Pontius Pilate on the Couch, Part 2: Fear, Authority, and Moral Conflict in John 19

Brent Pollard

Returning to Pilate’s Psychological Profile

As we return to our psychoanalysis of Pilate, our patient has already given us quite a bit to work with. In the previous article, we saw that Pilate was skeptical about truth, politically pragmatic, and capable of resisting pressure—but only for so long. He could recognize what was right and even defend it temporarily, yet he lacked the fortitude to hold his position once the consequences became personal.

The examination now becomes more revealing. As Pilate’s interaction with Jesus progresses, the cracks in his composure become more evident. His fear grows, and he appears uncomfortable when his authority is challenged. He also faces a moral dilemma, knowing Jesus is innocent but still pondering how to satisfy His accusers. Interestingly, Pilate seems somewhat drawn to Jesus, repeatedly returning to Him, questioning Him, and seeking a way out. However, the curiosity, respect, or unease that Jesus evokes in Pilate never develops into true courage.

Four New Observations About Pilate

With Pilate back on the couch, we will add four more observations to his psychological profile: his growing fear, his sensitivity to authority, his moral conflict, and his fascination with Jesus that stops just short of conviction.

4. Pilate’s Growing Fear (John 19.7–8)

Fourth in our series, we note that Pilate is increasingly fearful as his encounter with Jesus develops. If there is one thing to be said about the advantage of fear, it is that it heightens one’s desire for self-preservation. I didn’t say it was a positive thing, but a natural outcome. When a person is filled with fear, things like moral convictions and resoluteness tend to melt away if it means saving one’s own neck. Is there any surprise that the antidote to fear is love, which casts fear away (1 John 4.18)?

Why Love Casts Out Fear (1 John 4.18)

When we talk about love, it is not man’s imperfect love, which the Greeks observed existed in many forms beyond what God shows. When we say that love casts out fear, we refer to God’s agape love for mankind. God’s love removes our fear of punishment, or we might say, the consequences. Naturally, this can only result through one’s obedience to God and subsequent relationship with Him. Pilate lacks this. Therefore, he fears what will happen if this situation continues spiraling out of control.

What Triggered Pilate’s Fear? The Son of God and a Wife’s Dream

What precipitated Pilate’s fear? He heard the Jews say that Jesus made Himself out to be the Son of God (John 19.7-8). To Pilate, it was not unheard of for a deity to cavort with human women and produce offspring. Jupiter had famous demigod sons like Hercules, Bacchus, and Perseus. Matthew heightens our understanding of Pilate’s superstition by introducing us to his wife, whose dreams about Jesus have troubled her and have caused her to counsel her husband to have nothing to do with Him (Matthew 27.19).

“Where Are You From?” Pilate Loses His Sense of Control (John 19.9)

What if the father of Jesus, a god, were to take vengeance for his son? This was no small matter for Pilate. The situation becomes reversed. The confident Pilate, who felt he held all the power, begins to feel more like he’s powerless. Pilate’s question, “Where are You from?” (19.9), suggests that Jesus is no longer merely another troublesome Jewish defendant.

Jesus Answers Pilate’s Fear (John 19.11)

Jesus’ reply to this fear is worth noting as well. Pilate urges Jesus to be less passive in the process, to speak up and advocate for Himself more. Pilate tells Jesus that he has power over Him in this situation. Jesus replies that Pilate would not have that power unless it had been granted to him from above (John 19.11). Furthermore, Jesus assures Pilate that the one who delivered Him to the Roman authorities had committed the greater sin. Jesus’ words may have given Pilate enough leeway to carry out the consequences of his own moral cowardice. Nevertheless, we see that Pilate redoubles his efforts to release Jesus out of fear of Jesus’ potential provenance (John 19.12).

5. Pilate Is Uncomfortable When His Authority Is Challenged (John 19.10)

Fifth, Pilate is uncomfortable when his authority is challenged. We have already observed that Pilate reminds Jesus that he has power over Him (John 19.10). In light of his fear, Pilate may have needed to state this to remind himself who is supposed to be in control of the situation. Since Jesus reminds Pilate that his culpability is less than that of those who deliver Him to the Romans, the prefect does not become angry but rather uncomfortable. Pilate therefore seems to possess an externally powerful yet internally insecure sense of authority.

