When the World Turns Its Face Away:

Understanding Hatred in the Light of Scripture

Brent Pollard

The Quotable and the True

There is a saying, widely admired and frequently borrowed, that the opposite of love is not hatred but indifference. It comes from the pen — or rather, the anguished memory — of Elie Wiesel, a man forged in the unspeakable furnace of the Holocaust. One understands why a survivor of such silence would reach for such a formulation. And yet, however piercing its moral force, we dare not let the eloquence of human suffering redefine the vocabulary of Divine revelation. The Scripture, that pure and uncompromising mirror held up to the soul of man, uses both words — love and hate — with a precision that our sentimental culture has long since abandoned.

If we are to understand why Jesus warned His own disciples that the world would hate them (John 15.18), we must first do the hard and humbling work of asking whathate actually means in God’s mind.

Hatred as Preference: What God Said About Esau

Consider first the text that has perplexed the casual reader and emboldened the careful theologian alike. “I have loved Jacob,” declared the Lord through His prophet, “but Esau I have hated” (Malachi 1.2-3, ESV). When the Apostle Paul, guided by the Spirit of truth, returns to this same declaration in Romans 9.13, he does so in the context of divine election — God’s predetermination.

Here is something the modern reader must wrestle with honestly: God was not indifferent to Esau. He commanded Israel in Deuteronomy 23.7 not to abhor the Edomites, Esau’s descendants, because of the kinship between the two peoples. Esau remained, as it were, on the ledger of Divine concern — just not on the ledger of Divine preference. To be hated, in this sense, is not to be despised into nonexistence. It is to be passed over in the matter of sovereign choosing. The love of God toward Jacob was an electing, covenanting love; the “hate” toward Esau was the absence of that particular, distinguishing grace.

This is no small distinction. When Jesus tells His disciples, “the world hates you” (John 15.19), He employs the very same shade of meaning. The world, quite simply, prefers its own. It has chosen its allegiances, arranged its affections, and set its face against the kingdom to which the Christian now belongs.

The Dark Logic of Envy: Cain and the Leveling Impulse

But, left unchecked, preference rarely remains philosophical. It curdles. It sours. It seeks expression in something far more sinister.

Look at Cain (Genesis 4.3ff). On the surface, his is the oldest murder in human history, and we are tempted to diagnose it simply as hatred. But peer beneath the surface, and you will find something older and uglier still — envy. Cain did not merely dislike Abel. He could not endure that God received Abel’s offering and rejected his own. The righteousness of his brother became an unbearable indictment of his own spiritual failure. And so, in the twisted logic that envy always produces, Cain reasoned — if such darkness can be called reason — that by removing Abel, he might also remove the standard by which he himself was found wanting.

This is the great lie buried at the heart of all persecution: that you can silence the conscience by silencing the saint. That you can eliminate the light of godliness by eliminating the godly. It is not a new strategy. It is as ancient as the first gravedigger. And it has never once worked.

The Animalistic Rage: What They Did to Stephen

There is, however, another face of this hatred — rawer, louder, and less calculated than Cain’s cold envy. We see it in that charged and terrifying moment when the enemies of Stephen, the first Christian martyr, heard his uncompromising proclamation of the crucified and risen Christ.

They gnashed their teeth (Acts 7.54). The Greek word used here is vivid —it was used of wild animals eating greedily or snarling at a threat. These were not men engaged in reasoned debate. They had descended beneath the level of rational discourse into something feral and ungoverned. They had, in the language we have explored previously, engaged in the process of othering — the deliberate psychological act of stripping a fellow human being of his humanity so that one’s conscience need not object to his destruction.

Here is a sobering truth for the soul willing to receive it: hatred rarely announces itself in its final form. It begins as preference, hardens into contempt, arms itself with ideology, and at last erupts into violence — all while convincing itself that it serves some higher cause. The mob that stoned Stephen believed, in the darkest chambers of their self-deception, that they were doing God a service (John 16.2).

The Kingdom Transfer and the World’s Response

To understand why the world’s preference so reliably curdles into persecution, we must understand what happened at your conversion. Paul, writing to the Colossians, describes it in breathtaking terms: you were transferred — the word carries the imagery of a military deportation — from the domain of darkness into the kingdom of God’s beloved Son (Colossians 1.13). You did not merely adjust your moral preferences. You changed empires.

And this brings us to the unsettling heart of the matter. Who governs the empire you left? One need not resolve every theological nuance of sovereignty to take seriously what the devil himself claimed during his temptation of our Lord — that the kingdoms of this world lay within his offering (Matthew 4.8-9; Luke 4.5-7). Jesus did not dispute the claim. He refused the terms. That the world is presently organized under a system of spiritual influence hostile to God is not a paranoid fantasy — it is a New Testament assumption.

When Jesus describes the devil in John 8.44, He reaches for two words: liar and murderer. This is no abstract theological label. It is a job description. A being who lies will produce a culture of deception; a being who murders will, when cornered by righteousness, produce a culture of violence. We ought not to be surprised, therefore, when those most deeply shaped by the prince of this world react to the disciple of Christ with rage, rejection, and — in its most extreme expression — death.

Prepared, Not Paralyzed: Living in the Shadow of the Cross

None of this, of course, is meant to produce within the Christian heart a spirit of panic or cowering retreat. Jesus did not offer these warnings to frighten His disciples into silence — He offered them so that His disciples would not be caught off guard and shipwrecked in their faith (John 16.1). Paul echoes the same intention when he assures Timothy with unflinching directness: all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted (2 Timothy 3.12). This is not a remote possibility. It is a settled promise.

The question, then, is not whether the hatred of the world will touch the faithful Christian — it is how the faithful Christian will stand when it does.

Here is what the Scripture affirms with the confidence of a thousand witnesses: you are not standing alone. The same Christ who warned you of the world’s hatred promised also the presence of the Comforter (John 15.26). The God who transferred you into His kingdom will not abandon you to the kingdom you left. He is with you in the furnace, as He was with the three Hebrew men in the fire of Babylon (Daniel 3.25). He is present in the courtroom, as He was with Paul before governors and kings (Acts 27.23-24).

Shining, Not Shrinking

The world’s hatred is real. Its forms are varied — sometimes it wears the cool mask of social exclusion, sometimes the angry face of open hostility. But in every expression, it shares a common root: a preference for darkness over light, for the kingdom of the deceiver over the kingdom of the Redeemer.

You, beloved disciple, are a citizen of another country. Your ultimate loyalty belongs not to the approval of men, but to the glory of God. The hatred of the world, however it manifests, cannot alter that citizenship, cannot revoke that adoption, and cannot extinguish that light.

Stand firm. Shine on. And remember — the darkness has never once overcome the light (John 1.5).

