Author: preacherpollard

preacher,Cumberland Trace church of Christ, Bowling Green, Kentucky

A Profile In Genesis

Dale Pollard

The first book of the Bible is one that has always intrigued its readers. Here’s a profile of the contents and context of this inspired work.

Earliest Date

The traditional view says that Moses composed Genesis during or shortly after the Exodus (1400-1200 BC). This was the standard belief of ancient Israel and early Christianity. Later, there was some debate (lacking satisfying proof) over whether it was written closer to 900-500BC. However, nearly everyone seems to agree that the accounts themselves preserve much older material.

Historical Coverage

Genesis spans from creation to the death of Joseph in Egypt. During this period, major events like the Flood, the Tower of Babel, and the Patriarchs. Depending on what source you use you’ll find timelines from 2,600 years (Masoretic chronology) to over 5,000 years (According to Flavius Josephus). 

Incredible Accuracy

The universe had a definite beginning, but before that was acknowledged, it was something that even 19th century scientists resisted.

Humans are made from the “dust of the earth.” Modern biochemistry shows the human body is literally made of the same elements found in soil—carbon, iron, oxygen, trace metals.

Purpose

To explain the origins of the world and humanity. It answers big questions like where everything came from and why we exist. It explains why the world we live in is both beautiful and broken.

It establishes Israel’s Identity. The twelve tribes and their ancestry would trickle down through history to produce the promised Messiah (Gen. 49.8-12).

Judah And Boaz

Neal Pollard

There is a very interesting blessing directed to Boaz in Ruth 4:11-12. “Then all the people who were at the gate and the elders said, ‘We are witnesses. May the Lord make the woman, who is coming into your house, like Rachel and Leah, who together built up the house of Israel. May you act worthily in Ephrathah and be renowned in Bethlehem, and may your house be like the house of Perez, whom Tamar bore to Judah, because of the offspring that the Lord will give you by this young woman.’” There are three parts to this blessing and all are framed as comparisons between events in Genesis in the Patriarchal Age and the events of this book.

  1. How Rachel and Leah came into Jacob’s family and how Ruth came into Boaz’s.
  2. How this built up the nation and how they pray for this marriage to continue the same.
  3. How one widow was blessed through deception and sin and how they wanted honorable Boaz and Ruth to be blessed in this admirable arrangement.

The whole, three-part blessing, seems to be a contrast between the lesser (Genesis characters) and the greater (Boaz and Ruth). God had done incredible things through the faulty characters of the former. Leah was at times jealous and bitter. Rachel was conniving and petulant. Jacob was a deceiver. Judah reneged giving his third son to Tamar, who disguises herself as a prostitute to raise up seed to give her a name and place among them. Judah’s character problems in that situation are many and apparent.

The beautiful story of Ruth shows a woman who willingly returns, a widow, with her mother-in-law to be among her people and serve her God. An abiding trust in God’s providence brings about this relationship between Ruth and the highly-honorable Boaz. Unlike Judah’s sons, Boaz accepts his role in this levirate marriage and takes the near kinsman role. This blesses not only Ruth and Boaz, but the once forlorn mother-in-law, Naomi.

God had tremendously blessed the descendants of Jacob, Rachel, Leah, Judah and Tamar, despite their moral failings. In the same lineage, what would He do for Boaz and Ruth? It seems the people are calling on the God who had blessed their weaker ancestors to amplify His goodness and gifts on those who so faithfully acted through this union. What a thoughtful and powerful blessing!

Even when we are faithless, God is faithful, “for He cannot deny Himself” (2 Tim. 2:13). God was fulfilling His promises to Abraham (Gen. 12:2-3). At times, this was accomplished despite the contrary and sinful actions of people. At other times, this was accomplished through the godly, selfless deeds of good people. Knowing that God is always at work (Rom. 8:28), would you like your part to be remembered like Judah or Boaz? Like Rachel and Leah or Ruth?

Did Jesus Go to Hell? Clearing Up a Common Misunderstanding

Brent Pollard

How often we hear it said—in songs, in sermons, even recited in ancient creeds—that Jesus “went to hell” after His crucifixion. The phrase rolls off the tongue with such familiarity that few pause to question whether Scripture actually teaches such a thing. Yet here is where we must be careful, for familiarity can breed assumption, and assumption can obscure truth.

The reality is both simpler and more glorious than the popular notion suggests. Yes, Jesus descended somewhere after His death—but it was not to the hell of eternal punishment. The confusion arises from a tangle of translation issues, historical traditions, and well-meaning but imprecise language. However, God’s Word speaks with unmistakable clarity once we understand what terms like Hades, Sheol, and Gehenna actually mean.

Let us think clearly about this matter, for the truth of Christ’s death and resurrection deserves nothing less than our most careful attention.

The Root of the Confusion: Words Matter

Much of our confusion stems from a problem as simple as translation. Scripture employs three distinct words to describe the afterlife, each with its own meaning:

  • Sheol (Old Testament): The realm of the dead—a shadowy place where all departed souls once dwelt
  • Hades (New Testament): The Greek equivalent of Sheol—the temporary abode of the dead
  • Gehenna: The place of final, eternal punishment—what we properly call hell

Here lies the problem: older English translations, particularly the King James Version, routinely render all three of these words as “hell,” even though they carry distinct meanings. Imagine the muddle this creates! It’s rather like using the word ‘home’ to describe a house, a hotel, and a prison all at once.

Consider Acts 2.27, which in the King James reads: “Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell.” But the Greek word Peter quotes from the Psalms is Hades, not Gehenna. Peter is declaring that God would not abandon Jesus to the realm of the dead—the temporary holding place of departed souls. He is not saying Jesus entered the fires of eternal judgment.

This distinction matters immensely. To collapse these words into one English term is to blur what God has made clear.

The Apostles’ Creed and Historical Development

Many point to the Apostles’ Creed, which states that Christ “descended into hell,” as proof of this doctrine. But even here, history reveals something important: this phrase did not appear in the earliest versions of the Creed. When they first added the term, they translated it as “Hades” instead of “hell.” This translation emphasizes that Jesus did not suffer punishment; instead, He truly died and entered the realm of the dead.

The Creed intended to combat early heresies that denied Jesus’ full humanity. The Creed was saying, in effect: “He really died. His death was no illusion.” This statement is orthodox truth. But somewhere along the way, “descended into Hades” morphed in popular understanding into “descended into hell,” and theological precision—accurately understanding and articulating biblical truths—gave way to theological confusion.

Medieval Imagination and the “Harrowing of Hell”

If you’ve seen medieval art or passion plays, you’ve likely encountered dramatic depictions of Jesus storming the gates of hell, releasing captives, and binding Satan in chains. These images are vivid, memorable, and deeply rooted in Christian culture. There’s only one problem: none of it comes from Scripture.

The so-called “Harrowing of Hell” developed from apocryphal writings—texts that early Christians never accepted as inspired Scripture. These stories captured the imagination and found expression in art, literature, and liturgy throughout the medieval period. They tell a good story, but they are not God’s story.

Here we must be discerning. Just because something appears in Christian tradition does not mean it appears in Christian Scripture. We honor the past, yes, but we bow only to the authority of God’s revealed Word.

What About 1 Peter 3.19–20?

Some appeal to 1 Peter 3.19, where Peter writes that Christ “went and preached to the spirits in prison.” At first glance, this might seem to support the idea that Jesus descended into hell to preach. But look closer.

Peter never uses the word Gehenna here. He doesn’t say Jesus entered the place of eternal punishment. The “spirits in prison” likely refers to the fallen angels of Genesis 6 or to the souls of the disobedient from Noah’s day. And the “preaching” mentioned is not an offer of salvation—it’s a proclamation of victory.

