Your Child Isn't Too Far Gone
What We Didn’t Say on Sunday

Westside Gainesville •
September 3, 2026

9 Minute Read


David spent the week on Kauai as a guest of some friends — hikes to sunrise cliffs, sea turtles on the beach, an overpriced luau that opened with the Hawaiian Doxology sung in harmony. The congregation didn’t know that part. Also: the couple at the luau table turned out to be connected to David’s former church in Marietta, Georgia. Somewhere around 10,000 miles from Gainesville. The world continues to be remarkably small.

He came back to preach on one of the most uncomfortable stories in the whole series — Manasseh. Fifty-five years of idolatry. Sorcery. His own children sacrificed. Idols placed in the temple itself. And then God forgave him. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday is David and Richie unpacking why that’s in the Bible, what it means, and the one thing about Manasseh that David didn’t have time to say on Sunday

Why Does Chronicles Tell the Story Differently Than Kings?

David opened his sermon by placing Manasseh inside the two-book tension that runs through the whole series. First and Second Kings were written during the Babylonian exile — the people have been removed from Jerusalem and are asking: how did we get here? The book answers that question. The story of Manasseh in Kings is pure indictment — this is what you did, this is why you’re in chains.

First and Second Chronicles were written later, after a smaller group returned from exile and rebuilt the temple and the walls. Their question is different: do we have a future with God? Can a people who failed this badly actually come back? Chronicles tells the same stories as Kings, but the ones it expands are the ones that carry hope. Manasseh is the prime example. Kings tells you how bad he was. Chronicles adds what happened next.

Richie’s Sermon: Run, Repent, Rest

Richie’s three-point framework at Southwest read Manasseh’s story through the lens of the prodigal son. We run. Manasseh runs for 55 years — every step a little further from the God he knows about. We run the same way, just in smaller increments and with better excuses. The prodigal son runs too, and eventually runs out of money and friends simultaneously.

We repent — which Richie located in the moment Manasseh has literally nothing left. Chains. Babylon. Away from the temple, which for an Israelite meant away from any sense of proximity to God. And it’s in that stripped-down place that Manasseh reaches out. Luke 15:17 captures the same moment for the prodigal son: “when he came to himself.” That’s repentance. Not a calculation. A coming home.

We rest — which Richie anchored in Manasseh being restored to Jerusalem, his kingdom, knowing the Lord. The same word Chronicles uses for his homecoming. He didn’t just get his throne back. He came home. And Richie closed on 1 Peter 1 — an inheritance kept in heaven, guaranteed, even while the present trials are real.

The Master Politician Who Hedged His Bets

One of the things the sermon didn’t have time for: why did Manasseh compromise so completely? David and Richie’s read — Manasseh was a master politician. He survived 55 years on the throne of a small kingdom surrounded by empires. He didn’t survive that by accident. He survived it by appeasing everyone — building altars to every neighboring god, making political alliances through false worship, using sorcery and divination the same way a modern politician uses a pollster. He wanted to control his future, and he used every tool available to him.

The problem: none of those tools worked. The Assyrian general showed up anyway. The hook through the nose and chains to Babylon were God’s version of grabbing someone by the ear when they’ve stopped listening. And it worked.

“God always speaks before He strikes. It’s not until we’ve resisted His word and the conviction of the Holy Spirit that He often speaks to us through distress.” — Pastor David Chauncey
Take Your Next Step
What WE Didn’t Cover: The Unpardonable Sin

This is the genuinely rare “what we didn’t say on Sunday” moment in this episode. Manasseh — a man who sacrificed his own children, led an entire nation into idolatry, and shed so much innocent blood that Chronicles specifically blames Judah’s eventual exile on him even after his repentance — the obvious question surfaces: how far is too far? Is there a line?

Jesus says there is one unpardonable sin. It’s in Matthew 12, when the Pharisees watch Jesus cast out a demon and say he’s operating by Beelzebul — attributing the work of the Holy Spirit to Satan. That’s the line. It’s not a specific moral sin. It’s the final, hardened refusal to acknowledge that the Holy Spirit is working at all. David and Richie’s practical conclusion: if you’re worried about whether you’ve committed the unpardonable sin, that worry itself is evidence you haven’t. The Holy Spirit is still working on you.

How Grace Actually Works With Someone Like Manasseh

David made the theological point carefully: God didn’t forgive Manasseh by looking past what he did. He didn’t say “that sure was a good prayer, Manasseh, so I’ll overlook the children you sacrificed.” He took Manasseh’s sin and placed it on Jesus. Manasseh is forgiven for the same reason David Chauncey is. For the same reason anyone who turns is. The cross is what makes that possible — and it was already making it possible centuries before Manasseh prayed, through the forward-looking covenant God had made with David’s line.

That’s what makes the Manasseh story so unsettling in the best possible way. He’s an explosion of grace in the middle of the Old Testament. And that’s precisely the point.

Also in this episode
  • David’s Hawaii trip: Kauai, a luau that opened with the Doxology in Hawaiian harmony, sea turtles, a sunrise hike, and a couple from Marietta Georgia 10,000 miles from home
  • Manasseh as master politician — why 55 years on the throne with enemies on every side actually makes theological sense
  • The prodigal son going off the platform — David illustrated the journey from the father’s house, realized mid-sermon this was a mistake, and survived
  • The Gators sarcasm dying at 11am: David said “Why are y’all in such a good mood? I was in prayer all day Saturday” — the congregation thought he meant it and nobody laughed
  • Preview: The final Kingdom Family sermon next week — Hezekiah, then King Jesus
  • Next series announced: Titus — how to pass faith along in churches and families
Why Does Matthew’s Genealogy Include Sinners and Failures?

Matthew’s genealogy in chapter 1 is structured as three groups of 14 generations: Abraham to David, David to the Babylonian exile, and the exile to Jesus. Within this structure, Matthew deliberately includes kings whose reigns were marked by failure, compromise, and outright wickedness. The theological reason is intentional: Matthew is not writing a story about human heroes. He is establishing that Jesus is the rightful King of Kings who descends from the line of David — and the integrity of that genealogy requires including every generation, not just the spiritually successful ones. The Bible does not hide the failures of its figures because the central argument of Scripture is not human faithfulness but divine grace.

Frequently asked questions
Your Child Isn’t Too Far Gone

The short biblical answer is that forgiveness isn’t proportional to the severity of the sin — it’s made possible by the sacrifice of Christ, which is sufficient for any sin that is genuinely repented of. Manasseh’s story in 2 Chronicles 33 demonstrates this directly: one of the most wicked kings in Judah’s history, guilty of idolatry, sorcery, and child sacrifice, repented in Babylon and was restored by God. The text doesn’t explain it away. It lets it be shocking. The point isn’t that Manasseh’s sin was overlooked — it was placed on Jesus. The same theological mechanism that forgives ordinary sins forgives extraordinary ones. That’s not a loophole. That’s the cross.

What Is the Unpardonable Sin?

The unpardonable sin — also called blasphemy of the Holy Spirit — is described by Jesus in Matthew 12:31–32. The Pharisees had watched Jesus cast out a demon and attributed the miracle to Beelzebul rather than God. Jesus calls this blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. Most theologians understand this not as a single specific action that can be accidentally committed, but as the final, persistent hardening of one’s heart against the Holy Spirit’s testimony about Jesus — the settled refusal to acknowledge the Spirit’s work at all. Because this sin is defined by its resistance to the Holy Spirit’s conviction, genuine concern about whether one has committed it is itself evidence that they haven’t.

What Is the Difference Between Kings and Chronicles on Manasseh?

First and Second Kings were written during the Babylonian exile, answering the question: how did we get here? Its account of Manasseh (2 Kings 21) focuses on the depth of his sin and explains it as the decisive reason for Judah’s exile. First and Second Chronicles were compiled after the exile, when the people had returned and were asking: do we have a future with God? Chronicles covers the same historical period but expands moments that carry hope. The Manasseh account in 2 Chronicles 33 includes a section that Kings omits entirely: his captivity in Babylon, his prayer, God’s response, and his subsequent reforms in Jerusalem. The different emphasis isn’t a contradiction — it’s each book answering its own audience’s question.


Scripture Referenced: 2 Chronicles 33 • 2 Kings 21 • Luke 15:11–32 • 1 Peter 1:3–5 • Romans 7:24–25 • Matthew 12:31–32 • 2 Chronicles 7:14 • Psalm 72

