way we see and the way He sees?
• Seven of Jesse's sons pass in front of Samuel, and seven times the answer is no (vv. 8-10). Who finally gets sent for, and what's he doing when the message reaches him (vv. 11-12)?
• The moment Samuel anoints David, what happens to him (v. 13)?
• Read 1 Samuel 16:14-23. In the very next verse, what happens to the Spirit of the LORD in relation to Saul? What comes on him instead?
• David is already anointed, though nobody else knows it yet. How does he end up serving inside Saul's own house (vv. 17-21)?

Prayerfully Meditate

• Sit with verse 7 again. Where are you focusing on an image, a reputation, an accomplishment, that God isn't? What would it look like to bring Him your heart instead?
• David is anointed king in verse 13. By verse 21 he's still just a shepherd running errands, walking straight into the house of the man who will hunt him. Being chosen by God did not buy him an easy road. Where have you expected His favor to guarantee ease when Scripture never promised you that?
• The Spirit rushes on David in verse 13 and leaves Saul in verse 14, back to back, in the same breath. It's possible to keep going through the motions of faith when your heart is running from God? Does that describe any part of your life right now?
• Read Jeremiah 17:9-10 and Isaiah 53:2 alongside this chapter. If the LORD looks on the heart, none of us holds up under that kind of look on our own. So how does this chapter point you to a King whose heart was, in the end, wholly His Father's?

Intentionally Act

• Name one specific place you've been polishing a surface God isn't looking at. Bring Him the heart instead this week.
• If you feel overlooked, passed over at work, at home, in this church, remember that David was the one nobody even sent for. Let that shape your prayers this week.
• If you recognize Saul in yourself, going through the motions while your heart has drifted, turn back this week while the turning's still open.
• Ask the Lord for a new heart (Ezekiel 36:26), not because yours passes inspection, but because Christ's did, in your place.
• Learn the songs below before Sunday.
  
  

Songs for Sunday

• Holy Forever 
• Behold Our God
• O Praise the Name (Anastasis) 
• Come Thou Fount

This past Sunday we closed our series on the rise and rejection of King Saul. But here is something worth noticing. We did not close the book on Saul. He does not walk offstage when the series ends. He stays in the story for a long time yet, clinging to a throne that has already been taken from him and hunting the very man God chose to replace him. He does not leave. He just stops being the one the camera follows. From here on, the spotlight belongs to someone else.

So where does it turn? It turns to go looking for a heart.

Saul looked like a king. He was tall, chosen, capable. He swore oaths in God's name, built altars, and fought the LORD's battles. And God rejected him anyway, because underneath all the religion, Saul kept back the one thing God actually wanted. His heart. To obey is better than sacrifice, and Saul never gave God his obedience. He gave God a performance.

So God went looking elsewhere, and He found a shepherd. His name is David, and the moment he steps onstage, God says the sentence that will hang over this whole next season of our study: "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature... For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7).

Sit with that, because it is good news and searching news at the same time. God is not impressed by the things that impress us. He is not counting your attendance like trophies or weighing your reputation. He is looking past all of it, straight at your heart. David is not chosen because he is the strongest or the most polished. He is the overlooked shepherd boy whose heart belonged to God. He will sin, and sin terribly. Saul managed his image. David, when he fell, broke and ran back to God.

So here is the challenge as we turn the page. Do not come to the David series as a spectator collecting Bible stories. Come as someone willing to be seen. Pray the prayer David himself prayed: "Search me, O God, and know my heart... and see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139:23-24).

There is a moment fear loves. The situation is pressing, the clock is running, and a voice starts up inside you. Do something. Anything. You cannot just sit here.

Saul knew that voice. In 1 Samuel 13 the Philistines have massed an army he cannot count, his own soldiers are hiding in caves, and Samuel, who told him to wait seven days at Gilgal, still has not come. The deadline is almost up. And with the seven days not yet finished, Saul gives up waiting and offers the sacrifice himself. The moment he finishes, Samuel walks in. "I forced myself," Saul says. He felt the line and stepped over it on purpose, and it cost him the kingdom God would have established forever.

Here is why this text lands in our pews. Most of us are not in open rebellion against God. We are doing something more subtle and more reasonable. We are making the exception. We know what God has said about the relationship, the money, the conversation we owe, the habit we keep in the dark. But the pressure is real and the waiting is long, so we force the moment and build a tidy explanation for why we had to.

Notice that Saul's defense was completely true. The people were scattering. Samuel was late. None of it moved the verdict an inch. Our circumstances do not rewrite the command of God.

So name your Gilgal this week. Find the one place you have stopped waiting on God and started handling it yourself, and bring it back to Him. Do the thing you have been putting off. Trust that He has not forgotten you and He is not late.

The heart God is looking for follows His word, not its own fear. You will never manufacture that heart by trying harder. It was found whole in Jesus, who knelt in His own garden with the cross only hours away and said, "Not my will, but yours, be done." He obeyed where we force the moment, and He gives that heart away to everyone who comes to Him.