A Great Interview With Kathy And Carla

When Good Things Become God

Carl Pollard

Tradition is not the enemy. In fact, Scripture speaks positively about certain traditions. Paul wrote, “Stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us” (2 Thess. 2:15). The early church passed down apostolic teaching, patterns of worship, and faithful practices. In that sense, tradition can be a gift, a guardrail that keeps us rooted in truth. Tradition in this sense was truth handed down by Christ to the apostles (John 16:13).

But there is a difference between biblical tradition and traditionalism. I once heard it described as, “tradition is the living faith of the dead. Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.”

The clearest warning comes from Jesus Himself. In Mark 7:8–9, He rebuked the religious leaders: “You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men.” They weren’t condemned for having traditions but for elevating them above God’s Word.

The Pharisees believed they were preserving holiness. In reality, they were nullifying Scripture. Their traditions became filters that distorted God’s intent. Whenever our customs carry more authority than the Bible, we step into dangerous territory.

Traditionalism says, “We’ve always done it this way.” “That’s just how church is supposed to be.” And, “If it changes, it must be wrong.” Scripture tells us, “Test everything; hold fast what is good” (1 Thess. 5:21).

Traditionalism often confuses preference with principle. Worship location, order of service, dress expectations, building designs may be wise or meaningful. But when we bind them where Scripture does not, we risk adding to God’s Word.

In Colossians 2:23, Paul warned about man-made regulations that “have indeed an appearance of wisdom” but lack true spiritual power. Human systems can look holy while missing the heart. Traditionalism tends to resist biblical correction. It fears cultural engagement. It can prioritize comfort over mission. Ironically, many traditions that feel “ancient” are only decades old.

Traditionalism becomes especially harmful when it alienates younger Christians. When faith is presented as a rigid preservation of forms rather than a relationship with Christ, it breeds either rebellion or apathy.

The church is called to guard the gospel, not freeze cultural expressions in time. The message must not change. The methods often must.

At the same time, we should guard against the opposite end of the spectrum, novelty for novelty’s sake. Not all change is healthy. Scripture calls us to contend for “the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3). Stability matters. The accumulated wisdom of the church matters.

The solution isn’t to abandon tradition but to submit every tradition to Scripture. Does this practice clearly flow from the Bible? Does it help us glorify God and reach people? Or are we defending it simply because it’s familiar?

Traditionalism becomes sin when it binds where God has not bound. It divides over matters of preference (or conscience). It replaces obedience with ritual. It protects comfort over Gods mission.

Jesus didn’t die to preserve our customs. He died to redeem people. Faithfulness isn’t measured by how tightly we cling to the past, but by how fully we submit to Christ in the present. May we cherish biblical tradition, reject human traditionalism, and build churches shaped not by nostalgia, but by the Word of God.

“Absolute Truth”

Gary Pollard

This week we’ll look at the problem of Language, continuing our criticism of aspects of the video The ancients decoded reality by Chase Hughes. I want to reiterate here that Mr. Hughes is an excellent researcher and has provided valuable information in his work. I believe his conclusions are flawed where Christianity is concerned, however. Similarities between writings and observations do not constitute universal compatibility, as will hopefully be demonstrated in this series. 

After positing that Truth exists in every tribe myth and scripture (04:12), he says, “We got lost in the arguments, differences, translations, rituals, politics, and fear. We started defending our favorite books, rather than noticing what they were all trying to say.” 

To some extent this is true. “Die for Christ, die for Allah, die for Jerusalem, die for Torah; father and son, marching in rhythm, firing bullets through the skulls of the children. Holy war, mortars and martyrs; holy war, unholy followers.”1 Religion weaponized is a potent plague, always leaving millions dead in its wake. The brilliance and beauty of Jesus’s teachings — when they’re actually followed without human interference — is their non-compulsion and self-sacrificing love. There is only one way to truth: Christ. “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life — no one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). But it was never to be forced upon anyone, and personal death was always demanded over the use any kind of violence. “To me, the only important thing about living is Christ. And even death would be for my benefit” (Php 1.21). 

Since Chase says, “…rather than noticing what they were all trying to say,” we have to point out that many of these religions are mutually exclusive — at least in their current form. Most of the ones predating Christianity seem to have been based on genuine, profound observations of reality in their original forms. But these were corrupted over time, with personified forces of nature eventually venerated as gods and goddesses. The original meaning of their symbolic language devolved into rituals and often-dysfunctional forms of worship. Jesus came to earth at “just the right time” to bring Truth back to the world for good (Gal. 4:4). But in their current forms they are not compatible. 

Where Christianity will most fundamentally disagree with Mr. Hughes: Truth (with a capital T) is not fully knowable in this body; at least, not the kind of Truth he’s talking about (universal knowledge and enlightenment). I Corinthians 13 says, “Now we see God as if we are looking at a reflection in a mirror. But then, in the future, we will see him right before our eyes.” Chase correctly points out the severe limitations of our ability to capture and delineate the infinite using human language. This is the core of today’s look at his video. 

He correctly and eloquently describes language as “a net with holes too large to capture the infinite.” He cites Lao Tzu, “The dao that can be spoken is not the eternal dao.” Then he says, “The moment you try to describe ultimate truth, you’ve already distorted it, filtered it, and tried to contain it.” This is precisely why Truth is personified in Christianity. Truth is Jesus, and Jesus is Truth. We won’t be able to digest what that means until he returns (I Jn 3.1-3), but we can at least understand that he is the embodiment of universal Truth, an exact reflection of the nature of God. 

Chase says, “Knowledge was hidden, but not the way we think and not for the reasons we think. It was hidden because they were trying to describe the indescribable, and the human brain was not designed to handle these truths. Language is the core problem” (05:40-06:15). I’m writing this series in large part because of these next lines: “Jesus understood this [problem of language’s limitations]. He told his disciples, ‘I speak to them in parables because most people aren’t ready to comprehend the Truth directly.’ They didn’t have language for quantum physics or non-duality or consciousness models like we have today, in our still-infantile language. They had to compress the infinite into words” (07:02-07:14). There are a few problems with this. 

