John has just been arrested, and that is when Jesus starts. Pastor Adam works through what makes a kairos moment, why they are easy to miss — and ends somewhere else entirely: the work does not need you, but he wants your company while he does it.

Palm Sunday in Mark 11 — the donkey, the withered… read more

The Transfiguration in Mark 9, brought by a visiting Scottish… read more

Mark’s resurrection account is the least tidy of the four. Pastor Adam builds on one word — afterward — and on a pattern where Christ shows up following a disappointment, in a form nobody recognises until later.

Jesus commends the widow not for the size of her gift but for what was left afterwards — a considerably more uncomfortable standard than the one most giving is measured by.

Jesus says follow me to a tax collector, and Matthew’s first act as a disciple is to fill his house with his own circle. Nobody was cleaned up first — and Jesus tells the religious professionals watching to go and learn what mercy means.

The unclean spirit makes the most theologically accurate statement in the chapter — I know who you are, the Holy One of God — and Jesus silences it. Correct information about Jesus turns out not to be the same thing as relationship with him.

Four men dig through a roof to lower a paralysed friend in, and the text says Jesus saw *their* faith. Then he forgives sins rather than legs — and the healing that follows is offered as evidence for the harder claim rather than as the main event.

“I see people; they look like trees walking around.” Pastor Adam takes the two-stage healing as the point rather than an embarrassment — Jesus is not a microwave salesman selling instant spirituality, and a second touch is not a failed miracle.