This Sunday, we dug into 1 Thessalonians 5:12–28. Paul wasn’t writing to pastors to tell them to toughen up. He was writing to the church to remind believers how to live together well.
Here’s the deal: God’s will for us isn’t complicated. It’s radical in its simplicity:
Honor those who lead you.
Encourage each other.
Live at peace.
Be patient.
Pray without ceasing.
That’s it. Nothing flashy. Nothing Instagram-worthy. Just daily, gritty, relational obedience.
Think about it. Honoring leaders isn’t just nodding smiling in a pew on Sunday. It’s supporting them, speaking well of them, and helping shoulder the weight of ministry.
Honoring one another isn’t just being polite. It’s listening, forgiving, serving, and speaking truth even when it’s hard or inconvenient.
Paul ends the letter reminding us: “May the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Thessalonians 5:23, ESV)
Notice that “blameless” life he describes isn’t solo work. It’s built in community with leaders guiding, and with each of us doing our part to honor one another.
So here’s this week’s takeaway: Your faith doesn’t grow in isolation.
Faith grows in the way you treat people around you especially those who are leading. And that’s not optional. It’s the will of God in Christ for you.
We all want something solid to stand on. Something that won’t shift when life shakes. Most of us know the feeling of watching the ground give way from health scares to job loss, from betrayal to grief. The question underneath all of it is this: Will I be okay when everything around me is not?
That’s the heartbeat of 1 Thessalonians 3. Paul isn’t writing theory. He’s writing with tears in his eyes, worrying about his friends, longing for them to be strong in the middle of the storm. And his answer is simple: God Himself will establish you.
Here are five things I learned from studying 1 Thessalonians 3:
1. God Sends People to Strengthen Us (vv. 1-2)
Paul can’t take the not-knowing anymore, so he sends Timothy. Not because Timothy is a superstar, but because he’s family in Christ and faithful in the gospel.
Timothy’s job is twofold:
To establish – to set their faith on a firm foundation.
To exhort – to come alongside and encourage them.
That word “come alongside” matters. Timothy isn’t shouting from a stage. He’s walking shoulder-to-shoulder, reminding them of what’s true. That’s how God works, through people He sends into your life to hold you steady.
Who has God sent to come alongside you when things weren’t going great?
2. Trouble Doesn’t Mean You’re Abandoned (vv. 3-5)
Paul says it bluntly: “You yourselves know that we are destined for this.” This, by the way, is affliction – suffering – yuck of life stuff! Suffering isn’t proof that God has walked away. It’s part of the Christian life.
But suffering is dangerous because it tempts us to believe lies. Lies that say God doesn’t care. Lies that say faith is pointless. Lies that say it’s easier to walk away. Paul fears the enemy will lure them off the foundation. That’s why Timothy’s presence is so crucial.
Bottom line: hardship isn’t the exception. It’s the expectation. But it’s not the end of the story.
3. Faith and Love Breathe Life (vv. 6-8)
Timothy comes back with good news: their faith is alive, their love is real, and they remember Paul kindly.
Paul’s reaction? “For now we live, if you are standing fast in the Lord.”
That’s wild. Paul ties his own sense of life to their perseverance. In other words your faith doesn’t just matter to you. It matters to the people around you. When you stand firm, others breathe easier. When you hold on, others find hope.
Who is your faith giving life to?
4. Faith Still Needs Mending (vv. 9-10)
Paul’s grateful, but he’s also honest: their faith still has gaps. He prays he can see them again and “supply what is lacking.”
Faith is like a fishing net. It needs constant mending. It’s not about shame or failure. It’s about being equipped, repaired, and made whole so it can hold when the pressure comes. None of us are finished products. So never stop learning and growing.
5. God Finishes What He Starts (vv. 11-13)
The chapter ends with Paul’s prayer:
God directs our steps.
God makes love overflow.
God establishes our hearts so we’re blameless when Christ returns.
Notice who does the heavy lifting: God! Paul and Timothy play their part, but God is the one who holds people steady.
That’s the anchor. Your grip may slip, but His won’t.