Sunday we stood with Israel at Gilgal, a people who had failed and knew it, standing in the rain and certain they were about to be swept away. And we watched Samuel do something remarkable. Before one word of rebuke, he told them to stand still and look at the record of what God had done. That same word is for us this week.

Look at the record. When fear shows up on your doorstep the way it showed up on Israel's, your instinct is to scramble for something you can see and touch. Stop and look back instead. Start writing down the times you cried out and God answered, with dates, so you have something solid to reach for in the next hard season. Then tell those stories to your children, because the record of His faithfulness does not pass down on its own.

Take His word seriously. Name the one area where you have been treating God's word as optional, whether it is a relationship, a habit, or a marriage you stopped working on, and obey there this week. The consequences are never as distant as they feel. And if past failure has you convinced the verdict is already in, hear verse 20: "Do not be afraid." The welcome belongs to everyone who turns around. Turn today.

Rest in who He is. When your assurance wavers, stop checking your own performance and preach the two grounds back to yourself: His great name and His own pleasure in choosing you. The ground is not you. It is Him. Bring your failures to the cross, where the "swept away" already fell on Jesus, and turn from every empty thing you keep running to, because the One who feared God perfectly in your place now lives to pray for you.

So this week, fear the Lord and serve Him faithfully. We do it for one reason, the same reason Samuel gave Israel: He is the kind of God who is worth it. Consider what great things He has done for you.

There is a moment in the life of a growing church when the question stops being can we afford to hire? and starts being can we afford not to? We have reached that moment.

Over the past few years, First Baptist Kenova has grown in ways that are genuinely encouraging. Our average weekly attendance is now around 450, and that number reflects real people who have been added to our fellowship and need to be cared for. That kind of growth is a gift from God, and we do not take it lightly. But growth brings responsibility, and one of the most important responsibilities a church has is making sure its members are genuinely known and cared for by their pastors.

Here is the honest reality: we have not had a full pastoral staff since before COVID. The disruptions of those years affected staffing at churches everywhere, and FBCK was no exception. We have been leaning hard on a smaller team than a congregation our size actually needs.

Churches that run in the 350 to 500 attendance range typically need four or more pastoral leaders to sustain the kind of shepherding, teaching, and leadership development that healthy church life requires. We currently have three full-time ministry staff. That gap is not a criticism of anyone. It is simply a description of where we are and what we need.

The Associate Pastor we are working to call will strengthen our capacity in several specific ways. He will provide pastoral oversight for our worship ministry, developing the leaders within it and helping ensure that everything we do on Sunday morning is shaped by a genuinely pastoral vision. He will join the preaching rotation and share the teaching load. He will sit with our shepherds, participate in elder decisions, and carry a portion of the pastoral care that our congregation needs. And over time, he will help us build the kind of discipleship culture that produces future leaders from within our own membership.

This is not an ambitious expansion. It is a restoration of something we lost, and a commitment to shepherd this congregation with the care it deserves.

And that is exactly why we need your prayers. Calling a pastor is not a hiring decision. It is a spiritual one, and we want to get it right. Please pray that God would make the right man clear to us, that he would prepare that man's heart before he ever walks through our doors, and that our congregation would receive him well when the time comes. Pray for wisdom for the shepherds as we lead this process, and pray that what God is building here would be built on more than good intentions. We are trusting him with this, and we are grateful to be trusting him together with you.

The sermon Sunday named a pattern. We crown things beside God, ask God for them, and discover they cannot save us. The bottom line was simple: the king you ask for is not the King you need.

On a Sunday morning that sentence lands. The harder work is doing something with it on a Tuesday.

Here is one exercise for the week. Take ten minutes, get a piece of paper, and finish this sentence three different ways: "If I am honest, I have been asking God for ___, and I have been treating it like it would finally fix me." Career advancement. A specific relationship outcome. A health concern resolved. A child making the choice you want them to make. A particular feeling about yourself.

Anything you have been bringing to God repeatedly, with intensity, as if the arrival of it would settle the deeper restlessness underneath.

Now read what you wrote. That is your list of lesser kings. Not your sins. Not your idols in the dramatic sense. The things you are asking God for that you are also crowning beside him.

The next step is not to stop wanting those things. Most of them are good things. The next step is to add a sentence to each one. "Whether or not you give me this, you are still the King I need." Say it out loud over each item. If you cannot say it without flinching, that is the diagnostic. You have been treating the gift as the King.

This is the discipline of asking without crowning. It does not mean you stop asking. Saul was the answer to a prayer God yielded to. Asking is not the problem. Asking with the wrong expectation is the problem.

If you are walking with a child or a spouse who is asking God for things and getting the silence that feels like no, the same exercise works for them, said in the second person: "Whether or not God gives you this, he is still the King you need." Pray that over them.
 
Repeat it.

And on Sunday, come back ready to confess what you have crowned and ready to receive the only King who is not a disappointment.

The king you ask for is not the King you need. The King you need is already provided

Some of you left Sunday with something sitting on your chest. You know what it is. You have known for a while.

Maybe it is a pattern you keep returning to. Maybe it is something you have been carrying alongside your faith for so long that it almost feels normal. Maybe you cried at some point in the service and then drove home and were not sure what to do with that.