Think of it: Would the triumphant, risen Christ journey to hell to offer redemption to those who had already rejected God? This concept contradicts everything Scripture teaches about the finality of death and judgment, which means that once a person dies, they face judgment (Hebrews 9.27). What Peter describes is not an evangelistic campaign in the underworld, but a declaration of Christ’s conquest over sin, death, and the powers of darkness.

Where Did Jesus Actually Go?

Scripture answers this question with beautiful simplicity:

  • His body was laid in the tomb (Matthew 27.59–60)
  • His spirit went to Hades—specifically to Paradise, the place of blessing for the righteous dead (Luke 23.43)
  • God did not abandon Him there (Acts 2.27, 31)
  • He rose victoriously on the third day (1 Corinthians 15.4)

Notice what Jesus promised the thief on the cross: “Today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23.43). Not hell. Not torment. Paradise—the blessed side of Hades, where the righteous awaited the resurrection.

Hades is the temporary realm of the dead, not the final hell. It is the waiting room, not the eternal chamber. Jesus never set foot in Gehenna, the place prepared for the devil and his angels (Matthew 25.41). To say otherwise is to add to Scripture what God never said.

Why This Matters

Why be so careful about these distinctions? Because truth matters. Because God’s Word deserves precision. Because the gospel itself is at stake.

If Jesus suffered the fires of hell as part of our redemption, then His sacrifice on the cross was incomplete. But Scripture declares that on the cross, Jesus cried, “It is finished” (John 19.30). The payment was complete. He accomplished His work. He descended into death, yes—but not into damnation. This reaffirms the fullness of our redemption and the security of our faith in Christ.

God’s sovereignty shines through this truth. He orchestrated redemption exactly as He planned—through the death, burial, and resurrection of His Son. Jesus conquered death by entering it and emerging victorious. He didn’t storm the gates of hell; He broke the chains of death itself.

Conclusion: Death Conquered, Not Hell Invaded

The belief that Jesus “went to hell” is born from translation confusion, historical development, medieval imagination, and misinterpreted Scripture. But when we let God’s Word speak for itself, the picture becomes clear: Jesus entered Hades—the realm of the dead—and triumphed over it.

He truly died. He truly descended into the domain of death. And He truly rose again, bringing life and immortality to light through the gospel (2 Timothy 1.10).

What practical difference does this make? Everything. Because Jesus conquered death—not hell—we can face our own mortality with confidence. “Because I live,” Jesus said, “you also will live” (John 14.19). That’s not just doctrine; that’s hope. That’s victory. That’s the gospel.

So let us speak carefully about these things. Let us honor Scripture’s precision. And let us marvel at the One who entered death’s dark valley and emerged with the keys of death and Hades in His victorious hand (Revelation 1.18). He didn’t invade hell—He abolished death. And because He lives, we shall live also.

The Comfort Of Complacency

Carl Pollard

Church attendance in western culture has shifted toward a consumer model: people want inspiration, community, and moral reinforcement without reciprocal obligation. 

Surveys from Barna and Pew consistently show that active involvement (serving in ministries, financial giving beyond easy amounts, discipleship) hovers below 20% in most congregations. So around 1 in 5 people in the church are actively involved and growing. 

This pattern reflects a deliberate preference for low-pressure environments. People gravitate toward churches that minimize demands on time, energy, and resources, creating a feedback loop where leaders, fearing decline, reduce expectations to retain attendance. The result is a complacent church that prioritizes comfort over transformation.

Scripture offers us helpful insights. In Matthew 25:14–30, the parable of the talents illustrates stewardship as non-negotiable. The servant who buries his talent is not condemned for incompetence but for inaction rooted in fear and misunderstanding of the master’s character (v. 25). In the same way, modern complacency often stems from a distorted view of grace, treating it as permission to coast instead of power to grow. 

Paul counters this in Ephesians 2:8–10: salvation is “not by works,” yet Christian’s are “created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand.” The text puts grace before works, but never severs them. Involvement is not additive to faith; it is its evidence!

James 2:14–17 provides more clarity: faith without action is “dead,” not deficient, but non-existent in functional terms. A body without movement is a corpse. Complacent churches foster spiritual necrosis: members gather, sing, and leave unchanged. The pressure to engage, whether through serving, giving, or accountability, is not manipulative; it is medicinal. 

Hebrews 10:24 uses the verb paroxysmon (“spur” or “provoke”), a term elsewhere negative (Acts 15:39), here used to describe mutual exhortation. Healthy tension is intrinsic to growth.

Psychologically, avoidance of pressure is (what people smarter than me call) “loss-aversion bias.” This is where the perceived cost of involvement outweighs anticipated benefits.

Theologically, it reveals a failure to grasp the church’s identity. The church is not a service provider but a body (1 Corinthians 12:12–27), where each member’s function is non-optional. Passive behavior disrupts organic unity and destroys our ability to live out the mission Jesus left us (Matt. 28:18-20). 

This article isn’t about putting down the church, but a call to disciplined obedience. Leaders must model and teach expectation without compulsion; members must embrace responsibility without resentment. The goal is not busyness but faithfulness. Complacency, however lovingly cloaked, dishonors the cost of redemption and delays the kingdom’s advance. Grace equips; it does not excuse. 

The question isn’t whether pressure belongs in church, but whether the church belongs to Christ.

Why The Restoration?

Gary Pollard

As I’ve mentioned in a previous article, a well-intentioned man named Rufinus made significant changes to Origen’s writings when he translated them from Greek into Latin. Unfortunately, the overwhelming majority of what has survived to this day is Rufinus’s Latin text. My goal in this series is to restore the text as it would’ve been read in Greek — before Rufinus’s sometimes radical changes. 

So how does anyone restore a text if most of it’s in Latin? Thankfully, sections of these books have survived in the original Greek — especially Book III. This allows us to read the Latin and Greek texts side-by-side. Rufinus was also kind enough to write a preface for Book III, explaining further why he made the changes he made. 

To be abundantly clear, I am not qualified to do serious textual criticism. While I’m interested in Greek and have studied it for some years now, I’m not nearly competent enough to do this unaided. For several weeks, I painstakingly worked on the text of Book I using the resources at my disposal (most helpfully Dr. Begley’s dissertation containing a critical apparatus for De Principiis). I compared this to what survives of Peri Archon, as well as Philocalia. 

Then I used ChatGPT 4 to read every scrap of Greek text written by or quoting Origen himself. From this, ChatGPT was able to make a profile of the way Origen thought and spoke, and what he believed. It would flag texts that appeared to be redacted based on several criteria — e.g. words, traditions, teachings, or beliefs that weren’t seen prior to the 4th century, and the use of Latinisms. I check these flagged texts myself, especially when they may be controversial. AI fatigue is real, and I’m no AI apologist. However, the fact that some are now far more “intelligent” than any one human is well-established. This should keep my own bias out of the text as much as possible, and has provided a very helpful critical apparatus. 

To demonstrate how needed this textual restoration is, I will share Rufinus’s Preface to Book III and a single verse of the same book translated from both Latin and Greek. I highly recommend reading an interlinear translation of Book III on your own so you can see the more egregious errors for yourself.

Preface of Rufinus, Book III

Reader, remember me when you pray so we may both emulate the spirit. I translated the last two books on The Principles, not only because you asked me to, but also because of the pressure you put on me during the days of Lent. Since you, my devout brother Macarius, were living closer to me and had more free time back then, I worked even harder on the books. It has taken me longer to translate these last two books, partially because you now live far away and haven’t had to hurry me on. 