The Ever Famous So What!
You’re not alone. God sends people into your life to come alongside you. Don’t brush them off. They’re His gift.
Suffering doesn’t mean you’re forgotten. It’s part of the story, but not the end.
Your faith strengthens others. You may not realize it, but when you stand, you give someone else life.
God’s the one who establishes you. Your hope isn’t in your ability to hang on to God. It’s in His promise to hold you.
The Bottom Line
Storms will come. Lies will scream at you. Faith will feel fragile. But here’s the good news: Christ establishes you. He supplies what you lack. And He will hold you all the way to the end.
So stand firm. And when you can’t, look for the Timothys God has sent to come alongside you.
If you’ve turned on the news lately, you know the world feels loud and chaotic. Anger and division dominate headlines. Violence seems to hit closer and closer to home. Families are busy and stretched thin. Neighbors live side-by-side but hardly know one another.
In the middle of all that noise, people are searching for hope. Real hope. Not just another opinion, distraction, or temporary fix.
That’s why I love Paul’s words in 1 Thessalonians 1:1–10. He celebrates a small church in a chaotic city whose faith echoed with hope across the entire region.
“We give thanks… remembering your work of faith, your labor of love, and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.” (v. 2-3)
The Thessalonians lived in a world full of political pressure, idol worship, and cultural division. But instead of blending in, their lives became an echo of hope. Why? Because they had anchored their lives in Jesus Christ risen from the dead, reigning now, and coming again.
That’s the heartbeat of the Bible’s story:
Abraham left home because of God’s promise.
Moses endured Pharaoh by clinging to God’s reward.
David sang of seeing God’s goodness even in the land of the living.
The prophets pointed forward to the Messiah who would set all things right.
And when Jesus came, hope took on flesh. His death looked like the end, but His resurrection proved hope is stronger than death. That same hope fueled the apostles through persecution and the Thessalonians through hardship.
And it’s the same hope we need today.
We do the exact same thing today. We put our trust in so many temporary things:
Hoping our team can bring joy on Saturdays or Sundays.
Hoping the housing market will finally settle down.
Hoping politics or new policies will finally fix what’s broken.
But all those hopes can disappoint. What we need is a hope that doesn’t crumble when the world shakes. A hope that holds steady in the chaos. And that hope is already here: Jesus Christ, crucified, risen, and returning.
At Living Word Galena, this is the echo we want ringing out in our neighborhoods:
Faith that trusts Jesus visibly in daily life.
Love that shows up in sacrificial action.
Hope that endures when everything else feels uncertain.
Because when our hope is in Christ, people notice. The gospel doesn’t just go in. It rings out.
So here’s the question for you this week: What’s echoing from your life? Fear, stress, and frustration? Or the steady hope of Jesus?
Our neighborhoods don’t need more noise. They need the echo of hope. And that’s exactly what God has already given us in His Son.
Yesterday at Living Word we opened our new series Washed, and we started with a simple but courageous truth: Baptism is not about what we do for God. It’s about what God does for us.
That’s bold, and it cuts against the grain of how we usually think. We live in a world that says “prove yourself, earn it, make it happen.” But Baptism tells a different story. Baptism says, “You are not defined by what you do, you are defined by what Jesus has done for you.”
God does the washing
Think about the priests in the book of Leviticus. Before they could walk into the temple and stand before a holy God, they had to wash. It wasn’t optional. It wasn’t about scrubbing dirt , it was about being made holy.
Fast forward to Jesus. He calls Himself the new Temple (John 2:19–21). Paul later reminds us that we are now temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:19). Here’s the question: how does God make us holy temples? The answer is Baptism. In those waters, God Himself does the washing.
Baptism unites us with Jesus
Paul says in Romans 6:4: “We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.”
That means when you were baptized, your old self was drowned. Your guilt, your shame, your sin all nailed to the cross and buried in the tomb. And when Jesus walked out of the grave, He pulled you up with Him. You’re not just forgiven. You are alive.