Here is what I want you to hear this week. The crying is not the problem. The grief is not wrong. Israel lamented for twenty years, and the text does not call that fake. It calls it incomplete.

Lament is real sorrow over real loss, brought honestly before God. It is not nothing. But it is not repentance, and the Bible never treats it as though it is.

Repentance has hands. It puts something down. It is not a feeling you have in a church service and then carry home unchanged. It is a turn, and turns have a direction. You move away from something and toward someone.

So here is the question I want you to sit with this week: Is there something sitting on your shelf next to Christ that needs to come down?

Not a vague sense that you could be doing better. Something specific. A habit. A relationship. A pattern of control. A grudge you have decided is justified. A version of yourself you are protecting.

Name it. Out loud if you can. That is what Israel did at Mizpah. They did not say we wish things were different. They said we have sinned against the LORD. Plain, specific, directed at him.

And then here is the good news, and I need you to hear it as good news and not just as a next step on a list. You do not come to God cleaned up. You come through a mediator who is already interceding for you. Christ is not waiting for you to have it together. He is at the altar right now, and he has been there every moment you were walking away.

The Israelites at Mizpah had nothing to bring but a confession and a lamb. That was enough.

Put the idol down. Come through the mediator. Name your Ebenezers.

The hand that helped them is still on you.

Two nations. Two chapters. One truth.

The Philistines thought they could own God. They put the ark in Dagon's temple like a trophy and went to sleep assuming their god had won. By morning, Dagon was face-down on the floor. They picked him up and put him back. The next morning he was face-down again, this time in pieces. They never asked what it meant. They just kept stepping over the evidence and calling it fine.

Then they tried to contain him. Seven months of routing the ark from city to city, looking for somewhere it would stop causing problems. There was no such place. You can pass the problem along. You cannot pass God along.

Then the Israelites tried to approach him on their own terms. The ark came home, the people rejoiced, and then seventy men looked into it and were dead before the wheat harvest was over. These were not pagans. These were Levites. People who knew exactly what the law required. Presumption cost them everything.

Both nations ended up at the same question. Who is able to stand before the LORD, this holy God?

Here is what I want you to sit with this week.

That question is not just a line in an ancient text. It is the most honest question any of us can ask. And most of us spend a significant portion of our lives trying to avoid answering it directly.

We own him. We put him on the shelf beside everything else we have decided to keep and expect a peaceful arrangement. We contain him. We stay religious enough to feel okay without being submitted enough to have actually changed. We approach him on our own terms. We assume that familiarity with holy things is the same as standing rightly before a holy God.

The text says otherwise.

But here is what the text also says, if you follow it all the way to Christ. Romans 3:25 puts forward Jesus as the mercy seat. The lid of the ark. The one place in the world where the holiness of God and the sinfulness of man were addressed together, through blood, once for all.

The ark killed people who mishandled it. Christ died for those people.

Standing before God on your own terms is impossible. Standing before him through Christ is the whole gospel.

So this week, ask the question. And this time, stay for the answer.                      

There's a question most religious people never think to ask. It's not a comfortable one, but this past Sunday it was the one the text forced on all of us.

Is it possible to do everything right on the outside and still have the glory of God absent from your life?

Israel thought the answer was no. They were wrong. And the hard lesson of 1 Samuel 4 is that religious activity without genuine repentance will always end in Ichabod. The glory has departed.

Here's what makes this so unsettling. The glory didn't leave in a moment of obvious rebellion. It left subtly, gradually, while the priests were still showing up and the sacrifices were still being offered. The form was completely intact. The heart was gone. And nobody noticed until a dying woman named her baby after it.

That's the diagnosis this chapter puts on the table for all of us this week. Not whether you're attending church or reading your Bible or serving somewhere, but whether any of that has become a substitute for actually dealing with God. Israel asked exactly the right question after their defeat: why has the Lord done this? But instead of repenting, they reached for the Ark. They took the right object and used it to avoid the honest answer.
We do the same thing. We wake up earlier. We sign up for more. We add another visible layer of religious activity. And none of it is bad in itself. But when we use it to avoid the harder conversation, the one where we actually name the sin, confess the pattern, and stop managing our way around God, it becomes our version of the Ark.

So here's the question worth sitting with this week: is there any area of your life where Ichabod is written over the door and you've been pretending not to see it?

The good news is that chapter 7 is always available. The same people, the same land, the same enemies, but this time they fasted and confessed and sought God. And He showed up completely. The difference wasn't strategy. It was repentance.

The God who turned Ichabod into Ebenezer is the same God in the room with you right now. He's not waiting for you to bring Him something. He's waiting for you to come back to Him.

There is a moment in 1 Samuel 3 that should feel uncomfortably familiar. The word of the Lord was rare. Not gone entirely, but scarce enough that you'd notice the absence the way you notice when a room goes suddenly still. And the reason it was rare wasn't mysterious. The men responsible for bringing God's word to God's people had turned the whole arrangement into something that served them instead.

Three hundred years of national drift had produced exactly what you'd expect. Corrupt priests. A failing leader too comfortable to confront what he already knew. A lamp barely burning. And the uncomfortable truth the narrator doesn't soften: the silence of God and the sin of God's people are cause and effect, not coincidence.

