Ezekiel 20:10–26 is a sobering reminder that deliverance from Egypt, it was not the end of Israel’s story, rather it was the beginning of God’s call to holiness. Instead of walking in His statutes, Israel tested His patience again and again. God gave them His Sabbaths as a sign of rest and belonging, but they were restless to rebel against God. And when people persistently reject God, He sometimes gives them over to their own ways, letting them taste the bitterness of sin.

This passage reminds me that being redeemed is not just about being set free—it’s about being set apart. In the end, God clearly proclaims that He is the sovereign Lord. It is His faithfulness, mercy, and patience that carry His people to the end—not for Israel’s glory, but for His.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. How do you see the difference between being freed from sin and actually walking in obedience to God?

3. What does it mean when we say - God is sovereign?

Ezekiel 20:1–9 shows that God is not deceived by appearances. So many people think they can make it up to the Lord with religious actions and outward performance. I used to think that way too. But do we really want to be judged by how well we perform or how many religious deeds we produce? If that were the standard, every single one of us would be nailed to the cross. I am thankful that our standing before God is not based on our works, but on the grace of Jesus. Some may say that is not fair—but if God were to be fair, no one would escape condemnation. Grace, and grace alone, is the only foundation of our salvation.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. Why do you think people are often tempted to rely on outward religious performance instead of true repentance and faith?

3. How does it change your perspective to realize that if God judged us by fairness and works, no one would escape condemnation?

God confronts a popular but false belief in Israel—that people suffer primarily because of their ancestors’ sins. God directly rejects this. Every soul belongs to Him, and each person will be judged by their own actions through a personal relationship with Him.
I cannot hide my sins from the Lord—every sin will be counted. Righteousness is not inherited or rightfully deserved, but it is counted and measured. We are called to be faithful in that righteous relationship. It is ironic how this both humbles and frees me. If I walk 100 miles, I will be off 100 miles from the Lord. Through this righteous relationship, God guides me. Though the road may not be pleasant—through sins and guilt—at least I can walk toward life. And Jesus walks with me from the start to the end.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. What does it mean for you personally that every sin will be counted before the Lord?

3. How does the truth that Jesus walks with you “from start to the end” shape your daily choices?

This passage shows me that breaking faith with God is covenant betrayal. Zedekiah thought he was simply shifting alliances from Babylon to Egypt, but in reality, he was despising the oath he had made before God. He sought security and rest through political shifts, but wars and battles are won by God.
My faithfulness is so fragile, but God’s covenant faithfulness is unshakable. If my hope rests in political strength, human promises, or my own ability to hold on, I will fail.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. Where are you most tempted to place your trust—God’s covenant faithfulness or human strategies?

3. How does knowing that wars and victories belong to God change the way you face challenges?

Each figure represents kings and nations, such as the first great eagle as Nebuchadnezzar, the planted seed as Zedekiah, and the second great eagle as Egypt. Long story short, it is a parable of God's judgment on Judah's unfaithfulness.
If I cannot be happy where God has placed me, where will I find joy? Many times, I become complacent. If I cannot enjoy my current situation in my current place, I will not be joyful in the next stage—for joy is found in the Lord.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. When have you been tempted to look for security or joy somewhere other than where God has placed you?

3. How can you cultivate contentment and joy in God’s presence in your current season?

After chapter upon chapter of judgment, God promises to restore even Sodom, Samaria, and Jerusalem—not because they deserve it, but so that shame would turn into humility, and pride would be silenced.

I see myself here: guilty, covenant-breaking, without a single claim on God’s kindness—yet He remembers His covenant and atones for all my sin.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. How does it change your understanding of grace to see God promise restoration to those He just condemned so severely?

3. When have you experienced God using restoration to humble you rather than to elevate you?

God compares His people to a vine—not one full of fruit, but dry wood, useless even for small tools. If it bears no fruit, what’s left but to be thrown into the fire? I’m reminded that being “chosen” does not mean being entitled. It means being set apart for a purpose. Israel forgot that. They wanted the name without the obedience. They had the temple, the traditions, the identity—but no faithfulness. And so they were cast into the fire.

