What Israel’s story makes painfully obvious is that following the Lord is a lifelong lesson in “I believe, but help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).
Faith holds on to the truth of who Jesus is revealed to be, despite our sometimes incongruent experience with God.
This is an excerpt from the first chapter of A Reasoned Defense of the Faith by Adam Francisco (1517 Publishing, 2026), pgs 1-3.

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As the greater and more faithful Son of God, Jesus did what the Israelites could not do. Neither can we.
God saves us through people. He saves us through means. He puts a voice on the gospel.
You have been given a glimpse of glory, the glory of forgiveness, that you can share with those around you in the world.
By listing a series of situations in rapid succession, Jesus overwhelms us with how practical, how real, how tangible, how concrete, how utterly achievable life in the kingdom can be.
Jesus curses our cultural expectations. He says "woe" to those who are rich, satisfied, joyful, and praised. The good life of our world is not good for discipleship.
The miraculous catch of fish happens not just once in the ministry of Jesus but twice. And, interestingly this miracle happens twice to the same person. Simon Peter.
You might not know it, but every Christian hopes for the day when their faith will die. Really. I promise. Faith’s death is our celebration.
Even for idolatrous sellouts like you and me, God’s position has not changed. Even though we may have forgotten him, he never forgets us.
The same Christ we proclaim to the people in our pews is the same Christ who is for those not in our pews.
During this season of Epiphany, we experience more than the revelation of who Jesus is. We also celebrate how Jesus makes God fully known.
I write this as someone who’s genuinely concerned that American congregants are getting bamboozled by preachers who are giving them less than what they need Sunday after Sunday.
At its heart, this is what Deacon King Kong is all about: the paradox of Jesus carving his victory out of the last thing we expect, not our triumphs but our defeats.