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September 3, 2026 • 9 Minute Read
Your Child Isn't Too Far Gone
David spent the week on Kauai as a guest of some friends — hikes to sunrise cliffs, sea turtles on the beach, an overpriced luau that opened with the Hawaiian Doxology sung in harmony. The congregation didn’t know that part. Also: the couple at the luau table turned out to be connected to David’s former church in Marietta, Georgia. Somewhere around 10,000 miles from Gainesville. The world continues to be remarkably small. He came back to preach on one of the most uncomfortable stories in the whole series — Manasseh. Fifty-five years of idolatry. Sorcery. His own children sacrificed. Idols placed in the temple itself. And then God forgave him. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday is David and Richie unpacking why that’s in the Bible, what it means, and the one thing about Manasseh that David didn’t have time to say on Sunday Why Does Chronicles Tell the Story Differently Than Kings? David opened his sermon by placing Manasseh inside the two-book tension that runs through the whole series. First and Second Kings were written during the Babylonian exile — the people have been removed from Jerusalem and are asking: how did we get here? The book answers that question. The story of Manasseh in Kings is pure indictment — this is what you did, this is why you’re in chains. First and Second Chronicles were written later, after a smaller group returned from exile and rebuilt the temple and the walls. Their question is different: do we have a future with God? Can a people who failed this badly actually come back? Chronicles tells the same stories as Kings, but the ones it expands are the ones that carry hope. Manasseh is the prime example. Kings tells you how bad he was. Chronicles adds what happened next. Richie’s Sermon: Run, Repent, Rest Richie’s three-point framework at Southwest read Manasseh’s story through the lens of the prodigal son. We run. Manasseh runs for 55 years — every step a little further from the God he knows about. We run the same way, just in smaller increments and with better excuses. The prodigal son runs too, and eventually runs out of money and friends simultaneously. We repent — which Richie located in the moment Manasseh has literally nothing left. Chains. Babylon. Away from the temple, which for an Israelite meant away from any sense of proximity to God. And it’s in that stripped-down place that Manasseh reaches out. Luke 15:17 captures the same moment for the prodigal son: “when he came to himself.” That’s repentance. Not a calculation. A coming home. We rest — which Richie anchored in Manasseh being restored to Jerusalem, his kingdom, knowing the Lord. The same word Chronicles uses for his homecoming. He didn’t just get his throne back. He came home. And Richie closed on 1 Peter 1 — an inheritance kept in heaven, guaranteed, even while the present trials are real. The Master Politician Who Hedged His Bets One of the things the sermon didn’t have time for: why did Manasseh compromise so completely? David and Richie’s read — Manasseh was a master politician. He survived 55 years on the throne of a small kingdom surrounded by empires. He didn’t survive that by accident. He survived it by appeasing everyone — building altars to every neighboring god, making political alliances through false worship, using sorcery and divination the same way a modern politician uses a pollster. He wanted to control his future, and he used every tool available to him. The problem: none of those tools worked. The Assyrian general showed up anyway. The hook through the nose and chains to Babylon were God’s version of grabbing someone by the ear when they’ve stopped listening. And it worked. “God always speaks before He strikes. It’s not until we’ve resisted His word and the conviction of the Holy Spirit that He often speaks to us through distress.” — Pastor David ChaunceyTake Your Next Step What WE Didn’t Cover: The Unpardonable Sin This is the genuinely rare “what we didn’t say on Sunday” moment in this episode. Manasseh — a man who sacrificed his own children, led an entire nation into idolatry, and shed so much innocent blood that Chronicles specifically blames Judah’s eventual exile on him even after his repentance — the obvious question surfaces: how far is too far? Is there a line? Jesus says there is one unpardonable sin. It’s in Matthew 12, when the Pharisees watch Jesus cast out a demon and say he’s operating by Beelzebul — attributing the work of the Holy Spirit to Satan. That’s the line. It’s not a specific moral sin. It’s the final, hardened refusal to acknowledge that the Holy Spirit is working at all. David and Richie’s practical conclusion: if you’re worried about whether you’ve committed the unpardonable sin, that worry itself is evidence you haven’t. The Holy Spirit is still working on you. How Grace Actually Works With Someone Like Manasseh David made the theological point carefully: God didn’t forgive Manasseh by looking past what he did. He didn’t say “that sure was a good prayer, Manasseh, so I’ll overlook the children you sacrificed.” He took Manasseh’s sin and placed it on Jesus. Manasseh is forgiven for the same reason David Chauncey is. For the same reason anyone who turns is. The cross is what makes that possible — and it was already making it possible centuries before Manasseh prayed, through the forward-looking covenant God had made with David’s line. That’s what makes the Manasseh story so unsettling in the best possible way. He’s an explosion of grace in the middle of the Old Testament. And that’s precisely the point. Also in this episode David’s Hawaii trip: Kauai, a luau that opened with the Doxology in Hawaiian harmony, sea turtles, a sunrise hike, and a couple from Marietta Georgia 10,000 miles from home Manasseh as master politician — why 55 years on the throne with enemies on every side actually makes theological sense The prodigal son going off the platform — David illustrated the journey from the father’s house, realized mid-sermon this was a mistake, and survived The Gators sarcasm dying at 11am: David said “Why are y’all in such a good mood? I was in prayer all day Saturday” — the congregation thought he meant it and nobody laughed Preview: The final Kingdom Family sermon next week — Hezekiah, then King Jesus Next series announced: Titus — how to pass faith along in churches and families Why Does Matthew’s Genealogy Include Sinners and Failures? Matthew’s genealogy in chapter 1 is structured as three groups of 14 generations: Abraham to David, David to the Babylonian exile, and the exile to Jesus. Within this structure, Matthew deliberately includes kings whose reigns were marked by failure, compromise, and outright wickedness. The theological reason is intentional: Matthew is not writing a story about human heroes. He is establishing that Jesus is the rightful King of Kings who descends from the line of David — and the integrity of that genealogy requires including every generation, not just the spiritually successful ones. The Bible does not hide the failures of its figures because the central argument of Scripture is not human faithfulness but divine grace. Frequently asked questions Your Child Isn’t Too Far Gone The short biblical answer is that forgiveness isn’t proportional to the severity of the sin — it’s made possible by the sacrifice of Christ, which is sufficient for any sin that is genuinely repented of. Manasseh’s story in 2 Chronicles 33 demonstrates this directly: one of the most wicked kings in Judah’s history, guilty of idolatry, sorcery, and child sacrifice, repented in Babylon and was restored by God. The text doesn’t explain it away. It lets it be shocking. The point isn’t that Manasseh’s sin was overlooked — it was placed on Jesus. The same theological mechanism that forgives ordinary sins forgives extraordinary ones. That’s not a loophole. That’s the cross. What Is the Unpardonable Sin? The unpardonable sin — also called blasphemy of the Holy Spirit — is described by Jesus in Matthew 12:31–32. The Pharisees had watched Jesus cast out a demon and attributed the miracle to Beelzebul rather than God. Jesus calls this blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. Most theologians understand this not as a single specific action that can be accidentally committed, but as the final, persistent hardening of one’s heart against the Holy Spirit’s testimony about Jesus — the settled refusal to acknowledge the Spirit’s work at all. Because this sin is defined by its resistance to the Holy Spirit’s conviction, genuine concern about whether one has committed it is itself evidence that they haven’t. What Is the Difference Between Kings and Chronicles on Manasseh? First and Second Kings were written during the Babylonian exile, answering the question: how did we get here? Its account of Manasseh (2 Kings 21) focuses on the depth of his sin and explains it as the decisive reason for Judah’s exile. First and Second Chronicles were compiled after the exile, when the people had returned and were asking: do we have a future with God? Chronicles covers the same historical period but expands moments that carry hope. The Manasseh account in 2 Chronicles 33 includes a section that Kings omits entirely: his captivity in Babylon, his prayer, God’s response, and his subsequent reforms in Jerusalem. The different emphasis isn’t a contradiction — it’s each book answering its own audience’s question. Scripture Referenced: 2 Chronicles 33 • 2 Kings 21 • Luke 15:11–32 • 1 Peter 1:3–5 • Romans 7:24–25 • Matthew 12:31–32 • 2 Chronicles 7:14 • Psalm 72

Westside Gainesville

September 3, 2026 • 6 Minute Read
Why God's Discipline Is Actually Good News
Imagine you ordered a pizza. Seven perfect slices. One slice has a cockroach baked into it. Would you call it a good pie? Nobody would. And that’s the question Pastor Jonathan Phoenix brought to the Newberry Road campus last Sunday: how can we offer seven-eighths of our lives to God and call that faithful? This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday features Richie Baldwin and Jonathan — Westside’s International Ministry pastor, on staff since 2020 — talking through what Jonathan preached on Sunday, why Matthew’s genealogy includes some of the messiest kings in Judah’s history, and how 12% of Gainesville is foreign-born and doesn’t know it yet has a church home waiting. God Is Predictably Gracious The phrase Jonathan kept returning to on Sunday — and throughout the episode — is one David has been building toward all series: God is predictably gracious. Not randomly gracious. Not occasionally gracious. Predictably. The discipline Asa experienced when he trusted physicians over God in his final years wasn’t God abandoning him. It was God doing what Hebrews says he always does with his children: disciplining those he loves. And the invitation on the other side of that discipline is always the same. It’s never too late to come back. “We’re predictably messy. But God is predictably gracious and forgiving.” — Pastor Jonathan Fenix The Pizza Illustration Jonathan was looking for an illustration for going all in with God — and landed on pizza. Seven perfect slices, one slice with a cockroach baked in. Nobody eats around the bad slice and calls the pizza good. The whole thing goes in the trash. He was using it to press on the question of partial obedience: we wouldn’t accept one compromised slice of pizza, so why do we think God would accept one compromised eighth of a life? It made himself hungry, by his own admission, especially at the 11 o’clock service. Richie’s wife is an entomologist — she eats bugs, a practice technically called entomophagy — and she would apparently be able to recommend which cockroach varieties are edible if it came to that. The podcast went somewhere unexpected. Why Are Failed Kings in Jesus’s Family Tree? The Matthew genealogy thread is the most substantive theological content in the episode. Matthew structures his genealogy in three sets of 14 generations — Abraham to David, David to the Babylonian exile, exile to Jesus — and in doing so he skips several kings. What he doesn’t skip is Asa, Jehoshaphat, and Joram. Three generations of the four-chair pattern in sequence: a king who ended poorly, a king who taught well and compromised relationally, and a king who collapsed entirely. The point Richie and Jonathan kept coming back to: Matthew isn’t hiding anything. The Bible doesn’t airbrush its heroes. The genealogy of the King of Kings includes messy, compromised, failing people because that’s the family God chose to work through. The only hero in the story from Genesis 1 to Revelation 22 is God himself. Every human in the line is evidence that God’s grace operates in spite of people, not because of them. They traced the thread further back to Genesis 3:15 — the protoevangelium, the first hint of the gospel — where God promises that the seed of the woman will crush the head of the serpent. That thread runs through Abraham’s covenant, through David’s covenant, through every king in the genealogy whether good or bad, straight through to Matthew’s opening chapter. 66 books, 1,500 years, multiple human authors. One coherent story, because there’s really only one Author.Take Your Next Step The Nations Are Already in Gainesville Jonathan arrived in Gainesville from the Philippines and has been doing international ministry at Westside since 2020. He carries an unusual empathy for international students because he was one. Seven percent of the University of Florida’s enrollment are international students. Twelve percent of Gainesville’s residents are foreign-born. Many of them come for a degree or a work contract, meet Jesus, get discipled, and go home as believers. They came for an education. They leave ready for the mission field. The word for that is “glocal” — local initiatives with global impact. Someone discipled in Gainesville, Florida goes home to Vietnam or South Korea or Japan and takes the gospel with them. This week, new friends from Vietnam, South Korea, and Japan. Usually India and China. This fall, the nations look a little different. Also in this episode Jonathan’s earpiece wouldn’t fit his right ear during the 9:30 service — he had to be handed a mic mid-sermon and suspects the earpiece was molded after Pastor David’s right ear specifically Richie’s blooper: the announcement video where Richie shoots basketball shots to promote three upcoming events. Every shot went in. None of them were Richie’s. Shoutout to Jack Harrington, youth student and three-point specialist, who made all of them during the film shoot Jonathan not being picked for his junior high class basketball team — 15 boys, needed 12, Jonathan was one of three left out. He’s been carrying this for 38 years. The Philippines beat Iran AND Jordan in Asia basketball qualifiers. Richie notes this does not include Michael Jordan. Jonathan concurs. Why Does Matthew’s Genealogy Include Sinners and Failures? Matthew’s genealogy in chapter 1 is structured as three groups of 14 generations: Abraham to David, David to the Babylonian exile, and the exile to Jesus. Within this structure, Matthew deliberately includes kings whose reigns were marked by failure, compromise, and outright wickedness. The theological reason is intentional: Matthew is not writing a story about human heroes. He is establishing that Jesus is the rightful King of Kings who descends from the line of David — and the integrity of that genealogy requires including every generation, not just the spiritually successful ones. The Bible does not hide the failures of its figures because the central argument of Scripture is not human faithfulness but divine grace. Frequently asked questions What Is Genesis 3:15 and Why Does It Matter? Genesis 3:15 is often called the protoevangelium — the first gospel. After the fall, God addresses the serpent and says: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.” This is the first hint in Scripture that a specific descendant of Eve will one day defeat the serpent — which the New Testament identifies as Jesus. The promise then narrows progressively: through Abraham’s covenant, through the tribe of Judah, through the Davidic covenant, until Matthew chapter 1 names the specific person that thread was always pointing toward. Every genealogy, every king, every generation in between is part of that thread. Scripture Referenced: Matthew 1 • 2 Chronicles 16 • Genesis 3:15 • Hebrews 12:6 • John 1:1

