Sunday

📖 Matt. 28:1–15; Mark 16:1–8; Luke 24:1–49; John 20:1–24

Early in the morning, the women went to the tomb. They brought spices—not hope. But when they arrived, the stone had already been rolled away. The angel said, “He is not here—He has risen.” Everything changed that day. Grief turned to joy. Fear became courage. The resurrection of Jesus is not a symbol of renewed spirit, but a historical fact that changed human reality forever. He lives—and because He lives, we have a hope that cannot be destroyed.

Jesus appeared to Mary. Then to the disciples who were afraid and hiding. They gathered in a locked room—not with great strength, but with flickers of faith that were barely burning. Like embers about to die out, they stayed together, unsure of what to expect. And it was there that the Lord appeared. He did not rebuke them for fleeing or doubting—He showed them His hands and side, and said, “Peace be with you.” That peace didn’t come from a calm situation, but from a victorious Redeemer. Death could not hold Him. The power of sin was broken. The path to eternal life was opened. And all of this was not because of our strength, but because He completed the work of redemption to the end. In that fragile fellowship, God rekindled the flame of faith among His people.

Today is not merely a remembrance—it is the celebration of a real and living victory. The resurrection of Jesus is the foundation of our faith, the source of our strength, and the assurance that every one of His promises is true. We no longer live in the shadow of the grave, but in the light of the resurrection. So let us live with deep joy and steadfast faith. Christ is risen—He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

Saturday

📖 Matt. 27:62–66

Jesus was dead. His body was laid in a new tomb, owned by Joseph of Arimathea. The chief priests and Pharisees went to Pilate and requested that the tomb be secured. They remembered Jesus’ words about rising again, though they did not believe. So a seal was set, and guards were posted—as if stones and soldiers could hold back the power of God. But they forgot: the One they opposed was no ordinary teacher, but One who had revealed authority over death—and death would not be able to hold Him forever.

That Saturday was a quiet day. For the disciples, it was filled with grief and uncertainty. The promises they had heard now felt distant. Their Master was dead. Yet even in the silence, God’s plan moved forward. No spotlight. No crowds. No sound. In stillness, victory was being prepared. God never stops working, even when we cannot see it.

Today teaches us to trust when the heavens seem silent. When prayers remain unanswered, when hope seems buried, when everything feels still—God is still at work. The tomb is not the end of the story. Silence is not the mark of defeat. It is in that quiet that resurrection waits for its appointed hour. So we are called to keep hoping, keep watching, and keep trusting—for God never abandons His plan.

Friday

📖 Matt. 26:47–27:61; Mark 14:43–15:47; Luke 22:47–23:56; John 18:1–19:42; Acts 1:18–19

In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus was arrested. His closest friends fled. He was dragged before a court that had already passed its verdict before the trial began. He was falsely accused, spat upon, beaten, and led to Golgotha. From a human perspective, this was a tragic failure. But from the eyes of faith, it was the perfect fulfillment of God’s plan. The Holy Son willingly gave Himself to bear the wrath for sin. He was punished not because He was guilty, but because of His love for a people who truly deserved judgment.

When the nails pierced His hands and feet, Jesus did not resist. When mockery came from all directions, He remained silent. On the cross, He cried, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?”—not because He had lost faith, but because He was fully entering the separation we deserved. Then, when all was complete, He cried out, “It is finished.” Not a cry of defeat, but a declaration of victory. The sacrifice was complete. The price was paid in full. The temple curtain was torn in two. The way to God was opened by the blood of the Lamb.

Today, we do not merely remember the death of Jesus. We give thanks, for by His wounds we are healed. We come to the cross not to feel pity, but to bow and believe. Here lies the foundation of our hope. Here sin is conquered, death is overthrown, and the love of God shines with unmatched brilliance. The cross is not the end of the story—it is the beginning of new life.

Thursday

📖 Matt. 26:17–46; Mark 14:12–42; Luke 22:7–46; John 13–17; 1 Cor. 11:23–25

Jesus celebrated the Passover with His disciples. In the middle of the meal, He took bread and said, “This is My body,” then the cup, saying, “This is My blood.” He instituted the Lord’s Supper not as a mere symbol, but as a means of grace in which He Himself is truly present—though not physically. In the bread and wine, believers are genuinely united with Christ through faith. We do not merely remember Him—we are nourished and strengthened by the Living One.

Even as Jesus offered Himself, the disciples were arguing about who among them was the greatest. How far their thoughts were from the path of the cross. Yet Jesus did not leave them. He knelt and washed their feet—one by one—including the feet that would soon run away. He knew who would betray Him, yet still handed him the bread. Not because His love was naïve, but because all was unfolding according to the Father’s plan. Even betrayal could not undo the love that had been appointed from the beginning. In the midst of human weakness, love pressed forward to the cross.