  1. Jesus wasn’t talking about quantum physics or non-duality. Even through a modern lens, this interpretation stretches the text beyonds its limits. Jesus spoke in parables to filter out true seekers. He even spoke in parables to his own followers because they weren’t spiritually mature enough to understand why he was there. He gave them the job of spreading everything — his parables AND his plain, uncoded teachings — to the world through their writings after his ascension. His teachings give us the path to enlightenment, but make it clear that that is something only fully realized in the expanded consciousness of our resurrected bodies. That path is selfless love, self discipline, loving God and helping people as often (and covertly) as we can. 
  2. The ancients’ view of consciousness is one that resonates even today. Origen argued in favor of non-local consciousness in Peri archon, and suggested the possibility that genetics influenced this in some way (Traducianism). The concept of soul in the New Testament has more in common with a consciousness model than we might think (or teach). We still use the transliterated form of this word today: psyche. The ancient Egyptians expressed this through concepts like ka and ba. It was understood that our bodies are powered by a life force (spirit/breath) that came from God, and returns to the Source after death. They understood that our consciousness is what makes us the “image of God”. They knew that death only expands this consciousness and its capabilities, and those who follow God will enjoy the benefits of this in an upgraded, indestructible body of some kind. We’re the ones lagging behind the ancient understanding of consciousness, not the other way around. 
  3. Few, if any, modern languages are improvements on their ancient ancestors. English is one of many well into its declining stage. West, Schwaller, and others like them convincingly demonstrated the superiority of ancient symbolism over modern scientific jargon, which is often used to obfuscate ignorance. Look at the opening lines of John’s gospel (“in the beginning was the Word…”), and compare that to how we might express the same in modern language.2 Our ability to grasp the infinite has degraded over the centuries, not improved. 

Finally (for today), Chase says, “All ancients hit the same wall. How do you describe an experience bigger than thought itself, using a language that’s built out of thought? How do you describe God, Unity, Infinity, Consciousness with a vocabulary built for farming and weather and trading spices and chickens with each other? How do you tell someone the universe is One before they understand atoms or galaxies or even their own mind? You can’t. So [the ancients] spoke in metaphors and symbols and myths and stories and poetry and parables and riddles — and sometimes silence. They didn’t do this to hide the Truth; the Truth was just too large to fit through the doorway of our primitive little language” (07:23). 

He makes several good points! Language is wholly inadequate to express the infinite, and symbolism is the best way to express the “eternity written on our hearts.” But symbolism is not accessible to the masses, and still falls short of actually capturing the infinite. Jesus presented Truth (or the path to it) to the masses using those stories and parables and mysteries. The early church recognized the multi-layered nature of Christ’s teachings — accessible to the masses on its surface level, while giving the esoterically-minded something to really chew on at its deeper levels of meaning. We do the text disservice to stop at a literal reading (derived through exegesis) to the neglect of any symbolic, allegorical, or spiritual teachings that may also be present. 

So while I think we would generally agree with his statement, there are some problems as well: 

  1. Knowledge of atoms, galaxies, etc. does not impact anyone’s capacity for spiritual understanding.3 Much of that is intuitive anyways, which he would likely agree with! Anyone with physical senses mostly intact can understand that reality is composed of parts and wholes, ascending to an ultimate unity, the one God and Father of all who is above all, through all, and in all things (Eph 4.6). 
  2. As stated earlier, it is not the purpose of this life to fully understand Truth (all there is at the universal scale). Our potential for understanding Truth will only be realized in our new bodies. 
  3. Language does not seem to have been originally designed for “trading spices and chickens”. The ancient Aymara language (still spoken today, but dates to pre-Incan times), for example, is so computer-program-like that it was used as the bridge language for translation software for decades. My point in nitpicking this is that our modern understanding of the world and our cosmic environment — and the ancients’ different understanding of the world and our cosmic environment — have little bearing in the grand scheme on our capacity for spirituality. Civilizations rise and fall, and we are very likely not the most advanced to have existed on this earth. 

As for the last statement (“they didn’t do this to hide the truth”), I would point to the ancient Egyptian practice of guarding secret knowledge. In the Old Kingdom, it was accessible only to kings. In the Middle Kingdom, non-royal elites (also Moses, cf. Acts 7.22) were included. The later Pythagoreans (who got everything from Egypt) were said to have guarded aspects of their knowledge with deadly force. Secret societies have existed in some form for all of human civilization. Jesus differs from the ancient esoteric traditions in that he made it available to everyone with eyes to see and ears to hear. Truly complete knowledge isn’t possible in this life, but we will enjoy that benefit in our new bodies. 

1 Holy War, Thy Art is Murder

2 ”Today, in modern terminology, we can say: at the incomprehensible and, by human faculties, unimaginable but nevertheless expressible and logically necessary instant of the Primordial Scission, the absolute being conscious of itself, created the manifest universe, whose fundamental formative aspect is vibration, a wave phenomenon characterized by movement of variable frequency and intensity between oppositely charged poles. This movement is not to be considered as separate or distinct from the poles but rather as that which by its existence produces or compels the significance of the respective poles, since negativity and positivity require an underlying concept of opposition/affinity in order to render them meaningful; the three aspects or forces thereby are assumed as inherent within the original Unity, which is the Absolute or Transcendent cause. This may not be an improvement upon St. John.” — West, J. (1979). Serpent in the sky. The Julian Press, Inc.p. 81

3 Atoms were posited by Democritus in the fifth century BC; inside Sepi III’s coffin (1900 BC) is the Vignette of Re, likely a depiction of a heliocentric solar system — with its planets — long before modern rediscoveries of this fact. These observations don’t seem to have impacted their ability to discern truth in positive or negative ways. 

“The Answer Is Money. Now, What Was Your Question?”

Neal Pollard

Recently, I heard former college player and head coach and current UFL head coach Rick Neuheisel say this. He was discussing why the “portal” and “NIL” is creating a “wild west” upheaval that is changing college sports. His co-host kept bemoaning and wondering why everyone was letting this happen and ruining something so many have enjoyed. Then came Neuheisel’s hilarious, but Solomonic reply. Isn’t it true? Where knowingly or not, the coach was quoting the king: “Bread is made for laughter, and wine gladdens life, and money answers everything” (Ecc. 10:19). 

Why have we been sold so many lies about healthcare, diet, investing, politics, fashion, home design, education, and the like? “Take this. Do this. Buy this.” Many times, the answer is money. Money is a neutral commodity, but loving it drives people to do just about anything. Often, those drives are destructive. You remember what Paul said about it?  

“But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs” (1 Tim. 6:9-10). 

This is what so often follows “the answer”–temptation, traps, tragedies, transgressions, turmoil, tears, and treachery! Desire becomes harmful desire. Love of money eclipses healthy desires. People lie, cheat, steal, and kill for it. How many relationships, friendships, marriages, homes, and families have been blown apart because someone or everyone placed the money above the Master’s message about it? 

“Beware, and be on your guard against every form of greed; for not even when one has an abundance does his life consist of his possessions” (Luke 12:15). “No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth” (Mat. 6:24). Jesus warns against those who are trying to find the answer in money. 

Money is such a wonderful tool and servant. It meets needs (2 Cor. 8-9). It provides supports (2 Cor. 8:4). It is a tangible way to show grace (2 Cor. 8:7). It can prove our love (2 Cor. 8:24). Giving it cheerfully pleases God (2 Cor. 9:7). It can increase the harvest of your righteousness (2 Cor. 9:10). Giving it enriches you in ways no net worth will reflect (2 Cor, 9:11). That’s how money can be the right answer. But we must let God both ask the questions and give the answers!