I think about my own life—how easy it is to look like a vine but bear no fruit. I hope and pray that my heart will be full of love for God, and that I will never let go of the One who called me.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. What kind of “fruit” do you believe God desires to see in your life right now?

3. How can you guard your heart from growing dry or detached from God?

Ezekiel 14:12–23 reminds me that righteousness cannot be borrowed. Noah, Daniel, and Job—three who were indeed righteous—could not deliver salvation to all. God is holy, and judgment and righteousness are personal. Knowing and relying on the righteous God is the righteousness of a man, and based on that personal relationship, judgment falls. It is sobering to see that judgment does not fall randomly, but it is measured, deliberate, deserved, and personal.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. What does it look like to pursue a personal, living relationship with God in the midst of a faithless culture?

3. How does it change your view of God to know that His judgment is not random, but deliberate and just?

Ezekiel 14:1–11 reminds me that God sees through our hearts. The elders came to Ezekiel as if they wanted to hear from the Lord, but God saw their idols hidden deep inside their hearts. It is terrifying, and it should be terrifying. I can preach, pray, and lead, but God sees all my pride and sins. Doing visible things is easy—what is really hard is actually living a righteous life. God is slow to anger; it is to bring us back and to be patient with us. I ask the Lord to search me, tear down the idols, and bring me back to the fear and joy of knowing Him as my God.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. Have you ever experienced the conviction that you were seeking God outwardly, but inwardly holding on to something else?

3. What would genuine repentance look like if God revealed hidden idols in your heart today?

Ezekiel 13:17–23 is God’s judgment on those who use His name to manipulate, control, and profit from His people. What strikes me is how God Himself promises to tear off the snares, free the captives, and end the lies. Can you imagine if God did not punish the unjust? There is hope here—God does not abandon His people to false shepherds.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. How can we discern the Word of God without running to prophecy?

3. How can we recognize when someone is offering “false assurance” that discourages the righteous?

Ezekiel 13:1–16 is God’s direct judgment against the false prophets in Israel. As we talked about prophecy and judgment last Sunday, there is judgment on the people of Israel who do not speak of the Lord and misinterpret the Lord. For a long time I wondered why it is a big deal. Peace and comfort only come from the Lord. No distorted truth, no misinterpreted prophecy, no misrepresented glory will ever bring peace and comfort.

What this “false assurance” leaves in people is complacency and pride. Elders who are not accountable speak the law of death—not just a little off from the path of eternal life, but in the opposite direction entirely. A preacher should fear and tremble, lest God strike him on the pulpit. The preacher walks toward the pulpit as if he were a cow about to be slaughtered. We speak and listen to the Word of God by the grace of God. There is an infinite gap between God and man—a vast distance marked by reverence and awe—but the grace of God bridges that gap, bringing us into His presence.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. When you hear a message about peace or comfort, how do you discern whether it comes from God or from human imagination?

3. How should the reality of God’s holiness and the infinite gap between Him and us affect the way we listen to and respond to His Word?

Pelatiah drops dead and the glory of God departs the city—God still speaks hope. Ezekiel falls on his face, afraid that this is the end of Israel. But God replies with a promise: “I will be a sanctuary to them in the countries where they have gone.” That line stays with me. The temple is gone. The land is lost. But God says, “I am still with you.”
It humbles me because I realize how often I assume God's presence depends on external situation.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. Where have you been tempted to think God’s presence depends on external circumstances—rather than His promise?

3. What does it mean for you personally to receive a new heart from God, and not just improvement or behavior change?

Ezekiel 11:1-12 warns us: it’s possible to look secure, sound religious, and lead confidently, yet be utterly opposed to God’s will. The leaders Ezekiel confronts were powerful, respected, and self-assured—but their confidence was misplaced, rooted not in repentance but in tradition and pride. God speaks through Ezekiel to break the illusion: “You are not safe. You are not the protected ones. You are the judged.” This should drive us to examine where we place our hope.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. Have you ever ignored or resisted a hard truth from God because other voices gave you comfort or false hope?