Westside Gainesville

August 27, 2026 • 11 Minute Read
Why Was the Bible Lost in the Temple?
The high priest found the Bible while renovating the temple. Not rediscovered, not recovered from a library — found, as in it had been completely lost. Somewhere between the 55 years of Manasseh’s reign and the eight-year-old boy who inherited the throne after him, the Book of the Law got put in the rafters and nobody went looking for it. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday was recorded on Gator Day — students back in Gainesville, the energy back in the city — with Beau Martin sitting in for Pastor David Chauncey alongside Pastor Richie Baldwin. Richie preached on Josiah at Southwest. Beau recaps what David preached at the Newberry Road campus. Between the two of them, they cover the whole story: why the Bible got lost, what Josiah did when he found it, and how a man named James’s baptism that Sunday morning was a Josiah-shaped moment. Richie’s Sermon: Surrender, Serve, Saturate Richie’s three-point framework for the Southwest campus sermon moved in a clean progression. First: surrender to the transformation given by God’s word. When Josiah found the Book of the Law and heard it read, he didn’t evaluate it or fact-check it against the existing cultural consensus. He tore his clothes — an ancient sign of grief and repentance — because the word revealed exactly where Judah stood before God, and his heart was tender enough to receive that. Second: serve for greater impact. The word didn’t just change Josiah internally. He read it to all the people of Judah, made a public covenant before God, and then went out and purged the land of idols — not just in Jerusalem, but up into the ruins of the northern kingdom that had been destroyed a hundred years earlier. At the end of the sermon, Richie turned on every bulb in the Alachua sign that Southwest had deliberately dimmed. That’s what he wanted the church to do: saturate their world with what they’d received. Third: saturate the world with the word. He pointed to Isaiah 59 — Isaiah, who was warning Manasseh during his worst years, who could see the injustice and corruption and knew judgment was coming — and to the greater king even than Josiah that Isaiah could see arriving on the horizon. The charge to the church, and especially to the students in the room on Gator Day: be like Josiah. Take the word out. Go on mission.Learn more about Life Groups What David Preached: Seek, Tear Down, Build, Surround Beau’s recap of the Newberry Road campus sermon covered David’s four-point framework through the generational chairs lens he’s used all series: committed, compromised, cultural, collapsed. Josiah inherited the worst possible chair — collapsed, after 55 years of Manasseh and two more of Amon — and reversed it because he was willing to seek God for himself before he fully understood why. David opened with the Second Great Awakening. After the Revolutionary War, church attendance in America dropped from around 45% to somewhere between 5% and 10%. A poll at Harvard found zero students willing to identify as believers. Yale had five. Then Isaac Backus started a prayer meeting. Timothy Dwight became Yale’s president and started preaching in defense of Scripture’s authority. What started with one person became the Second Great Awakening, and the church grew ten times faster than the population. Same pattern as Josiah. It starts with one. The four points: seek God for yourself — Josiah started at 16, before he found the book, because something in him knew things were wrong. Tear down what pulls you back — but know what you’re replacing it with, because a hole is still a hole. Build your life on God’s word — Josiah tore down idols and then found the book at 26, and the book is what told him what to build on instead. Surround yourself with people who will help you — Josiah had Shaphan, Hilkiah, Huldah, Jeremiah, and Zephaniah. He wasn’t doing it alone.How can we pray for you? Why Was the Bible in the Rafters? This is the most surprising question in the whole story, and Richie spent real time on it. The answer, in his reading: the Levites. The priests and Levites were the ones charged with administering God’s word to the people, interceding between the congregation and God. The prophets ran in the opposite direction — bringing God’s voice to the people. But the Levites, beginning with the split kingdom and accelerating through Manasseh’s reign, stopped doing their job. They put the word on a shelf and filled the temple with everything else. Richie traced this thread all the way from Judges 19 — the grotesque collapse of a Levite at the very end of the book of Judges, showing how far the priests had already fallen before Israel even had kings — to Ezekiel 22 and 34, where God pronounces specific judgment on the shepherds who failed to feed the people. The breadcrumbs were there the whole time. Hilkiah finding the book in the temple isn’t a random discovery. It’s the providence of God routing his word around the people who were supposed to guard it, to get it into Josiah’s hands. “The Josiahs of the world had to find it. Praise God that he found a way to get him his word — but you have failed in so many ways.” — Pastor Richie Baldwin (summarizing Ezekiel’s charge to the Levites) Deconstruction vs. Tearing Down Idols Beau asked the question directly: what’s the difference between what Josiah was doing — tearing down idols, reforming the culture, removing what his grandfathers built — and what gets called deconstruction today? From the outside, the actions look the same. Richie’s answer went to Romans 12:2: do not be conformed, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind. The problem with deconstruction, as it’s most often practiced, is that it handles the nonconformity part without the transformation. Something gets removed. Nothing gets put in its place. A hole is still a hole. Josiah tore down the Baals and found the book. He knew what he was building on. The dangerous version is when someone dismantles biblical morality, marriage, or the gospel itself — thinking they’re removing hypocrisy, but actually removing the foundation. Richie applied it to his own story: he came from the Roman Catholic tradition and had real things he needed to deconstruct about what the church had taught him. But he did it by holding everything up against Scripture and asking what God’s word actually said. The rock stays. The idols go. Ephesians 2:20–21 is the frame: the whole structure is built on the cornerstone of Jesus Christ, and it’s in him that everything is joined together. Why Huldah and Not Jeremiah? When Josiah’s people needed to inquire of God, they went to Huldah — a prophetess, wife of the royal wardrobe keeper, living in Jerusalem — and not to Jeremiah, who was active during Josiah’s reign and would go on to write the longest book in the Bible by word count. Beau asked why. Richie’s honest answer: Jeremiah may have been more prominent after Josiah, not during. Things were going relatively well under Josiah. The prophets who speak most clearly in crisis tend to surface when things get worse, and Jeremiah’s heaviest work came during and after the exile. Huldah was well-respected, clearly heard from God, and gave Josiah exactly what he needed: confirmation that God had heard his tender heart and was giving Judah more time. Frederick Douglass and a Sunday School Class of 40 People Richie’s addition to Beau’s Second Great Awakening recap was Frederick Douglass — a man who didn’t even know his own birthday. As a slave, the first thing Douglass wanted when he learned to read was the New Testament, because he didn’t just believe slavery was wrong. He wanted to know what God’s word said about it. He started teaching 40 people — fellow slaves, meeting in secret for a Sunday school class — and that circle eventually multiplied into one of the most influential voices in American history, including a close advisory relationship with Abraham Lincoln. The through-line Richie drew: Josiah changes things starting with the word. Frederick Douglass changes things starting with the word. The Second Great Awakening changes things starting with one person who was obedient to the word. The pattern is the same every time. James and David | The Baptism That Closed the Episode Beau closed the episode by telling the story of a baptism from the 9:30 service that morning. A man named James, who grew up with a not-so-good spiritual legacy — physical abuse, the foster care system, no model of what a functional family looked like. Through a series of events, he got a job working for a company that made him feel like family. He started seeing what a dinner table without yelling looked like. He eventually gave his life to Christ and was baptized that morning by David. Josiah looked back to David as the committed chair — the model he couldn’t find in his own family tree. James looked back to David as the model he didn’t have either. The parallel wasn’t planned. It was just the story of a Sunday.Westside Stories Also in this episode Gator Day Sunday at Westside — the energy of welcome week, students back in Gainesville, overflow at Southwest The generational chairs (committed → compromised → cultural → collapsed) and how Josiah entered the throne at the collapsed point Richie’s observation that the story of Josiah’s sons shows how quickly revival can be reversed — his first son after him “put the word back on the shelf” within a few years Psalm 72 as the messianic psalm the people were praying — begging for a king who would actually be just — and how verse 17 points all the way to Christ Richie fell in the baptistery on Sunday. He got a very cold bath. Why Was the Bible Lost in the Temple During Josiah’s Reign? The most likely explanation, according to most scholars, is the failure of the Levitical priesthood. The Levites were charged with administering God’s word to the people — keeping the law, instructing the nation, maintaining the temple’s integrity. Through successive generations of compromise, particularly during the 55-year reign of Manasseh, the priests appear to have set aside the Torah and allowed the temple to be filled with pagan worship objects instead. The book wasn’t destroyed — it was neglected. When Hilkiah found it during Josiah’s renovation of the temple, it was still there, simply unread and forgotten. Ezekiel 34 records God’s later indictment of the shepherds who failed to feed the flock: a pattern that began long before Josiah and contributed directly to the conditions he inherited. Frequently asked questions What Is the Difference Between Deconstructing Your Faith and Tearing Down Idols? Josiah’s reform and what gets called “deconstruction” today can look similar from the outside — both involve removing things that have been built up over time. The critical difference is what happens next. Josiah tore down the idols and built on the word of God — he knew what he was replacing them with. Deconstruction, as often practiced, removes things without identifying what to build on instead. Romans 12:2 captures the biblical framework: do not be conformed to the world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind. Both halves are required. Removing false things is part of the Christian life. But the cornerstone — Jesus Christ himself (Ephesians 2:20) — is not one of the things available for removal. Anything built on something other than that cornerstone, or built on nothing at all, is not reformation. It’s collapse. Who Was Huldah the Prophetess in the Bible? Huldah appears in 2 Kings 22 and 2 Chronicles 34 as the prophetess consulted when Josiah’s officials found the Book of the Law. She was the wife of Shallum, keeper of the royal wardrobe, and lived in the Second Quarter of Jerusalem. When the king’s delegation brought the newly found book to her, she responded with a direct word from God: judgment on Judah was coming because of the nation’s idolatry, but because Josiah’s heart was tender and he had humbled himself before God, he would not see the coming disaster in his lifetime. Huldah is one of seven female prophets recognized in the Old Testament and is notable for being consulted directly by the royal court, which suggests her prophetic authority was well established and trusted in Jerusalem. Scripture Referenced: 2 Kings 22 • 2 Chronicles 34 • Isaiah 59 • Psalm 72 • Psalm 110 • Romans 12:2 • Ephesians 2:20–21 • John 15 • Ezekiel 34 • Habakkuk 1–2