Here's what that means for us. If God feels distant, the first question isn't "when will He speak again?" It's "why has He gone quiet?" Is there something you're protecting? A place where you've quietly decided your preferences matter more than His word? God doesn't shout over our rebellion. Sometimes He just stops. And the stopping is the message.

But that isn't where the passage ends, and it shouldn't be where we camp. Because in that dark room with a nearly blind priest and a lamp almost out, one person was sleeping near the ark. Samuel hadn't heard God's voice before. He didn't even recognize it when it came.
 
He kept running to Eli. But he was near the presence of God, and that posture was everything.

When God finally called clearly and Samuel finally answered, the word wasn't easy. It was a word of judgment delivered to the man Samuel had grown up serving. And Samuel was afraid. But he told Eli everything. He didn't soften it. He didn't edit it. He said the whole thing. And Eli bowed his head and received it.

That's the posture the whole passage is driving toward. Close enough to hear. Submitted enough to obey. Honest enough to say it out loud.

The good news is that God doesn't need better conditions to speak. He never has. He needs people positioned near His presence, willing to say what He gives them. He found that posture in Samuel. He found it in a young woman in Nazareth. And He's still looking for it today.

Speak, Lord. Your servant hears.

Most of us will never steal from a church offering plate. Most of us will never commit the kinds of sins Hophni and Phinehas committed in plain sight at the tabernacle. So it's easy to read a passage like 1 Samuel 2 and feel like we're watching someone else's story.

But the passage's most pointed warning isn't aimed at people who've wandered far from God. It's aimed at people who are close to him every single day. People who know the vocabulary, the calendar, the procedures. People who show up. The warning is that it's entirely possible to be that person and still not know God at all.

So here's the question worth sitting with this week: when you engage with the things of God, what are you actually doing?

When you open your Bible, are you genuinely coming to hear from God, or are you checking a box? When you show up on Sunday, are you there to encounter the living God, or to maintain your standing? When you serve, lead, give, or teach, who is that actually for? These aren't trick questions designed to produce guilt. They're diagnostic questions, the same kind the narrator of 1 Samuel is pressing throughout the passage. The issue isn't your activity. It's the posture of your heart behind it.

Here's something worth practicing this week. Before you engage in any act of worship or service, take sixty seconds and ask God one question: is my heart actually here? Not your body. Not your schedule. Your heart. That single habit, practiced consistently, is the difference between the linen ephod Samuel wore as a child and the priestly vestments Hophni and Phinehas wore as corrupt men. The garments looked the same from the outside. God saw straight through to what was underneath.

The good news this passage keeps insisting on is that you have a faithful priest who intercedes for you permanently. On the days when your heart isn't where it should be, on the days when you recognize a little too much of Eli in yourself, on the days when the familiarity has crowded out the fear, you have someone standing before God on your behalf who never has that problem. He always did what was in the Father's heart. He always will.
Draw near to him today. Not to the procedures. Not to the vocabulary. To him.

As we step into a new series in 1 Samuel, I want to invite you to do something a little different. Before we walk through it week by week, let’s zoom out and see the whole story. Not every detail, but the movement. The tension. The thread that holds it all together.

Because every story is driven by a question.

And the question underneath 1 Samuel is this: What kind of king do God’s people actually need?

But if you slow down and press a little deeper, there’s a more personal question sitting just beneath it. Will we trust God’s rule, or will we insist on our own?

From the very beginning, the book starts turning our expectations upside down. It opens quietly. Not with a throne or a display of power, but with Hannah. A woman marked by weakness, sorrow, and dependence. She has no platform and no leverage. What she has is a heart poured out before the Lord.

And right alongside her, you have Eli’s sons. Religious leaders. Visible. Influential. Positioned in the very place where the knowledge of God should be most clear. And yet the text says they did not know the Lord.

That contrast is not subtle.

One is humble and dependent.

The others are proud and entitled.

And God makes His posture unmistakably clear. “Those who honor me I will honor, and those who despise me shall be lightly esteemed” (1 Samuel 2:30).

That is not just a statement for that moment. It becomes the melody of the entire book.
As the story unfolds, that melody plays again and again. Israel rejects God as their king and asks for someone they can see. Someone like the nations. And God gives them Saul.

At first, Saul looks like the answer. He is strong. He stands out. He feels like the kind of leader people would naturally choose. But when pressure builds, his heart is revealed. He adjusts obedience. He listens to the voice of the people. He holds on to control when God has called him to trust.

And eventually, God rejects him. Not impulsively, but consistently. In line with what He has already said.

Then comes David.

He is not the obvious choice. In fact, he is overlooked at first. But God is not looking at the outside. He is looking at the heart. And what you see in David is different. Where Saul grasps, David waits. Where Saul manages outcomes, David entrusts himself to God.

And through his life, the pattern becomes clearer. God is not impressed with outward strength. He responds to humility.

Even David is not the end of the story.

He points forward to a better King. Jesus. The One who did not grasp for position, but humbled Himself fully. Even to the point of death on a cross.