Baptism gives you a family
Here’s the part I love most. Baptism doesn’t just give you a new identity, it gives you a new family. The Church isn’t a group of strangers who happen to sit in the same building on Sunday. It’s a family of people marked by the same promise: “You are mine. I have called you by name. You are washed clean.”
At Living Word, this is why we cheer, clap, and celebrate every Baptism. Because it’s not just their story. It’s a reminder of our story too.
Carry this truth with you
This week, I want you to hold onto one simple line:
Baptism is not just water. It’s water connected to God’s Word that makes us new.
When you feel unworthy, remember: you’ve been washed. When shame creeps in, remember: you’ve been claimed. When you wonder if you belong, remember: you’ve been given a family.
That’s why Baptism matters. And that’s why we’ll keep returning to the water again and again not because we need to be re-baptized, but because we need to be re-anchored in the promise of what God has already done for us in Jesus.
Let’s get one thing straight: Life doesn’t just work better with Jesus, without Him, there is no life at all. This week in our “Rooted and Ready” series, we hit one of the most honest, humbling, and hope-filled passages in the Bible. Ephesians 2 doesn’t sugarcoat anything. Paul starts with a punch:
“And you were dead in the trespasses and sins…” (Ephesians 2:1)
Dead. Not hurting. Not confused. Not limping. Spiritually DEAD.
That’s the state we were all in, walking corpses, following the world’s chaos, giving in to the devil’s whispers, driven by our inner selfish cravings. We weren’t “mostly good” with some bad behavior. We were rotten. Like that forgotten takeout container in the back of your fridge, sealed up and festering, and when you finally crack it open… the stench hits you. That’s not something you clean up. That’s something you throw out.
Paul says that was us. Pretty on the outside, moldy and dead on the inside. “Children of wrath,” he says. Not misguided. Not slightly off track. Under judgment. That’s a bold, painful truth, but we need to hear it. Because only when we understand how far gone we were can we fully grasp what God has done.
Then come the best two words in the whole Bible:
“But God…” “…being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us… made us alive together with Christ…” (vv. 4–5)
But God. Not but you prayed harder. Not but you finally cleaned up your act. No. You were dead. But God acted. But God moved. But God resurrected.
Because of His mercy. Because of His love. Because of His grace.
You see, life works best with Jesus because life without Him isn’t life at all, it’s death. But Jesus didn’t wait for you to get your life together. He came to you when you were a spiritual corpse, and by grace, He made you alive.
This is more than inspiration. It’s resurrection.
And now? You’ve been raised. You’ve been seated with Christ in the heavenly places. You’ve been saved by grace through faith, not by your doing, but by His gift.
You are now God’s workmanship. Not a project to be ashamed of, but a masterpiece with purpose, created in Christ Jesus for good works He’s already prepared for you to walk in.
So here’s the invitation today: Stop trying to look alive on your own. Stop pretending that sin is just a bad habit. Own the truth. You were dead. But God rich in mercy made you alive.
So now? Live like it. Walk in the works He’s prepared. Stay rooted in His Word. Be ready for what’s next.
Because life doesn’t just work better with Jesus—it only works with Him.
There’s a prayer in Ephesians that punches through the noise of our weary, distracted lives. Paul writes to believers—people already following Jesus—and he doesn’t pray for their circumstances to change. He doesn’t ask for them to be more successful, less anxious, or more comfortable. He prays they see. That the eyes of their hearts would be opened to what they already have in Jesus.
Let’s not miss that. This is a prayer for Christians. Not that they would get something new, but that they’d finally realize what’s been right in front of them the whole time.
Hope. Worth. Power.
Let’s start with hope—not the vague, wishy-washy kind the world offers. This is hope that is anchored in Jesus. Paul says we’ve been “called” to it. And when Jesus calls something into being, it happens. This hope isn’t fragile. It’s not on backorder. It’s a done deal—certain, real, and alive. You don’t have to wonder if God will come through. The cross and the empty tomb already proved He has. Your hope isn’t hanging by a thread; it’s standing in front of you with nail-scarred hands.