The Insecure Authority of a Roman Provincial Governor

This insecurity aligns with the socio-political realities of a middle-tier Equestrian magistrate governing an unstable province. Lacking senatorial status, a minor provincial governor like Pontius Pilate relied entirely on imperial favor to survive. When the crowd invokes his loyalty to Caesar (John 19.12), they weaponize his political vulnerability. Furthermore, while Pilate likely shared the typical Roman disdain for local “barbarian” customs, he was routinely outmaneuvered by provincial leaders who exploited the limits of his administrative authority. His outward displays of force masked the fragile reality of a bureaucrat trapped between imperial paranoia and local resistance.

6. Pilate Is Morally Conflicted: Justice vs. Self-Preservation

Sixth, Pilate is morally conflicted. Perhaps the strongest feature of Pilate’s psychology is cognitive and moral dissonance. Pilate knows that Jesus is innocent. Yet, ultimately, he orders the crucifixion of this innocent Man. Pilate spends much of our pericope trying to reconcile two incompatible goals: doing what is just and protecting his fragile political position. His various maneuvers—the prisoner’s release, trying to push Jesus off onto Herod (see Luke’s Gospel), the scourging, presenting Jesus to the crowd, repeatedly declaring Him innocent—can be read as attempts to avoid choosing between the two. But eventually Pilate chooses security over justice.

Pilate’s Failure and the Divine Mandate of Civil Authority (Romans 13.1–5)

This moral failure is heightened when viewed in light of the divine mandate for civil authority. As Paul later notes, government is ordained by God to bear the sword against evil and to execute justice (Romans 13.1–5). Pilate held genuine, God-delegated authority (John 19.11), so his responsibility was real and his choices were unforced. God did not micromanage Pilate’s mind or override his free will; rather, in His foreknowledge, God willed to accomplish redemption through Pilate’s freely chosen compromise. Pilate’s tragedy is that, despite the divine mandate to execute justice, he instead weaponized his office to protect himself.

7. Pilate Is Drawn to Jesus but Stops Short of Conviction

Seventh, Pilate is drawn to Jesus but not enough to act courageously. Pilate repeatedly returns to the Praetorium to speak with Jesus. The dialogue grows increasingly personal. He asks Jesus about kingship, truth, His origin, and authority. Pilate does not treat Jesus as a common criminal but seems genuinely fascinated—and at times deeply unsettled—by Him. This fascination peaks when Pilate hears that Jesus claims a divine origin, evoking awe and pagan apprehension in the prefect (John 19.7–8).

“What Is Truth?” The Limits of Pilate’s Curiosity (John 18.38)

Yet Pilate’s famous dismissive query, “What is truth?” (John 18.38), reveals the limits of his curiosity. He embodies the pragmatic cynicism of the Roman ruling class, in which truth is treated as an abstract luxury subordinate to political order. Intellectual interest, emotional disturbance, and superstitious dread never mature into moral commitment. Pilate comes unusually close to the Truth—standing inches from It—without ever submitting to It, demonstrating that fascination with Christ without conviction yields the same outcome as outright opposition.

Pilate’s Diagnosis So Far—and What the Final Installment Holds

At this point, our patient has spent quite a while on the couch, and the diagnosis—if we may use that word loosely—is becoming clearer. Pilate is not a man who cannot see the truth; he is a man who repeatedly sees it and then seeks to avoid what it demands of him. Fear weakens him, challenges to his authority unsettle him, moral conflict paralyzes him, and even his fascination with Jesus cannot produce the courage needed to do what he knows is right. Yet John still has more to reveal. In the final installment, we will complete Pilate’s psychological profile with the remaining observations and consider what his behavior teaches us about the dangers of holding authority, recognizing truth, and even standing face-to-face with Christ while still allowing self-preservation to have the final word.

Written A While Back, But Still Relevant…

Putting Pilate on the Couch: A Psychological Profile from John 18-19 (Part One)

Brent Pollard

I would be remiss not to acknowledge that this article is published on the 25th anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy. Without further commentary, I will briefly note that I am amazed by the changes I’ve seen over the past 25 years since this brazen attack. Sadly, little of it has been for the better. Our thoughts go out to the families still grieving their lost loved ones, and our prayers are for the peace that comes when we finally learn to treat others as we would have them treat us (Matthew 7.12).

Putting Pontius Pilate on the Couch

Over the next few weeks, we will put Pontius Pilate on the couch as we “psychoanalyze” him based on John 18.28-19.16. John gives us the most complete picture of Pilate among the Gospels. It helps that Jesus’ trial before Pilate reads less like a formal court proceeding and more like a discussion between two parties. Pilate speaks his mind, revealing his heart.

