23 Jesus replied, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. 24 Anyone who does not love me will not obey my teaching. These words you hear are not my own; they belong to the Father who sent me. 25 “All this I have spoken while still with you. 26 But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. 27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. 28 “You heard me say, ‘I am going away and I am coming back to you.’ If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I. 29 I have told you now before it happens, so that when it does happen you will believe.

It was a quiet, tense moment in the upper room.  The Passover meal had been shared, and the disciples, still reeling from Jesus’ words about betrayal and departure, sat in silence. Then Jesus spoke again, softly, but with a power that would echo across generations: “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.”

The word Jesus used, monē, meant a home, a dwelling. He wasn’t just promising to be close by. He was promising that He and the Father would move in, take residence, dwell within the one who loves and obeys Him. That’s not just a visit. That’s a relationship. That’s the kind of intimacy that goes beyond religion. It’s God at home in the heart.

It reminded me of a story about Jesus Himself, slipping away to the hills to pray. He didn’t need a temple to find the Father; He was already dwelling in Him. And that same invitation is now extended to us. To be a home for God. But Jesus didn’t stop there. “Whoever does not love me does not keep my words…”

These aren’t the words of an authoritarian king, no. The Greek word He uses for “keep” is tēreō, and it means to guard, to treasure. Like you would a love letter or a precious heirloom. It made me think of John Wesley, before he had his heart “strangely warmed.” He had crossed the ocean as a missionary, preached with zeal, kept the rules, and yet he was empty.

On a storm-tossed ship bound for Georgia, Wesley saw a group of Moravian Christians singing hymns with peace on their faces as waves crashed. He later wrote that they had something he lacked, something he would find only when love, not fear, became the reason for obedience.
 
Then Jesus paused, and said: “But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of what I have said.” Paraklētos—that’s the word Jesus used. The one who comes alongside. An advocate, a comforter, a teacher.
 
Imagine being one of those disciples, trying to hold on to Jesus’ teachings, wondering how you’d survive without Him. But Jesus promised: “I will send the Spirit. You won’t be alone. My voice will still reach you.”

There’s another moment in Wesley’s life that comes to mind. After years of ministry, he finally experienced the Spirit at Aldersgate Street in London. He wrote in his journal: “I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins.” That’s the Spirit’s work: teaching, reminding, comforting.

And then Jesus leaned in and said something truly beautiful: “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives.” The peace of Jesus, eirēnē in Greek,  is not just a tranquil moment or the absence of conflict. It’s the wholeness of God. It’s the peace Jesus carried even in Gethsemane, praying through sweat and blood, but never losing the deep harmony with the Father.
 
This peace carried Jesus to the cross. This peace filled the Moravian singers in the storm. And this peace inspired Charles Wesley, John’s brother, to write hymns that sang of calm in the middle of chaos: “Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high…”

Finally, Jesus said, “You heard me say to you, ‘I am going away, and I will come to you.’ If you loved me, you would rejoice...” He was going—yes. But He was also coming back. And in the meantime, His Spirit would remain. His peace would stay. And His promise would never fail.
 
Years later, as John Wesley neared the end of his long and fruitful life, he spoke his final words with the confidence of a man who had lived in this peace: “The best of all is, God is with us.” That is the promise Jesus left behind. That is the hope we carry forward. That is the truth we live in today, and every day.

1 The apostles and the believers throughout Judea heard that the Gentiles also had received the word of God. 2 So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him 3 and said, “You went into the house of uncircumcised men and ate with them.”  4 Starting from the beginning, Peter told them the whole story: 5 “I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. I saw something like a large sheet being let down from heaven by its four corners, and it came down to where I was. 6 I looked into it and saw four-footed animals of the earth, wild beasts, reptiles and birds. 7 Then I heard a voice telling me, ‘Get up, Peter. Kill and eat.’ 8 “I replied, ‘Surely not, Lord! Nothing impure or unclean has ever entered my mouth.’ 9 “The voice spoke from heaven a second time, ‘Do not call anything impure that God has made clean.’ 10 This happened three times, and then it was all pulled up to heaven again. 11 “Right then three men who had been sent to me from Caesarea stopped at the house where I was staying. 12 The Spirit told me to have no hesitation about going with them. These six brothers also went with me, and we entered the man’s house. 13 He told us how he had seen an angel appear in his house and say, ‘Send to Joppa for Simon who is called Peter. 14 He will bring you a message through which you and all your household will be saved.’ 15 “As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit came on them as he had come on us at the beginning. 16 Then I remembered what the Lord had said: ‘John baptized with[a] water, but you will be baptized with[b] the Holy Spirit.’ 17 So if God gave them the same gift he gave us who believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I to think that I could stand in God’s way?” 18 When they heard this, they had no further objections and praised God, saying, “So then, even to Gentiles God has granted repentance that leads to life.”

