Luke 23 stands like a mountain ridge in the story of Scripture, and climbing it reveals the hard edges of history and the soft center of grace. The chapter moves with stark clarity: the trial before Pilate, the detour to Herod, the crowd’s demand for Barabbas, the weary road
Luke 22 pulls us into a room thick with memory, ritual, and tension, then walks us into a garden where courage is tested to the breaking point. The chapter opens with Judas negotiating betrayal and moves quickly to a Passover meal that Jesus reframes as a new covenant. At the
The scene opens with simple devotion: a widow shuffles forward and slips two tiny coins into the temple treasury. No one notices—except Jesus. That quiet moment reframes value, worship, and trust. The point isn’t the size of the gift but the shape of the heart. In a culture
Luke 20 reads like a courtroom drama that keeps breaking into a masterclass on truth. The chapter opens with a confrontation over authority, and it never lets go of that theme. Who gets to define what is right, what is owed, and what lasts beyond death? In our conversation, we