Then Paul prays we’d see the “riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints.” That’s not just future language—some pie-in-the-sky promise. That’s worth. Right now. God has already placed infinite value on you. Not because of what you’ve achieved or how holy you act, but because Jesus chose you, adopted you, and calls you family. You’re not a spiritual orphan trying to earn your place. You’re a loved, named, claimed child of God. That’s your worth. And no failure, label, or lie can undo that.
And finally—power. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead now lives in you. That’s not metaphor. That’s resurrection reality. This is not about mustering up your own strength. This is about tapping into the power source that conquered sin, death, and hell. Paul stacks up words for it: immeasurable greatness… according to the working of his great might… that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead. That’s a power no enemy can touch. And it’s yours. Today.
We live like we’re powerless. We walk around as if we’re barely scraping by spiritually. We forget the very Spirit who raised Jesus lives inside us. Paul’s prayer is that we wake up to that power—that we stop living like victims and start standing in victory.
So let me ask you: Do you see the hope that’s already yours? Do you know your worth in Jesus is already settled? Are you walking in the resurrection power you already possess?
You don’t have to beg God for more. You don’t need to prove yourself. You just need eyes to see what’s already true.
Open your Bible. Read Ephesians 1:15–23 again. Then pray this: Lord, open the eyes of my heart. Let me see the hope, the worth, and the power that are already mine in Jesus. Amen.
“Prayer flows naturally from a heart of humility and faith—it’s the honest recognition that we can’t do it on our own and the confident trust that God is ready and willing to help.”
Let’s talk about something we don’t often admit out loud in church: A lot of us struggle to pray.
We say things like, “I know I should pray more,” or “Life’s been so busy I just haven’t had time even to pray.” But underneath the excuses is a deeper issue. A spiritual one. One we don’t always see or name:
Prayerlessness isn’t just a discipline problem—it’s a gospel problem.
In Luke 11, Jesus’ disciples came to Him with a request: “Lord, teach us to pray.” That request tells us something about prayer – it isn’t automatic. Even for people who followed Jesus every day, they had to learn how to do it.
And so do we.
Let’s be real with ourselves for a moment. Most of us don’t stop praying because we don’t care. We stop praying because we forget who God really is. And we forget who we really are.
The Real Reason We Don’t Pray
Let’s be honest: If we truly believed we were helpless without God—and if we really trusted that God was eager to help—we wouldn’t hesitate to pray.
We’d run to Him. All the time. But we don’t.
We try to carry it all ourselves. We worry. We stress. We plot and plan and problem-solve… and somewhere along the way, we forget to pray.
Here’s the truth:
Prayerlessness is not about God being distant. It’s about us misunderstanding the gospel.
The gospel tells us two things:
We are desperately in need. (John 15:5 – “Apart from Me, you can do nothing.”)
God is more willing to help than we are willing to ask. (Romans 8:32)
If you’ve drifted from prayer, it’s not because God has changed—it’s because something in your heart has. But the good news? Jesus gives us a way back.
Let’s walk through the prayer He taught His disciples—not as a script to recite, but as a framework for a deep, honest, vibrant prayer life.
“Father, hallowed be your name.”
In Luke 11, Jesus starts where we should start: with relationship.
We don’t pray to a distant force or man behind a curtain. We’re not sending words into the void. We’re coming to our Father—a perfect, holy, personal God who wants to be known.
You are not a stranger in the throne room. You’re a child coming home.
Romans 8:15 says we’ve received the Spirit of adoption, and we cry out, “Abba, Father.” That’s intimate. That’s the language of love.
But He’s not just Father. He’s holy. Set apart. Worthy of worship. And before we ask for anything, Jesus teaches us to remember who God is and why His name matters.
Try this: Before you bring your needs to God, stop and worship Him. Speak His names: Provider. Shepherd. Healer. Savior. King. Worship shifts the focus from your problems to His power.
“Your kingdom come.”
This is a dangerous prayer. It means surrender.
It means laying down our agendas and picking up His.
“Your kingdom come” is not asking God to bless what we’re already doing. It’s asking Him to interrupt our plans with His greater purpose.