Don’t forget what I warned you about in my first preface — some people will get angry if I don’t speak evil of Origen. I’m sure you’ve already experienced this yourself! But if those daemons who compel people to slander are so enraged by Origen’s first two books (in which he has not yet fully revealed their secrets), what do you think they’ll do about these last two? In these books, Origen exposes all of the dark and subtle ways that they take over the hearts of men, and deceive weak, unstable souls. 

You should expect to see many things thrown into confusion, seditions stirred up, and plenty of fuss raised. You should expect the person who makes these texts available to be summoned for condemnation; what do you expect when someone tries to dispel daemonic darkness with the light of the Gospel? 

This isn’t a big deal for anyone more concerned with being trained in divine learning, though. We just have to maintain the integrity of the rule of Catholic faith while we do so. I’ll remind you that I’m still observing the same principles I did in the former two books: 

  1. I won’t translate anything that appears to contradicts Origen’s other teachings. 
  2. I won’t translate anything that contradicts our own beliefs. I’ll skip those as if they were forged by others. 

If he talks about intelligent beings (a subject that does not threaten the essence of our faith), I’ll keep those texts for the sake of discussion and of adding to our knowledge. If I have to refute some heretical opinions, I’ll mention them. If he repeats the heresy in another book, I’ll just omit it. 

If anyone wants to read these passages purely to expand their knowledge (and not to raise stupid objections), it would be best to have someone qualified explain it to them. Who would use a grammar expert to explain the finer aspects of poetry or comedy? Who tries to learn things spoken by God or the “heavenly virtues” without a master interpreter? It’s too easy to make mistakes and fall into some pagan error or heresy. 

It is typical human nature to harshly and ignorantly condemn things that are obscure and difficult, rather than to try to understand them fully through great effort and study. 

Book III, 3 from Greek: 

Human beings, unlike other animals, not only have imagination but also reason. Reason helps us judge our thoughts and mental images—it rejects some and approves others—so that we can act according to sound judgment. Because reason naturally helps us recognize virtue and vice, we can choose good over evil. When we choose to live rightly, we deserve praise; when we choose the opposite, we deserve blame.

Still, we shouldn’t ignore the fact that different creatures have these abilities in varying degrees. For example, hunting dogs and warhorses have instincts that come surprisingly close to reason in some ways. Now, when something outside of us triggers a thought, feeling, or impulse, that’s not something we can always control. But what is within our control is how we respond—whether we decide to use that experience in a good way or a bad one. This power of choice belongs only to our reason, which can guide us either toward what is virtuous and fitting or away from it.

Book III, 3 from Latin: 

Human beings, unlike other animals, not only have natural instincts and impulses but also possess reason to a much greater degree. This reason allows us to judge our natural urges—rejecting some and approving others—so that our actions can be guided toward a good and honorable life. Because reason enables us to tell the difference between right and wrong and to choose what we recognize as good, we deserve praise when we make good choices and blame when we choose what is evil or shameful.

It’s worth noting, though, that some animals seem to act with a kind of order or intelligence—like hunting dogs or warhorses—which might look like reason. But this isn’t truly rational thought; it’s an instinct they’ve been naturally given for their particular roles.

As we’ve already said, since human nature is rational, certain things can happen to us from the outside—through sight, hearing, or our other senses—that stir us toward good or bad thoughts and actions. Because these things come from outside ourselves, we can’t control their arrival. But we can control how we respond to them. It’s the job of our reason—our inner judgment—to decide how to use these experiences. Guided by reason, we can direct our natural impulses toward good actions or, if we choose poorly, toward the opposite.

The I AM

Dale Pollard

God speaks of Himself as simply “I Am.” This is one powerful statement depicts His infinite presence and His existence through every age. What does it mean to know Him? How do you know if you do? To know of Jesus is very different than knowing Him. 

John is one of those books in the New Testament that will help us to become better aquatinted with the Christ. It’s the last of the gospels that paints a vivid picture of who He was and is on a deeper level than even the three previous gospels. He’s the Bread of life, Light of the world, the Gate, Good Shepherd, Resurrection and Life, the Truth, and the Vine. All of these titles found within the book teach us a little more about the Savior of the world. 

There are seven “I Am” statements in John referring to Jesus and three hundred throughout the entire Bible. They begin in Genesis and end in Revelation, and in many books in-between. You just can’t read very far without discovering something very profound about its Writer. He’s eternal. God’s desired response to this is simply for us to believe, respond, and live with our minds and hearts prepared to live with Him. When Jesus describes Himself as the “I Am” it makes the religious leaders want to kill Him (John 8). 

To know Jesus, to really know Him, is something that many people have not fully understood. Even as Jesus walked among us mortals and we witnessed His miraculous power there were still several that didn’t realize what it meant to follow Him (Luke 9:57-62). While it’s true that everyone is made in the image of God, few reflect the Father’s image. 

Those that know Jesus introduce others to Him. With the knowledge that we are imperfect, let’s not forget that we also have the ability to have a relationship with Him. I am flawed and I am weak, but the Great I Am is interested in who I am. By the grace of God, we are called His children. He is the bread of life that sustains us, the light that guides us, the gate we’ll walk through, and the Truth that will save us. It’s not how great I am, but how great the Great I Am is. 

He Survived Four Shipwrecks, Then He Died

Neal Pollard

Many stories have been written about Violet Jessop, a ship stewardess who survived the sinking of the Titanic and the Brittanic. But fewer know about someone who survived twice as many sinkings, including the two survived by Jessop. Arthur Priest, a stoker for the steam-powered ships, survived two major collisions and four shipwrecks. The Asturias was in a collision on its maiden voyage in 1908 and the Olympic survived a collision in 1911. Then, Priest survived the Titanic in 1912, the Alcantra in 1916, the Brittanic in 1916, and the Donegal in 1917. Two of the ships were luxury liners, one was a hospital ship, and the other was an armed merchant cruiser. For the latter, Priest was awarded the Mercantile Marine Ribbon by the British for service in World War I. He sustained a serious head injury on the Donegal, returning to his home in Southampton, England. 

As remarkable as all these survival stories are, Arthur Priest died of pneumonia with his wife Anna by his side in Southampton. He was 50 years old. There is very little information about what he did with a life spared four times from the depths of the sea. We don’t know if he was a religious man, much less a Christian. We don’t know much beyond the fact that he was unsinkable at sea.

Reading about Priest, I thought about a different kind of priest (cf. 1 Pet. 2:5,9) the New Testament tells us about. He wrote, “three times I was shipwrecked, a night and a day I have spent in the deep” (2 Cor. 11:25). We know what this man did with his life, which was cut short in service to an infinitely greater King than the one who was on the throne in Arthur’s lifetime. He was in a war of far more lasting consequence (2 Cor. 10:4-5), and he was decorated for his service in a far more dramatic way (2 Tim. 4:6-8).

The likelihood that you and I will survive even one shipwreck is small. But, like Priest and Paul, we will ultimately die unless the Lord returns first. Even if our lives are not filled with dramatic tales of rescue and unlikely survival, we can leave a legacy of faith and fervor in service to our King (1 Tim. 6:15). We can share Paul’s victory, crowned with the victorious on that last day (Rev. 2:10). 

The Tragedy of Judas: When a Heart Hardens Against Grace

Let us search our hearts with ruthless honesty, bringing every hidden sin, every cherished idol, every secret compromise into the light of Christ’s presence. Let us choose Peter’s path of humble repentance over Judas’s path of proud despair.

Brent Pollard

 The Humanity of Christ in the Face of Betrayal

In John 13:21-30, Christ reveals a profound insight into His humanity. Jesus, with a troubled spirit, revealed the identity of His betrayer through an act of fellowship—the sharing of bread. Jesus’ action was not a casual disclosure. The text reveals a Savior who experienced the weight of impending betrayal with genuine human anguish. He had chosen someone He knew to be a devil (John 6.70), and now the hour had arrived for that devil to execute his dark purpose.