3. Are you confident that you will not be judged?

The glory departs, but not without witness—Ezekiel sees it, so he can tell the exiles: “God has left the temple. You must repent.” Every prophecy needs witnesses and people who will live to verify it. This is a devastating prophecy. The temple—the very center of the people’s identity, where God dwelt, where sacrifices were offered, and sins were taken away—is now empty. Not because Babylon is stronger, but because Israel has turned its back on God. We often assume God’s presence will always remain—but Ezekiel shows us that God will not stay where He is rejected. This passage should stir fear, reverence, and hope, because even in judgment, God still speaks righteousness.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. When have you tried to maintain the appearance of godliness while ignoring the need for true repentance?

3. If only the grace of God can bridge the gap between His glory and our sin, what does daily repentance look like in light of that truth?

Ezekiel is often filled with solemn and terrifying scenes. It reminds me of the word “Hebel”—breath, vapor, spirit. We stretch out our hands to grasp it, but it slips through our desperate fingers. There are many things that escape from us: moments missed in the past, relationships, opportunities, or hopes and dreams fleeing from our reach. But nothing is more terrifying than trying to catch the fleeing glory of God. I often feel that on the pulpit. A human being can put on a mask, rehearse a speech, and spend hours refining a draft. But what about the presence of God?

Could the might of a capital church ever replace the glory of God that once hovered over a fading tabernacle? Can a mere man chase down fleeing mercy? What could possibly bridge the gap between God and man—the gap between the infinite and the finite? Only thing that can fill that infinite distance is the grace of God.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. Have you ever felt like the presence of God was slipping away, like breath through your fingers? What did that moment teach you?

3. What does it mean for you personally that only the grace of God can bridge the infinite distance between Him and us?

The true believers have always been few in number, weak in power, and outcast in society. How many will there truly be who are saved in the end? One of the most dominant religions in the world today is Christianity, but the Bible clearly speaks of a remnant. Cultural Christianity—by percentage and population—has been diminishing steadily since the 1900s across many nations, and projections show it will only worsen in the next 100 years. Many scholars and leaders give a hopeful anticipation: that Christians will fill the earth, ushering in a new age of light and influence. But both the Bible and the current trajectory suggest otherwise. Persecution will increase, faithful believers will be rejected, marginalized, and even removed. In the end, there will be few who truly endure and remain faithful. And so I ask myself: how can I be so sure that I will be one of them? This thought humbles me. So I plead for mercy from God who even preserves a remnant by grace alone.

1. What stands out to you from this passage or your favorite verse?

2. Do you think Christianity will increase or decrease in the next 100 years?

3. “So they began with the elders who were before the house.” Judgment begins at the temple—what would that mean?

What strikes me deeply is that this judgment is not abstract or impersonal. God says repeatedly: “Then you will know that I am the LORD.” It reminds me that even in judgment, God is revealing Himself—not just His power, but His holiness. It is deeply personal and humbling. He speaks, warns, and then acts. I certainly worry that whatever I have, whatever I have done, will not be enough when the day comes. There will be no excuse—only shame and guilt. And yet, there is grace that is greater than my sin, guilt, and shame.

Ezekiel 6:1–14 God's judgment falls where the covenant has been broken and worship has been corrupted. The mountains of Israel—once places where God met His people—have now become polluted by idolatry. The altars, pillars, and incense stands will be shattered; the bones of the people will lie scattered before their powerless idols. In the midst of wrath, God remembers mercy. The passage where I found the most hope is verses 13–14: “Then they will know that I am the Lord.” 1) I find immeasurable hope in acknowledging that salvation do not come from me, because if it did, I would always fall and fall short. 2) Looking around, there is no good in this world and in me. But God is in control, and His goodness overcomes. 3) I often do many things without remembering that God is in control. This truth completely reshapes what I do and how I do everything—as small as making tiny decisions throughout the day, and as big as making major decisions in life.

God’s judgment is not random—it is measured, righteous, and covenantal. The more grace a people receive, the more accountable they are. And yet, even in wrath, there is a hint of mercy—a few hairs tucked into the prophet’s robe.

Many do not fear God because they do not truly know who God is. The grace we have received is not our default setting. It is right and just for God to punish us eternally. An unimaginable price was paid on our behalf: our only ground of hope and merit is the blood of the eternal Son.