And because of that, He was exalted.

So as we walk through 1 Samuel, listen for the melody.

God rejects the proud and establishes the humble through His chosen King.

And do not just study that truth. Let it press in on you.

Because this is not just about understanding a king. It is about bowing to one.

Church family,

Before we look ahead, I just want to say thank you.

This past week was a gift. From our CK Holy Week gatherings, to the Seder Supper, to Good Friday, the Easter Egg Hunt, and Resurrection Sunday, so many of you went above and beyond to love people well. You served, invited, prepared meals, welcomed guests, and made space for others to hear and see the gospel clearly. It was evident all week long that this you care deeply about both our church family and our community. I’m grateful to shepherd a people like that.

And as we come out of Easter, we’re not slowing down. We’re stepping into a new series that I believe is going to be both encouraging and confronting in all the right ways.
Beginning this April, we’ll walk through 1 Samuel 1 through 15 in a series called Rise and Rejection: Saul, King of Israel.

This is the story of how God raises leaders and why He removes them.

We’ll follow a desperate prayer that changes everything. A nation that wants a king like everyone else. A man who rises quickly and slowly drifts. And the quiet danger of partial obedience.

Saul’s story is not just about a king long ago. It’s about the kind of heart God honors and the kind He opposes. It shows us how easy it is to start well and how dangerous it is to substitute appearance for obedience.

If we’re honest, we’ll see some of the same tendencies in ourselves. The pull to fear people. The temptation to manage how we’re perceived. The habit of knowing what God has said while hesitating to actually do it.

And through all of it, one truth keeps pressing in on us:

God exalts the humble but opposes the proud.

My prayer is that this series will help us grow in humility, deepen our obedience, and sharpen our awareness of God’s authority in every part of our lives.

I’m really looking forward to walking through this together.

Let’s come ready.

There’s a line from that old song I Can See Clearly Now that’s been stuck in my head this week:

“I can see clearly now, the rain is gone…”

Most of us know that feeling. Not just physically, but spiritually. There are moments where something lifts, something clicks, and all of a sudden what felt confusing starts to make sense. What felt blurry comes into focus.

But here’s the reality. A lot of the time, we don’t realize we’re not seeing clearly.
You can be around Jesus. You can hear His Word regularly. You can even be serving and engaged in church life and still be seeing Him a little out of focus. Not completely wrong, but not fully clear either.

And the danger is you can get used to that.

You can settle into a version of Jesus that feels familiar and comfortable without ever asking if it’s actually accurate.

So how do we move toward clarity?

It starts with responding to what Jesus has already made clear.

Most of the time, the issue in our lives is not lack of information. It is hesitation. We know what Jesus has said about forgiveness, purity, honesty, priorities, or generosity. The question is whether we are acting on it. Clarity grows on the other side of obedience. When you respond to what He has said, your heart becomes more sensitive. When you delay, things start to dull.

Second, we have to pay attention to the lens we’re using.

All of us read Scripture and interpret Jesus through something. Our experiences, our fears, our preferences, even our circumstances in the moment. The question is not whether you have a lens. The question is whether you are letting Scripture correct it. Are you submitting to what Jesus says, or are you quietly adjusting it to fit what feels easier?

Third, clarity requires humility.

The people who saw Jesus most clearly in the Gospels were not the most informed. They were the most dependent. They came to Him aware of their need, not confident in themselves. If you want to see Jesus clearly, you have to keep coming to Him that way. Open. Teachable. Ready to be corrected.

And finally, stay close.

That song talks about the rain being gone, but spiritually, clarity does not always come all at once. Sometimes it comes in stages. There are seasons where you can see, but not as clearly as you want to. That does not mean something is wrong. It means Jesus is still at work.

The answer is not to step back until everything makes sense. It is to lean in. Stay in His Word. Keep praying. Keep obeying what you already know.

Because Jesus is committed to finishing what He starts.

So do not settle for a blurry view of Him.

Stay near Him. And over time, you will find yourself able to say, not because of your effort but because of His work,

“I can see clearly now.”

Sometimes the hardest moment in following Jesus is the moment when you realize you do not have enough.

You step into a conversation about faith and feel unprepared. You see a need in someone’s life and do not know how to help. You sense God calling you to serve or lead or step into something new and the first thought that hits your mind is simple and honest. I am not sure I can do this.

That moment can feel discouraging. But in Mark 6 it is actually the moment where Jesus begins to do some of His most important work.

The disciples faced exactly that situation. Thousands of people were gathered in a remote place. Evening was coming. There was no food. When they looked at their resources they
had five loaves and two fish. That was it.

From their perspective the situation was impossible.

What Jesus did next reveals something about how He works with His people. He did not remove the need. He did not lower the expectations. Instead He invited the disciples to bring what they had and place it in His hands.

Then He multiplied it.

That moment teaches an important lesson about the Christian life. God rarely calls us to tasks that match our strength perfectly. More often He leads us into situations where our limits become obvious. That is not a mistake. It is part of how He teaches us to depend on Him.

Many of us would prefer a different arrangement. We want to feel fully prepared before we step forward in obedience. We want to see exactly how things will work before we commit ourselves to the mission.