Even in this moment of revelation, we witness Christ’s unwavering mercy. His acknowledgment of what Judas was about to do served as a final lifeline extended to the infamous traitor—one last opportunity to turn back from the precipice. This enduring mercy is a beacon of hope for all of us, reminding us that no matter how far we may have strayed, Christ’s grace is always within reach.

The Hardening Power of Unrepentant Sin

Sadly, Judas’s love of money and his own twisted ambitions had calcified his heart against both the deeds and words of Jesus. He had already negotiated his treachery, his mind fixed on the thirty pieces of silver promised by the chief priests (Matthew 26.14-16). Here we see a sobering truth: sustained exposure to Christ does not guarantee transformation. One can walk in the very presence of the Son of God and yet remain unmoved, unchanged, unredeemed.

The text tells us that “Satan entered” Judas (John 13.27). But what does this mean? We must resist the temptation to absolve Judas of responsibility by imagining some irresistible demonic possession. No, Satan did not override the will of a helpless man. Instead, he exploited the foothold Judas had already granted through his unrepentant sin, his corrosive greed, and his fundamental lack of faith. The phrase “Satan entered” signifies Judas’s complete surrender to the evil influence he had been cultivating in his own heart. It marked a decisive point of no return, the final rejection of Jesus’s appeals to repentance.

The Reality of Moral Agency Even in Darkness

Here we encounter a mystery that the shallow mind cannot fathom: even after Satan entered Judas, he retained sufficient moral agency to feel guilt, to return the blood money to the chief priests, and ultimately to take his own life (Matthew 27.3-5). This remorse, though powerful, was not genuine repentance. True repentance would have driven him to God for forgiveness, as Peter’s denial later drove him to weeping restoration. Instead, Judas’s guilt led only to despair—a worldly sorrow that produces death rather than the godly sorrow that leads to salvation.

James illuminates the progression: a person becomes enslaved to sin by yielding to their own lust. When that lust conceives, it gives birth to sin. When sin reaches full maturity, it brings forth death (James 1.13-15). Judas walked this path to its bitter end, each step a choice, each choice hardening the next.

The Contrast of Two Betrayers: Judas and Peter

The story of Judas serves as a stark warning about the human capacity to reject grace, even when confronted with overwhelming love and unmistakable conviction. While God’s offer of salvation extends to everyone, it requires a willing and humble heart to receive it. Judas’s ultimate fate—despair and suicide—stands in sharp contrast to Peter, who, despite his own devastating denial, turned to Jesus in repentance and received complete forgiveness.

Both men betrayed Christ. Both felt crushing guilt. Yet their responses diverged at the crucial point: Peter ran toward mercy; Judas ran from it. Peter believed forgiveness was possible; Judas believed his sin was unforgivable. This stark contrast serves as a powerful reminder of the impact our choices can have on our lives.

Practical Warning: The Danger of Walking with Jesus Without Surrender

Judas serves as a tragic example of someone who allowed his lust for money and power to lead him toward betrayal and destruction. His story reveals an uncomfortable truth: even people who walk closely with Jesus, witness His miracles, hear His teachings, and participate in His ministry can fall prey to the temptations of this world if they do not genuinely surrender their hearts.

What distinguished Judas from the other disciples was not the absence of sin—they all sinned—but the presence of unrepentant, cherished sin that he refused to bring into the light.

Closing: A Call to Self-Examination

The question Judas’s life poses to each of us is searingly personal: Are we cultivating hardness in our hearts through unconfessed sin? Are we, like Judas, close to Jesus in proximity but distant in devotion? Do we serve Him with our hands while withholding our hearts? The grace that could have saved Judas is the same grace offered to us today. But grace must be received, not merely observed. You should embrace it rather than acknowledge it.

Let us search our hearts with ruthless honesty, bringing every hidden sin, every cherished idol, every secret compromise into the light of Christ’s presence. Let us choose Peter’s path of humble repentance over Judas’s path of proud despair. The same Christ who extended mercy to His betrayer still extends it to us—but we must reach out and take hold of it before our hearts grow too hard to feel His touch. The time to respond is now, while the Spirit still speaks, while grace still calls, while the door of repentance remains open. Tomorrow may find us, like Judas, having crossed a point of no return that we never saw coming.

Dealing With Sin Aggressively

Sin won’t quit on its own. It has to be killed. The Bible doesn’t offer a gentle plan; it hands us a sword. Cut off the hand. Gouge out the eye. Put the old nature to death. This is love for the One who died so we could live free.

Carl Pollard

I was listening to a preacher on Facebook the other day and he said something that made me think. He said, “stop treating your sin like a pet, it’s time for us to deal aggressively with our sin!” I started looking for all the places in scripture that this concept is described. 

Jesus is clear: “If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell” (Matthew 5:29,). Sin isn’t a bad habit to manage, it’s a deadly growth that has to be cut out. The Bible never tells us to make peace with it. It tells us to kill it. That’s the normal Christian life.

Paul is clear: “So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me” (Romans 7:17). That word “dwells” means sin has set up camp inside us. It’s not a visitor; it’s a squatter that wrecks everything it touches. The only answer is eviction, forceful, immediate, and final. The Spirit is the one who hands us the tools.

Colossians 3:5 is clear: “Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.” “Put to death” is a command to act now, not later. It’s not about slow improvement; it’s execution. Lust doesn’t get a warning, it gets killed. Greed doesn’t get an excuse, it gets the cross. Every morning we take sin’s corpse out to the curb.

Jesus continues: “And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away” (Matthew 5:30). He’s using strong language on purpose. If something in your life, your phone, your habits, your friendships, keeps tripping you up, get rid of it. No debate. The word “causes you to sin” is the same one used for setting a trap. Whatever sets the trap has to go.

Romans 8:13 shows how we win: “For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” Notice it’s “by the Spirit.” We don’t grit our teeth and try harder. We pray, read Scripture, fast, and stay accountable, then the Spirit does the heavy lifting. This is daily, ongoing war, not a one-time fix.

Sin won’t quit on its own. It has to be killed. The Bible doesn’t offer a gentle plan; it hands us a sword. Cut off the hand. Gouge out the eye. Put the old nature to death. This is love for the One who died so we could live free. Fighting sin hard is just what grace looks like in real life. Start today: name the sin, grab the weapon, trust the Spirit. Eternity is too close for anything less.

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book Two, Ch. 3.3-4)

Gary Pollard

(A Continuing Modernization Of This Work Of An Early Church Father)

Here are some questions that people who believe intelligent beings may someday exist without any kind of body at all could ask. If it’s true that “this corruptible will put on incorruption, and this mortal will put on immortality,”and if it’s true that death will finally be swallowed up — what is death destroying? Death can only affect material bodies. Even brilliant minds locked in a physical body seem to be negatively affected by their bodies. 

However, if those brilliant minds were able to exist without any physical body, they would be immune to the negative interference of a body. This couldn’t happen all at once, though. We should think of this transition as being in stages — each one more bright and refined than the former. These bodies are no longer vulnerable to death or the sting of decay. So, through the gradual dissolution of the basic material form, death is finally absorbed and destroyed. Its power to sting is blunted by the transcendent grace that every purified, expanded consciousness is finally able to receive. This is how a soul attains incorruption and immortality. Then, in the words of the scriptures, all will be able to say, “Death, where is your victory? Where is your power to hurt? The sting of sin is death.” 

If any of these conclusions are sound, then it only makes sense that our destiny at the end is to be “bodiless”. And if everything is put under Christ’s control, then everyone under his control would also be bodiless. Everyone subject to Christ is also subject to the Father — and Christ will hand the kingdom to him. When this final order comes, there won’t be any need for a body, and material substances will return to nonexistence, as they were before creation. 