Learning From Women Of The Bible

LIGHT OF THE WORLD (Season 6, Episode 11)

Debuted on February 22, 2026, on WNKY NBC 40, Bowling Green, KY

Light Of The World (NBC Promo)

Light Of The World (CBS Promo)

What The World Needs Now: The “Unnatural” Love Jesus Commands

Brent Pollard

Why Jesus Commanding Love Strikes Us as Odd

There is something that stops us cold when we first read John 15.17. Jesus commands us to love. We instinctively resist this. Love, we have been told since childhood, is something that happens to us—a feeling that comes unbidden or not at all. And yet there it stands in the plain Greek of the New Testament: a command. An imperative. Not a suggestion, not an aspiration—a command.

The love Jesus commands does not bubble up from the wellspring of natural affection. It does not depend on the worthiness of its object. It is a love that originates not in the heart but in the will. This is what makes it unnatural—not aberrant or disordered, but swimming against the powerful current of a fallen nature that has always reserved its warmth for those who return it.

What Made Jesus’ New Commandment Truly New

The Jews of Jesus’ day already had a command to love their neighbors (Leviticus 19.18). But centuries of theological trimming had quietly reduced the definition of “neighbor” to a comfortable radius of like-minded, like-blooded individuals. This is precisely why Jesus told the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10.25–37)—a story so deliberately unsettling that it practically demanded a verdict.

Then, in the upper room on the night of His betrayal, Jesus issued a new commandment: “Love one another, even as I have loved you” (John 13.34, NASB95). The newness lay in its standard and scope. The measure of this love was no longer the mirror of self—it was the cross. And the cross looks like a man hanging between criminals, praying, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 22.34, NASB95). That is the standard.

Agapē Love: What the Greek New Testament Reveals About Loving Like Christ

Koine Greek—the common tongue of the first-century world—distinguished at least four varieties of what we flatten into one English word. Phileō was friendly affection. Storgē was a family bond. Erōs was romantic desire. And rising above them all stood agapē—sacrificial, unconditional, self-emptying love. Kindness is extended when kindness is not deserved. Forgiveness is given when the wound is still fresh. Service rendered without expectation of return.

You do not feel your way into agapē. You choose your way into it. The natural loves are genuine goods, gifts from God’s hand—but left unchecked, they curl inward. The love of family becomes contempt for the stranger. The tribe’s love becomes hatred of the outsider. Agapē redeems and elevates these natural loves, rightly orienting them. It is not human morality at its finest—it is participation in the divine nature, the love of God shed abroad in human hearts by the Holy Spirit (Romans 5.5). You cannot manufacture it. You receive it, and then choose to deploy it.

Agapē, in its fullest sense, is the deliberate choice—empowered by God—to seek another’s genuine good at personal cost, because that is precisely how God in Christ has loved us.

“Othering” in Modern Culture and the Ancient Problem It Represents

Hal David, moved by the turmoil of the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War, wrote words that Jackie DeShannon made famous: “What the world needs now is love, sweet love.” Were David writing today, surveying our present moment, the pen would move with the same urgency.

We live in a time of othering—the process by which human beings made in God’s image are reduced to caricatures and assigned to an outgroup whose humanity can be safely disregarded. The Nazis did not begin with gas chambers. They began with names, with the slow rhetorical work of placing people outside the boundaries of moral concern. Today, the preferred weapons are different—”Nazi,” “fascist,” “bootlicker,” “communist”—but the intent is identical: to frame opponents as a them against whom any response is justified. The summer of 2020 saw politically motivated murders amid the George Floyd protests. January 2026 has already recorded two deaths connected to ICE enforcement protests. Solomon was right—there is nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1.9). Human fallenness finds new costumes for old sins.

How the Cross Teaches Christians to Love Their Enemies

The command of Jesus is not an antiquarian curiosity. It is addressed to this fractured, furious moment. The temptation—and we should name it honestly as a temptation—is to reserve our warmth for the in-group and feel entirely justified in our contempt for ideological enemies. But the One commanding our love is the same One who prayed forgiveness over the men who drove the nails.

The decision to love precedes the feeling of love. We choose to pray for those who despise us. We choose to speak with dignity about those whose politics make our blood simmer. And grace, practiced in genuine submission to God’s Spirit, reshapes not just our behavior but our hearts.

Jesus said the watching world would know His disciples not by their doctrinal precision or political affiliations, but by their love for one another (John 13.35). The church, in an age of othering and outrage, is called to be a visible demonstration that another way is possible—that the love of God in Christ is not a theological abstraction but a living reality.

The command is given.

The standard is the cross.

The power is the Spirit.

And the world is watching.

The Sin Of Self-Reliance

Carl Pollard

There’s a quiet danger that often hides beneath ambition, discipline, and hard work. It doesn’t look rebellious, and it doesn’t sound arrogant. In fact, it’s usually praised! That danger is self-reliance.

We live in a culture that celebrates independence. From childhood we are taught to stand on our own two feet, chase our goals, and depend on no one. Strength is admired. Neediness is frowned upon. The message taught is if you want something done right, do it yourself.

While responsibility and initiative are good qualities, they can quietly evolve into something spiritually destructive. Self-reliance becomes sinful when it replaces dependence on God.

Scripture consistently reminds us that human strength is limited. Proverbs 3:5 is a verse we have been teaching Rich and Amara to memorize. It is simple, but so important. Solomon warns, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” That command assumes something important, our understanding is not sufficient. We dont see the full picture. We are finite, while God is not.

The problem with self-reliance isn’t that we work hard. The problem is that we begin to believe our effort is the ultimate reason for our success! Prayer becomes optional, and our gratitude weakens. Decisions are made without seeking God’s wisdom. We may still attend worship and read Scripture, but practically speaking, we operate as if everything depends on us.

This mindset produces pressure. When life rests entirely on your shoulders, anxiety naturally follows. Every outcome feels personal. Every failure feels final. But Scripture paints a different picture of strength. In 2 Corinthians 12:9, Paul writes that God’s power is made perfect in weakness. Weakness isn’t something to hide, it is the doorway to dependence! 

Self-reliance can also damage relationships. When we refuse help, resist accountability, or struggle to admit fault, pride quietly takes root. Dependence on God cultivates humility. It reminds us that every breath, every opportunity, and every blessing ultimately comes from Him.

There is freedom in surrender. When we acknowledge our limitations and actively trust God, the weight shifts. We still work. We still plan. But we do so prayerfully, recognizing that outcomes belong to Him.

True strength isnt found in proving we can handle everything alone. It’s found in trusting the One who already holds everything together!

