What happens when your Bible itself raises questions.

At the end of Mark’s Gospel, many readers notice a surprising sentence, “The earliest manuscripts do not include these verses.” For some, that sparks curiosity. For others, anxiety. In this message, we slow down, look honestly at Mark 16:9 to 20, and ask a big, important question, can we trust the Bible when the Bible shows us its seams.

This sermon explores how Scripture came to us, why textual notes like this exist, and why careful reading is not a threat to faith but an expression of reverence. Far from weakening confidence, transparency about manuscripts actually strengthens our trust in God and his Word.

Walking through the close of Mark’s Gospel, we see four key movements. What we are called to do as witnesses of the risen Jesus. Why fear and sin so often silence us. How Jesus himself accomplished what we could never do through his death and resurrection. And how, in his strength and not our own, we are now sent out with resurrection hope.

Mark may leave us standing at an empty tomb, but nothing essential is missing. Scripture interprets Scripture. Jesus is risen. The gospel is clear. And the question is no longer whether the news is true, but whether we will step forward in faith to share it.

The tomb is empty. Jesus is alive. And that is news too good to keep to ourselves.

What if the church is not meant to be a collection of individuals, but a living mosaic?

In this message, we explore 1 Corinthians 12:12 to 13 and discover God’s design for His people, many different lives, woven into one redemptive story.

We reflect on the beauty of diversity, the pain of division, and the power of Jesus to bring broken pieces together into something far greater than any one of us could create alone.

This is a message about belonging, identity, unity, and mission.

Whether you feel like a vital part of the picture or a small, unnoticed piece, this message reminds us that in Christ, you matter, and your story has a place.

Mosaic Church, many people, one story.