This is about living under God’s reign, not just believing in His existence.
Matthew 6:33 says, “Seek first the kingdom of God…” Not second. Not when it’s convenient. First.
Try this: Ask God where His kingdom needs to come more fully in your life—in your family, in your decisions, in your heart. And then… be ready to obey.
“Give us each day our daily bread.”
This might sound like the least spiritual part of the prayer, but it’s deeply holy. Because it’s about dependence.
We live in a culture that idolizes self-sufficiency. We’re told to hustle, grind, plan, and build a life where we don’t need anyone.
And then Jesus teaches us to pray:
“Father, I need You today.”
This echoes back to the wilderness, when God gave Israel manna—just enough for each day. If they tried to hoard it, it went bad. Why? Because God was teaching them to trust. And this prayer is all about us trusting God with even the smallest piece of our day, something like a cracker!
Try this: Each morning, ask God:
“What do I need today?”
“Where am I weak?”
“What am I trying to carry alone?”
And then release it to Him. Trust Him to provide enough grace for today.
“Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us.”
Prayer isn’t just about changing our circumstances—it’s about healing our relationships.
This part of the prayer reminds us that we’re still in need of grace. And that God’s grace isn’t meant to stop with us—it’s meant to flow through us.
Did you see what Jesus said there? For we also forgive everyone who sins against us. But do we? Do we really forgive everyone? That’s what this part of the prayer is saying. Forgive us just like we have forgiven others.
The more we understand how deeply we’ve been forgiven, the more we become willing to forgive others.
1 John 1:9 promises that when we confess, God is faithful to forgive. But Jesus ties that forgiveness to our willingness to let go of bitterness toward others. That’s bold. That’s hard. But it’s necessary.
Try this: Ask God to search your heart.
Where do you need to confess?
Who are you holding a grudge against? Forgiveness isn’t forgetting. But it is releasing. And it will set your soul free.
“And lead us not into temptation.”
We all have weak spots. We all have patterns we fall into. And left on our own, we’ll keep walking straight into the same mess again and again.
This final petition is a cry for guidance and strength.
“God, I know I’m prone to wander. I know where I’m vulnerable. Please lead me away from the edge of my own struggles.”
1 Corinthians 10:13 promises that God always provides a way out of temptation. But we have to want it. We have to ask for it. He doesn’t prevent the temptation from happening. He doesn’t just zap us out of those moments. He provides a way out and then we have to use it to escape. If we find ourselves trapped in a temptation, it’s likely because we refused to follow God’s escape plan.
Try this: Be honest with God about your temptations. Name them. Ask for help before you fall. Invite the Holy Spirit to lead you toward holiness, not just rescue you from regret.
The Real Reward of Prayer
After teaching this prayer, Jesus tells a story about persistence. He says to ask, seek, knock—because your Father is listening.
And then He ends with this promise:
“If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?” (Luke 11:13)
Did you catch that?
The greatest gift God gives in prayer… is Himself. Not just provision. Not just protection. His presence.
So What Now?
If prayerlessness has crept into your life, don’t just promise to try harder. Let the gospel reshape your view of God.
You are more in need than you realize.
God is more ready to help than you imagine.
Prayer is not a burden. It’s a lifeline.
So start small. Start where Jesus started. Let the Lord’s Prayer be more than words—let it be the heartbeat of your spiritual life.
Want to take this deeper?
Try one of these:
Pray the Lord’s Prayer slowly every morning this week. Pause after each line. Let it guide your conversation with God.
Write the Lord’s Prayer in your words. What would it sound like if you said it from your life?
Pair up with someone to pray together once a week. Prayer doesn’t grow well in isolation. It flourishes in community.
Let’s not settle for a life where we say we believe in God but live like we don’t need Him. Let’s become people of prayer—not out of guilt, but because we’ve rediscovered how good our Father really is.
Jesus does not want to be first in your life. That might sound shocking, but it’s the truth. Jesus doesn’t ask for first place—He demands the only place. Why? Because He’s not interested in being a slice of your life’s pie chart. He’s not satisfied with being another line item on your endless to-do list. He’s not here to share space with your career, hobbies, relationships, or even your family.