Sorry, Chase

Gary Pollard

This week’s article is an introductory one, maybe the first of two or three. About a week ago, Chase Hughes (a popular YouTuber) posted a video that already has almost 2,000,000 views (The ancients decoded reality). He makes a lot of good points and is, understandably, skeptical of the mainstream historical narrative. But he makes some leaps that I think need to be addressed, since the topics he covers are becoming more and more accepted. In many ways this is awesome! The mainstream view of history is one of linear progression: primitive people become more advanced over time, and no ancient civilization was truly advanced in any way (despite all of the insanely precise megalithic structures, the math and astronomy encoded in them, and the sheer logistical impossibility of their construction). Anyway, this linear-evolution view of history is full of holes, and most people interested in the mysteries of our past have rejected it. 

What fills the vacuum? If a person’s ability to spit out the bones is tuned properly, there’s some excellent modern material out there: West, Hancock, Seyfzadeh, Velikovsky, de Santillana, de Lubicz, and many other heretics like them. What’s missing from this topic is a balanced Christian viewpoint that isn’t married to the mainstream historical (or even a traditionalist religious) narrative. That vacuum is filled by universalists, pantheists, self-professed pagans, and others who are hostile to Christianity (or who feel that it is just one of many paths to God). Even the eminent Graham Hancock once said on JRE (NP: Joe Rogan Experience), “I have little patience for the mainstream monotheistic religions…so much of the evil in this world came from them.” 

People are tired of a materialistic worldview, of capitalism-gone-wrong, of narrow-minded dogmatism, and, most of all, censoring or classifying the mysterious. There is so much potential here for good! People are searching for existential meaning and genuine truth. We need to produce some open-minded, grounded, honest alternative historians to bring balance to the decidedly-pagan framework dominating the conversation. 

Back to Chase Hughes’ video: his premise is that all ancients made observations about the nature of reality at the most fundamental level. These observations were filtered through the woefully inadequate lens of human language, so symbolism was employed. In the 190+ ancient writings he surveyed (Christian, Buddhist, Taoist, Gnostic, Egyptian, Mayan, Hermetic, Confucian, Sumerian, and Indigenous), he noticed significant overlap in their major themes. This despite them being “thousands of miles apart…with no way to communicate or influence each other…all whispering the same message” (01:35). 

Many of his observations are spot-on! I’ve seen the overlaps and similarities with my own eyes, especially in Egyptian and Sumerian and Jewish literature. The problems, which we will address in greater detail in a future article, come from his conclusions. A .22LR bullet has almost exactly the same base diameter as .223 Remington, but that similarity doesn’t make them compatible in the other’s platform. They’re both excellent varmint rounds. They’re both extremely popular and widely used. They’re both inexpensive. They’re both “.22” rounds — but they aren’t the same thing. Essentially, as we’ll hopefully see in a future article, Mr. Hughes sees the same level of Truth in all world religions because of the many similarities in their observations. Those similarities are absolutely there! His research is valuable for that reason, don’t misread me. But to conclude that one is just as true as another is like saying you can run a .223 Remington in your factory Ruger 10/22. It’s the differences between them that matter, and the same principle is relevant to this discussion. God-willing, we will use the structure and premises of Mr. Hughes’ video to address the topic as a whole and hopefully bring a balanced, Christian perspective to Truth and our pursuit of God. 

To War With The Waves

Dale Pollard

One of the strangest moments in Roman history probably belongs to crazy Caligula. Why? Well, he’s the emperor who  declared war on the sea. 

This wasn’t a battle on the sea, this was a battle with the sea.  

According to the Roman historian Suetonius in The Twelve Caesars, Caligula marched his legions to the coast of Gaul around A.D. 40 and he formed his soldiers in battle lines facing the water.

Then he gives a command— attack! 

The troops were ordered to stab the waves and hurl javelins into the surf. Afterward, Caligula reportedly instructed them to gather seashells as “spoils of war”—from Neptune (Rome’s god of the sea). 

Was the story exaggerated? It’s possible. Even if the only truth to the tale was that a man waged war against the ocean it still provides the perfect illustration for many things in life. The illusion of human power, being one of them. An emperor who ruled millions could command armies, raise your taxes, and build monuments — but he couldn’t slay the sea. The ocean didn’t retreat and the waves did not surrender.

The Bible tells us who has sovereignty over the waters:

“Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb… when I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt” (Job 38:8–11)? 

God reminds humanity that only He sets boundaries for the ocean. Kings may flex, and armies might rage, but the tide answers to no one but Him.

Caligula’s strange spectacle at the beach becomes sort of a  parable doesn’t it? When humans attempt to assert divine authority over creation, they expose their limits. A lesson nobody ever wants to learn is that power without humility turns into absurdity. Or, to put it another way; authority without submission is self-parody.

The sea still keeps its boundaries, not because an emperor commanded it— but because God did.

Making A Way When There Was No Way

Neal Pollard

Recently, I read the 2005 book by Candice Millard entitled The River Of Doubt. It chronicles Theodore Roosevelt’s exploration of the interior of Brazil, along with Candido Rondon. Their work literally put a major tributary of the Amazon River on the map. Rondon had come across the river in a 1909 expedition to lay telegraph wire and he longed to explore it. When Roosevelt was yearning for an adventure following his unsuccessful bid for a third term as president, this appeared to be the answer. It was called The River Of Doubt (Rio da Dúvida) because no one knew how long it was, what kind of terrain it passed through, or where it ended. The journey was dangerous and deadly, very nearly killing Roosevelt himself. But the risk resulted in geographical and scientific advancement that benefits the world even today.

I have always been fascinated to read about the works of pioneers. Gutenberg and the printing press, Jenner and vaccinations, the Wright brothers and flying. Whether travel and exploration or inventions, people who went first or paved the way for us are people we may never think about but we owe so much to them. Even our highway systems, with paved roads that go through tall mountains, took people to make a way when there was no way.

In Hebrews 6:20, the writer uses a term that’s only found in that verse–forerunner. The word had a very diverse usage. It was used in athletics of one who runs forward at top speed. It was used of one who went in advance of others, like horsemen ahead of the army or guides. The ancient Macedonian army had a special corp known as forerunners. In Alexandria, Roman ships heavily loaded with grain, were led out by a small guide ship. It was used in botany of the first green shoot, tree or flower of Spring. It was used metaphorically of a precursor, like John the Baptist.

The idea is that Jesus has gone behind the curtain before us into God’s presence. We can join Him there because His death made it possible for us (Heb. 5:8-9). But we also have unrestricted access to God’s presence now because He prepared the way. The writer tells us this is our sure and steadfast anchor of hope that allows us to take refuge.