What does this discussion reveal about Pilate? It shows he is intellectually skeptical, politically strategic, emotionally restless, and principally driven by self-preservation. Although we can’t provide a clinical diagnosis without direct communication with him, the discussion offers sufficient behavioral evidence to create a detailed nine-point character profile. Additionally, we’ll include a tenth bonus point at the end, outside our main excerpt, to further complete Pilate’s profile.

1. Pilate the Skeptic: “What is Truth?” (John 18.38)

Initially, Pilate shows skepticism and cynicism toward the concept of absolute truth (John 18.38). When asked whether He is a king, Jesus responds that He is the King of those who listen to the truth. Pilate then asks the classic question: “What is truth?” Does Pilate’s question suggest a philosophical pondering? More likely, it indicates that Pilate views truth as a practical matter. As a politician, he is familiar with competing claims, propaganda, and self-interest. In his perspective, truth is largely subjective.

Pilate, Postmodernism, and the Shift to Metamodernism

Pilate foreshadowed postmodernism long before the movement became academically recognized. He believed that truth was often difficult to pin down, subjective, or irrelevant to everyday life. Rejecting the idea of a single, absolute Truth guiding human action, he understood that those in power tend to shape what people accept as true to control others. His quick departure after posing the question indicates he viewed it as an abstract game of language. His skepticism, formed by living in a diverse empire, reflects exposure to various disparate viewpoints. This attitude is consistent with postmodernism, which also argues that no single group holds the complete truth, given the cultural and ideological diversity involved.

Yes, Pilate would feel comfortable in early 21st-century America, even if his mindset was in decline. Rest assured, we are no longer living in a postmodern world. We have transitioned to metamodernism, which holds that absolute truth exists, but none of us can truly know it. Though this is still an unfortunate conclusion, it is an advancement from rejecting absolute truth. As Christians, isn’t it reassuring to read passages like John 17.17? Isn’t it heartening to know that we can know the truth, and it will set us free (John 8.32; 1 John 5.13)?

The Irony: Seeing the Truth but Refusing to Act

But there is an irony. Despite his skepticism about truth, Pilate can reach factual conclusions, and he does so about Jesus: He is not guilty, especially of anything worthy of death (John 18.38; 19.4,6). Pilate’s problem is similar to that of many people today. Although he sees the truth, he is unwilling to act on it.

2. Pilate the Political Pragmatist (John 18.33)

Secondly, Pilate is pragmatic and politically minded, immediately politicizing the situation by asking, “Are You the King of the Jews?” (John 18.33). He is unconcerned with Jewish theological disputes, instead viewing Jesus as a possible political threat to Roman rule. This mindset mirrors 21st-century America, where politics regularly overshadows issues. For instance, social media users frequently politicize posts—an innocuous meme may prompt comments about Presidents Trump or Biden that are unrelated to the original post.

NIH research shows online political arguments are often made by people who are naturally hostile and enjoy toxicity. Pilate stands out: he doesn’t enjoy political toxicity, but politics matter to his career. Like keyboard warriors, he’s quick to judge your political stance before anything else—his first question: ally or enemy? It’s the 1st-century Roman version of “are you a red or blue stater?”

Pilate’s pragmatism is evident in his attempt to resolve the “Jesus problem” by invoking the custom of the Passover prisoner (John 18.39). Instead of dismissing charges against an innocent man, he seeks a political way to release Jesus without confronting the accusers, revealing his political-mindedness and preference for maneuvering in place of confrontation.

3. Pilate Resists Pressure—Until It Turns Personal (John 19.12)

Third, Pilate can resist initial pressure but not sustained pressure. John records three times that he publicly declares he finds no fault in Jesus. He presents Jesus after scourging, hoping punishment short of execution will satisfy them (19.4–5). When told that Jesus might be the son of a god, John says Pilate repeatedly tried to release Jesus (19.12). So, Pilate isn’t immediately submissive. He resists crowd pressure and shows some concern for justice—up to a point.

But that resistance had limits. Once the crowd found the right lever—Caesar (19.12)—Pilate crumpled. The threat was no longer only disorder in Jerusalem; now Pilate’s position was at risk. This was a turning point, not unprecedented. Previously, Pilate hung shields bearing Tiberius’ image from Herod’s castle, which the Jews saw as idolatry. The Jews complained directly to Tiberius, who ordered Pilate to remove the shields and take them to Caesarea Maritima. Assuming Jesus’ crucifixion was in 33 AD, the “shields incident” occurred in 31 or 32 AD, so Pilate was vulnerable and cautious about further repercussions.

