“And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’” Matthew 28:18–20 (ESV) 

Every Lord’s Day is joyful, but today we’ve been given a special joy as a church family. Just moments ago, we witnessed a young girl publicly confirm her faith and a young boy receive the covenant sign of baptism.

What we saw was not merely a touching family moment or a symbolic tradition. We were drawn into something sacred and ancient—something real. In those vows and in that water, we saw God Himself at work, sealing His promises and marking His people.

If you’re visiting today, especially if you’re here to support someone being baptized or confirmed, we’re so glad you’re here. You’ve just witnessed something that reaches the heart of the Christian faith: a visible sign of God's grace, rooted in thousands of years of covenant promises, fulfilled in Jesus Christ.

Now, having witnessed that grace, we turn to God's Word to ask a relevant question:

Why does this matter, not just for those two individuals, but for all of us? What does baptism mean in the life of a believer, in the life of the church, and in the story God is writing through history?

Baptism is not an option; it is a divine command. Jesus Himself, with all authority in heaven and on earth, gave us this mandate: “Go… baptizing them” (Matt. 28:19). To be baptized is to submit joyfully to the kingship of Christ. When we obey His command, we declare, with our bodies and with our hearts, “Jesus is Lord.” This is not the first time God has given a covenant sign. In the Old Testament, circumcision marked God's covenant people. And when Moses, God’s chosen deliverer, failed to circumcise his son, God’s wrath was kindled against him. 

It is a startling moment. Why would God nearly kill Moses, the very man He had just called to rescue Israel?

The answer is clear: God takes His covenant signs seriously. They are not optional customs; they are marks of belonging to Him. John Calvin rightly noted that “the neglect of a divine command, even by the best of men, is not a light matter.” To receive baptism in faith is not merely a personal choice—it is an act of reverence, declaring that we belong to the covenant Lord. Nothing pleases God more than obedience to His Word. In baptism, we do not elevate our own sincerity; we bow before His authority. Just as circumcision marked the people of Israel under the Old Covenant, so baptism is the covenant sign under the New. To delay or ignore baptism is not a neutral act—it is an active disobedience. To receive baptism publicly in faith is to bring honor to God and glory to His name.

What God commands, He also graciously gives. Baptism is not only a sign of obedience, but it is a sign and seal of the most precious reality in the Christian life: our union with Christ. 

Through baptism, we are visibly marked as those who have died with Christ and risen with Him. It is the outward seal of an inward reality—the Holy Spirit joining us to Christ's death and resurrection. As John Murray said, “Union with Christ is the central truth of the whole doctrine of salvation.” Imagine the gift: in baptism, God shows us that our sins are not merely forgiven—they are buried. And the life we now live is no longer our own, but Christ living in us.

Let us be clear: water does not save us. It is plenty symbolic, but it is not merely symbolic. Only Christ saves. But the sacraments are means of grace, instituted by Christ Himself to strengthen the faith of those who believe. 

They are visible signs of invisible grace—“gospel made tangible.” 

In baptism, we receive a divine marker upon our lives—a reminder that God has called us His own. It is the same with confirmation. As we affirm the covenant publicly, we are not improving upon our baptism, but responding in faith to what God began. The sacraments are not empty rituals. They are gifts from our Heavenly Father for our assurance, our comfort, and our perseverance. In a world that constantly whispers doubt and fear, baptism stands as a loud declaration: You belong to Christ. You are washed. You are not your own—you were bought with a price.

A young girl has confirmed her faith, and a young boy has been welcomed into the church through baptism. Christian baptism and confirmation are not empty religious rituals. They are the sign and seal of our union with the Eternal God in Christ Jesus! From Abraham to Moses, from John the Baptist to the risen Christ, and from Galilee to Bergen County, God has been blessing His people with covenant signs for thousands of years. And every sign—circumcision in the Old Covenant, baptism in the New—points us to Jesus Christ, the one in whom all promises find their yes and amen. And not only do these sacraments point us to Christ, they also point us to eternity.

Baptism is a moment when the eternal breaks into the present, when heaven testifies on earth that this child, this person, belongs to God forever. It is a seal of belonging, a signpost of grace, and a down payment of glory to come. 