The first commandment makes it painfully clear: “You shall have no other gods before me.” (Exodus 20:3)
The Hebrew here is intense. “Before me” literally means “in My face.” God’s saying, “Don’t you dare put anything in My face that tries to compete with Me.” He’s not interested in your priorities; He’s claiming everything.
Here’s the harsh reality: we’ve turned our lives into idol factories. We’re constantly elevating good things—family, work, fitness, finances—into god things. And we love to rank them:
God
Family
Career
Hobbies
That’s a nice, neat little list isn’t it? It feels spiritual. It feels balanced. But it’s a lie. If Jesus is just a “first among equals,” you’ve completely missed the point. He’s not “first.” He’s everything.
Let me say it another way: If Jesus isn’t your everything, He’s nothing. He doesn’t share the throne. He’s not a consultant for your life plan. He’s the King who demands full allegiance.
The Danger of “First”
When we say Jesus is “first,” what we really mean is, “I’ll give Him a little time, energy, and attention, but I’ve got other stuff to do.” We check the box by going to church, reading a quick devotional, or tossing a few bucks into the offering plate. Then we get back to building our own kingdoms.
But Jesus doesn’t want a piece of your life—He wants the whole thing. That’s why He said: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)
Deny yourself. Not rearrange your priorities. Not carve out a little Jesus time. Not give Him first dibs. Deny yourself. That means your dreams, your goals, your plans, and yes, even your family, take a back seat to Him.
“No Other Gods” Means NO Other Gods
If we’re being honest, we all have gods in our lives. Some are obvious, like money, success, or relationships. Others are sneakier, like control, comfort, or even religion and tradition. And every single one of them is a direct violation of this first commandment. God doesn’t want your idols managed—He wants them destroyed.
Jesus says it this way. “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other.” (Matthew 6:24)
There’s no middle ground. You can’t serve Jesus and your career. You can’t serve Jesus and your ego. You can’t serve Jesus and your comfort. You can’t serve Jesus and your tradition. It’s Him or nothing.
So what does it look like to live with Jesus as the only? It’s simple, but it’s not easy:
Surrender daily. Start each day by laying your plans, desires, and ambitions at His feet. One way to do this is through prayer. Just start your day with Lord today I need… Then fill in the blank and let God take it from there. Only caveat is that blank has to be something you cannot touch, so no Porsche or Lambo friends!
Hold everything loosely. Your family, career, possessions, and even traditions are gifts from God, not gods themselves. Treat them accordingly. When these things help you serve God, they are good things. When they distract you from God, they are god things.
Obey without excuses. Stop bargaining with Jesus. When He calls, answer. When He commands, act. No more excuses. It’s time for full on devotion.
Living this way will wreck your life—in the best way possible. It will strip away the false gods you’ve been clinging to and replace them with the only One worth worshiping.
Ok, so here’s the bottom line. Jesus doesn’t want to be first in your life. He wants to be the only. The first commandment isn’t a suggestion; it’s a declaration of war! War against every competing affection in your heart.
So stop ranking Him. Stop fitting Him into your schedule. Stop treating Him like a task to check off. Tear down the idols, clear the stage, and let Him reign as the one true King.
Because if Jesus isn’t the only, He isn’t anything.
Ok so hard truth we may not like to hear. Christians are really good at judging each other. I’m not talking about some polite “maybe you should rethink that” kind of critique. No, I’m talking about the deep-seated, “I’m holier than you” attitude that seeps into Christian relationships. That’s exactly what Paul was tackling in Romans 14:13-23, and let’s be real—it’s something we still wrestle with today.
The Judgement Trap
Paul opens this section with what some would call a mic drop: “Therefore, let us stop passing judgment on one another.” Bam! Paul doesn’t sugarcoat things at all does he. He knows that, left unchecked, we love to size up other people’s faith—what they eat, drink, or how they worship—and use that as a measuring stick for righteousness. Or perhaps a bludgeoning tool to beat our brother down. It’s like we’re always looking for an excuse to prove that we’re somehow “better” than the next believer.