It is beautiful to think that Jesus has gone before us and paved a way for us. It is a theme the writer of Hebrews addresses throughout the book as He shows us how Jesus has done that in the past, is doing it now, and will do it in the future:

  • Our forerunner went before us in the creation (1:1-3)
  • Our forerunner went before us in salvation (2:10)
  • Our forerunner has gone before us for our eternal destination (12:1-2).

One of our songs says, “Each step I take, my savior goes before me, and with His loving hand He leads the way. And with each step, He whispers I adore thee, Oh, what joy to walk with Him each day.” He’s gone before us! The question is, “Are we following Him?”

February 15, 2026

LIGHT OF THE WORLD (SEASON 6, EPISODE 10)

Learning To Live From Old Testament Stories

The Truest Valentine: Love Written in Blood

Brent Pollard

The Forgotten Man Behind the Holiday

Saturday brings us once more to Valentine’s Day, that peculiar fixture of the modern calendar in which chocolate and sentiment have almost entirely buried the bones of a third-century martyr. The holiday bears the name of a man who bled for Christ, yet we have dressed his memorial in pink and red and made it an occasion for romance. One suspects that if Valentine himself could survey what has become of his feast day, he would be bewildered—and perhaps grieved.

Who was this man? The historical record is thin. Multiple martyrs bore the name Valentine in the second and third centuries. Still, tradition has settled on a Roman priest—sometimes identified as a bishop of Terni—who was executed under Emperor Claudius II around 269 AD. The legends are familiar: that he secretly performed Christian marriages, that he penned a farewell note signed “From your Valentine.” These details are charming, but the earliest sources contain none of them. What we do know is this: Valentine was a minister of the Gospel. He was martyred for his allegiance to Christ. The early church honored him as a witness—a martyr in the original Greek sense of the word—to the lordship of Jesus. Everything else was embroidered into the story during the Middle Ages, much as the legends of Christmas accrued around a manger that, in its original hour, was far more stark and dangerous than any Nativity scene suggests.

In 496 AD, the Catholic Church established the Feast of Saint Valentine on February 14th as a liturgical commemoration—not of romance, but of Christian fidelity under persecution. If love was to be associated with the day at all, it was the love described in John 15:13: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” The connection to romantic love did not emerge until after 1382, when Geoffrey Chaucer wrote in his Parliament of Fowls: “For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day, when every bird comes there to choose his mate.” From that poetic seed grew a cultural vine that, over the next several centuries, would entirely obscure the root.

By the 1500s, European nobles were exchanging Valentine’s notes. Romantic pairings became the dominant association with February 14th. What was forgotten—quietly, gradually, and almost completely—was that a man had forfeited his life for his faith in Christ. What follows is a pattern we observe repeatedly in history: a religious observance is absorbed by commerce, reshaped by local culture, and re-exported globally in its modified form.

A Holiday Remade by Commerce and Culture

Consider Japan. There, Valentine’s Day has become a Sadie Hawkins affair. Women give honmei-choco (“true feeling chocolate”) to romantic interests and giri-choco (“obligation chocolate”) to coworkers and superiors. Japanese confectioners, not content with a single commercial holiday, invented “White Day” on March 14th, when men reciprocate with gifts worth two to three times what they received. As Japan grows more progressive, a growing pushback among women seeks to eliminate giri-choco, which may eventually nudge Japan toward the Western model of Valentine’s Day as a lover’s holiday.

Korea adds an even more inventive wrinkle. Koreans observe both Valentine’s Day and White Day in the Japanese fashion, but they have appended a third occasion: “Black Day” on April 14th. On Black Day, those who received nothing on either holiday gather to eat jajangmyeon (black bean noodles) and commiserate over their single status. One cannot help but note the irony—that a day once consecrated to the memory of a man who died for the highest love has been culturally refracted until it produces a holiday devoted to lamenting the absence of the lowest.

This trajectory is instructive. It reveals something about the nature of human culture: left to its own devices, the world will always trade the costly for the comfortable, the cruciform for the commercial, the eternal for the ephemeral. It has done so with Valentine’s Day. It has done so with Christmas. It will do so with any truth that demands something of us, unless we are vigilant to remember what the truth actually requires.

Love Detached from Sacrifice

Here we must make a spiritual observation, for our purpose is devotional rather than merely cultural. When love is detached from sacrifice, it becomes fragile. This is not a sentimental claim. It is a theological one, rooted in the very nature of God and the pattern of His self-revelation.

Examine every major New Testament articulation of love, and you will find that love is never defined primarily by emotion. It is demonstrated through surrender, not sentiment. God did not merely feel affection for the world; He gave:

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3.16, ESV)

“Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” (Ephesians 5.25, ESV)

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15.13, ESV)

Do you see the verb that anchors each of these texts? It is not “felt.” It is not “enjoyed.” It is “gave.” Love, as Scripture reveals it, is not the warm feeling that overtakes us when conditions are pleasant; it is the deliberate act of self-expenditure when conditions are agonizing. The cross was not a gesture of sentiment. It was the ultimate act of will, the most purposeful decision in the history of the cosmos—the Son of God choosing, in full possession of His faculties and full awareness of the cost, to absorb the wrath His people deserved.

Strip sacrifice from love, and what remains? Affection. Enjoyment. Personal fulfillment. Preference. These are not worthless; however, they are not durable. A love built on enjoyment will fracture the moment enjoyment fades—and enjoyment always fades. A love sustained by emotion will collapse the moment emotion shifts—and emotion always shifts. Only a love anchored in the deliberate, costly, daily decision to give of oneself can endure the pressures that this fallen world relentlessly applies.

The Architecture of Love

Perhaps an analogy will help. Think of love as a building. Sacrifice is the foundation and the structural steel. Romantic attraction is like paint—it beautifies, but it bears no weight. Shared interests are the furnishings—they make the space enjoyable, but remove them, and the building still stands. Emotional chemistry is like lightning—it illuminates brilliantly for a moment, but you cannot wire a house with it.

Without sacrifice, marriage collapses under duress. Friendships dissolve under inconvenience. Church unity disintegrates under disagreement. Why? Because sacrifice is the only form of love that says, “I will stay when it costs me.” And make no mistake—it will cost you. The question is never whether love will be tested, but whether your love is the kind that can survive the test.

Consider Paul’s inspired description in 1 Corinthians 13. Love is patient. It bears all things. It endures all things. It does not seek its own. It never fails. We must remember the context: Paul was not composing a wedding homily. He was addressing a fractured congregation riven by pride, division, and the competitive misuse of spiritual gifts. When he wrote that love “does not seek its own” (1 Corinthians 13:5, NASB95), he was describing cruciform love—love shaped like the cross. This is not the love of Hallmark cards. This is the love of Gethsemane and Golgotha.