Now let’s see if we can refute this thinking. If material bodies were actually to be dissolved into nothing, wouldn’t they have to be restored and created again by a special act of God? Intelligent beings always have free will — so wouldn’t they decide to do stuff and make choices? Otherwise that constant state of non-change might cause them to forget that their stable condition is because of God’s grace and not their own actions. Whenever they start moving again, they will necessarily bring a whole new variety of bodies. We see this diversity on earth already. The earth can’t be all one thing! There’s always variety and differences, and these can’t exist without some kind of material form. Because of this, I can’t understand the reasoning of people who argue that the new worlds will be exact copies of the ones before them.1 

If the next world was identical this one in every way, then Adam and Eve would have to make the choice as before; the flood would come again; the same Moses would lead the same 600,000 out of Egypt; Judas would betray Jesus again; Paul would again hold the coats of those who stoned Stephen; in general, every event that’s ever happened would happen again. There’s no rational defense for this line of reasoning — unless we claim that souls don’t have free will, which is what they use to grow or decline based on their own decisions. 

We know that consciousnesses aren’t forced onto a circular path that returns them to the same beginning and the same decisions for infinity. Instead, their own choices determine the outcome of their actions. To argue otherwise is as crazy as claiming that if a medimnus (12 gallons) of grain was poured onto the ground again and again, each kernel would fall exactly where it had fallen before. Then the whole heap would be in the same arrangement and pattern as the first pour. This is impossible, of course, due to the sheer number of grains! Even if we poured over and over again for innumerable ages, we couldn’t get every single grain to fall in the same order as the first pour. 

Therefore, it seems impossible to me that any world should be identical to a previous one, with the same order, the same number of births and deaths, or the same actions. But that there should be a series of worlds — each fairly different from the other — seems perfectly reasonable. Maybe some would be better, others worse, and still others a mixed bag or happy medium. As to how many of those worlds there are, or what they look like, I freely admit that I have no clue. But if anyone can show it, I would gladly learn.  

 1 Stoics argued that the world was cyclically destroyed by fire (εκπυρωσις) and reborn exactly like the previous world. Origen emphasizes free will (αυτεξουσια), proving that no two worlds can be identical if the intelligences in them have the power to choose. 

What Is A Blessed Day?

Dale Pollard

 After the six days of creation God rested (Gen. 2.2). The word rest literally meant to stop or, according to Strongs, “desist from exertion” (H7673). Once He finished His work, God does something else that carries a mysterious significance— God blessed a day. So what does that actually mean? Looking at our passage (Gen. 2.3) it says that He does two things and the two verbs that are used are important to help us grasp what’s being said. God blessed the seventh day and made it holy. 

 Blessed (barak): 

 In ancient Hebrew thought, to bless something was to fill it with life, fruitfulness, or some kind of ongoing benefit. When God blesses living creatures (both man and beast), they multiply (Gen. 1.22, 28, 9.1). When He blesses the seventh day, He bestows on time itself some kind of divine favor. It was a day that gives spiritual renewal rather than physical productivity. Maybe all the details of that won’t be fully understood or appreciated on this side of eternity. 

 Made holy (qadash): 

 To “make holy” meant to set apart. This is also the first time in the Bible that anything is called holy — not a place or an object, but a day. The early Hebrew understanding saw the seventh day as more than a simple pause in labor. God gave them this and He made it a healthy spiritual function of creation. 

 What’s so significant about all that? This is God blending the spiritual and physical elements of His creation together. It wasn’t like a model train that a boy puts together just for fun. This was proof that existence would be more than a complex physical shell. God “created” an entire day, in part, so we could reflect on that.

The High Cost Of Stubbornness

Neal Pollard

As I write this, the government shutdown is in day 33. This is two days short of the longest shutdown that spanned from December 2018 into late January, 2019. Both Republicans and Democrats refuse to surrender their positions, each blaming the other and trying to gain the sympathy of the general public. Meanwhile, those who depend on SNAP, WIC, and other such services face disruption. Millions of federal workers, including the military, TSA, border patrol agents, federal firefighters, and more, are working without pay. The strain and stress on them is understandably high.

Regardless of whose, if anyone’s, side you take, you appreciate the frustrating side-effects of an unwillingness to yield and compromise. From the outside looking in, you may think how easily this could be resolved if each side would concede. Each believes they will be showing weakness and losing if they give in.

In my life, regarding non-political situations, I have seen people in positions of leadership and influence publicly say in humility, “I was wrong” or “I am sorry.” Never once did I hear anyone lose respect for them. In fact, the opposite occurred. Their stock, in every instance, went up in people’s eyes. We love to witness is, but we hate to exhibit it. A humble, heartfelt apology or concession can lead to peace, harmony, and unity.

An inspired apostle wrote, “Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Eph. 4:1-3). If that spirit was embraced by all, we would never have stalemates and impasses like we are witnessing now. And while we cannot affect what’s currently happening in Washington, D.C. right now, think of the many areas where we can avoid costly episodes of stubbornness.

What about in your marriage? Do you ever experience relationship shutdowns there? What about in your local congregation? Fellowship shutdowns? In just about any instance where you are called to interrelate with people, on the job, with family, or even in casual daily transactions, you are at least partially responsible for whether or not costly shutdowns occur. 

I wonder how many souls will be lost because of the cost of stubbornness, whether a pride that refuses to repent or obey the gospel or that will not make amends. Look up passages that describe people as “stiff-necked” or those who had “stubborn and rebellious hearts” and see how God felt about it. Suffice it to say, the cost will exceed the approximately $7 billion being conservatively estimated in the current senate stalemate. How many souls will someday be lost due to the high cost of stubbornness? 

Halloween: A Reflection on Darkness and Light

Brent Pollard

A Matter of Personal Conviction

Whether or not a Christian should take part in Halloween festivities is ultimately a matter of personal conviction and conscience. As Paul wrote, “Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind” (Romans 14.5). I respect that there is a difference between believers attending wholesome community events—such as church-sponsored “trunk-or-treats”—and those who embrace the world’s fascination with the macabre. However, I want to caution Christians not to join the world in celebrating darkness, fear, and death.

Jesus taught that His followers are to be “the light of the world” (Matthew 5.14). How can we reflect His light if we participate in a celebration that often glorifies the very darkness we are called to overcome (Ephesians 5.8–11)?

The Pagan Origins of Halloween

Halloween’s origins trace back to the Celtic festival of Samhain, which marked the end of the harvest and the start of winter. The Celts believed that on this night, the barrier between the living and the dead weakened, allowing spirits to roam freely. To protect themselves, they lit bonfires and wore disguises to confuse wandering souls.

Scripture repeatedly warns against attempts to communicate with or ward off the dead. God told Israel, “There shall not be found among you… a medium or a necromancer or one who inquires of the dead” (Deuteronomy 18.10–11). Though today’s observance may seem harmless, its roots were steeped in superstition and fear of spirits rather than faith in God’s providence.

Roman Influence and Ancient Traditions

When Rome conquered Celtic lands, two Roman observances were merged with Samhain—one honoring the dead (Feralia) and the other celebrating Pomona, the goddess of fruit and trees. Some historians suggest that the custom of bobbing for apples originated from Pomona’s symbol, the apple.

This blending of pagan and civic ritual was typical of the ancient world. Yet Christians are urged not to conform to the world’s customs (Romans 12.2) or mix holy devotion with pagan superstition (2 Corinthians 6.14–17).

The Catholic Church and All Saints’ Day

In 609 AD, Boniface IV consecrated the Roman Pantheon to “All Saints,” creating a day to honor Christian martyrs. This celebration, later shifted to November 1 in the eighth century by Gregory III, is now called All Saints’ Day or All Hallows’ Day. The night before—All Hallows’ Eve—gradually evolved into “Halloween.”