So why should you be baptized? Because Almighty God commands it, and to obey Him is to honor His name. Because God’s command is a blessing, joining us mysteriously and truly to Jesus Christ. Because baptism strengthens assurance, reminding us visibly and tangibly that we are His. 

Let's pray.

"The Gospel According to The Chronicles"

1 Chronicles 1:1; 11:1–9; 2 Chronicles 36:22–23

Introduction
What is the Gospel according to the Chronicles? That’s not a question we often hear, because many believers overlook this part of Scripture. But Chronicles is not a mere historical appendix—it is a powerful retelling of Israel’s past that invites us to embrace our identity, our calling, and our future.

The Hebrew Bible, also known as the Tanakh, concludes with the book of Chronicles. It opens with Adam and ends with the decree of Cyrus: “Let him go up.” From creation to return, the Chronicler tells a gospel-shaped story—a story of God-made covenant, God-given identity, and God-driven hope. It reframes Israel’s past not to dwell on failure, but to restore purpose and invite renewed faithfulness.

So, what is the Gospel according to the Chronicles?

1. We Are God’s People
1 Chronicles 1:1
“Adam, Seth, Enosh, Kenan, Mahalalel, Jared, Enoch, Methuselah, Lamech, Noah.”

Chronicles begins with Adam, not Abraham or Moses. This matters. The Chronicler is showing the post-exilic community that their story stretches back to creation. They are not just a scattered remnant; they are part of the human story, the covenant story, God’s story.

This genealogy reminds the exiles—and us—that we belong to God. Our "failures" do not erase our identity. Even after exile, even after judgment, we are still His people.

As Paul writes in Romans 5, Adam was the head of the old humanity, but Christ is the head of the new. The gospel starts with a God who remembers His people and keeps His promises. We are not abandoned. We are His.

2. Who We Are Drives What We Do (Worship and Beyond)
1 Chronicles 11:1–9
“Then all Israel gathered together to David at Hebron and said, ‘Behold, we are your bone and flesh... And the Lord your God said to you, "You shall be shepherd of my people Israel, and you shall be prince over my people Israel.”’” (vv. 1–2)

Chronicles emphasizes David’s kingship not as a political triumph, but as a covenantal turning point. He is chosen by God, affirmed by the people, and centered not in power but in worship. David captures Jerusalem and makes it the dwelling place of God’s ark—the center of worship.

Verse 9 says, “And David became greater and greater, for the Lord of hosts was with him.” The Chronicler is showing us that it’s not about military genius—it’s about God’s presence.

Worship is not a side activity. It’s central to the identity and mission of God’s people. The temple is the anchor of national life—not the palace, not the army, but the place of prayer, praise, and sacrifice.

This principle remains true: who we are shapes what we do. And if we are God’s people, our lives must be oriented around Him. Worship is our identity and our calling.

3. We Are Not Done Yet
2 Chronicles 36:22–23
“Now in the first year of Cyrus king of Persia, that the word of the Lord by the mouth of Jeremiah might be fulfilled, the Lord stirred up the spirit of Cyrus king of Persia, so that he made a proclamation throughout all his kingdom and also put it in writing: ‘Thus says Cyrus king of Persia, "The Lord, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth, and he has charged me to build him a house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Whoever is among you of all his people, may the Lord his God be with him. Let him go up."’”

Chronicles ends not with a conclusion but with a commission. “Let him go up.” It’s an unfinished sentence, an open invitation. The exile was not the end. The temple would be rebuilt. Worship would be restored. God’s promises still stand.

The gospel according to the Chronicles says: God is not done with you. Your story is not over. There is more to come.

This is the story of grace. Though we fail, God restores. Though we stray, God invites us home. Though the temple was destroyed, God provides a new beginning.

Ultimately, this points to Christ. He is the greater David, the true temple, and the One who leads us in the final return—not just to a city, but to God Himself. As John 2:19 shows, Jesus is the new temple. In Him, we worship in Spirit and truth.

Conclusion
The Gospel according to the Chronicles is not merely history—it is resilient hope.
We are God’s people.
Our identity shapes our worship and work.
And our story is not finished.
The final line—“Let him go up”—is for every believer ready to rise from ruin, return to worship, and rebuild their life around God’s promises.