If Love Is What We Feel, It Will Fail

Here is the great dividing line: if love is what we feel, it will fail; if love is what we choose, it will endure.

Paul could describe this perfect love in 1 Corinthians 13 because he had seen it incarnate in Christ. Jesus did not withdraw when obedience brought the hematidrosis of Gethsemane—that dreadful sweating of blood that Luke, the physician, records with clinical precision (Luke 22.44). Jesus did not retreat when loyalty to the Father brought Him the agony of Calvary. He stayed. He chose to stay. And His staying was not passive endurance but active, purposeful self-giving for the glory of the Father and the redemption of His people.

This means that 1 Corinthians 13 is not idealism. It is not the wistful poetry of a romantic who has never suffered. It is the testimony of a man who watched his Lord die and who understood that the pattern of that death was now the pattern for all Christian love. It is imitation, not imagination.

And that is our call. The love Paul describes is not reserved for poets or newlyweds, for the spiritually elite or the naturally affectionate. It is the daily decision of the disciple. It is patience when irritation would be easier. It is kindness when pride demands recognition. It is endurance when quitting would bring immediate relief. It is the quiet, unglamorous, often unnoticed choice to remain faithful when faithfulness is expensive.

The World’s Love and Christ’s Love

The world celebrates love that dazzles. Christ commands love that remains. The world measures love by its intensity of feeling. Christ measures love by its faithfulness under fire. The world asks, “How deeply do you feel?” Christ asks, “How faithfully will you stay?”

We must not be confused about this. The world’s version of love is not entirely wrong—it is merely insufficient. Romantic feeling is a good gift of God. Emotional connection is part of His design. Enjoyment of one another is woven into the fabric of human relationships. But these things are the blossoms, not the root. And when we mistake the blossom for the root, we are devastated when winter comes, and the blossoms fall. The root of love is sacrifice. The root of sacrifice is the will. And the will is strengthened not by feeling, but by faith—faith in the God who first loved us in precisely this way.

John writes: “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth” (1 John 3.16–18, ESV). Notice the movement of the text. John does not allow love to remain in the stratosphere of theology. He brings it immediately to earth: Do you see your brother in need? Then act. Love is not what you say. Love is what you do when doing is costly.

A Valentine Written in Blood

As the world exchanges cards and chocolates this Saturday, let us remember what Valentine’s Day was intended to commemorate. Not romance. Not sentiment. Not the fluttering heart of a new attraction. It was meant to honor a man who loved Christ more than he loved his own life—and who proved it by dying.

And behind that man stands the One whose love makes all other loves possible: Jesus Christ, who on a Roman cross authored the truest Valentine ever written—not in ink, but in blood. That is the love we are called to imitate. Not merely to admire, not merely to theologize about, but to embody—in our marriages, our friendships, our congregations, and our daily encounters with a world that desperately needs to see love that does not quit.

The measure of our love is not how deeply we feel, but how faithfully we stay. May God grant us the grace to love as Christ loved—with a love that gives, that stays, that sacrifices, and that endures. For that is the love that never fails.

The Sin No One Talks About

Carl Pollard

We are living in the most hurried generation in history, and we celebrate it. Being too busy is so normal that there is even a medical term for it: hurry sickness. We eat while driving, walking, or working. We answer emails during phone calls. We listen to podcasts on double speed. Many people check their phones close to 100 times a day. According to the American Psychological Association, more than 77 percent of Americans report chronic stress, and nearly one in three say it severely affects their mental health. Still, when someone asks how we are doing, we say, “Busy,” almost with pride. Exhaustion has become a status symbol.

Our culture treats hurry like a virtue. Scripture doesn’t. In Psalm 46:10, God says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” The word “still” means to loosen your grip, to stop striving. God isn’t asking for more frantic effort.

In the Old Testament, God built rest into the life of His people. The Sabbath forced them to stop working and remember that their survival didn’t depend on constant productivity. It depended on Him. Today, everything is optimized for speed. Faster shipping. Shorter videos. Quicker results. Even in worship we feel it. Prayers get shorter. Attention spans shrink. Worship competes with notifications.

Jesus lived differently. In Luke 10, Martha was busy serving, doing what her culture valued. Mary sat at Jesus’ feet and listened. Jesus gently pointed out that Martha was anxious and troubled. In Mark 1:35, Jesus woke up early to pray before the crowds found Him. He refused to be controlled by urgency. In John 11, when Lazarus was sick, Jesus delayed. His timing wasn’t careless. It was purposeful.

Hurry produces impatience and weak judgment. It drains joy and weakens discernment. You can be active in the kingdom and still grow resentful if you never slow down to be with God. Patience is listed as fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5, and fruit doesn’t grow overnight.

Hurry isn’t harmless. It shortens our prayers, strains our relationships, and makes it harder to obey God. The answer is simple but not easy. We must slow down! We need unhurried prayer, focused time in Scripture, and real conversations without distraction.

The world may be frantic, but God’s people don’t have to be. Those who walk closely with Him aren’t the ones moving the fastest. They are the ones who take time to listen and obey.

The Clairvoyant Text

Gary Pollard

You’ve probably felt distant from the scriptures at some point because of their archaic origin. If we’re honest with ourselves, it can be difficult to resonate with texts so far removed from our own experiences. We have aircraft that’ve operated in excess of 85,000 feet altitude, traveling at over three times the speed of sound. We manufacture mind-bogglingly complex things at a microscopic scale with ease. Robots perform surgeries. We can stare at the Orion Nebula, Jupiter, Saturn, Mars, Venus, and other celestial wonders in our backyards with cheap, mass-produced telescopes. Unfortunately, we also have weapons capable of erasing hundreds of thousands of lives in a fraction of a second. 

This barely scratches the surface, and anyone who likes to research the limits of human ingenuity knows that “DARPA1 is always about 25 years ahead of what the public is aware of.” The phones in our pockets are millions of times more powerful than the guidance computer that put man on the moon2, and even the AGC was lightyears ahead of anything a shepherd in antiquity could comprehend. 

We live in a world that feels, in many ways, totally disconnected from the one that birthed the divine texts we rely on for guidance and godly living. So what makes them useful, relevant, or invaluable? Their use of symbolism and their appeal to transcendent principles. It’s as if the authors of the New Testament were aware of the trajectory humanity would follow! Why not communicate using mathematics? We consider math to be the universal language — something that has its roots in vastly ancient times. But math can only reach a limited number of people: few can understand it adequately (least of all me). Instead, the New Testament writers employed stories, parables, and first principles to set up a system that would never be truly irrelevant. 