But the pattern we see in Scripture is different. Jesus often asks His people to trust Him before they see how the provision will come.

The good news is that the mission of Jesus has never depended on the strength of His servants. It depends on the power of the Savior.

So when you encounter a need that feels bigger than you are, do not let that become an excuse to step back. Instead bring what you have to Christ. Offer your time. Offer your gifts.
 
Offer your willingness to obey.

Then watch what the Shepherd can do with what you place in His hands.

One of the most dangerous things that can happen in the Christian life is becoming comfortable with Jesus.

Not hostile toward Him.

Not openly opposed to Him.

Just… familiar.

That was the problem in Nazareth.

The people there weren’t atheists. They weren’t pagans. They didn’t deny that Jesus was remarkable. In fact, Mark tells us they were astonished by His teaching. They heard wisdom in His words and knew about the miracles happening through Him.

But instead of moving toward Him in faith, they stepped back in skepticism.

“Isn’t this the carpenter?”

In other words, we know this guy. We’ve seen Him around. We know His family. We know His background.

And that familiarity quietly became unbelief.

Meanwhile, just a short distance away, two very different people encountered the same Jesus.

A woman who had suffered for twelve years pushed through a crowd just to touch His garment. She didn’t have status or influence, but she had faith and she walked away healed.

A synagogue ruler named Jairus watched hope collapse when the message arrived that his daughter had died. But when Jesus said, “Do not fear, only believe,” Jairus chose to trust Him—and he walked home with his daughter alive.

Three responses to the same Jesus.

Two responded with faith.

One responded with unbelief.

And the difference had nothing to do with intelligence, background, or religious knowledge.
It had everything to do with trust.

That same question still confronts us today.

It is entirely possible to grow up hearing about Jesus. To attend church regularly. To know the Bible stories and the language of faith.

And still never actually come to Him in trust.

The people of Nazareth thought they understood Jesus well enough to dismiss Him. The woman and Jairus simply believed He was their only hope.

And that made all the difference.

When Jesus reveals His authority, every heart eventually responds one of two ways.
Some come to Him in faith.

Others keep Him at a distance.

The invitation of the gospel is not merely to admire Jesus, or to learn about Him, or to be familiar with His story.

The invitation is to trust Him.

Because the same truth that played out in Galilee still holds today:

Faith receives life.

But unbelief turns Him away.

Most of us would never say it out loud, but many of us live as if the goal of life is simply to keep everything under control.

Keep the schedule together.
Keep the finances steady.
Keep the relationships from unraveling.
Keep the future predictable.

As long as the boat still feels manageable, we tell ourselves we’re doing fine.

But storms have a way of exposing how fragile that illusion really is.

Sometimes the storm is obvious, like a diagnosis, a job loss, a relationship fracture, a moment when life suddenly feels much bigger than your strength. Other times the storm is quieter. Anxiety that won’t let you sleep. A persistent sense of pressure. The slow realization that you can’t fix something that matters deeply to you.

In those moments, two instincts usually appear.

The first is control. We work harder, think harder, plan harder. If we can just organize things well enough, maybe we can steady the boat.

The second instinct is distance. When following Jesus begins to confront something costly (our priorities, our comfort, our security) it becomes tempting to politely keep Him at arm’s length. Close enough to admire. Not close enough to disrupt.

But the invitation of the gospel moves us in a different direction entirely.

Jesus does not call people to hold their lives together on their own. He calls them to trust the One who already holds authority over the chaos we fear most.

That changes how we face storms.

It means we can bring our fears honestly to Him instead of pretending we’re fine. Faith doesn’t require pretending the waves are small. It simply means remembering who is in the boat.

It also means surrendering areas of life we tend to guard. Sometimes we want Jesus to calm the storm without touching the deeper loyalties of our hearts. But His authority is not partial. He comes not just to stabilize our circumstances but to transform us.

And for those who have experienced His mercy, there is one more step.

Tell the story.

You don’t need polished answers or complicated explanations. The most powerful witness in the world is still the simplest one: telling people what the Lord has done for you.

Storms reveal what we trust.

And when people see a life anchored not in control but in Christ, they start asking the same question the disciples once asked:

“Who then is this?”

On Sunday we stood on that shoreline in Mark 4 and watched Jesus do something that
still feels surprising. The crowd is huge. The moment is ripe. If there were ever a time to
lean into momentum, this was it.

And He talks about dirt.

That wasn’t a missed opportunity. It was the point. Jesus has never been captivated by
the size of a crowd. He cares about the condition of a heart. Which means the real
takeaway from this passage isn’t whether the sermon was clear or compelling. It’s
whether the Word actually settled into us.

So what does that look like this week?

It starts with how we listen.

Most of us slip into evaluation mode without realizing it. We think about structure.
Delivery. Whether it held our attention. But in this parable, we are not the critics in the
crowd. We are the soil in the field.

When you open your Bible this week, or even reflect back on Sunday, notice where you
felt tension. What line made you uncomfortable? What truth did you instinctively want to
soften or redirect toward someone else? That’s often where the ground is hard.