In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus prayed in deep agony. He cried out that the cup might pass—but surrendered fully to the will of the Father. In that quiet place, He kept watch while the disciples slept. And it was there, in the darkness, that victory began—because there, Jesus chose obedience. Today we are invited into the stillness of Gethsemane—not only to grieve, but to learn to trust and surrender to the perfect will of God.

Wednesday

📖 Matt. 26:14–16; Mark 14:10–11; Luke 22:3–6

Not many events are recorded on this day. But it is precisely in the silence that a weighty decision is made: Judas goes to the chief priests and agrees to hand over his Master. He looks for the right time to betray Jesus when no crowd is present. Sin moves in secrecy. It doesn’t always make noise—but destruction often begins quietly, in a heart that has grown cold to truth.

Judas had seen miracles, heard the teachings, and walked closely with the Truth Himself. But physical closeness does not guarantee a heart that’s truly near. His desires had already been captured by something far smaller than the glory of Christ. He didn’t betray Jesus by force, but by a will he had nurtured. This is the danger of unchecked desires that grow silently within.

Today we are invited to reflect—not on dramatic outward actions, but on the quiet state of our hearts. What are we harboring in secret? Are we allowing space for hidden cravings to grow? Or are we welcoming the light of the Word to renew us? In today’s silence, let us invite the Lord to search our hearts and shape them once again.

Tuesday

📖 Matt. 21:20–25:46; 26:3–5; Mark 11:20–14:2; Luke 20:1–21:36; 22:2

Throughout the day, Jesus taught openly in the temple. He spoke parables about human responsibility before God, judgment on hypocrisy, and the call to stay watchful. The religious leaders tried to trap Him with tricky questions, but Jesus answered with wisdom and authority. He was not afraid of confrontation, because truth must be declared even when it will be rejected. That day, His voice continued calling people to repent before the door of mercy closed.

Jesus also gave prophecies about the destruction of Jerusalem and the end of the age. He showed that judgment is not distant or abstract—it is a coming reality, and only those who are watchful and believe will be spared. In all His teaching, Jesus was not merely giving future information, but shaping hearts to be faithful. He was preparing His disciples to endure when the world shakes. What sustains them is not human strength, but the mercy of God.

While Jesus proclaimed truth in the daylight, plans to kill Him were forming in the shadows. Yet He kept walking forward, unshaken. No matter what happened, God remained in control. Today we are reminded to live not just with knowledge, but with spiritual alertness. What we hear in the Word should shape how we wait and stay faithful—not because we are strong, but because He is.

Monday

📖 Matt. 21:18–19,12–13; Mark 11:12–17; Luke 19:45–46

That morning, Jesus was hungry and approached a fig tree full of leaves. But when He got closer, He found no fruit. Then He cursed the tree. This wasn’t just an act of hunger—it was a powerful sign: a life that looks flourishing on the outside, but is empty within. God is not looking for appearances, but for fruit. He calls for true repentance, not just outward spiritual activity. This is a sharp warning for anyone more focused on managing their image than cultivating faithful obedience before God.

After that, Jesus entered the temple. The house of prayer had become a center of transactions. He overturned the tables and drove out the merchants. His anger wasn’t a moment of impulse, but a response born of love for the holiness of God’s house. God does not stay silent when worship is polluted by greed, hypocrisy, or religious systems more concerned with profit than with souls. The temple is not a marketplace—it is the meeting place between the Holy God and His weak people.

Today we are invited to examine ourselves: Are we bearing fruit that truly pleases God? Or are we busy arranging leaves of appearance with no root of obedience? Is the Lord’s house—both in our personal lives and in the gathered church—still a place of true prayer and worship? Let Jesus cleanse our lives—not with destructive wrath, but with His love that refuses to leave us in impurity, and leads us back to holiness and true worship.

Sunday (Palm Sunday)

📖 Matt. 21:1–11,17; Mark 11:1–11; Luke 19:29–44; John 12:12–50

Jesus entered Jerusalem as King—but not the kind of king people expected. He came riding on a donkey, not a war horse. He rejected earthly glory and chose the path of humility. While the crowds shouted with joy and laid down their cloaks, they did not truly know the One they welcomed. They thought Jesus had come to lift up their nation, but He came to lift the burden of sin from His people.

As He saw the city, Jesus wept. He knew they were rejecting the very coming of God. In front of the grand temple—meant to be the center of true worship—stood hearts that had grown hard. They did not recognize that the Prince of Peace was in their midst. Even His own disciples did not yet fully grasp His mission. But everything unfolded just as it had been appointed—He did not come to be exalted by men, but to be lifted up on the cross.

Today, we are reminded that true knowledge of Christ doesn’t come from crowds or emotion, but from hearts shaped by the Word and grace. Jesus is the King worthy of full surrender—not fleeting praise. Don’t just wave palm branches; lay down your life. He is the only King who brings everlasting peace—peace between God and man.

Children came to know about The Spiritual War and learn about “The Whole Armor of God”. See you on the next VBS!

In this pandemic season, what did our fellowship do? We still celebrate Christmas, for unto us A Child is born!