No matter how advanced our technology becomes, its principles will always be powerful. “Take care of the vulnerable.” “Love other people, even your enemies.” “Live like you’re going to stand before a judge after you die.” “Put the needs/desires/feelings of other people ahead of your own.” On a more concrete level, the New Testament speaks of earth’s impending destruction — a final one this time. We have the passage in Hebrews (quoting Haggai), “Once again I will shake the earth, but I will also shake the sky.” The geological record (and our own eyeballs) shows incontrovertible evidence of colossal destruction at some point in the past. Earth was repaired (cf. Ps 104), but is destined for complete destruction and final repair (cf. II Pt. 3). All of its messages have the same power today that they had millennia ago! 

The language of the New Testament can be understood by just about anyone, especially if using a half-decent, Easy-to-Read3 translation. That the New Testament doesn’t bog itself down with messages relevant only to the culture of the ancient world is a powerful evidence of a divine origin. There are other internally-consistent, well-attested ancient writings with seemingly-anachronistic scientific knowledge and profound philosophical principles — but these can only be understood after immersion in their historical-culture contexts and symbolisms. Few have the time, energy, or desire to do so. Even in their day, that knowledge was closely guarded, available only to kings, elites, or the initiated. The New Testament presents many of those same principles (without the baggage, of course) in language any truth-seeker can comprehend. The message of the New Testament tangibly alters the feelings, perceptions, and behaviors of its adherents in ways that only benefit everyone — if practiced without the interference of human traditions and bad motives. God’s word stands on its own and needs no assistance.  

So, the message of the New Testament remains as relevant today as it was 2,000 years ago. Rather than feeling disconnected from it, we should appreciate its extreme value more than ever! It has never been more relevant to our world than it is now! Our “advances” have had an inversely proportional effect on our capacity for goodness. Only God can save us, and we welcome his return. 

You have to be aware of this: There are some terrible times coming in the last days. People will love only themselves and money. They will be proud and boast about themselves. They will abuse others with insults. They will not obey their parents. They will be ungrateful and against all that is pleasing to God. They will have no love for others and will refuse to forgive anyone. They will talk about others to hurt them and will have no self-control. They will be cruel and hate what is good. People will turn against their friends. They will do foolish things without thinking and will be so proud of themselves. Instead of loving God, they will love pleasure. They will go on pretending to be devoted to God, but they will refuse to let that “devotion” change the way they live. Stay away from these people!   

1 Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. Its former director (Lukasik) once said, “If you need a weapon system and don’t already have it developed, it’s too late.” 

2 I realize this is increasingly considered controversial. Whether man visited the moon or not, the AGC is a real component on a real spacecraft which can be viewed today at the National Air and Space Museum’s Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA. 

3  I’m not biased at all. 

THE MOUNTAIN OF MYSTERY

Dale Pollard

Where is mount Sinai? It’s an important mountain in the Bible but today there’s several different peaks that claim to be the real deal. Let’s dig a little. 

In Galatians 4:25, Paul states:

“Mount Sinai is in Arabia.”

Here’s the thing though. 1st century Arabia did not mean the Sinai Peninsula of Egypt. It was the vast area of Arabia Petraea that included:

• Northwest Saudi Arabia

• The land of Midian

Well now, that last one is a juicy detail because Moses actually lived in Midian for decades (Exodus 2–3). If God met Moses “at the mountain of God” while he was in Midian, the most natural place for Sinai to be is near where Moses had been, not hundreds of miles away. 

There’s more! 

The Bible repeatedly ties Sinai to Midian. Here’s a quick recap: 

  1. Moses flees Egypt, then settles in Midian. 
  2. God appears to Moses at the mountain of God while shepherding there. 
  3. Jethro (a priest of Midian) later visits Israel at Sinai.

If Sinai were deep in the Egyptian Sinai Peninsula, Jethro’s involvement doesn’t make much sense. 

If Sinai were in or near Midian (which is in Arabia), the narrative flows nice and cleanly.

For these reasons, and more— many early Jewish and Christian traditions placed Sinai east of the Gulf of Aqaba.

Sinai had some strange things happening on its peak— just read Exodus 19. There’s thunder, lightning, trumpets blasting, and fire. It’s hard to wrap our minds around exactly what was taking place. 

With all of that history in mind, there’s a site called Jabal al-Lawz. It’s an odd name but it’s a real interesting Candidate.

This mountain seems to have it all, including: 

• A darkened summit

• Nearby ancient stone structures

• Rock art that appears to depict cows 

• Large open plains suitable for a massive encampment

Is it the one? Who knows. Seems like a great place to do more investigation though. 

What Is The Meaning Of Life?

Neal Pollard

Big question! Apparently, it is at the top of all questions people ask around the world every month, gauging from internet search engine queries. According to dailysearchvolume.com, it spikes “with cultural moments…annual reflection periods…academic calendars…and headline- driven uncertainty.” It “is timeless, cross-cultural, and frequently resurfaced by media references, classroom assignments, life transitions, and news cycles that provoke reflection.” Whether or not we use those exact words, all of us spend a lifetime with that question at the heart of everything we are and all we do. 

What does the question imply?

EXISTENCE. We are alive and aware. We exist, and because we exist we want to know why. We can observe much about “life.” It is brief. It has joy and sorrow. It is not always what we want it to be and thought it would be, and we may have to overcome unexpected and adverse things. But there is no way around it. We exist. We are here.

EXPLANATION. Was it random chance? Was it an accident from a cause that did not have me in mind? An unlimited number of “what” questions drive the original question. It is consummately unsatisfying to believe or conclude that there is no answer. The result of such aimless existence is despair, depression, apathy, and a certain fatalistic emptiness, if we accept the consequences of purposeless position. 

EXCLUSIVENESS. At the very least, by asking what “is” life’s meaning, we are saying that while there may be many responsibilities and lesser pursuits something is premier and preeminent. There is an ultimate meaning. Discovering and pursuing that should take center stage and demand our highest attention and investment of our basic resources (time, money, and energy). It leads us to ask, could money, pleasure, fame, or education be the answer? Yet, countless people have made that their “why” only to experience utter emptiness at the end of life.

EXPECTATION. We want an answer or we would not ask. Nobody wants to hear, “I don’t know” or “it does not matter.” Life coaches, self-help organizations, mentors, support groups, community, and endless other entities exist to fill the hole induced by our question. We believe we can find it, we want to know, and then we want to do what we can to accomplish our quest with success. We wake up each day wanting to live with significance.

What if there was a resource that seriously, meaningfully, and logically explained an exclusive purpose for our existence and shaped our expectation? It would have to be internally coherent, consistent, and consequential. What if I were to tell you that a single source fully answered the most frequently asked question people ask every day? Would you want to know more about it? 

“Why Did Jesus Have To Die On The Cross?”

LIGHT OF THE WORLD (SEASON 6, EPISODE 9)

Originally Aired On WNKY, Bowling Green, KY, On February 8, 2026