Hardness rarely announces itself. It shows up as defensiveness. As delay. As a quiet
internal argument. If something pressed on you, don’t move past it too quickly. Sit there.
Pray there. Let the Word do more than skim the surface.

Then there’s the temptation to mistake emotion for depth.

Shallow soil responds quickly. It looks alive. But roots are not built in moments of
inspiration. They grow slowly, out of sight. In daily obedience. In choosing Christ when it
costs something. In confessing sin instead of protecting your image. That is where real
depth forms.

And the thorns. Those might be the most familiar.

Jesus doesn’t describe loud rebellion. He talks about worries, wealth, and the desire for
other things. It’s the crowded heart. The distracted life. You don’t reject Christ outright.
You just give your best attention elsewhere.

So ask yourself some honest questions. What fills your thoughts when you have a quiet
moment? What feels untouchable in your life? When was the last time you slowed down
enough to really hear from the Lord?

Pulling thorns might mean saying no to something good in order to protect something
eternal.

Here is the encouragement in all of it. You are not responsible for creating life. The
power has always been in the seed. Our role is to receive it with humility, to repent
where needed, and to trust that God is at work beneath the surface.

The difference between being near Jesus and belonging to Him is fruit. Not perfection.
Not activity. Fruit.

So don’t just remember the story.

Let it search you. Check the soil.

Most of us who have spent years in the church know exactly what it means to live near Jesus. His words are familiar. His name feels natural on our lips. His people are our people. His songs are the soundtrack of our lives. There is a kind of nearness that becomes part of the rhythm of who we are.

But the question this passage presses into our lives is not whether Jesus is familiar. The question is whether He is followed.

Because allegiance to Jesus shows up in the ordinary places of life, not just the gathered places of worship.

It shows up on Monday morning when obedience costs you something. When telling the truth makes you look weak. When refusing to participate in gossip makes you feel isolated. When integrity closes doors that compromise would have opened. Allegiance to Jesus means you no longer ask what is easiest or most advantageous. You ask what is faithful.
It shows up in private moments when no one else sees. When temptation offers secrecy and convenience. When your mind drifts toward sin and no one would know if you entertained it. Belonging to Jesus means you remember that you are not your own. You have been claimed. You have been bought. You have been brought into His family.

It shows up in suffering. When prayers seem unanswered. When circumstances feel heavy. When the path forward is unclear. Allegiance means you continue to trust His authority even when His purposes are not immediately visible. You do not step away when life becomes difficult. You draw nearer because you know there is nowhere else to go.
It shows up in repentance. Those who belong to Jesus do not pretend to be sinless. They are honest about their sin and quick to bring it into the light. They do not defend what Christ died to forgive. They confess it. They turn from it. They trust Him to keep reshaping them.

This is not about earning a place in His family. It is about living as someone who already has one.

Jesus has not called you merely to admire Him. He has called you to belong to Him. And belonging changes the direction of your life. Your decisions begin to reflect His authority. Your priorities begin to reflect His kingdom. Your identity begins to rest in His grace rather than your performance.

This week, you will face moments where allegiance becomes visible. Small choices. Quiet decisions. Hidden crossroads of the heart.

In those moments, remember who you belong to.

Not simply a teacher you admire. Not simply a Savior you appreciate. But a Lord you follow.

And there is no safer place to be than under His authority.

One of the dangers of the Christian life is how easy it is to separate admiration from submission.

It is possible to admire Jesus deeply. To read His Word regularly. To sit under faithful preaching. To affirm sound doctrine. And yet, at the same time, to resist Him in specific, personal ways.

Not openly. Not defiantly. But subtly.

We learn how to listen without yielding.

Most Christians do not reject Jesus outright. Instead, we assume He has rightful authority over our lives in general, while quietly maintaining control over particular areas. We trust Him with eternity, but hesitate to trust Him with today. We affirm His lordship in principle, but negotiate with Him in practice.

And usually, the resistance reveals itself in ordinary places.

A pattern of speech we know is wrong, but continue to excuse.

A relationship that pulls our heart away from obedience.

A private sin we intend to address someday, but not yet.

A step of obedience we know is right, but hope to delay.

We rarely say, “I will not obey.” Instead, we simply wait. We postpone. We create space between conviction and action.

But delayed obedience is still resistance.

Scripture has a way of exposing these places. Not all at once, but patiently. Faithfully. It presses into areas we would prefer remain untouched. And when it does, we face a quiet but significant decision. Will we trust Jesus enough to obey Him there?

This is where the Christian life becomes deeply personal.

Because Jesus does not confront sin merely to correct behavior. He confronts it to restore what sin has diminished. His authority is not harsh or arbitrary. It is careful and purposeful.

He presses on specific areas of our lives because He intends to make us whole.

Yet obedience often feels risky. It requires us to release control. It requires us to trust that His way is better, even when it is harder.

This is why so many areas of spiritual growth begin with simple, immediate steps of obedience. Confessing sin instead of hiding it. Seeking reconciliation instead of preserving pride. Turning away from patterns we have tolerated for too long.

Growth rarely begins with dramatic change. It begins with quiet surrender.