Westside Gainesville

August 20, 2026 • 8 Minute Read
The Flaw That Ruined a Good King's Legacy
Jehoshaphat was one of the genuinely good kings. He inherited a solid foundation from his father Asa and didn't coast on it. He sent officials and Levites throughout all of Judah specifically to teach God’s word to the people. It says the fear of God fell on the surrounding nations. For 25 years, he led well. He had one flaw. He was a people-pleaser. And when Ahab, one of the worst kings in Israel’s history, invited him in close and then pressured him to go to war, Jehoshaphat went. Even though God’s prophet told him not to. Even though it nearly cost him his life. And when Jehoshaphat came home, his son inherited everything, including the alliance with Ahab’s family. This week’s What We Didn’t Say on Sunday features Pastor Richie Baldwin alongside a first-time guest, Pastor Lukas High, Westside’s Youth Pastor, who preached the Newberry Road campus on Sunday while Pastor David was in Atlanta for a wedding. Both Richie and Lukas preached on 2 Chronicles 17–20 as part of the Kingdom Family series. Teach It, Model It, Choose Your People Lucas preached three movements from Jehoshaphat’s reign. First: Kingdom Families teach faith intentionally. One of the first things Jehoshaphat did as king in his third year of 25 was send the very best people — officials, priests, Levites — throughout all of Judah with the book of the law. He didn’t call people to come to a conference in Jerusalem. He sent them out into the towns. “Faith must be intentionally taught, not passively assumed” — and Jehoshaphat didn’t assume it even though his father Asa had led well. Second: Kingdom Families model faith publicly. Jehoshaphat’s faith wasn’t confined to his private prayer life. There were public prayers, heartfelt and real, and a public fast. The next generation doesn’t just need to hear what you believe. They need to see it where the rubber meets the road. Third — and this is where Jehoshaphat fell short: Kingdom Families support faith relationally. He taught the right truth but tolerated the wrong influence in his own life. His alliance with Ahab came before his son’s decisions came. The point Lucas made to parents in the room: before we look at the influences in our kids’ lives, it’s worth looking honestly at the influences in ours.Learn more about Life Groups Don’t Fear Man, Fear God, and Find Your Micaiahs Richie honed in on 2 Chronicles 18 — the one chapter where Jehoshaphat’s people-pleasing identity shows up most clearly. He laid out what that identity actually looks like in practice: fear of rejection, chronic overcommitment, an inability to say no, imposter syndrome, constant second-guessing, and living with one eye on what will make others happy rather than what conviction says is right. The Spider-Man illustration landed: Peter Parker can’t figure out how to be both Peter Parker and Spider-Man, because he’s trying to please people in both identities — and they demand different things. Jehoshaphat is dealing with the same thing. He knows what he believes. He just can’t hold the line when Ahab turns up the pressure. Second point: your identity is in Christ, therefore fear God. Richie pointed to Micaiah — the one prophet who told Ahab the truth when 400 others were telling him what he wanted to hear. Micaiah gets slapped in the face in front of two kings. He gets imprisoned. He still doesn’t change his word. He had Micaiahs. Third point: have Micaiahs in your life. People who love you enough to tell you the truth before you make a Jehoshaphat-level mistake. They exist. You have to let them actually speak.How can we pray for you? What Doesn’t Get Said: Finishing Well One of the things Lukas couldn’t cover on Sunday: both Asa and Jehoshaphat — two genuinely good kings — ended their lives on a negative note. The text is specific about it. Asa, in his final years, stopped trusting God and trusted physicians instead when his leg went bad. Jehoshaphat’s last chapter closes with a rebuke and a failure. Both go down in history as good kings. But the last thing their sons saw was something less than that. There’s a Fuller Youth Institute study — around 3,000 teenagers surveyed — that asked who shapes their faith most. Parents came first. What’s less expected: grandparents came second. Not friends, not pastors. Grandparents. Even if grandparents don’t know it. Even if they think they’ve aged past the point where their lives are still shaping anyone. They haven’t. Finishing well isn’t about performing to the end. It’s about running the race in a way that the next generation actually sees how you ran it. Also in this episode Lukas High’s first appearance on the podcast — his intro, his ministry with middle and high schoolers, and the kids who gifted the WWDSOS mugs and coastas (cajun for coasters) Elijah at his lowest — right after calling fire down from heaven in 1 Kings 18, he begged God to let him die in 1 Kings 19. That’s what Ahab’s reign did to prophets. Micaiah getting slapped in the face in front of two kings and not changing his word Paul confronting Peter to his face in Galatians — a New Testament Micaiah moment The children’s announcement video at Newberry Road — Aubrey said he had nothing to follow it with, so they just quoted Isaiah 40:8 and ended the service Richie’s second service: accidentally called Jehoshaphat “Josiah” and Ahab “Abraham.” As in, “Abraham is the worst guy in the Bible” — one of the best guys, corrected immediately What Does the Bible Say About People-Pleasing? People-pleasing — the fear of man over the fear of God — is a thread that runs through both Testaments. Jehoshaphat’s failure in 2 Chronicles 18 shows how even a genuinely godly king can compromise his convictions when someone powerful enough applies pressure. The pattern in Scripture is consistent: identity in Christ produces freedom from the approval of people, while identity in human approval produces fear of rejection, compromised decisions, and a faith that gets quietly undermined. Galatians 1:10 captures Paul’s own settled answer: “If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.” That’s not a personality trait. It’s a theological position. Frequently asked questions Why Did Jehoshaphat Make an Alliance With Ahab? 2 Chronicles 18 doesn’t fully explain Jehoshaphat’s motivation, but the text gives clues. Ahab was powerful and administratively successful — he had made Israel prosperous, even if the cost was spiritual corruption. He hosted Jehoshaphat with a large feast and a show of generosity. And Jehoshaphat may have genuinely been trying to secure peace between the northern and southern kingdoms through a marriage alliance. But the prophet Jehu’s rebuke after Jehoshaphat returned home makes the problem clear: the motivation doesn’t sanctify the decision. Allying with someone whose trajectory is against God is dangerous regardless of the short-term benefits, and the cost was eventually borne by Jehoshaphat’s son. Who Was Micaiah in the Bible? Micaiah is a prophet who appears in 1 Kings 22 and 2 Chronicles 18. When Ahab wanted to go to war and consulted 400 prophets who all told him what he wanted to hear, Jehoshaphat asked if there was any other prophet of God. Micaiah was brought in and told the truth: the battle would be a disaster and Ahab would die. He was slapped by one of the other prophets and imprisoned on Ahab’s orders. Ahab died in the battle anyway, exactly as Micaiah had said. Micaiah represents the rare person in your life who loves you enough to tell the truth at personal cost. The spiritual discipline Richie called for: find people like that and let them actually speak into your decisions. How Do You Teach Faith to the Next Generation? Jehoshaphat’s approach in 2 Chronicles 17 offers a framework that translates directly. He taught intentionally — not assuming that faith would be absorbed passively, but actively sending people with God’s word into every community. He modeled faith publicly — prayer and fasting that the next generation could actually see, not just hear about. And he built community relationally, though here is where he fell short by allying too closely with someone whose life moved away from God. A Fuller Youth Institute study of approximately 3,000 teenagers found that parents are the single most influential voice in a teenager’s faith — and that teenagers themselves report this even if they don’t say it out loud at home. Grandparents ranked second, ahead of friends, pastors, or anyone else.. Scripture Referenced: 2 Chronicles 17–20 • 2 Chronicles 18 • 1 Kings 16:33 • 1 Kings 18–19 • Galatians 1:10 • Galatians 2:20 • 1 Corinthians 11:1 • Deuteronomy 4:10 • 2 Timothy 1:5

