What happens when grief takes more than something you love, and starts to take something of you?

In the opening verses of the book of Ruth (Ruth 1:1–5), a woman named Naomi loses her husband and both her sons in a foreign land. In this first message of a series on Ruth, Jeremy Duncan explores why Naomi, not Ruth, is the central character of the story, why many scholars think this woman-centred book may have been written as a quiet protest against the exclusion of foreigners in the time of Ezra and Nehemiah (Nehemiah 13), and how the meaning of the names in the story reveals what is really going on: pleasantness has lost her very name.

From there the conversation turns to us. Our sense of identity is often wrapped up in our roles, our careers, our status, and the ways people need us. When those things slip away, who are we? The baptism of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark offers a different foundation: before he did anything, Jesus was named beloved. Our worth does not come from what we produce, and grief, however real, does not get the final word on who we are.

Scripture referenced: Ruth 1:1–5, Nehemiah 13, Exodus 22, Isaiah 56, Mark 1.

What if the Bible was never meant to win arguments?

When we're confused, afraid or disillusioned, it's tempting to treat scripture like ammunition, tossing verses back and forth until someone runs out. But that isn't how the scriptures work, and it isn't how they came to us.

In this message, Jeremy Duncan walks the road to Emmaus (Luke 24) with two heartbroken disciples who know all the right verses and still can't recognize the risen Jesus walking beside them.

Along the way he looks at two proverbs that contradict each other (Proverbs 26:4–5), what "all Scripture is God-breathed" in 2 Timothy 3:16–17 meant to its first readers, and how the idea of inspiration shifted from a living, life-giving breath toward word-for-word dictation in documents like the 1978 Chicago Statement on Inerrancy.

From the breath of life in Genesis 2 to the dry bones of Ezekiel 37, this is an invitation to read the Bible as a conversation rather than a rulebook, and to listen for the story that restores our hope and leads us back to Jesus.

In this sermon on Hebrews 11–12:2, Bobbi explores "learning to listen to ancestors." The message reclaims Christian tradition not as a restrictive relic to escape, but as an inherited wisdom that anchors people against isolation and everyday pressures.

By examining how the writer of Hebrews reframes flawed historical figures and presents Jesus as the pioneer and finish line of faith, Bobbi illustrates how individual struggles are part of a shared, interconnected marathon where past and present believers are perfected together.

Ultimately, listening to spiritual ancestors equips us to enter fully into our own human experience, finding endurance in the surrounding "cloud of witnesses" and taking up the responsibility to live faithfully so that we, too, become good ancestors for the generations to come.

Hebrews 11-12:2

Scott draws on the story of Elijah in 1 Kings 19 to examine how nature speaks to our greatest fears, and how it can also move us into moments of divine encounter. He argues that Elijah’s experience of stillness in the natural world is a model for us to follow in a world full of so much noise.

We’re invited to welcome the ways that nature grounds us and guides us in all our next steps.

I Kings 19:1-18

What might we hear from God if we made more room to listen to people we don’t yet know?

In Genesis 18, Abraham welcomes three unexpected visitors. This sermon explores the mystery of that encounter and asks how curiosity and hospitality might open us to conversations we never saw coming.

What would it look like to roll up the sides of our tents and pay attention to who is nearby?

What if loving your neighbour begins with listening—before deciding who they are or what they deserve?

In this message, we revisit the Good Samaritan in Luke 10 and explore how Jesus shifts the question from identifying our neighbours to becoming a neighbour. Along the way, we consider the invitation to hear at the heart of the greatest commandment, the familiar stories we’ve stopped listening to, and the compassion that grows when someone else’s story becomes part of ours.

An invitation to stay curious longer, open conversations without an agenda, and practise kindness even when the people closest to us get on our nerves.

What if your doubts don’t disqualify you from faith?

In Mark 9, a father brings Jesus an honest prayer: “I believe; help my unbelief.” His story invites us to let go of perfection, make room for uncertainty, and take the next step toward the future we hope for.

From the mountaintop transfiguration to Jesus’ compassion in the valley, this message explores how hope becomes tangible in ordinary life—and why imperfect faith is enough to begin.

You don’t have to believe perfectly to belong. Bring your questions, your hope, and whatever faith you have today.

Scripture: Mark 9:2–7, 14–18, 20–24

In this return to the familiar conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, Scott explores how we regularly face experiences we can't explain.

He considers how curiosity can be a form of faith when we're swept beyond our intellectual limits, how our hunger to start over is divine, how Jesus uses the metaphor of wind and Spirit, and how we can participate in a tangible mysticism every day.

Scripture: John 3:1-21