And over time, those small acts of trust reshape the heart. They loosen sin’s grip. They deepen our confidence in Christ. They remind us that His authority is not something to fear, but something to welcome.

Because wherever Jesus presses, He does so as the One who loves us. The One who gave Himself for us. The One who is committed not only to forgiving us, but to transforming us.

And the safest, most freeing place a Christian can live is under His gracious and perfect authority.

Special Business Meeting
We’re holding a special called business meeting for FBC members this Sunday at the conclusion of our morning gatherings.  The purpose of the meeting is to amend the budget to cover worship ministry during this transitional period and to affirm Teri Hunt as a new deaconess.

Purpose and Ministry Transition

Following the resignation of our Worship Director, the Council of Shepherds has reviewed the ongoing needs of our worship and technology ministries. While that leadership position has changed, the weekly responsibilities of preparing services, coordinating volunteers, and supporting both worship and technical teams remain essential.

At the same time, the spiritual leadership, theological direction, and development of those serving in worship continue to fall within the role of the Shepherds.

Rather than immediately filling another director-level position, the Shepherds are recommending a revised staffing structure that places ministry leadership and oversight with the Council of Shepherds and assigns week-to-week operational responsibilities to two part-time Pastoral Assistants.

This approach aligns with the church constitution and reflects both ministry effectiveness and responsible financial stewardship.

Staffing Plan: Promotion of Benton Rucker and Alec Lockhart

To provide continuity and stability following this transition, the Shepherds recommend promoting two individuals who are already faithfully serving within these ministries.
Benton Rucker will be promoted from Worship Intern to Pastoral Assistant for Worship Ministry, focusing primarily on worship team coordination and service preparation.
Alec Lockhart will serve as Pastoral Assistant for Technical Ministry and Junior High Coordination, overseeing technical operations for worship services and coordinating the Wednesday night junior high ministry.

Both positions will be part-time, with an expected commitment of approximately 10 to 20 hours per week each, adjusted as ministry needs fluctuate throughout the year.

Pastoral Assistant Responsibilities

(Benton Rucker)
Under the direction of the Council of Shepherds, responsibilities will include:
Scheduling worship team members for each service
Communicating rehearsal times and weekly expectations
Preparing worship materials for rehearsals and services
Serving on the worship team as needed
Assisting with onboarding and basic training of worship volunteers
Helping ensure each service is prepared and organized
Other duties as needed

(Alec Lockhart)
Under the direction of the Council of Shepherds, responsibilities will include:
Assisting with sound, media, and livestream coordination
Entering lyrics, Scripture, and service elements into presentation software
Scheduling technical volunteers for each service
Supporting and organizing technical team members
Coordinating Wednesday night junior high ministry
Other duties as needed

Shepherd Oversight and Leadership Responsibilities

With the Worship Director position no longer in place, the Council of Shepherds will provide direct leadership and oversight for worship and technical ministries, including:

Spiritual care and discipleship for ministry volunteers
Guiding worship philosophy, song selection, and service flow
Recruiting and developing volunteers and future leaders
Ensuring theological clarity and Christ-centered worship
Evaluating ministry health and supporting both Pastoral Assistants

Benefits of This Approach

Provides stability following staff transition
Strengthens weekly organization and preparation
Maintains pastoral leadership over worship ministry
Uses existing budgeted funds responsibly
Supports leadership development
Allows flexibility for future staffing needs

Conclusion
In response to the resignation of the Worship Director, the Council of Shepherds is recommending a staffing structure that strengthens ministry operations while remaining financially responsible.

By promoting Benton Rucker and Alec Lockhart to Pastoral Assistant roles and reallocating existing budgeted funds, First Baptist Church Kenova can continue to provide Christ-centered, well-organized worship gatherings, support youth ministry, and invest in future leaders without increasing the church budget.

This plan offers clarity, continuity, and wise stewardship as the church moves forward.
In accordance with Article XVI, Section 4 of the Constitution of First Baptist Church of Kenova, a Special Business Meeting has been called upon the recommendation of the Council of Shepherds, the Nominating Committee, and the Budget & Finance Committee

Date: February 22, 2026
Time: at the conclusion of the 9am and 11:15am worship gatherings

Purpose of the Meeting
The following items will be considered:
1. Budget Amendment – Pastoral Assistants
The church will consider a proposal to combine the current 2026 budget lines for:
Ministry Interns
Worship Director
These two lines currently total $61,490, including employer payroll expenses such as FICA.
The proposal would establish two new budget lines for Pastoral Assistants, who will assume the ministry responsibilities previously overseen by the Worship Director following his resignation.
Each position would be compensated at $23 per hour, not to exceed 25 hours per week. The total annual allocation for both positions would be $64,376, including employer payroll expenses.
This represents an annual increase of $2,886, which would raise the overall 2026 budget bottom line accordingly.

2. Affirmation of Deaconess
To consider and vote on the affirmation of Teri Hunt to serve as Deaconess for a three-year term (2026–2028).

As required by our Constitution, this notice is being published and announced at all services at least one full week in advance, and no other business will be considered at this Special Business Meeting. All active members are encouraged to attend.