Westside Gainesville

August 6, 2026 • 9 Minute Read
What does "Fear God and Keep His Commandments" mean? | Ecclesiastes 12
Ecclesiastes spends twelve chapters testing nearly every place people look for meaning. At the end, Solomon does not offer one more experiment. He gives a verdict: fear God and keep His commandments. Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin approach that ending from different directions. One follows the movement from God as Creator to Judge to Savior. The other compares Solomon’s “whole of man” with Aristotle’s search for human flourishing. Then the conversation moves through dead-end roads, French fry po’ boys, information overload, death scrolling, and the question underneath all of it: What are you going to do with Jesus? The final verdict is not a scorecard David’s sermon began with God as Creator. If God created us, then our lives are not accidents. We were made for a reason, and that means the choices we make with our lives matter. But Ecclesiastes does not stop with a Creator. Solomon also describes a Judge who will bring every deed into judgment, including the things done in secret. That turns the question of purpose into a question of accountability. It is not only whether our lives matter. Every thought, word, and action matters to God. That is where Ecclesiastes leaves us needing an answer Solomon could not yet see clearly. If God is Creator and Judge, we need Him to be Savior too. The ending of Ecclesiastes does not tell us to assemble a good-enough record. It exposes why we need Jesus. “The final verdict really on your life is: what are you going to do with Jesus?” — Pastor David ChaunceyLearn more about Baptism What “the whole of man” means Richie connected Solomon’s conclusion with Aristotle’s search for eudaimonia—human flourishing or fulfillment. Aristotle tried to work toward the good life through philosophy and virtue. Solomon, after testing wisdom, pleasure, work, wealth, and power, ends somewhere else. “Fear God and keep His commandments,” he writes, “for this is the whole duty of man.” Richie notes that the Hebrew idea is closer to “the whole of man.” This is not merely one religious duty added to an otherwise self-directed life. A life ordered around God is what human beings were created for. It is where our purpose, identity, obedience, and fulfillment finally come together. “This is the wholeness of man. It is your fulfillment.” — Pastor Richie BaldwinHow can we pray for you? Why God’s words sometimes hurt Ecclesiastes describes wise words as goads. A goad was a sharp tool used to keep an animal from wandering toward danger. It corrected by making the wrong direction uncomfortable. That is not a particularly sentimental picture of Scripture. Richie’s point was that God’s Word does not exist merely to affirm whatever direction we already want to go. Sometimes it confronts us. Sometimes Jesus says something that presses directly against our desires, priorities, or assumptions. The discomfort is not evidence that the words are bad. It may be evidence that they are keeping us from the wolves. “Jesus is always good, but very often He’s not nice. His words are like goads.” — Pastor Richie Baldwin Scripture: Acts 26:14; John 10:14-16 Faith and obedience belong together “Fear God” and “keep His commandments” can sound like competing ideas. Are we accepted because we trust God, or because we obey Him? Richie connects the two through the language Westside uses at baptism: Is Jesus Christ your Lord and Savior? We trust Jesus as Savior because our obedience will never be perfect. We confess Him as Lord because saving faith does not leave us determined to remain in rebellion. Obedience does not purchase salvation. It is the response of someone who believes Jesus is alive, trustworthy, and worthy of being followed. There is grace for every failure. There is also a new direction. Scripture: Romans 1:16-17; Romans 10:9-10 Enjoy your life. Invest your life. David summarized part of Ecclesiastes with two invitations: enjoy your life and invest your life. Solomon is not against food, work, relationships, laughter, or ordinary pleasures. He repeatedly tells us to receive them as gifts. The warning comes when a good gift is asked to become our god. David looked back on his younger years and admitted he would have worried less. He would have more aggressively enjoyed the life God gave him. But he also would have started investing earlier—not only financially, but spiritually. Time spent learning Scripture, growing in Christ, and building strong relationships with other believers produces a return that becomes clearer over decades. “You can enjoy life without enjoying sin.” — Pastor David ChaunceyInvest in the Mission of WestsideTake Your Next Step The one road that is not a dead end Every road Solomon tested eventually reached the same destination. Wealth ends. Pleasure fades. Work gets handed to someone else. Even wisdom cannot keep a person from dying. That does not mean the journey has no joy. It means none of those roads can carry the weight of eternity. Richie illustrates the problem with a New Orleans French fried potato po’ boy: French fries piled onto French bread, covered with roast beef gravy and mayonnaise, with lettuce and tomato added as the alleged low-calorie option. It can make you happy. It may also be the sort of happiness that sends you toward cholesterol medication. The sandwich is funny. The point underneath it is not. Pleasure can be received as a gift without becoming the purpose of life. Jesus is not simply a healthier option among several possible roads. He is the one road that does not terminate in death. Why more information has not made us wiser Solomon warns that “of making many books there is no end,” and that much study wearies the body. The problem is not learning. Ecclesiastes is itself a book of wisdom. The problem is trying to build a stable life from an endless stream of unstable voices. We now carry more ideas, arguments, entertainment, opinions, and breaking news than Solomon could have imagined. We can move from one answer to another every fifteen seconds and still feel less certain than when we started. David called it information overload. Richie described being told by his neurologist not to “death scroll” while his brain recovered from an injury. The endless feed was not neutral. It was training his mind. Technology can be a blessing. Podcasts can be a blessing. Books can be a blessing. But they are not Scripture, and none of them can replace abiding in the words of Jesus. Knowing wisdom is not the same as living wisely One of the unsettling parts of Solomon’s story is the distance between what he knew and how he lived. He could write wise words while making decisions that contradicted them. That distance is not only Solomon’s problem. Christians can know what patience looks like and still speak carelessly. We can explain forgiveness while holding a grudge. We can understand generosity and remain afraid to give. Knowledge matters, but knowledge by itself cannot transform us. This is why the wisdom books keep bringing us back. Proverbs shows the patterns of wise living. Ecclesiastes helps when life refuses to follow the expected pattern. Job speaks when everything collapses despite our faithfulness. Psalms give us words to pray through all of it. Song of Solomon celebrates covenant love. Together, they remind us that wisdom is not information we master once. It is a life of repeatedly returning to God. Also in this episode Aristotle, eudaimonia, and Solomon’s very different definition of human flourishing Why the wise words of Ecclesiastes are compared to goads The connection between one Shepherd in Ecclesiastes and Jesus in John 10 How Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Job, Psalms, and Song of Solomon work together Richie’s French fried potato po’ boy and its questionable nutritional legacy David’s thoughts on enjoying youth without wasting it Why long-form podcasts can still work in a short-attention-span culture Intentional sermon bloopers involving po’ boys, aging, teeth, and senior discounts A preview of the upcoming Kingdom Family series What does it mean to fear God and keep His commandments? To fear God in Ecclesiastes 12:13 means responding to God with reverent trust, submission, and obedience because He is Creator and Judge. Keeping His commandments is not a way to earn salvation; it is the lived response of someone who trusts Him. Ecclesiastes reveals both our purpose and our accountability, while the New Testament shows why we need Jesus as Savior when our obedience falls short. Christian purpose is therefore not self-created happiness, but a life ordered around God and restored through Christ. Frequently asked questions Does fearing God mean being afraid of Him? The fear of God includes taking His holiness, authority, and judgment seriously, but it is more than panic or terror. In Ecclesiastes 12, fearing God means trusting Him enough to place your life under His authority. For a Christian, that reverence exists alongside confidence in God’s grace through Jesus. Does keeping God’s commandments save you? No. The episode distinguishes obedience from earning salvation. Christians are saved through faith in Jesus, not by producing a perfect record of commandment-keeping. Obedience follows salvation as a response to Jesus as Lord, while His grace covers the ways believers still fall short. What is “the whole duty of man” in Ecclesiastes 12:13? Ecclesiastes 12:13 concludes that humanity’s purpose is to fear God and keep His commandments. Richie notes that the Hebrew expression can be understood as “the whole of man,” emphasizing that life with God is not one isolated religious responsibility. It is the integrated purpose for which human beings were made. How does Ecclesiastes 12 point to Jesus? Ecclesiastes ends with humanity accountable before a Creator and Judge. That is good news only if God also provides a Savior, because no person keeps His commands perfectly. The New Testament reveals Jesus as the one who bears judgment for sinners, restores them to God, and leads them into the life Solomon was searching for. Did Solomon write Ecclesiastes? Ecclesiastes presents its Teacher as a son of David who possessed extraordinary wisdom, wealth, and royal experience, which has traditionally led readers to identify him as Solomon. Some scholars propose that a later writer or “school of Solomon” preserved and presented the material. David and Richie consider Solomon the most likely author while acknowledging that the authorship question is debated. Scripture Referenced: Ecclesiastes 9:4; Ecclesiastes 9:7–10; Ecclesiastes 12:1–14; Proverbs; Job; Psalms; Song of Solomon; Acts 9:4–5; Acts 26:14; John 3; John 8:31–32; John 10:14–16; John 14:6; Romans 1:16–17; Romans 3; Romans 6:23; Romans 7:15–25; Romans 10:9–10; 1–2 Kings; 1–2 Chronicles

Westside Gainesville

July 30, 2026 • 10 Minute Read
The Safety Switch That Made the Explosion Happen
Horace wrote Carpe Diem around 60 BC. Most people know it as “seize the day.” That’s the part they quote. What they leave off is the rest of the phrase: “and put no trust in tomorrow.” Which is almost word-for-word Ecclesiastes 9. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday covers Ecclesiastes 9:1–10, the chapter Richie calls the nadir — the lowest point of the whole book. Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin each preached this passage at their respective campuses last Sunday, and spent the podcast unpacking how Chernobyl, a Horace poem, and a caterpillar all point somewhere beyond Solomon. The Dilemma of Ecclesiastes 9 David framed chapter 9 as the “human dilemma” in four movements. Our plans are unreliable — Solomon says the hearts of men are full of evil. Our people are unreliable — the unrighteous surround us. Our power is unreliable — we end up like fish caught in a net, not lions we imagined ourselves to be. And even our pleasures are unreliable — they decrease over time, become addictive, and deliver less than promised. The famous line from this section: “it’s better to be a live dog than a dead lion.” David connected it to the Greek world through The Odyssey, which he and his wife had just seen in theaters. The Homeric parallel he kept coming back to: the Greek pantheon is humanity’s way of trying to manage the randomness of reality. Give offerings to the god of the sea. Hope Athena’s on your side. Build elaborate systems to control what you fundamentally can’t. Solomon’s point is the same thing, only from a monotheist who’s already tried all the Greek alternatives on his own: every plan, every human institution, every pleasure-seeking strategy eventually fails. Not because God is absent, but because none of these things are God. What Richie Preached: The AZ-5 Switch Richie built his sermon on Chernobyl — specifically the AZ-5 safety switch. The Soviet reactor design had a fundamental flaw that was known since the mid-1970s. Documents were redacted. No one admitted it. When the safety test at Chernobyl went wrong on April 26, 1986, operators pressed the AZ-5 switch — the switch designed to stop the reaction. But the graphite tips on the control rods actually accelerated the explosion before slowing it. The safety switch triggered the disaster. The metaphor Richie drew from it: the enemy wants you to press a switch that doesn’t work. The lie of the enemy — going back to Eden: “Did God really say you’re going to die?” — is the same lie. Trust yourself. Trust your flesh. The switch will hold. It won’t. “Every lie we tell incurs a debt to the truth. Sooner or later, that debt must be paid.” — Professor Legasov, Chernobyl (HBO) The three-point structure of Richie’s sermon: Death is certain (Romans 5:12 — sin came in through one man, death through sin). Death is only meaningful in Jesus (Ecclesiastes 9:7–10 — seize the day, because the day is given by God). Our ultimate hope is Jesus Christ (Romans 5:19 — through one man’s obedience, many will be made righteous). He ended with a scene from the HBO miniseries: a government official, complicit in covering up the truth, sitting outside the Chernobyl trial during recess. A caterpillar crawls onto his leg. He stops. He just watches it. He says, softly, “How beautiful.” Then he goes back in and tells the truth. Richie asked the congregation to notice something beautiful — and then offered the Lord’s Supper as the most beautiful thing he could give them.How can we pray for you? What David Preached: Seize This Day, Not Tomorrow David started with Horace and Carpe Diem — which he learned, as most people did, through Dead Poets Society. He wanted to show a clip of Robin Williams saying it. He did not show the clip. This was wise, because by the second service he had accidentally attributed the quote to Matt Damon in Dead Poets Society (Matt Damon was not in Dead Poets Society — he was in Good Will Hunting, which also featured Robin Williams but is a completely different film). A kind person in the congregation set him straight afterward. The relevant point that survived the blooper: Horace’s full phrase is “Carpe Diem, quam minimum credula postero” — seize the day, put as little trust as possible in tomorrow. That’s not how the phrase is usually quoted. It’s also almost exactly what Solomon says in Ecclesiastes 9:7–10. Ecclesiastes 9:7–10 — “Go, eat your bread with joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart, for God has already approved what you do. Let your garments be always white. Let not oil be lacking on your head. Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun.” David’s four reversals from the gospel: where Solomon finds plans unreliable, God had a plan before the foundation of the world (Ephesians 1). Where people are unrighteous, God provides the one unrighteous-free Savior. Where pleasure fails, God provides pleasures that last forever. Where power collapses, God’s power cannot be stopped. He also pointed to Ecclesiastes 9:13–16 — the story of the little wise man in the city. An unheralded wise man could have delivered the whole city, if anyone had listened. David reads it as a gospel picture Solomon couldn’t have fully seen: the one unheralded wise man, Jesus, can deliver anyone who’ll listen. What Is Sheol? Ecclesiastes 9:10 mentions Sheol — “there is no work or thought or knowledge or wisdom in Sheol, to which you are going” — and the episode spends a good stretch unpacking what that actually means, since most people think Sheol = hell. It doesn’t. Sheol, in Old Testament Hebrew, is the place of the dead — not a place of torment, but a kind of shadowy realm of departed spirits. The Greeks called it Hades. By the intertestamental period, a distinction emerged between Sheol proper and Abraham’s bosom (or Paradise) — where the faithful dead were said to rest. This is the picture in Jesus’s parable of the rich man and Lazarus: Lazarus is in Abraham’s bosom, the rich man is in torment, and there’s a great chasm between them that can’t be crossed. Hell, in the New Testament sense — Gehenna, the lake of fire, eternal separation from God — is the final state after the resurrection and the great white throne judgment in Revelation 20. David’s read: the lake of fire isn’t “open” yet in the current age, in the sense that the final judgment hasn’t occurred. The intermediate state (between death and resurrection) is where departed souls currently exist. What Solomon sees in Ecclesiastes is the threshold of this: he knows Sheol is coming, he can’t see fully past it, and he calls for the fear of God as the only reasonable response. Progressive revelation — the gradual unfolding of Scripture — is what makes Ecclesiastes make sense. Solomon thirsted for the gospel without having the full gospel yet. The Chernobyl Prayer and the Lord’s Supper Richie closed his sermon with a passage from the book Chernobyl Prayer by Svetlana Alexievich — the account of a firefighter’s wife who stayed at his bedside as he died of radiation poisoning over 14 days, while pregnant. Their baby was born stillborn, lived only a few minutes, and the radiation that had been spreading through the mother’s body was drawn into the baby instead, protecting her. The line Richie quoted: “I don’t know what to tell you about death or love. Is it the same thing?” From there, straight into John 3:16 and the Lord’s Supper. God so loved the world that his Son would die for it. Death and love. It is, in Solomon’s terms, the one act of beauty that answers everything he couldn’t resolve.Get BaptizedTake Your Next Step Also in this episode Pastor David’s 36th wedding anniversary — and his accidental comment about his wife being “really large” during her twin pregnancy Richie’s wife, sleeping beautifully in a chair on a Saturday — with her mouth open (he almost said snoring) The Odyssey (Christopher Nolan) — Richie and Rebecca spent all of Friday night after the movie talking about how much it paralleled Ecclesiastes The Rest Is History podcast — Tom Holland the historian (not Spider-Man) did a two-episode Odyssey walkthrough that David recommends before seeing the film Dead Poets Society vs. Good Will Hunting — the complete conflation of two Robin Williams movies, corrected by a kind congregation member after second service Next week (if the Lord wills): Ecclesiastes 12, the finale of The American Experiment series What Does Carpe Diem Mean in the Bible? Carpe Diem, from the Latin poet Horace (around 60 BC), means “seize the day” — but the full phrase continues: “put as little trust as possible in tomorrow.” Ecclesiastes 9:7–10 captures essentially the same idea: eat and drink with joy, enjoy life with the wife you love, because these days are given by God and the activity of this present life doesn’t continue in Sheol. The text isn’t endorsing hedonism — it’s recognizing that ordinary daily life, enjoyed with gratitude and within God’s design, is itself God’s gift in the face of death’s certainty. What Is Sheol in the Bible? Sheol is the Hebrew word for the realm of the dead as understood in the Old Testament. It’s not identical to hell. It’s better understood as the intermediate state — the place all the dead go, believers and unbelievers alike, to await the resurrection. The Greek equivalent is Hades. In the New Testament, Jesus’s parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16) introduces a distinction within this realm: Abraham’s bosom (also called Paradise) is where the righteous dead rest, while the unrighteous experience torment. The final state — eternal separation from God in the lake of fire — is described in Revelation 20 as following the great white throne judgment at the end of the age. What Does Ecclesiastes 9 Say About Death? Ecclesiastes 9:1–6 presents death as the great equalizer — righteous and wicked, good and evil, clean and unclean all share the same fate under the sun. Solomon isn’t saying there’s no God or no judgment; he’s saying that from a purely human vantage point, the certainty of death relativizes every earthly advantage. His response in 9:7–10 is not despair but gratitude: enjoy the life God has given, because your participation in this world is finite and the life you’re living right now is a gift. The New Testament brings the resolution Solomon could only taste: through Christ’s death and resurrection, death no longer has the final word (Romans 5:12–19, 1 Corinthians 15). Scripture Referenced: Ecclesiastes 9:1–10 • Ecclesiastes 9:13–16 • Romans 5:12 • Romans 5:19 • Romans 6:23 • Ephesians 1 • John 3:16 • John 4:34 • Luke 16:19–31 • Revelation 20 • James 4:13–15