But this attitude poisons our relationships. Paul tells us to knock it off. He flips the script and says, “Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother’s way.” (v. 13). In other words, stop acting like your version of Christianity is the only one, and focus on helping each other grow in Christ. Jesus is the only way to the Father, but you and I are not the only way to Jesus!
When Freedom Hurts
I love the idea of freedom. It just feels good when my freedom lines up with my lifestyle and passion. Who doesn’t love the idea of being free in Christ? But here’s the kicker—Paul says that sometimes your freedom can hurt someone else. In verse 15, he writes, “If your brother or sister is distressed because of what you eat, you are no longer acting in love.” What? So my personal freedom can be a stumbling block for someone else’s faith?
Yup. And that stings because we hate the idea of limiting ourselves for someone else. But Paul isn’t just talking about food either—he’s using it as a metaphor for any area of Christian freedom. Maybe you feel free to have a drink, but you’ve got a friend who’s been sober for years. Your freedom to crack open a cold one could cause them to stumble. Is your personal liberty worth the damage to someone else’s faith? Paul says no, and I sure hope we all feel the same way!
Unity
So, what’s the big idea here? Unity. Romans 14:19 lays it out: “Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification.” Translation? Quit fighting over the small stuff and start building each other up.
Paul isn’t saying that we should all agree on everything. There’s space for disagreement and diversity in the body of Christ. But he is saying that we should stop letting minor differences tear us apart. When you prioritize peace and edification—building each other up—you create healthy, strong relationships that actually reflect the love of Jesus. That’s what people outside the church need to see.
Look at 1 Corinthians 8:9 for another way of hearing this: “Be careful, however, that the exercise of your rights does not become a stumbling block to the weak.” It’s the same idea—your rights, while important, are secondary to the emotional and spiritual health of your brothers and sisters in Christ.
Love Not Legalism
Here’s where it gets fun. When you start living with this “building up” mentality, you’ll find that relationships within the church get a whole lot healthier. Instead of being caught up in judgment, you’re caught up in love. You’re not trying to out-Christian your neighbor; you’re trying to encourage them.
Paul encourages us in Romans 14:17 to focus on the important stuff: “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” The Christian life isn’t about following a rigid set of rules; it’s about living in joy, peace, and righteousness—and helping others do the same. When we embrace that, our relationships thrive.
Major in the Majors
At the end of the day, Paul’s message in Romans 14 is clear: stop nitpicking and start loving. Focus on what matters—righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. Keep the main thing the main thing. It’s ok to let the little differences slide. You’ll find that when you do, you’ll build deeper, healthier relationships.
So, next time you’re tempted to judge someone else for how they practice their faith, ask yourself this: Is my goal to help them grow closer to Jesus? If it’s not my goal, it’s time to take a step back, check our pride, and focus on what really matters—love, peace, and mutual growth.
And remember: “Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.” (Romans 15:7). That’s the heart of healthy Christian relationships.
Let’s talk veggies and bacon—two foods that couldn’t be more different. On one side, you’ve got your veggie lovers. They stick to the kale, spinach, and broccoli, probably starting their day with the one of those green smoothies, and wouldn’t dare put bacon anywhere near their salad. On the other hand, there are the bacon enthusiasts—crispy, salty, sizzling—who think bacon belongs on everything. And if there’s a vegetable involved, it’s only there to hold the bacon in place.
Now, believe it or not, this division isn’t just reserved for the dinner table—it’s a perfect setup for a conversation about living out our faith. And Paul, in Romans 14:1-12, does exactly that. He uses the example of food, specifically the tension between those who eat only vegetables and those who enjoy all foods, to make a larger point about the strength and weakness of faith. But before you think this is some kind of ancient argument between vegans and carnivores, let’s dive deeper into what Paul is really saying and how it can apply to our lives and the way we worship today.