Later, All Souls’ Day (November 2) was added to pray for all departed believers, forming a three-day observance known as Hallowtide. The intent may have been to Christianize pagan customs, but as with many such efforts, the old superstitions persisted under new names.

How Halloween Came to America

Medieval Europeans practiced “souling,” going door to door to offer prayers for the dead in exchange for food. Children later began “guising,” dressing in costumes to receive gifts. These traditions were brought to America by Irish and Scottish immigrants. In America, pumpkins replaced turnips as lanterns, and Halloween evolved into a largely secular, community-centered celebration.

However, Christians should remember that not all cultural inheritance is worth keeping. Paul reminded the Corinthians that while “everything is permissible,” not everything is beneficial (1 Corinthians 10.23).

The Dark Turn: From Pranks to Violence

From the late 1800s through the early 20th century, Halloween was often marked by destructive mischief—toppled outhouses, broken fences, and vandalized property. Communities responded by encouraging “trick-or-treating” as a safer alternative, channeling youthful energy into friendly fun instead of lawlessness (cf. Romans 13.10).

The Wholesome Era: Mid-Century Innocence

For several decades, Halloween reflected a more innocent, child-centered character. The imagery of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966) captures that gentler spirit. But this era was short-lived. Beginning with Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho and crystallized by 1978’s Halloween, the holiday once again took a darker tone. Instead of laughter and imagination, horror and bloodshed became its trademarks.

Modern Halloween: A Culture of Fear and Death

Today, many Halloween attractions and films glorify brutality and fear. The Saw franchise, “haunted” attractions that simulate torture, and “extreme haunts” that require liability waivers all reveal a troubling fascination with terror and pain. This fascination often crosses the line from harmless fun to a celebration of evil. The prophet Isaiah’s warning feels relevant: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness” (Isaiah 5.20).

When society laughs at what should make it grieve, something vital has been lost. As Thomas Aquinas noted, when fear and cruelty turn into entertainment, compassion withers.

What Does the Bible Say About Halloween?

The Bible does not explicitly mention Halloween, but its principles still apply. We are told to “abstain from every form of evil” (1 Thessalonians 5.22) and to think on “whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable” (Philippians 4.8). These principles guide our decision-making and help us discern what is beneficial to our faith.

Christ’s victory over darkness is total. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1.5). We do not need to dabble in darkness to prove our courage or find excitement. Our joy comes from walking in the light (1 John 1.7).

Practicing Christian Discernment on Halloween

Discernment is essential. Paul commands, “Abhor what is evil; cling to what is good” (Romans 12.9). The question isn’t whether a Christian can hand out candy or dress up—it’s whether we are celebrating fear or reflecting faith.

Our participation should always glorify Christ (Colossians 3.17). If we choose to engage with the day at all, let it be to share light, kindness, and the gospel with our neighbors. “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12.21).

Conclusion: Light in the Midst of Darkness

On a night when much of the world delights in fear, the Christian’s calling is to stand as a beacon of peace and truth. Rather than imitating the darkness, we can offer an alternative—a message of victory through Christ, who conquered death itself. Let us be inspired to be that beacon, to share the light of Christ in the midst of darkness.

“For once you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light” (Ephesians 5.8).

Seven Sins God Hates

In Catholic tradition, the seven deadly sins, pride, envy, gluttony, lust, anger, greed, and laziness, are well-known, but they were formalized by Pope Gregory the Great in the sixth century and while they are rooted in Scripture, that list was put together by man. Yet, while we strive to avoid them, Proverbs 6:16-19 reveals another list of seven things a loving God explicitly hates.

Carl Pollard

In Catholic tradition, the seven deadly sins, pride, envy, gluttony, lust, anger, greed, and laziness, are well-known, but they were formalized by Pope Gregory the Great in the sixth century and while they are rooted in Scripture, that list was put together by man. Yet, while we strive to avoid them, Proverbs 6:16-19 reveals another list of seven things a loving God explicitly hates. These aren’t mere dislikes, they evoke divine disgust and anger, offending His holiness and fracturing His design for human living. Even in the church, we wrestle with these sins. But through Jesus Christ, forgiveness and victory are ours. Let’s examine Proverbs 6:16-19, and learn what our loving God hates. 

The Sin of Pride

Proverbs 6:17 starts with “haughty eyes” a look of arrogance exalting self above others and God. This is pride, an inflated self-worth forgetting that “anything good in us is the result of Christ living in us” (Galatians 2:20). Philippians 2:3 commands humility: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.” The Pharisees’ self-righteousness blinded them to grace (Luke 18:9-14), and Paul received a “thorn in the flesh” to curb pride (2 Corinthians 12:7). Pride precedes destruction (Proverbs 16:18). Humble yourself; James 4:10 promises exaltation from God. Confess and glorify Christ.

The Sin of Deceit

God hates “a lying tongue” (Proverbs 6:17), as He is truth (John 14:6). Lies deceive, ruin reputations, or flatter falsely, the devil’s domain (John 8:44). Ananias and Sapphira died for deceit (Acts 5:1-11). Do we twist truth for gain? Keep lips from deceit (Psalm 34:13). Speak truth in love (Ephesians 4:15) and seek God’s purity in words.

The Sin of Murder

“Hands that shed innocent blood” (Proverbs 6:17) violate life in God’s image (Genesis 1:27). Jesus equates anger and hatred with murder (Matthew 5:21-24; 1 John 3:15). Cain exemplifies its sin (Genesis 4:8). Harbor no hatred. Live peaceably (Romans 12:18) and pursue reconciliation.

The Sin of Evil Intent

A “heart that devises wicked plans” (Proverbs 6:18) plots harm for gain, like David’s scheme against Uriah (2 Samuel 11). The heart is deceitful (Jeremiah 17:9). Entertain no revenge. Pray for a clean heart (Psalm 51:10) and surrender to Christ.

The Sin of Eagerness for Wrongdoing

“Feet that are quick to rush into evil” (Proverbs 6:18) yield without resistance. Eve instantly grasped the forbidden fruit (Genesis 3:6), unlike Jesus resisting Satan (Matthew 4:1-11). Do we chase gossip or temptation? Resist the devil (James 4:7) and offer yourselves to God (Romans 6:12-13).

The Sin of Perjury

A “false witness who pours out lies” (Proverbs 6:19) perverts justice, as Jezebel did to Naboth (1 Kings 21:8-14), breaking the ninth commandment. As new creations, reflect truth (2 Corinthians 5:17; Colossians 3:9-10). Put away falsehood (Ephesians 4:25) and honor God honestly.

The Sin of Division

One who “stirs up dissension among brothers” (Proverbs 6:19) shatters unity (Psalm 133:1). Absalom rebelled selfishly (2 Samuel 15). Jesus prayed for oneness (John 17:21); peacemakers are blessed (Matthew 5:9). Love one another (1 Thessalonians 4:9) and build the body of Christ.

These sins, haughty eyes, lying tongue, hands shedding innocent blood, wicked-planning heart, feet rushing to evil, false witness, and dissension-sower defy God’s holiness and love. Yet, no sin exceeds His grace. “The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23). Jesus bore our penalty, offering redemption (Ephesians 1:7).

Examine your heart: Which sin lingers? Repent, seek accountability, and pursue holiness through Gods Word. Church, live as redeemed, reflecting Christ’s love in a broken world.

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book 2, Ch. 3.1-2)

Gary Pollard

(Continuing modernizing translation of this work by one of the early church fathers)

The next question to explore is whether there was a world before this one. Was it like this one? Was it different? Was it worse? Or was there no world at all, but something like what we’re told will follow the end of all things, when “the kingdom will be handed over to God the Father”? Perhaps that very state was the conclusion of an earlier world—one which ended before this present one began.