Westside Gainesville

July 23, 2026 • 10 Minute Read
Why Does the Bible Have a Whole Book About Meaninglessness?
David opened his chapter 3 sermon by telling the congregation that God is really a problem. Pause. Long, awkward pause. Then: “because if God exists and he’s your Creator, you have somebody to answer to.” It’s a pretty good way to open a sermon on Ecclesiastes. The whole book is built on that kind of tension — honest, uncomfortable, nowhere to hide. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday picks back up after the youth camp break with Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin covering what they preached through chapters 2 and 3 of the most honest book in the Bible. What Richie Preached: Work, Identity, and What You’re Actually Leaving Behind Richie’s recap of Ecclesiastes 2 moved in three directions. First: leave an enduring legacy. Solomon’s whole anxiety in chapter 2 is that everything he’s built is going to get handed to whoever comes after him — and he already knows that’s going to be Rehoboam, who would proceed to split the kingdom in half. The charge Richie drew from that: don’t let your work define what you leave. Let Christ define it. Whatever job you’re in, do it as a disciple-maker. He also made an intentional blooper at the start of his sermon, telling the congregation to quit their jobs. He meant it exactly the way he said it: stay where you work, but change why you’re there. Your job is the context. Discipleship is the mission. Second: be liberated from work as your identity. Solomon’s striving — all the “I, me, I, me” pronouns stacking up through chapter 2 — brought him sorrow and vexation even at night. When your identity is in what you produce, you’re on a roller coaster. And all kinds of things in the world can knock you off it, including just losing your job on Friday before Richie preaches about it on Sunday — which actually happened. Third: live in the grace of God. Work itself isn’t the curse. It was in the garden before the fall — God put Adam there to work it and keep it. The curse is the thorns that came with it. So the goal isn’t less work; it’s work aimed at something that outlasts it. Colossians 3:23Find a Community of Believers What David Preached: Seasons, Scores, and Dust David preached chapter 3 on his birthday, with his first granddaughter a few weeks old. He opened with Kansas’s “Dust in the Wind” — probably the most Ecclesiastes-adjacent song in the classic rock canon — and titled the sermon “We’re More Than Dust in the Wind.” The song gets the hopelessness right. The sermon is about where it goes wrong. Three movements. First: God is sovereign over my seasons. Looking back over the chapter’s list — birth and death, planting and uprooting, weeping and laughing, war and peace — David’s read is that Solomon’s point isn’t that life is random. It’s that no single season tells the whole story. You can get stuck in a good season (thinking it’ll last) or a bad one (thinking it won’t end). Ecclesiastes says: recognize the season you’re in, be faithful in it, and trust God with the rest. Second: when your labor connects to God’s kingdom, it gets eternalized. Whatever David does at Westside for however many years — it may seem like it disappears. But kingdom work, he said, creates ripples beyond the sun. It’s work that God’s sustaining hand is on. Third: God will settle every score. Ecclesiastes 3 ends with something uncomfortable — the recognition that there’s injustice where there should be justice, and Solomon says God’s going to have to sort that out. David walked that straight into the gospel: if God settles every score, he’s got one to settle with each of us. It gets settled either at the great white throne or at the cross. That’s not a threat. That’s an invitation. Knowing what time it is One of the threads that ran through both sermons and most of their conversation: knowing what season you’re in and doing the right thing with it. David mentioned a podcast and a book he wants to read on how to “die well” — not in a hospice sense, but how to spend the last 10 or 20 years giving away what you’ve accumulated in wisdom, relationship, and faith rather than holding onto it. He told the story of doing a funeral for a 92-year-old man. Afterward, the widow, who was 96, asked David if he’d do hers too when the time came. Then she said, almost offhandedly: “I just cannot believe how fast 96 years went.” The practical application, especially from Richie: know what time it is for you right now. A young mother with two kids under three has a different most-impactful use of herself than someone who’s built an organization for 30 years and has wisdom to pour out. The season determines the assignment. “I’ve come to understand God’s going to have to judge this. And the problem with God settling every score is that he’s got a score to settle with me.” — Pastor David Chauncey The wisdom books and where they all go Richie placed Ecclesiastes inside a framework of the five wisdom books — Psalms, Job, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon — that’s worth knowing when you read any of them. Proverbs is normative: if everything is equal and you follow these principles, you’ll probably have a pretty good life. Ecclesiastes is the other book: most likely, things aren’t going to go exactly right, so how do you navigate that? Job is the third book: when nothing goes right, when you’ve done everything correctly and you’re still suffering, where do you bring that? Psalms are 150 prayers covering that same range of human experience. Song of Solomon is the one about love. The point: you can’t read one in isolation. And you can’t read Ecclesiastes in isolation either — it’s intended to be read front to back. Pull one verse out of the middle and you can walk away with a genuinely sad day. Philip Ryken’s commentary on Ecclesiastes is titled “When Everything Matters” — which is deliberately the opposite of what the book sounds like on the surface. His read: Ecclesiastes isn’t saying nothing matters. It’s showing you that everything matters in God. Wisdom pondering, and wisdom personified David nearly outlined his sermon as “wisdom pondering” — which is what most of Ecclesiastes is. He stepped back from it because it sounded too academic, but the category is exactly right. Solomon is wisdom pondering — asking hard questions, noticing the things nobody wants to name, sitting with uncertainty. It leaves you floating. It’s not until wisdom gets personified that the pondering lands somewhere. In John 1:1, John comes in with what Richie called a right hook: “In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God, and the Logos was God.” The Greek philosophers had been asking what the Logos was — the meaning behind it all — for centuries. Solomon was asking the same question in Hebrew. John just says: it became flesh. You can see it. Touch it. Watch it die and come back. And then Jesus shows up in the gospels presenting himself as everything Ecclesiastes says is missing. I am the bread of life — you’ll never hunger. I am the water of life — you’ll never thirst. I am the resurrection and the life — you’ll never really die. He is, as David put it, the personification of what God has always been trying to give us. “All of this is wisdom pondering. And it’s not until wisdom is personified in the person of Christ that it makes all of this Old Testament pondering make sense.” — Pastor David ChaunceyWatch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step Also in this episode The pebble in the shoe: Ecclesiastes 3:11 says God has put eternity in man’s heart — that restlessness is the pebble you can’t ignore The case for liking the hard questions in Scripture vs. wanting black-and-white answers — David’s honest confession John Piper’s Don’t Waste Your Life and the two retired nurses who died in Cameroon doing exactly what they were made to do Jesus’s Messiah clock — he knew when it was time to build, time to heal, time to wait (Lazarus), and time to stop and start dying Preview: two more chapters of Ecclesiastes to go before fall begins Why Does the Bible Have a Whole Book About Meaninglessness? Ecclesiastes doesn’t actually say everything is meaningless — or at least, that’s not the point. The Hebrew word translated as “vanity” or “meaninglessness” (hebel) literally means “breath” or “mist” — something ephemeral, here and then gone. Solomon is observing that the things people build their lives around under the sun don’t last. They have a kind of unreality to them. But God endures, and therefore work aimed at God endures. Ecclesiastes is less an argument for meaninglessness and more an extended demonstration that meaning can’t be found where most people are looking for it. What Does Ecclesiastes Say About Work? Ecclesiastes 2 wrestles with whether work itself has value, given that everything we build will eventually pass to someone else who may squander it. Solomon’s conclusion isn’t that work is bad — it’s that work as an identity and an ultimate source of meaning will always disappoint. Work that flows from faithfulness to God carries significance beyond what you can see. Colossians 3:23 frames the New Testament version: work heartily as for the Lord, not for men. What matters isn’t the work itself but what it’s aimed at. What Does ‘For Everything There Is a Season’ Mean in Ecclesiastes 3? Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 presents a list of contrasting seasons — birth and death, planting and uprooting, weeping and laughing, war and peace. The point isn’t fatalism or randomness. Solomon is observing that every human experience has its appointed time, and God is sovereign over all of them. The corresponding call is faithfulness in whatever season you’re in, rather than clinging to good seasons or despairing in difficult ones. Ecclesiastes 3:11 adds the key theological note: God has put eternity into the human heart, which explains why no earthly season ever fully satisfies. How Does Ecclesiastes Point to Jesus? Ecclesiastes documents the failure of everything under the sun to provide lasting meaning — pleasure, work, wisdom, achievement, accumulation. It’s a long setup to a question the book never fully answers by itself. Jesus, in the New Testament, presents himself as the direct answer to each of Ecclesiastes’s unresolved questions: the bread of life (you’ll never hunger), the water of life (you’ll never thirst), the resurrection and the life (you’ll never ultimately die). Where Solomon could only ponder the Logos, John 1:1 says the Logos became flesh. Ecclesiastes is wisdom pondering; Jesus is wisdom personified. Scripture Referenced: Ecclesiastes 2 • Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 • Ecclesiastes 3:11 • Ecclesiastes 3:12 • Philippians 3:4–8 • Colossians 3:23 • Matthew 5:16 • Revelation 7 • John 1:1 • Philippians 1:21–23