Pilate and Samson: When Persistence Wears a Man Down

Again, Pilate could find himself at home in the 21st century. Yet, this time Pilate reminds us of Judge Samson. After Samson took up with Delilah, her intentions became obvious. Every time she nagged him about his strength, he’d awaken to find she had done the very thing he falsely confided would rob him of his strength. Even so, Samson stayed with her. But her nagging wore him down, and he revealed the truth (Judges 16.15ff). We know the rest of that story from Sunday School. In Samson’s case, it led to humiliation. However, Jesus showed how to use “nagging” constructively to have prayers answered (Luke 18.1-8).

Three Kinds of Nagging: Delilah, the Widow, and the Chief Priests

This is an aside from Pilate’s psychological profile, but it is beneficial nonetheless. What is the difference in the types of nagging we have seen between the Jews, Delilah, and the widow in Luke 18? Examining the original language reveals that Delilah’s nagging was alats (Judges 16.16), meaning relentless psychological pressure, like an anaconda slowly constricting around its prey, suffocating Samson.

The persistent widow’s nagging was hypōpiazō(Luke 18.5). This is a Greek boxing term meaning “to strike under the eye” or to wear down an opponent. It is relentless, targeted advocacy. It is positive because she was seeking justice, one of the things God requires of us (Micah 6.8).

Lastly, the chief priests’ nagging persistence is the Greek epikeimai (Luke 23.23), meaning they exerted great pressure. Thayer says it can figuratively describe the pressure of a violent tempest, similar to the millibars or hectopascals used for hurricanes, denoting a storm’s destructive potential. Luke also states they were prevailing (kataschyo) against Pilate, meaning to overpower. Pilate’s words were drowned out as they shouted over him until he capitulated.

Thus, Pilate did stand, but he could not withstand. The sustained campaign by the chief priests and the multitude, whipped into a frenzy, wore down Pilate’s resistance.

Pilate’s Profile Thus Far—And What Comes Next

Our patient on the couch has proved quite complicated. Pilate is skeptical, practical, political, stubborn—resisting pressure until it becomes personal. He can stand temporarily but cannot sustain it long-term. This might be the point where the analyst says, “Interesting.” But John keeps providing material for Pilate’s file. As the trial goes on, Pilate’s inner turmoil—fear, frustration, wounded pride, and distress—emerges more clearly. In the next article, we will revisit Pilate on the couch to explore what happens when a man knows what’s right but lacks the courage to act.

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Words Of Life

Feeling “God-Like” In Your Gut

Neal Pollard

There is a noun in the New Testament that means to show kindness, mercy, or concern for someone in serious need. It is typically translated “compassion” (cf. Matthew 9:13; Titus 3:5; Hebrews 4:16). But, there is a verb translated “to feel compassion for, have pity on, and have one’s heart go out to someone” (Swanson, np). John Frederick adds, “This verb is similar to what is expressed in modern language as a feeling in one’s ‘gut’ or ‘heart’ of deep empathy for another person” (Lexham Theological Wordbook, np). The difference seems to be in intensity and depth of feeling. With but one exception, the word is reserved for God toward humanity and is only found in the gospels. Notice:

  • Jesus felt compassion for the distressed and dispirited (Matthew 9:36).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the sick and their loved ones (Matthew 14:14).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the hungry (Matthew 15:32; Mark 8:2).
  • God is illustrated by the master of a slave who felt compassion for a deeply indebted man (Matthew 18:27).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the blind (Matthew 20:34).
  • Jesus felt compassion for those in need of leading and guiding (Mark 6:34).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the distraught (Mark 9:22).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the grieving (Luke 7:13).
  • God is illustrated by the prodigal’s father who felt compassion for the penitent (Luke 15:20).

Here’s a remarkable truth. Every one of us knows people in those circumstances–discouraged, suffering with illness or medical conditions, in material need, not sure what to do, in emotional pain, grieving, or struggling with sin. Who does God expect to feel for these people? How does He want us to show it?

Consider the lone exception mentioned earlier, the passage not referring to God but to man. It’s very familiar to us, found in one of Jesus’ parables. He says, “But a Samaritan, who was on a journey, came upon him; and when he saw him, he felt compassion…” (Luke 10:33). Keep reading and you will see that his deep, intense feelings led him to address the needs of the man (34-37).

Think about all the people you know right now who are in need of a Good Samaritan. Who needs a meal, a visit, some help, your time, your comforting, or just your listening ear? Both those in and out of a right relationship with Christ are longing for someone to feel deeply for them and be moved to help them. Yes, it will be inconvenient and even costly, but in doing what needs done you will be imitating God as closely as anything you’ll ever do.