Historically, Ezekiel is writing this around 593 BC, a few years before the destruction of Judah (the Southern Kingdom) in 586 BC. The Northern Kingdom was already destroyed in 722 BC. Ezekiel writes this during the exile (which began in 597 BC), and the main audience is the people who went into exile with him in Babylon. As people hoped they would return to the land, Ezekiel is essentially telling them, “No—Judah will fall, Jerusalem will fall soon, and we are not going back.”

It is truly remarkable how tightly packed the prophecy and fulfillment are in Ezekiel’s case—we are talking about a window of only 6–7 years between Ezekiel’s first prophecies and the fall of Jerusalem. Jeremiah, still in Jerusalem, was prophesying at the same time as Ezekiel. God’s word is not vague or myth. His judgment is measured and precise, and His prophets are accountable witnesses—not only to God’s judgment but also to His faithfulness.

God appoints Ezekiel as a “watchman for the house of Israel.” A watchman was someone who stood guard and warned of danger. Spiritually, Ezekiel is tasked with warning people of coming judgment—both the wicked and the righteous. If Ezekiel fails to warn the wicked and they die in their sin, their blood is on Ezekiel’s hands. But if he warns them and they ignore him, Ezekiel is not guilty. Our sin and spiritual laziness have consequences. It is often hard to see in the moment because we simply do not realize how it will affect us and future generations. Failing to abide by the word of God casts a very long shadow; kingdoms and nations rose and fell throughout the Old Testament because of it. What would you do if you knew there was an apparent wicked scheme—a plan of Satan to take over the world? Many do not wish to hear it, nor do they understand it or care. The main theme of Ezekiel up to chapter 3 is the reality of divine calling and human accountability—narrowly for prophets, but broadly for all of God’s people.

Ezekiel 1:15–28 is a visionary passage in which the prophet Ezekiel sees a divine throne-chariot—a powerful, symbolic representation of God’s glory, presence, and sovereignty. The wheels represent the omnipotence and omniscience of God. Throughout the verses, kingly authority is indicated—such as the throne—not just of a king, but of the Lord over all things. The reason this vision is important is that it is a reminder of God’s sovereignty even in exile. There are many questions we ask, such as the presence of evil in the world under God's rule. One of the hardest parts of suffering is feeling like God is far away. But the truth of the gospel is the opposite: God drew near to us, entered into our suffering, and took evil upon Himself. He doesn’t watch pain from afar. He bore it. He felt it. He understands it from within.

God does not offer us full understanding to explain away our sorrows, but offers us Jesus. He does not promise to answer every question, but He promises Himself—and sometimes, that is the deeper comfort we receive.

This vision introduces the idea that God is not confined to the Temple in Jerusalem. He is mobile, transcendent, and present even among the exiles. This is crucial because the exiles would have felt abandoned by God—but Ezekiel’s vision proves otherwise. The vision shows that the God of Ezekiel is almighty, holy, sovereign, and consistent. If anything changes in the relationship between God and man, it is we who have changed. The situation and the current of time matter, as they are mobile like God—but we do not have to be fearful or unstable in the water, because God is stable. It gives both urgency and confidence—being with the Lord does not mean there will be no storm, but it means the ship will not sink.

Knowledge can be a weapon against a pure heart. Often, we see smart people with great knowledge and good works. Many times, knowledge and good works are seen as virtues—something people admire and seek to resemble. However, we often see that smart people use their knowledge to impose “right answers,” dismissing people’s hearts and feelings. The right answer is not always the right answer. Too often, in winning the debate with knowledge, we lose people with heart. As a Christian, one thing I’ve learned is that there is a time to earn the heart, and a time to give the heart with knowledge. In one hand, we have the Gospel of Jesus Christ; in the other, the love of Jesus Christ—two things that change people’s lives.

It made me think about a “what-if” scenario. Everybody has written records that others could look up – documents revealing a person’s history such as criminal records, body counts, even the most private parts of their lives. Some might find this scary, but others might believe it would make the world better – because people tend to make better choices when they know consequences and responsibilities follow.

And yet, there is already one group in this world that ought to live this way – always doing what is right with a good conscience, living with responsibilities in response to grace, and speaking with consistency and truthfulness. Because in reality, there is one true Audience: God – the Audience who sees everything – every motive, every thought, every secret. In the end, no one will be able to say, “I did not do it,” or “I don’t deserve to be judged.”