Westside Gainesville

July 2, 2026 • 8 Minute Read
The Vine, the Branches, and a Newborn Grandbaby
Pastor David’s first grandchild was born on a Thursday. He preached this sermon three days later, and — by his own admission — there was no way it wasn’t going to end up in there somewhere. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday closes out the Values series with John 15 — the vine and the branches — and the fourth value: growth over status quo. Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin talk through what it actually means to abide in Christ, and why “staying where you are” was never really on the table. A Peach on the table David brought a peach into the sanctuary Sunday. Left on the table a few weeks, he said, it doesn’t hold steady — it decays. That’s just how things work when they stop growing. A newborn is the same way, just faster and higher stakes: there’s no such thing as a baby standing still. Maintain isn’t an option. You’re either growing, or you’re going backward. He tied that straight to Jesus’s concern for his disciples in John 15 and 16 — faithfulness, fruitfulness, obedience, joy. Four things Jesus wanted for the people he was about to leave behind, the same way a new grandfather wants them for a baby three days old. Simon, Before he was peter Richie built his sermon around something easy to miss. Jesus’s first words to Simon weren’t “come, follow me” — that came later, maybe a year later, by the Sea of Galilee. The actual first words, back in John 1, were a name: “You are Simon, son of John. You will be called Cephas” — Peter. The rock. And then you watch Peter spend the next three years trying to earn a name he was given before he’d done anything to deserve it. Work, work, work — and Jesus gently correcting him the whole way through, back toward something simpler. Abide. Pruning hurts John 15:1-2 (ESV)“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” Richie pointed out something worth sitting with: the vine image isn’t random. In the Old Testament, the vine was Israel’s national symbol. When Jesus says “I am the true vine,” he’s saying something pointed — I’m what Israel was supposed to be and couldn’t. The Father is the one doing the pruning, and pruning isn’t gentle. It cuts. Richie pulled in C.S. Lewis’s Voyage of the Dawn Treader — the boy who turns into a dragon, and how painful it is when Aslan finally tears the dragon-skin off him. Worth it. Still genuinely painful. That’s pruning. Not punishment — removal of what’s actually hurting you, and it doesn’t feel good while it’s happening. What “Bearing Fruit” Actually Means Richie defined it plainly: bearing fruit is becoming more like Jesus. Not doing more church stuff — character. He went to Galatians 5, where Paul lists it out against the law: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Whatever you’re doing — missions, VBS, winning souls, whatever — none of it means much without the sap actually running through the vine. Christ has to be working in you, or it’s just activity. The lactation consultant David leaned hard into the newborn picture, and it’s a good one even if it got a little PG-13 for a Sunday morning. He can hold his grandbaby. Change a diaper — he’s done ten thousand of those. Protect him, provide for him. What he can’t do is nurse him. There’s exactly one person that baby can draw life from, and he has to latch on to get it. Then he said the quiet part: “I’m sort of your lactation consultant here.” His job on a Sunday is just to help people latch onto God’s word and actually draw from Christ — not produce the life themselves. He can’t give people something he doesn’t have. Whatever shows up on a Sunday morning is just the overflow of however he’s been abiding Monday through Saturday. Is Abiding passive, or is it work? Is abiding something you do, or something that happens to you? The answer? Both, and that’s not a contradiction. Mary, sitting at Jesus’s feet while Martha works herself ragged in the kitchen, isn’t doing nothing. She’s actively listening. Receiving and pursuing aren’t opposites. David tied it to 2 Peter 1 — Peter saying God’s divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness, and then turning around two verses later to say “for this reason, make every effort.” You’ve been given everything. Now go supplement it. Like a nursing baby who eventually needs more than just milk.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step Closing the series: Four Values, ONe thread Richie pulled the whole series together at the end. Prayer over might — don’t just think about it, actually do it. Truth over trend — soak in the word, don’t just nod along. We over me — you can’t abide alone in your house; the church is part of it. Growth over status quo — the same abiding that saves you passively is the abiding you have to actively pursue for the rest of your life. All four values, same root. Jesus saves actively — his life, his death, his resurrection, nothing you contributed. What you do is abide in what he’s already done. What’s Next? The American experiment David gave a heads-up on the next series: Ecclesiastes, five weeks, timed to land around America’s 250th anniversary. He’s calling it “The American Experiment” — Solomon had every form of wealth, wisdom, and power available to a human being, ran the experiment, and reported back that none of it satisfies on its own. David’s read: that’s the same experiment a nation tries, generation after generation. Also in this episode Why Peter’s vision of the unclean animals in Acts 10 was its own kind of pruning — this time of his theology, not just his pride Micah 6:8 and the question “with what shall I come before the Lord” — the move from sacrifice to simply walking humbly Why 24 of the New Testament’s 27 books mention fruitfulness in the believer’s life Luke 22: Jesus telling Simon — not yet Peter — “I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail” What Does It Mean to Abide in Christ? In John 15:4, Jesus says, “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.” To abide means to remain, to stay connected — not a one-time decision but an ongoing relationship sustained through the Spirit, through Scripture, and through the church. It’s less a task to complete and more a connection to maintain, the way a branch stays attached to a vine simply by not detaching. What Does the Vine and Branches Passage in John 15 Mean? Jesus identifies himself as “the true vine” (John 15:1), a title loaded with Old Testament meaning since the vine was a national symbol for Israel. Jesus is saying he accomplishes what Israel as a nation couldn’t. The Father is the vinedresser who prunes branches so they bear more fruit, and removes branches that bear none. The image teaches that spiritual fruitfulness isn’t self-generated — it flows from staying connected to Christ, the way a branch’s life comes from the vine, not from the branch itself. What Does It Mean to Bear Fruit Spiritually? Bearing spiritual fruit means becoming more like Jesus in character, not simply doing more religious activity. Galatians 5:22-23 lists it directly: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Paul contrasts this with law-keeping — fruit isn’t earned through rule-following, it’s produced naturally by abiding in Christ, the same way grapes grow naturally on a healthy, connected branch. Why Did Jesus Rename Simon to Peter? In John 1:42, Jesus tells Simon, “You will be called Cephas” (Aramaic for Peter, meaning “rock”) — before Simon had done anything to earn that identity. Many interpreters see this as Jesus speaking a future reality into being rather than describing a present one: Peter spends the gospels working to live up to a name given in advance. The pattern shifts in Luke 22:31-32, where Jesus tells Simon his faith won’t fail — not because of effort, but because Jesus himself prayed for him. Is Abiding in Christ Passive or Active? Both, and Scripture holds the tension rather than resolving it. Salvation itself is passive — a gift received, not earned (Ephesians 2:8-9). But abiding, once saved, requires active pursuit: reading Scripture, praying, gathering with other believers, and according to 2 Peter 1:5-7, deliberately supplementing faith with virtue, knowledge, self-control, and the rest. The Mary and Martha story (Luke 10) is often used to illustrate this: Mary’s stillness at Jesus’s feet isn’t passivity — it’s active attention, just aimed at receiving rather than producing. Scripture referenced: John 15:1–17 • John 1:42 • Galatians 5:22–23 • Micah 6:8 • 2 Peter 1:3–7 • Luke 22:31–32 • Luke 10:38–42

Westside Gainesville

June 25, 2026 • 5 Minute Read
What Does the Bible Say About Christian Unity?
James and John once asked Jesus for the two best seats in the kingdom. A few decades later, John sits down to write his gospel and includes a prayer where Jesus asks the Father for something else entirely on behalf of people James and John would never meet. Us, two thousand years later, in Gainesville. This episode was recorded on Father’s Day, and it shows. Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin spend most of it on John 17:20–26 — the part of the prayer where Jesus shifts from praying for the eleven disciples in the room to praying for everyone who’d believe because of them. A PRAYER FOR GRANDCHILDREN Pastor David frames the shift simply: in verses 6–19, Jesus prays for his children — the eleven disciples. In verses 20–26, his attention turns to the grandchildren — everyone who would believe through the disciples’ testimony. That includes every believer who has ever lived since. What does Jesus pray for this future family? Not health, happiness, or a good job — the things most fathers instinctively pray for their kids. He prays for unity (“that they may be one”, repeated several times) and proximity (“that they also may be with me where I am” — John 17:24). One in unity here on earth. One with him in eternity forever. How can we pray for you? Let us know by clicking the button below.I need prayer THREE REASONS WE OVER ME MATTERS Pastor David draws three threads out of the passage. First, unity reflects the divine — when believers surrender their own desires for the good of others, they put God’s relational, self-giving nature on display. Second, unity reaches the world: “Make them one, Father, so that the world will know that you love me and that you sent me” (John 17:21,23). Disunity actively undercuts the testimony believers are trying to give. Third, unity recognizes our future — because we are guaranteed an eternal home with the Father, it becomes easier to sacrifice now, knowing the outcome is already secure. He illustrates the power of unified testimony with the World Cup: stadiums full of fans from Mexico, Scotland, and beyond singing their national anthems with total, unembarrassed unity — a single voice, completely given over to one allegiance. That, he says, is the kind of undivided allegiance God wants from the people he has called out for himself. TRANSFORMATIONAL DISCIPLESHIP IS RELATIONAL, NOT DIGITAL Richie’s sermon at Southwest leaned into discipleship as the practical outworking of we over me. His foundation: Romans 12:2 — don’t be conformed to the world, but transformed. Conformity is easy. Transformation is impossible apart from the power of God working through discipleship — and discipleship, he insists, has to be relational. You can’t get it from YouTube. He quotes Robert Coleman’s The Master Plan of Evangelism: God’s plan A was for the gospel to spread through ordinary people. There is no plan B. Jesus modeled this by narrowing his focus — from thousands, to twelve, to three, to one beloved disciple. Real discipleship happens life-on-life, shoulder-to-shoulder, one-on-one. Richie cites Brett McCracken’s Scrolling Ourselves to Death: the suicide rate among kids ages 10–24 has risen 62% since 2007 — the same year the iPhone debuted. His point isn’t that phones are evil, but that the digital age is actively pulling people away from the relational discipleship Jesus modeled and commanded.Connect in a Life Group A MISSION STATEMENT FOR FATHERS David highlights John 17:26 as a mission statement for dads: “I have made known your name to them, and will make it known, so that the love with which you loved me may be in them.” His hope for his own kids: to make God known to them through Christ so that the love he has experienced with God becomes the love they experience too. It is not a task to complete. It is a desire to be lived. Think of David, Solomon, and Rehoboam — a father trusting an imperfect son with everything, generation after generation. In John 17, God the Father entrusts everything to God the Son, who entrusts it to us. The trust runs all the way down to Gainesville, Florida, today. Theological Triage | What We Have to Agree On If unity matters so much, why are there so many denominations? Richie introduces Albert Mohler’s concept of theological triage — like a medical triage, doctrines are sorted by urgency. Primary doctrines are life-or-death: salvation by grace through faith in Christ alone, the deity of Christ, the resurrection. Pull out those pillars and the faith collapses entirely — it isn’t Christianity anymore. Secondary doctrines — like the mode of baptism — shape which church you join and disciple within, but don’t determine whether someone is a Christian. Tertiary doctrines, like views on the millennium, are things believers can disagree on while still worshipping together on a Sunday morning. Pastor David notes that in decades of ministry, he has rarely counseled anyone who struggled to become a Christian because of denominational differences — but he has met many who struggle because Christians don’t look different from the world.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step