The Backdrop
In Romans 14:2, Paul says, “One person’s faith allows them to eat anything, but another, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables.” There it is—Paul calls out the veggie eaters as “weaker.” But why? Is he picking on those with healthier diets? Not at all. This isn’t about what’s on the plate; it’s about what’s in the heart.
In the early church, especially among Jewish believers, food laws from the Old Testament were a big deal. Certain foods were clean, others unclean, and eating the wrong thing could make you unclean. Some early Christians, still tied to these food laws, stuck to vegetables to avoid breaking any rules. Others, like the Gentiles who had no such dietary restrictions, enjoyed a bacon-wrapped feast without a second thought. Paul is saying that those still bound by the old rules—those who can’t let go of the law’s limitations—are “weaker” in faith. Their faith is restricted by old regulations. But those who understand the freedom found in Christ, the freedom to enjoy all that God has made, are “stronger” in their faith.
We need to hit pause for a second when we talk about stronger and weaker. It’s not about duration in the church or how many Sundays a year one attends worship. This stronger and weaker imagery is about having a deficiency in our understanding of the gospel. Paul is saying that those who still think the rules and regs of the old covenant will save them or make them more acceptable have a deficiency in their understanding of what Jesus actually did. They’re missing the freedom that is found in the completed work of Christ.
From Food Laws to Worship Wars
Let’s move this conversation from the dinner table to the sanctuary. Just as there were food laws in the Old Testament that governed what was acceptable to eat, there are unwritten “worship laws” today that dictate what is considered “acceptable” worship.
Some people believe that worship has to look a certain way—maybe it’s only hymns sung from a hymnal, or perhaps it’s the opposite, with only contemporary praise songs led by a guitar. There’s often a feeling that if worship doesn’t follow these specific styles, then it’s somehow less spiritual or less God honoring. These preferences can be strong, but they’re preferences not prescriptions found in the Bible. In some churches, clapping during worship might feel like breaking the bacon rule, while in others, not raising your hands could feel like opting out of the vegetable aisle entirely.
But here’s the thing—just as Paul says that faith isn’t about sticking to old food laws, our relationship with Jesus isn’t dependent on one specific style of worship. Those who find themselves trapped in only one mode of worship, thinking it’s the only way to please God, might be what Paul would call “weaker.” Their faith is bound up in limitations and rules, much like the vegetable eaters of Romans 14.
But those who find freedom in Christ—the ones who understand that it’s not the style but the substance, or better yet the object of worship that matters— these are the ones Paul describes as stronger. They can worship through hymns, contemporary songs, or even in silence, knowing that the point is not about how worship looks but about whom it glorifies.
Paul’s message is clear: don’t judge those who differ in how they express their faith. “Who are you to judge someone else’s servant?” he asks in Romans 14:4. Whether you’re a veggie eater or a bacon lover, whether you prefer organ music or electric guitars, we all answer to the same Lord. And He is the master making us each His servant, not the servant of one another. The beautiful part about this passage is the reminder that God has accepted us, not because of what we eat, how we sing, or what rules we follow, but because of His grace.
In Romans 14:12, Paul brings it all home: “So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.” In other words, worry about your own faith journey, not someone else’s. Focus on your relationship with Christ, and let others do the same. If someone worships differently than you, that’s between them and God. There are multiple expressions of faith. The key is that these expressions need to be God-honoring, focus on the work of Father-Son-Holy Spirit in our lives, recognize the death and resurrection of Jesus as the only way to heaven.
Just like there’s room in the kingdom for both veggie lovers and bacon enthusiasts, there’s room for all kinds of worship styles. The strength of our faith isn’t measured by how rigidly we follow traditions or how modern we make things. It’s about understanding the freedom we have in Christ—a freedom that allows us to worship in a way that’s authentic to our hearts while extending grace to others who do it differently.
So next Sunday, whether your worship involves an old hymn or a new chorus, remember that it’s not the style that matters. What matters is that we’re worshiping Jesus—the only One who gives us the freedom to celebrate in a multitude of ways. And if you happen to enjoy a post-church brunch, feel free to add some bacon. Paul would approve.