We must also ask if the failings of intelligent beings compelled God to bring about this diverse and changeable world. And once this present world ends, will there be any hope of change and improvement for those who refused to obey the word of God? It would be harsh and painful, of course, but would serve as a way for them to attain a fuller understanding of the truth. Could this exist for those kinds of people so they could have their minds purified, and only then be capable of attaining divine wisdom? 

After this, the final end of all things would come. Then, maybe, there would be another world, for the restoration or improvement of those who still need it—perhaps like the present one, or better, or much worse. We must also consider how long that coming world, whatever its form, would last. Would there be a time when no world will exist at all? Was there ever a time when no world existed? Have there ever been (or would there ever be) many worlds? At some point in the future, would there ever be a world identical to one that came before it? 

To try to clarify some of these questions, let’s ask whether matter can continue to exist through intervals of time, or, just as it once did not exist before it was made, it may at some point return to nonexistence1. We should first consider whether it’s possible for any intelligent being to live without a body. If even one could do so, then perhaps all could exist without bodies, since our earlier argument has shown that all things move toward one common end. 

But if everything could exist without a body, then there would be no purpose for matter at all. If that’s the case, how are we supposed to understand the apostle’s words about the resurrection of the dead? He said, “This body that decays will have put on one that cannot decay. Then the saying will be fulfilled, ‘Death is swallowed in victory! Where is your sting, Death? Your sting has been destroyed: sin is your sting, and sin’s power comes from the law.’” 

In speaking of “this body that decays” and “this mortal,” the apostle seems to explicitly point to the very substance of the body. So, this same bodily matter, which decays, will “put on incorruption” when inhabited by the perfected soul—one with the marks of incorruptibility. We shouldn’t be surprised that the soul is called “the clothing of the body”, for it adorns and conceals its mortal nature.

[Just as Christ Himself, the Creator and Lord of the soul, is said to be the clothing of the saints, when it is written: Put on the Lord Jesus Christ.]

In this way, the soul is said to clothe the body the same way Christ clothes the soul, each according to its own kind of beauty and perfection. So, when the apostle says, “This corruptible must put on incorruption,” he speaks of the body’s transformation through the presence of a soul perfected in wisdom. And when he says, “This mortal must put on immortality,” he shows that the body, once joined to such a soul, will be immortal. Anything living is necessarily also capable of decaying; but not everything corruptible is alive. We may say that wood or stone is capable of decay, but we don’t think of them as being alive. Because life can be taken from a body, we consider it to be mortal and capable of decay. 

The apostle, with remarkable insight, refers to the twofold cause of bodily transformation: first, the general cause, that matter itself—of whatever quality, coarse or refined, earthly or celestial—is the instrument through which the soul acts; and second, the specific cause, that this body of ours will one day, through divine wisdom and righteousness, receive incorruption and immortality.

[For incorruption and immortality are nothing else than the participation of the soul in God’s own wisdom, word, and righteousness, which shape and adorn it as a garment of divine beauty.] 

Right now, even though we make progress and see dimly through the lens of mortality, our “corruptible” nature hasn’t yet put on incorruption, and our “mortal” hasn’t yet put on immortality. But when the long training of life has completed its purpose—when the Word of God and His Wisdom have completely filled our very being—then this corruptible nature of ours will indeed be clothed with incorruption, and this mortal with immortality.

1 This is likely a Rufinus edit. Origen uses μεταβολη to mean “transformation” in his other writings (Against Celsus IV.35-36; Commentary on Matthew XIII.31-33). His view was that matter (ύλη) was capable of change, but not annihilation. 

Meteorology In The Bible

It’s rainy in Bowling Green Kentucky and you know what that means! Well, maybe you don’t. Either way, we’re diving into the water cycle— found in the Bible. 

Dale Pollard

 It’s rainy in Bowling Green Kentucky and you know what that means! Well, maybe you don’t. Either way, we’re diving into the water cycle— found in the Bible. 

 Long before meteorology became a science, the Bible described the natural water cycle with remarkable (but unsurprising) accuracy. Those ancient writers—without access to modern instruments—somehow came up with a process that closely mirrors our modern understanding of evaporation, condensation, and precipitation. Of course, if you believe the Bible is God’s word, you know exactly how they came to this knowledge. 

 Check out these Biblical Descriptions of the Water Cycle: 

 1. Ecclesiastes 1:7 (ESV) “All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; to the place where the streams flow, there they flow again.” This verse depicts the hydrological cycle—rivers flow to the sea, water evaporates, and returns again as rain. Amazing. Or what about…

 2. Job 36:27–28 “For he draws up the drops of water; they distill his mist in rain, which the skies pour down and drop on mankind abundantly.” This description sounds a lot like the process of condensation. The vapor forms into raindrops, which then fall back to earth. Nice.

 3. Amos 9:6 

“Who builds his upper chambers in the heavens and founds his vault upon the earth; who calls for the waters of the sea and pours them out upon the surface of the earth—the Lord is his name.” 

 Just one more text describing evaporation and rainfall, linked to one great cycle all under divine control. The Bible has a little bit of everything in it and always proves itself to be of heavenly origin.

Making The Most Of Difficult Circumstances

Perhaps you are facing a difficult circumstance. It should not be trivialized or minimized. It might be painful and protracted. But it should neither be the source of defeat or an excuse to stop serving the Lord.

Neal Pollard

In Acts 28:16, Luke tells us that when Paul came to Rome he was allowed to stay by himself (in a house he paid for himself, according to verse 30). However, he was guarded by a Roman soldier. Paul again refers to this in Philippians 1:13, 17, and your version probably has either the word “imprisonment” or “bonds.” Many ancient historians tells us that the Romans would chain the prisoner and soldier together in a practice known as “Custodia Militaris.” Polybius, a Roman historian writing more than a 100 years before the first century, wrote, “They kept them bound with a chain to a soldier who was responsible for their custody” (Histories 1.88.8). Seneca and Josephus also record this practice.

Can you imagine what a daily problem this would have been? Consider the invasion of privacy, the unpredictable disposition of your companion, and the potential for scorn and humiliation? Yet, day after day, Paul would be chained to a soldier. The chains were 18-24 inches long (the British Museum has archaeological finds from the period), and the guards were rotated every four to six hours (Vegetius 3.8). Maybe the last guard was a nice guy, but the next was not so much. It could not have been an enjoyable task for the soldier either, and he might be inclined to take that out on the prisoner. 

But, how did Paul respond? Paul implies what he did as one guard came and another went. “my imprisonment in the cause of Christ has become well known throughout the whole praetorian guard and to everyone else” (Phil. 1:13). These praetorian guards were elite Roman soldiers, also known as the imperial guard. This might further explain how the gospel reached members of Caesar’s household (Phil. 4:22). Imprisoned for preaching Jesus and shackled to worldly, hardened men, Paul taught the gospel. He learned to be content in every circumstance (Phil. 4:11), but that didn’t mean idle or self-absorbed.

Perhaps you are facing a difficult circumstance. It should not be trivialized or minimized. It might be painful and protracted. But it should neither be the source of defeat or an excuse to stop serving the Lord. Paul had a captive audience, literally bound to hear the good news from a man enduring what most would deem a bad fate. He transformed his difficulty into opportunity. May we have the will and wisdom to do the same! 

What Is Truth? When We Know But Won’t Act

It wasn’t a philosophical question. It was the exhausted sigh of a man who had compromised so often that truth had become meaningless. He had traded integrity for security so many times that he no longer recognized the currency.