Westside Gainesville

May 14, 2026 • 4 Minute Read
What Does It Mean to Have the Mind of Christ?
Paul doesn’t just tell the Philippians to serve. He tells them to think differently first. Because if you get the mind right, the service follows. That’s the spine of Philippians 2 — and it’s the spine of this episode. This week, Pastor David Chauncey and Pastor Richie Baldwin go deep into Philippians 1:27–2:11 — Paul’s call to live as citizens of heaven, the Christ hymn and the kenosis doctrine, and what George Washington crossing the Delaware River has to do with the incarnation. Citizens of heaven | The Foundation The sermon’s launch point is Philippians 1:27 — “Let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ.” Paul is writing to a predominantly Roman church. These were Roman citizens. Suffering and humility were not virtues in their world — they were signs of weakness. Paul’s reframe is radical: you have a different citizenship now. And that citizenship comes with a different code. Richie connects it directly to service: the vertical relationship with Christ enables horizontal service to people. If you know the encouragement of Christ, the comfort of His love, the fellowship of the Spirit, then you can have the same mind as Jesus toward others. The vertical affects the horizontal. The Mandate, the Method, and the Models Pastor David structures Philippians 2 around three movements. The mandate: “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Phil. 2:4). Most problems, he says, are a counting problem — we’re counting abuses to ourselves instead of the needs of others. The method is a transformation of the mind. Paul doesn’t say try harder — he says change what you count. Count others. Die to self. The models are Christ himself, then Timothy (“there is no one like him who will be genuinely concerned for your welfare”), and Epaphroditus, who traveled to Philippi simply because he heard they were worried about his health. The key insight: we don’t want people to fill a slot of service. We want people to develop a mind. If you have the mind of Christ, the slots fill themselves. The CHRISt hymn and the kenosis Philippians 2:5–11 is believed by many scholars to be one of the earliest hymns of the Christian church, an oral tradition encapsulated in poetic form before the Gospels were written. It is among the most theologically significant passages in the New Testament. The passage describes three stages of humiliation: Jesus existed in the form (morphē) of God in full equality with the Father. He did not grasp at that equality but voluntarily emptied himself — the Greek word is kenōsis. He took on human form. And then he went further: obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Pastor David notes something critical: the Greek says he emptied himself — not that the Father emptied him. This was a voluntary act of submission between equals. You cannot be coerced into the mind of Christ. It has to come from within. The hymn doesn’t end with the cross. It ends with exaltation: God gives Jesus the name above every name, and at that name every knee will bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. Suffering unto death — then glory. That’s the pattern. And Paul says, "Have this same mind." What does it mean to have the mind of christ? In Philippians 2:5–11, Paul commands believers to “have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.” Having the mind of Christ means adopting his posture of voluntary, selfless humility — counting the needs and interests of others above your own. The passage describes how Jesus, though equal with God in every way, did not grasp at that equality but emptied himself (Greek: kenōsis), took on human form, and became obedient to death on a cross. This was not compelled submission but a voluntary act of love. To have the mind of Christ is to make the same voluntary choice — to lay down status, comfort, and self-interest in service to others — motivated not by obligation but by the same love that sent Jesus from heaven to earth.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step

Westside Gainesville

May 7, 2026 • 4 Minute Read
How Do I Find My Spiritual Gift?
A lot of people are waiting for a sign. A burning bush. Some unmistakable confirmation from God before they commit to serving. Pastor David Chauncey has a direct word for that: it doesn’t work that way. This week on What We Didn’t Say on Sunday, Pastor David, freshly back from leading a group through the seven churches of Revelation in Turkey, joins Pastor Richie Baldwin to unpack 1 Corinthians 12 and the question every churchgoer eventually faces: where do I fit, and how do I find out? Why Interdependence Is the Design, Not the Backup Plan Pastor David’s first point from 1 Corinthians 12 goes all the way back to Genesis 2:18 — the first time in the creation narrative that God says something is not good. Not the darkness. Not the chaos. The first “not good” is that man should be alone. Interdependence isn’t a theological footnote. It’s written into the original design. Paul builds on that in 1 Corinthians 12 with the body analogy, using it almost comically. The hand can’t say to the foot, “I don’t need you.” The head can’t tell the feet to leave. Every part is necessary. And no one has been given all the spiritual gifts by design. Because if they had, the body wouldn’t need to be a body. The Danger of the 30% Church In most average Southern Baptist churches, only about 30% of members actively serve. Pastor David puts it plainly: imagine if only 30% of your body worked. You could train and develop that 30% all you want — you’d still exhaust them, and the body still wouldn’t function. This is what the Nicolaitans were pushing in the early church — a heresy called sacerdotalism: the idea that a special class of clergy does the real ministry while everyone else stays passive. Two of the seven churches in Revelation were warned about it. The same dynamic quietly kills the life of churches today. Pastor David’s response after decades in ministry: “You set me apart and financially support me to work this ministry full-time. You didn’t set me apart to give me your job.” How You Actually Find Your Spiritual Gift Pastor David has given spiritual gift tests for 30 years. His honest assessment: they’re barely scientific, much less spiritually authoritative. They’re a starting point, not a destination. God is not going to burn a bush for you in your backyard and announce your spiritual gift. It bubbles up as you obey Scripture — as you love one another, make disciples, and serve. On the team is where it manifests. You try things. You make mistakes. Others in your Life Group see gifts in you before you do. That’s not a bug in the system. That’s the system. The story of John Mark is the clearest biblical example. He failed completely on the first missionary journey with Paul and Barnabas. Paul refused to take him back. But John Mark eventually found his gifting became a close friend of Peter, wrote the first gospel, and later Paul himself says in Colossians: “send John Mark to me, he is of use to me.” You don’t find your gift and then serve. You serve, and the gift finds you. How do I find my spiritual gift? According to 1 Corinthians 12, spiritual gifts are given by the Holy Spirit for the building up of the body of Christ. The Bible does not teach that believers should wait for a supernatural sign before serving. Instead, spiritual gifts are discovered through active participation in the church community — they manifest as believers obey Scripture by loving one another, making disciples, and serving on a team. Others in the community often identify gifts in a person before that person recognizes them in themselves. Spiritual gift inventories and tests can be a helpful starting point but are not spiritually authoritative. The story of John Mark in Acts and Colossians 4:10 illustrates the biblical pattern: he failed on the mission field, found his true gifting through accountability and community, and ultimately became useful to both Paul and Peter.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step

Westside Gainesville

April 30, 2026 • 4 Minute Read
The Wrong Way to Be Great (and What Jesus Said Instead)
James and John pulled Jesus aside and made their request privately: they wanted the two seats of honor in His kingdom. One on the right, one on the left. It’s one of the most awkward moments in the Gospels and one of the most revealing. In this episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday, Pastor Richie Baldwin is joined by Westside’s Ministries and Administration Pastor Zach Allen to dig deep into Mark 10:32–45: the disciples’ wrong view of greatness, the historical context that explains their confusion, and the verse that Jesus lands the entire conversation on. Why james and john got greatness wrong The disciples were measuring greatness by the wrong standard, the same one the world still uses. Championships. Status. Position. Who’s in the cabinet when the new king takes over? But their confusion wasn’t random. It was historically grounded. Richie and Zach walk through the story of Judas Maccabeus — the Jewish military hero who, around 165 BC, led a revolt against Antiochus Epiphanes, retook the temple, and became the greatest figure in recent Jewish memory. Maccabeus means “hammer.” He was the closest thing the Jewish people had seen to a conquering deliverer. And so when Jesus began talking about the Kingdom of God, the disciples layered that Maccabean framework over everything He said. They were waiting for Jesus to do what Maccabeus did, only bigger. Jesus had already told them three times that He was going to be handed over, crucified, and rise on the third day. They weren’t ignoring Him. They just couldn’t make it fit the framework they had. A kingdom doesn’t start with the king’s execution. The Cup, the Baptism, and the Cost They Didn’t Understand When Jesus asks James and John if they can drink the cup He’s about to drink and be baptized with the baptism He’s about to undergo, they answer immediately: “We are able.” They had no idea what they were agreeing to. Zach unpacks the depth of that exchange: suffering is built into the call. Not always martyrdom, sometimes it’s getting up early, clearing your calendar, showing up when it’s inconvenient. But kingdom service was never designed to be comfortable. It is always connected to the cross. And then there’s the haunting detail in Mark 10:40, “to sit at my right or my left is not mine to grant.” The commentaries are divided: Is Jesus submitting to the Father’s authority in the roles of the Trinity? Or is this foreshadowing? Because when the crucifixion comes, Mark records that Jesus hung on the cross with criminals at His right and His left. John was standing there. The same John who had asked for that seat. WHAT KINGDOM GREATNESS ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE Jesus lands the entire passage on one verse: “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). The Greek word for ransom is lytron, a price paid to purchase someone out of slavery. Jesus wasn’t just modeling servant leadership. He was purchasing people out of sin and death. Kingdom greatness is never demanded. It’s never self-declared. It’s not measured by followers, titles, or platforms. It’s measured by how willing you are to take the lowest seat and serve the person in front of you from a motivation rooted entirely in the gospel. Not self-bragging power, but self-sacrificial empowerment. What does the bible say about greatness? According to Jesus in Mark 10:42–45, the world measures greatness through power, authority, and status — but kingdom greatness works in reverse. Jesus told His disciples that whoever wants to be great must be a servant, and whoever wants to be first must be a slave of all. He grounded this in His own example: “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Biblical greatness is never self-declared or demanded. It is expressed through servant leadership, motivated by the gospel, and measured by willingness to take the lowest seat.Watch the Full EpisodeTake Your Next Step

Westside Gainesville