​Have you ever had to explain yourself after doing something people didn't understand? Maybe you decided based on conviction, but instead of encouragement, you met resistance. You saw the good, but others only saw the disruption. That's where we meet Peter in Acts 11. News had traveled fast: Peter had not only entered a Gentile's home-he had eaten with them, in first-century Jewish culture, but that also wasn't just socially awkward, it was scandalous. The early believers were confused, even upset. They confronted Peter. The word used in Greek for their "criticism" is diakrino, which doesn't just mean to question, but to divide, to draw a line in the sand. But Peter wasn't trying to defend a reckless decision. He was bearing witness to a move of God.
 
Peter began his explanation by recounting a vision-one that would change everything. He had seen something like a giant sheet descending from heaven, full of animals considered unclean by the Law of Moses. A voice told him, "Get up, Peter, Kill and eat. But Peter, still bound by old convictions, refused. "By no means, Lord! I have never eaten anything unclean." Then came God's reply-three times over: "What God has made clean (katharizo), you must not call unclean." The word katharizo doesn't just mean to wash off dirt-it means to render acceptable, to declare something pure in the sight of God. This vision wasn't about food. It was about people. The Spirit was preparing Peter's heart to see that God's grace would no longer be contained by national, religious, or cultural lines. This was a paradigm shift-and it would take courage to embrace it
 
God's Spirit cleanses and includes whom we might be tempted to exclude. Wesleyan Echoes: Crossing Boundaries with Conviction, John Wesley knew something about crossing boundaries. In 1739, when he was shut out of churches for preaching to coal miners, he stepped outside and preached in the open fields. He was ridiculed and called a radical. But he said something we still echo today: "The world is my parish." Like Peter, Wesley saw the Spirit at work beyond the walls of tradition. He followed, even when it meant losing approval
 
Peter then tells them what happened next. Right after the vision, visitors came from the house of Cornelius, a Roman, a Gentile. Peter went with them, and as he preached about Jesus, the Holy Spirit fell upon them, just as He had fallen at Pentecost. The Greek word for this moment is epipipto-to fall upon suddenly and powerfully. It's a word that captures divine invasion. Peter realized something earth-shattering: God was pouring His Spirit on Gentiles without asking for permission from tradition. Peter remembered Jesus' words: "You will be baptized with the Holy Spirit." This baptisma en Pneumati Hagio-baptism in the Holy Spirit was God's signature, sealing these outsiders as His own.
 
It is not we who determine who belongs in God's family. It is the Spirit who draws, fills, and seals. The early Methodist movement was born in this same fire. It was Spirit-led and boundary-breaking:
 

• It empowered lay preachers when only ordained clergy were permitted.
• It invited women to teach and lead when culture said otherwise.
• It stood with the poor and enslaved, and Free Methodists later became known for their abolitionist stance.

 

• Today, our Free Methodist Church continues to affirm:
• Freedom for all races and classes to worship together.
• Dignity for the poor and forgotten.
• Equality for women and men in every area of ministry.

 
These are not just principles-they are responses to the Spirit's movement, just as Peter responded in Acts 11. When Peter finished speaking, something holy happened. The room fell silent. Not because they were unsure, but because they were in awe. Scripture says, "When they heard this, they had no further objections and praised God." They realized this wasn't Peter's agenda. It was God's
 
The church chases unity over fear. They didn't fight change; they worshipped through it. Jesus: The Original Boundary-Breaker. Peter had seen this before in Jesus:
 

• He touched lepers when others turned away.
• He welcomed women in a male-dominated society.
• He dined with Zacchaeus, the despised tax collector.
• He forgave the adulterous woman when others held stones.

 
Jesus didn't break the Law. He fulfilled it with merciful love. And now, Peter understood: the Spirit of Jesus was still at work, still including, still healing. Friends, what about us? Who are the Corneliuses in Bracebridge today?
 

• The immigrant or refugee family?
• The senior who hasn't spoken to anyone in days?
• Is the teen wrestling with mental health or identity?
• The addict? The forgotten?

 
Will we have eyes to see? Will we go when the Spirit nudges? Will we be willing to say, "Yes, Lord, even them?
 
