In the first Passover, God did not save his people because they were good but because He is. Each household took a lamb, brought it into their home, and then watched as that lamb died in place of their firstborn. The blood on the door was a simple, visible confession: “The lamb died instead of me.” That night taught Israel — and now teaches us — that salvation is not earned, but received through substitution. This is the story Jesus fulfills as the true and perfect Lamb of God, who entered our world, was found without fault, and gave his life in our place. He did not die in general, but personally — for you. And because his sacrifice is finished, you are safe, you are loved, and you are free.

The firstborn stands as the representative of the whole, showing that all humanity is implicated in sin and justly under judgment, for God does not owe life to anyone. Yet the same God who judges also provides a substitute: his own Firstborn, Jesus Christ, who bears the judgment we deserve so that death might pass over us. The story of Egypt’s firstborn ultimately points us to the cross, where justice and mercy meet, and where those who are in Christ move from condemnation to life.

Christians should be the most joyful people on the planet — always! But we’re not always. This sermon explores why, from the book of Habakkuk. The prophet shows us how our joy can be as steady and sure as the promises of God in Christ, and we can (as Paul says) “rejoice always!”

A couple thousand years ago, a heavenly warrior stepped into a field full of shepherds to announce good news of cosmic proportions—news of great joy! The birth of Jesus, who is Christ the Lord, is the real answer that we, who are bone-weary, are waiting for. Pastor Barnabas Piper helps us cut through the tinsel and sparkle of Christmas to find the real Christ, who alone can give rest and joy to people like us.

Simeon shows us that those who wait for the Lord never wait in vain; active, hopeful waiting positions us to see Christ, and when the Spirit opens our eyes to behold Him as the Christ, the Savior, and the Light, we discover that He is the satisfaction of all our deepest longings.

Mary’s song shows that God delights to lift the lowly and confront the self-exalted, and that his mercy is received only with empty hands. She praises God because he has looked on her nothingness, filled the hungry, and scattered the proud—revealing the very shape of the gospel. Our problem is that we choke on this good news, grasping for our own glory instead of receiving it from God. Yet in the incarnation, the Lord of Glory goes down into our lowliness so that he might raise us up. The call is simple: stop striving, stop grasping, come hungry and lowly like Mary, and receive the mercy God loves to give.

Psalm 142 shows us how to pray when life feels like a cave—dark, lonely, and overwhelming. David models biblical lament: turning to God honestly in prayer, naming the real pain we carry, and deliberately choosing to trust God’s character and promises even when our emotions say otherwise. Lament is God’s gift for weary people; it moves us from despair toward confidence that the Lord will deal bountifully with us. As Christ entered the deepest cave on the cross and rose again, we can trust Him with our sorrows, knowing He cares and has the power to redeem every grief.