Brent Pollard

The Man Who Couldn’t Afford Truth

Pontius Pilate governed Judea the way most of us manage our lives—by compromise. A mid-level Roman official ruling a resentful province, he had learned that survival meant bending to political winds. Truth, in his world, was whatever kept Caesar pleased and mobs quiet.

Then Truth walked into his courtroom.

“Are You the King of the Jews?” Pilate asked. Jesus answered, “For this I was born—to bear witness to the truth.”

Pilate’s response exposes every human heart: “What is truth?”

It wasn’t a philosophical question. It was the exhausted sigh of a man who had compromised so often that truth had become meaningless. He had traded integrity for security so many times that he no longer recognized the currency.

The Coward Who Saw Clearly

Here’s what haunts Pilate’s story: he knew.

Three times he declared Jesus innocent. His wife warned him in a dream. His conscience screamed. Yet when the priests threatened—”If you release this man, you are no friend of Caesar”—Pilate’s courage evaporated. He chose career over conscience, comfort over conviction.

Then came his famous gesture: washing his hands before the crowd, announcing, “I am innocent of this man’s blood.”

One cannot wash away guilt if one will not confess. Water cleanses skin, not souls. Pilate’s basin was as empty as his heart.

The Sovereignty in the Surrender

But here’s where God’s purposes shine through human failure: Pilate couldn’t escape his role in redemption. When he ordered the sign above Jesus’ cross—”Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”—the priests demanded he change it. Pilate refused: “What I have written, I have written.”

It was petty revenge, yes—one last jab at those who had cornered him. But beyond Pilate’s passive-aggressive defiance, God was writing truth in permanent ink. The placard that Pilate meant as mockery became prophecy. The “criminal” was indeed the King—not just of Jews, but of Pilate, Rome, and all creation.

God doesn’t need our righteousness to accomplish His purposes. Even our failures serve His sovereign plan.

The Mirror We’d Rather Not See

Pilate is us.

We know what’s right but fear what it costs. We recognize truth but won’t stand for it when the crowd turns hostile. We wash our hands of responsibility while blood stains our souls.

You and I don’t drift into heaven. Neutrality before Christ is impossible—by doing nothing, Pilate crucified Him. Every day we face the same choice: Will we crown Christ as Lord, or dismiss Him when it’s inconvenient?

What Must We Do?

Stop washing your hands. Moral evasion solves nothing. Confession begins where excuses end.

Count the cost, then pay it. Following Christ may cost you approval, comfort, or even advancement. But what profit is there in gaining the world while losing your soul?

Remember who stands before you. Jesus didn’t stand before Pilate—Pilate stood before Jesus. We don’t judge truth; truth judges us.

Act while conscience speaks. Every ignored conviction hardens the heart. Pilate’s tragedy began long before that Friday morning—it started the first time he silenced what he knew was right.

The Final Word

History remembers Pilate not for his power but for his weakness. His name endures not as a hero, but as the coward who asked, “What is truth?” while Truth stood before him.

You and I won’t face Jesus in a Roman court. But we face Him daily in every choice between comfort and courage, between what people think and what God commands.

Pilate’s question remains: What is truth?

Jesus answers: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

The question isn’t whether truth exists. The question is whether we’ll bow to it—or spend our lives washing our hands.

The Debt Of Love

The hymn “Alas and Did My Savior Bleed” captures the heart of the Christian response to Jesus’ sacrifice: “But drops of grief can ne’er repay the debt of love I owe; Here, Lord, I give myself away, ’tis all that I can do.” This “debt of love” isn’t like the $18 trillion in financial debt Americans carry…

Carl Pollard

The hymn “Alas and Did My Savior Bleed” captures the heart of the Christian response to Jesus’ sacrifice: “But drops of grief can ne’er repay the debt of love I owe; Here, Lord, I give myself away, ’tis all that I can do.” This “debt of love” isn’t like the $18 trillion in financial debt Americans carry, like mortgages, credit cards, or student loans. Unlike monetary debt, the debt of love is a lifelong obligation, as Paul writes in Romans 13:8, “Owe no one anything, except to love one another.” 

In Luke 7:36-50, we see this debt of love unfold in an account of grace and judgment, humility and pride. Jesus dines at the home of Simon, a Pharisee who prides himself on strict adherence to the law. In first-century Jewish culture, dining was an honor, yet Simon’s hospitality is cold. He offers Jesus no water for His feet, no kiss of greeting, no oil for His head. These were customary acts of respect (vv. 44-46). His indifference reveals a heart of pride.

Then enters an uninvited woman, a “sinner” (hamartōlos in Greek), likely notorious in her community, possibly a prostitute. Her presence in a Pharisee’s home is unheard of, yet she brings an alabaster jar of perfume, worth a year’s wages, and pours out her worship. Weeping loudly, she wets Jesus’ feet with her tears, wipes them with her hair, kisses them, and anoints them with perfume (v. 38). While Simon is judging silently the whole time! He questions Jesus’ discernment: “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him” (v. 39). Simon’s pride blinds him, while the woman’s humility drives her to worship.

Jesus responds with a parable: two debtors owe a moneylender, one 500 denarii (two years’ wages), the other 50 (two months’ income). Neither can pay, but both are forgiven. “Which will love him more?” Jesus asks (vv. 41-42). Simon answers, “The one who had the bigger debt forgiven” (v. 43). The woman, aware of her great debt, offers extravagant love; Simon, assuming his debt is small, offers none.

Jesus contrasts their actions: “You gave me no water… but she wet my feet with her tears… You gave me no kiss, but she has not stopped kissing my feet” (vv. 44-45). He says, “Her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown” (v. 47). Her love doesn’t earn forgiveness; it’s evidence of grace received through faith (v. 50). Simon, believing he needs little forgiveness, loves little.

So where do we stand? Like Simon, do we judge others while ignoring our own sin? Romans 3:23 reminds us, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Colossians 2:14 declares Jesus “canceled the record of debt… nailing it to the cross.” If our love for Him has grown cold, perhaps we’ve forgotten the weight of that debt.

Picture this woman, broken at Jesus’ feet, offering her tears and treasure. Now picture yourself. Are you offering pride or worship? Let’s remember the cross, where Jesus paid our unpayable debt. We would do well to pour out our lives like her perfume, through worship, obedience, and love for others.

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book 2, Ch. 2)

Gary Pollard

(Continuing modernizing translation of this work by one of the early church fathers)

On this subject, some people wonder if, just like the Father generates an uncreated Son and sends out a Holy Spirit—not like they once didn’t exist, but because the Father is their source with no “before” or “after” between them—maybe there’s a similar relationship between consciousness and matter.

To explore this more, the discussion usually begins by asking if these material bodies are just as eternal as consciousnesses, or whether the material bodies will one day be destroyed for good. To settle this more precisely, we must first determine if it’s possible for a conscious being to exist apart from the body that contains it—which seems to me very difficult, if not impossible—or if consciousness must always be united to some kind of body.

If anyone could prove that it’s possible for a mind to exist without a body, then it would follow that bodily nature, which was created out of nothing and generated after intervals of time, could also cease to exist once it served its purpose. A completely incorporeal life should be understood as being God’s privilege alone.

So, as we said before, the matter of this world — which allows for every kind of transformation — is denser in low-order beings. This density produces the visible, changing forms of this world. But matter’s interaction with celestial bodies, angels, or the spiritual bodies of the resurrected is different. For those higher order beings, it has the brightness of celestial bodies and is less dense.

From all these together the varied and diverse condition of the one world is completed. If anyone wishes to explore these things more deeply, it must be done with reverence and the fear of God, by examining the sacred scriptures extremely carefully. Perhaps their hidden meaning, revealed by the Spirit to those who are worthy, will uncover something more about these mysteries after gathering many attestations on the subject.