Peter didn't rewrite the rules. He simply recognized the Spirit's handwriting. And so must we. Let us be a church that doesn't just talk about inclusion, but lives it. A church that doesn't resist the Spirit, but welcomes His surprises. A church that sees people the way God does-cleansed, beloved, and chosen.

Paul came to Derbe and then to Lystra, where a disciple named Timothy lived, whose mother was Jewish and a believer but whose father was a Greek. 2 The believers at Lystra and Iconium spoke well of him. 3 Paul wanted to take him along on the journey, so he circumcised him because of the Jews who lived in that area, for they all knew that his father was a Greek.

Mothers play a vital role in shaping the hearts and lives of their children. Today, we reflect on the profound influence of Eunice, the mother of Timothy. While much of the story of Timothy's life centers around his work with the Apostle Paul, we must not overlook the quiet but powerful role his mother and grandmother played in his spiritual development. Their faithfulness and devotion provide an enduring example of godly motherhood. As we observe the life of Eunice, we also recognize the deep connection between the legacy of John Wesley and his commitment to the role of family and spiritual formation, as seen in the history of the Methodist movement.
 
The Legacy of Faithful Mothers: Eunice’s Influence on Timothy. In Acts 16:1-3, we meet Timothy, a young man well spoken of by the believers in Lystra and Iconium. While we don’t know all the details of Timothy’s upbringing, the Scriptures give us a glimpse into the character of his mother, Eunice. Paul writes in 2 Timothy 1:5, “When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also.” Eunice’s faith was not simply a matter of words; it was a living, active faith that shaped her son, Timothy, into the man he would become. Eunice, like many mothers today, devoted herself to teaching her son the Scriptures from an early age. Paul commends the influence of Eunice and Lois, noting that their faith was sincere and genuine. What a powerful testimony to the impact a mother can have on her child! Eunice’s influence did not end with her words but extended into her life, showing Timothy the power of a mother’s faith and commitment to God. This is the heart of discipleship: to pass on the truth of God’s Word to the next generation, just as Eunice did for Timothy.
 
The Role of Mothers in Shaping Spiritual Lives. 2 Timothy 1:5 says: I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.
 
The importance of a mother’s role in shaping a child’s faith is echoed in the life of John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement. John Wesley’s mother, Susanna Wesley, had a profound impact on his spiritual journey. She took great care to ensure that her children were grounded in the Scriptures. She famously said, “I am more concerned about the salvation of my children than the success of my own ministry.” Susanna’s commitment to teaching her children the ways of the Lord laid the foundation for John Wesley’s lifelong ministry and the movement he would later lead. Like Eunice, Susanna Wesley’s influence wasn’t limited to just words. She embodied the principles of faith and godliness in her daily life. Her example was powerful enough to ignite a passion for God’s work in her children, particularly in John Wesley, whose ministry would change the world. The legacy of faithful mothers, like Eunice and Susanna, is one that transcends generations. It’s a reminder that the work of raising children in the faith is a sacred responsibility that God honors.
 
Timothy 3:14-15 says: 14 But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, 15 and how from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which can make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.
 
In 2 Timothy 3:14-15, Paul reminds Timothy, “But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them; and that from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which can make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.” Here, Paul highlights the invaluable role of Eunice and Lois in teaching Timothy the Scriptures. From a young age, Timothy was taught the Word of God, a foundation that would sustain him throughout his life and ministry. What a powerful example for us today! The words of “Jesus Loves Me” or “This Little Light of Mine” are more than just sweet tunes; they are the truths of Scripture that shape a child’s heart.
 
Mothers like Eunice and Susanna Wesley provide a beacon of encouragement for all mothers, especially those who may feel alone in their efforts to raise their children in the faith. Eunice was married to an unbeliever, yet her faith did not waver. She trusted in the power of God’s Word and remained faithful in teaching her son, Timothy, the truth. This encourages mothers who may find themselves in similar situations today. Your influence, prayers, and faithfulness are not in vain. Whether you are a single mother or a mother with a spouse who does not share your faith, know that God honors your efforts. You are raising future leaders of the faith, just as Eunice raised Timothy. Just as John Wesley’s mother, Susanna, influenced her children through her devotion and teaching, you too can impact your children’s spiritual journey by imparting to them the Scriptures and the love of Christ.
 
Mothers, your role is immeasurable. The legacy of Eunice, the mother of Timothy, reminds us of the power of a mother’s faith and influence in shaping the next generation. Through the faithful teaching of the Scriptures and the example of a godly life, you are laying the foundation for your children’s spiritual growth. Let us follow the example of Eunice, Susanna Wesley, and countless others who have faithfully passed on the faith to the next generation. As we celebrate the mothers in our lives today, let us remember that the work of teaching and nurturing the faith in our children is not just a responsibility; it is a divine calling. May God bless you and strengthen you as you continue to sow seeds of faith in the hearts of your children, trusting that He will bring forth a harvest of righteousness.