Let us go up—not to Jerusalem, but to Christ. Let us rebuild not with human strength, but in worship and covenant faithfulness. For our God is not finished yet.

Introduction: Philippians is A Transformational Pastoral Letter

The heartbeat of Philippians may be summed up in one verse: "For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Philippians 1:21).

Now, what does that mean?
What does "to live is Christ, and to die is gain" look like for us?


1. It Looks like a "Humble Confidence" in Christ
Paul says that whether by life or by death, he desires that Christ would be honored. Why? Because for him, "to live is Christ, and to die is gain." 

This is not just poetry. It is the spiritual clarity of a man who has found the "pearl" of great price. He says in 4:13, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me." What does he mean by that?

Paul realizes what every Christian eventually comes to realize--in Christ, all things consist. Colossians 1:15-17 says:

We live in a world driven by "self"-preservation, and many people foolishly think that you have to focus on yourself in order to preserve yourself. The Gospel says the opposite. That is why the Gospel is "foolishness."

1 Corinthians 1:18 says, "For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God."

Who can make a profession like that? We can!

This confidence is not arrogance. It is the clarity that we are much worse than we are willing to admit, but we are much more loved than we ever dared to hope for.

2. It Looks Like a Joyful Partnership in the Gospel
From the beginning to the end, Philippians pulses with the theme of partnership. Philippians is not only a letter of joy, but it is also a letter of deep affection. Paul thanks God for the Philippians' fellowship in the gospel with him from the beginning to the very end.

He also pleads with them to be of the same mind. He commends their giving as fruit that increases to their credit. It's rather long, but it warrants being read again in full:

The Greek word ekenōsen (ἐκένωσεν) means to empty or pour out. But as Sinclair Ferguson notes, Christ’s 'kenosis' was not about losing divine status, but about laying aside divine privileges to serve in humility. John Calvin echoes this when he writes, “Christ, indeed, could not divest himself of Godhead, but he kept it concealed for a time, that it might not be seen.”

A gospel-shaped life is not some "private," "personal" Christianity. It is lived in a community, for we are the body of Christ.
Paul calls us to lay down our pride, our preferences, and to pursue unity in love, because Jesus laid down His life to make us one.

3. It looks like "All In."

Also, Paul is not a man resting on his past or clinging to the present.

3:12-14 says:

Oh, I don't know how many people merely use the name of Jesus to get what they want. For them, Jesus is just a means to an end. They do not love the name of Jesus; they love to get things by using the name of Jesus. That's not Christianity. That's Consumerism wrapped up with the Christian religion. Those who will not repent of this will wake up to a rude awakening on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Despair not, my friends. God is not done with you. He is up to something, and He is up to something good.

Conclusion: Christian Walk is Humble-Confidence, Joyful-Partnership, compelling us to go "All In."

And God, who began this good work in us, will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ (Philippians 1:6).

Let us walk in this way together—with joy that cannot be chained, and a life that declares in every season, "To live is Christ."

Small Group Guide
Restore Your Life with the Word
Psalm 119:1–16

Opening Reflection
“In him all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:17)
Begin by sitting quietly for one minute. What part of your life feels like it’s not “held together” right now?

Five Questions for Conversation & Transformation

1. What does "order" mean to you?
In your experience, how have you tried to bring order into your life? What worked, and what didn’t?
Where does God’s Word fit—or not fit—into that pursuit?

2. Psalm 119 is structured from Aleph to Tav, like our A to Z.
What might it look like for your whole life—not just your spiritual life—to be shaped “from A to Z” by God’s Word?
Is there an area that still feels “off-limits” or unstructured?

3. The psalmist is brutally honest: “Oh that my ways were steadfast…”
What would it take for you to be that honest with God and others?
How does weakness become a doorway to deeper grace?

4. “I delight in your statutes as much as in all riches.”
What do you most treasure—and how do you know?
What habits or voices tend to shape your joy or direction more than Scripture?

5. The psalmist isn’t just obeying—he’s loving the Word.
What would it look like for you to fall in love with God's Word again—not out of duty but desire?
What one shift could help rekindle that joy this week?