Of course, no human is perfect but Christ — and that one perfect person poured out His grace and righteousness. We are not called to live perfectly, but to live righteously in Him. With His grace and mercy, and with endless shameful things in our past, we get to come to the Lord.

Today's passage is about offices in the church. As PCA as it can be, I will spare yall from it. God gives and takes. We often forget that. We rush to make decisions, and oftentimes we think our choices are right and what God wants. But really, it is God who gives and takes. Mighty kings are not there because they won battles or are wise, but because God raises kings. No matter how small or big, God delegates offices, jobs, money, partners, and children. If we take God out of it, we are left with burdens and meaningless efforts.

Let us pray before we make decisions. Let us come to the Lord before we face the world, people, and daily battles.

Verses 1–8 and 9–15 are both about order in the gathered church, but only verses 1–8 explicitly address the church’s public prayer life. Verses 9–15, often misunderstood and misused, shift the focus to the conduct and roles of women in worship. Historically, these verses have been wrongly used to devalue women, limit their voices, or silence them in all settings—which goes far beyond what Paul teaches. Others have misinterpreted verse 15 as saying that a woman must bear children to be saved, which contradicts the gospel of salvation by grace alone through faith.

Paul’s teaching on modesty (v. 9) is not about external purity codes or legalism, but about the heart. Modesty flows from a godly heart marked by humility, holiness, and self-control. It is about reflecting Christ. In verse 11, the word “quietly” does not mean silence, but rather a peaceful, non-disruptive posture.

In verse 13, Paul writes, “For Adam was formed first, then Eve.” Unlike Islam, which sometimes teaches that men are “one degree above women” to justify inequality, Paul does ground his teaching in creation order. Adam’s priority of creation reflects headship, not hierarchy. Man and woman are equal in worth, but given different roles. If a woman says, “It’s unfair that I can’t do certain things in the church because I’m a woman,” she misunderstands the beauty and purpose of God’s design. And if a man says, “I don’t want to lead or take responsibility,” he too fails to understand his calling. These roles are not about privilege, but about service to the church, family, and God. In this covenantal relationship between man and woman, both learn the grace of Jesus Christ, who fully submitted to the Father and laid down His life for the church.

As for verse 15—“Yet she will be saved through childbearing”—this has been misused to suggest that women must give birth in order to be saved. But this cannot be, since salvation is by grace alone, not by works or biological roles. Childbearing refers to the birth of Christ, the promised seed of the woman (Genesis 3:15). Through that Child, salvation came to the world. And those who know this grace—men and women alike—are called to live in faith, love, holiness, modesty, and self-control. By living this way, we display and deepen the love of Christ in our homes, churches, and communities.

In 1 Timothy 1:12–20, the Apostle Paul is setting both the theological foundation and the pastoral tone for the entire letter by giving a testimony of grace and a charge to Timothy to faithfully teach and guard the gospel in the face of false teaching. Paul shares his shameful testimony as a former persecutor and blasphemer. That is where the grace of God found him—he was not just offered salvation, but irresistibly drawn and transformed. Every single one of us is saved from sin and death in this same way. Now, sinners who have been saved by the grace of God live with faith and a good conscience. Unbelievers have their own moral compass, but it is often broken. They may try to make the best decisions, but with a broken moral compass, they will always end up lost. A good conscience is knowing God, embracing Christian ethics, and living a godly life.

The apostle Paul opens his pastoral letter to Timothy with both a personal greeting and an urgent warning about false teaching in the church and the misuse of the law in the culture. The law is not the problem—but its misuse is. It was never given to make people righteous, but to expose sinners. Many assume that law and enforcement can change people, but if evil men are placed under the holy law, they will twist it to serve their own ends. In this way, the law further reveals sin and identifies sinners. It points to the truth that nothing can truly change the human heart but the cross of Jesus Christ. The necessity of Christ’s righteousness is not to improve or infuse sinful humanity, but to completely remove their guilt and impute His righteousness to them.

Paul urges Timothy to confront evil and to teach the law rightly, so that it may be remembered and used to draw people closer to God.