​2 When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. 2 Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. 3 They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues[a] as the Spirit enabled them.

A wind that changed everything. The room was filled with tension. The disciples were together, just as Jesus had told them. It had been ten days since He ascended into heaven, and exactly what they were waiting for. They only had His words: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you..." Then, suddenly, it happened. A rushing wind filled a force, a breath from heaven itself. They looked at one another, eyes wide with amazement, as flames appeared above their heads-fire that did not burn but rather ignited something within them as if a dam had broken, they began to speak in languages they had never learned. It was Pentecost, and nothing would ever be the same again. What had just happened?
 
This was the baptism in the Holy Spirit, the moment God's power was poured out, not just on a priest, but on ordinary believers. And from that moment, these once uncertain disciples became bold preachers, miracle workers, fearless evangelists. This wasn't just an experience for the Ser. It was the beginning of something new-a Church, a mission, and a promise that still stands today.
 
A strange warmth that sparked a movement. Over 1,700 years later, another man sat in a room, waiting. Unlike the disciples, he wasn't expecting anything to happen. He was already a minister, already a preacher, and yet, deep down, he felt something missing. His name was John Wesley, an Anglican priest, a scholar, a man who had worked hard for God but had not yet been transformed by God's power. That night, at a small Bible study on Aldersgate Street in London, as he heard a reading from Martin Luther's commentary on Romans, something happened in his heart.
 
He later wrote: "I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt that I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation, and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine." From that night forward, Wesley was never the same. He no longer preached because it was his duty; he preached with fire, urgency, and power. He stood in fields, ministered to prisoners, rode thousands of miles on horseback, all because the Spirit of God had moved in him. Wesley's experience was different from Pentecost's, but the effect was the same:
 

• Fear turned into boldness.
• Dry religion became passionate faith.
• A preacher became a movement.

 
The baptism in the Holy Spirit is not just about a feeling; it is about empowerment for mission. A shocking moment in a Roman's house. Years after Pentecost, another unexpected event took place, this time, in a Roman soldier's house. Peter, a Jewish apostle, had been reluctant to even enter a Gentile's home. But after a vision from God, he obeyed and went to the house of Cornelius, a Roman centurion who was eager to hear about Jesus. As Peter began to preach, something unthinkable happened: the Holy Spirit fell upon the Gentiles, just as He had upon the Jews at Pentecost.

​They began to speak in tongues, praising God, and Peter was stunned. The same Holy Spirit who had come with fire upon the Jewish believers was now empowering the Gentiles. This was proof that the Gospel was not just for one people but for all people. The Greek word used in Acts 10:44 says the Spirit "fell upon" them-έπέπεσεν (epépesen), meaning to seize, to take hold suddenly. God's power didn't come slowly-it came with force, filling them. This was a defining moment. If the Spirit could fall on Romans, outsiders, the unclean, then surely, He could fall on anyone, on us.
 
Why This Matters Today? The baptism in the Holy Spirit is not just a historical event. It is a promise for us today. But perhaps you're thinking: "That's great for Peter. That's great for Wesley. But what about me?"
 
Maybe you feel stuck in your faith, like you're following Jesus, but without the passion. Maybe you've heard about the Holy Spirit, but you've never experienced His power in your life. The truth is, the Spirit of God is still moving. And His purpose is not just to give us emotional experiences but to equip us for ministry.
 
The Spirit's Baptism Transforms Us in Three Ways:
 
1. It Turns Fear into Boldness
 

• Before Pentecost, Peter denied Jesus three times.
• After Pentecost, Peter preached boldly, even at the risk of death,
• The Spirit gives confidence to speak the truth.

 
2. It ignites Passion for Mission
 

• Before Aldersgate, Wesley was religious but powerless.
• After Aldersgate, Wesley was unstoppable.
• The Spirit fills us with a hunger to share the Gospel.

 
3. It Breaks Barriers
 

• Before Acts 10, Peter thought only Jews could be saved.
• After Acts 10, Peter saw that the Spirit is for all people.
• The Spirit calls us to welcome, love, and minister to everyone.

 
A call to seek more. So, what about you? Are you living a life of faith or a life of power? Are you content with a little of God's presence, or do you want to be fully immersed in the Spirit's fire? The early Methodist circuit riders were young, inexperienced, and under-resourced. And yet, they rode across the country, preaching in fields, suffering persecution, and transforming entire cities. How? They were Spirit-filled. What God did for them, He can do for you.

Afterward, Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the Sea of Galilee.It happened this way: 2 Simon Peter, Thomas (also known as Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. 3 “I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing. 4 Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. 5 He called out to them, “Friends, haven’t you any fish?” “No,” they answered. 6 He said, “Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.” When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish. 7 Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, “It is the Lord,” he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water. 8 The other disciples followed in the boat, towing the net full of fish, for they were not far from shore, about a hundred yards. 9 When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread.

​It was early morning on the Sea of Galilee. The sky was just beginning to lighten, and the water was still. Seven disciples, led by Peter, had gone out to fish. It wasn’t a spiritual mission; it was a return to what was familiar. After all the trauma of the crucifixion, after the confusion of the resurrection, they went back to what they knew. Peter said, “I’m going fishing,” and the others followed. But that night, the best time for fishing, they caught nothing. The nets came up empty, over and over again. And then, as the first light of dawn broke over the hills, they saw someone standing on the shore. A man, barely visible in the haze, called out, “Friends, have you caught anything?” “No,” they shouted back. Just one syllable, but heavy with fatigue and failure. “Throw the net on the right side of the boat,” he said, “and you will find some.”
 
It must have sounded strange. They were fishermen, professionals. Who was this voice from the shore to tell them what to do? But something in his tone stirred something in their hearts, and they obeyed. And suddenly, the net was full. Overflowing. So many fish that they couldn’t even haul them in. At that moment, John, the disciple Jesus loved, whispered, “It’s the Lord.” Peter didn’t hesitate. He didn’t wait for the boat. He didn’t wait for explanations. He threw on his outer garment, dove into the water, and swam the hundred meters to shore. That’s Peter. Impulsive. Bold. Ready to act. And on the shore? There was Jesus. Waiting. Not with a lecture, but with breakfast. A fire, some bread, and fish were already on the coals. He didn’t need more fish. He already had enough. But He told them to bring theirs anyway. A sign, perhaps, that even though He is sufficient, He wants to include our efforts, our work, our faith, our obedience, in what He’s doing. And then they sat and ate together. In silence. No questions. No defenses. Just presence.
 
It’s such a human moment. Quiet. Simple. Holy. And after breakfast, Jesus turned to Peter. “Simon, son of John,” He said, “do you love me more than these?” Peter, already wounded by his past, replied, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” “Feed my lambs.” A second time: “Do you love me?” “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” “Tend my sheep.” And a third time, cutting deep now, Jesus asked, “Simon, do you love me?”  Peter, hurt by the repetition, answered, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.” And again, Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.” Three questions for the three denials. Not to shame Peter, but to restore him. Not to remind him of his guilt, but to renew his calling. This isn’t just forgiveness, it’s reinstatement. And at the end, the same words Jesus said when He first called Peter by the lake three years before: “Follow me.”
 
I imagine Peter in that moment. Dripping wet. Still catching his breath. Still carrying the weight of shame. But Jesus doesn’t push him away. He calls him in.  This is grace. This is Jesus. We may walk away, we may fail, we may go back to the boats and the nets. But the Risen Lord waits for us on the shore, not with a finger pointing, but with a fire burning and bread breaking. And He asks us again: “Do you love me?” In many ways, this scene is a picture of the Church. Peter represents leadership, bold, flawed, and willing.
​
John represents the loving witness, discerning, present. The fish represent the world. The net is the mission. The breakfast is the table of fellowship. And Christ is the center of it all.
 
Charles Wesley once wrote in a hymn: “Depth of mercy! Can there be, Mercy still reserved for me?” Yes, there is. Because Jesus does not come to leave us in our shame. He comes to meet us in it, to cook breakfast for us, and to call us again. When John Wesley had his “Aldersgate” moment, when his heart was “strangely warmed,” he, too, had returned from failure, from striving and spiritual emptiness. And it was in a quiet gathering, hearing someone read from Luther’s preface to Romans, that he encountered the risen Christ again. Like Peter, Wesley was called, again, into mission. And like Peter, we too are called, again, not because we’re perfect, but because we’re loved.
 
So, I ask you: Have you returned to your old nets lately? Are you feeling like you’ve failed, like your efforts come up empty? Do you hear the voice of Jesus from the shore, asking: “Do you love me?” Then come to the fire, receive His grace, and follow Him once more because every morning with Jesus is a new beginning.