The Rebuke Michael Would Not Speak

Brent Pollard

God buried Moses Himself. No procession wound down from Nebo, no mason cut a name into stone, no pilgrim has ever knelt at that grave: “And He buried him in the valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth-peor; but no man knows his burial place to this day” (Deuteronomy 34.6). Into that silence, Jude opens a keyhole. A dispute erupted over that body. Michael the archangel stood on one side; the devil stood on the other. Heaven’s warrior faced hell’s accuser across the corpse of Israel’s greatest prophet. Yet the arresting detail is not the power Michael commanded. It is the sentence he declined to pronounce.

Rejecting Authority and Reviling Angelic Majesties

Jude wrote to congregations already compromised. Certain persons had “crept in unnoticed” (Jude 4), men who turned the grace of our God into licentiousness and denied our only Master and Lord. Their doctrine bred a temperament, and the temperament exposed the doctrine. “Yet in the same way these men, also by dreaming, defile the flesh, and reject authority, and revile angelic majesties” (Jude 8).

Three symptoms, one disease. A man who indulges his body soon resents anyone who restrains it, and a man who resents restraint eventually insults the throne that imposed it. Korah walked that road (Numbers 16.3; Jude 11). He dressed ambition in the language of equality and told Moses he had gone far enough. The ground answered him. Jude’s opponents claimed dreams as their credential and slander as their sport, reviling “the things which they do not understand” (Jude 10). Ignorance seldom humbles the arrogant. It emboldens them.

Michael the Archangel and the Limits of Delegated Authority

In Jude 8, Jude warns that false teachers fail to respect divinely appointed authority. In the next verse, he uses Michael the archangel as an example of showing respect, acknowledging that he did not speak presumptuously about the devil in his argument with him over Moses’ body, but rather left judgment to God. We should not infer that the devil held a higher rank than Michael. Instead, Michael understood the limitations of his own authority and left the ultimate condemnation to the Lord.

Scripture never paints Michael as timid. Daniel calls him “one of the chief princes” (Daniel 10.13) and “the great prince who stands guard over the sons of your people” (Daniel 12.1). John watched him wage war against the dragon (Revelation 12.7). Here stands a creature who can fight Satan and win, and he still refuses to sentence him. Peter observed the same restraint: angels “who are greater in might and power do not bring a reviling judgment against them before the Lord” (2 Peter 2.11).

The mightiest servant in the created order holds a commission, not a crown. He works within borders, and those borders do not insult him; they secure him. The angels of Jude 6 who abandoned their proper abode now wear eternal chains.

“The Lord Rebuke You”: Judgment Belongs to the Throne

Michael’s answer came out of a courtroom. Zechariah watched Joshua the high priest stand before the angel of the LORD, filthy garments and all, Satan at his right hand to accuse him. The verdict descended from above the bench: “The LORD rebuke you, Satan! Indeed, the LORD who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you! Is this not a brand plucked from the fire?” (Zechariah 3.2). Michael quoted that sentence rather than composing one. He argued; he did not revile. He contended; he did not curse.

Our Lord walked the same road in the flesh. “While being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously” (1 Peter 2.23). Entrusting. The word pictures a deposit handed across a counter. Christ did not swallow the injustice. He transferred it. Paul draws the same line: “Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God” (Romans 12.19). James presses harder still: “There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the One who is able to save and to destroy; but who are you who judge your neighbor?” (James 4.12).

A joy hides here that the resentful never taste. If judgment belongs to God, then I am relieved of a burden I was never engineered to carry. The verdict will be rendered, flawlessly, by One who misses nothing and exaggerates nothing. My restraint costs me the pleasure of the last word. It purchases the peace of a settled universe. That trade favors me enormously.

Grace That Governs the Tongue in an Age of Railing

The men Jude condemned twisted grace into permission. Genuine grace does the reverse: it appears, and then instructs “us to deny ungodliness and worldly desires and to live sensibly, righteously and godly in the present age” (Titus 2.11-12). Grace teaches. Grace disciplines. Grace reaches the mouth.

Test yourself where testing hurts. When elders decide against your preference, do you appeal, or do you campaign? Hebrews 13.17 commands us to obey our leaders and submit to them, “for they keep watch over your souls as those who will give an account.” When a magistrate rules foolishly, can you tell the truth about the policy without shredding the man? Paul, struck illegally at his own hearing, withdrew his sharp reply the instant he learned Ananias’ office: “YOU SHALL NOT SPEAK EVIL OF A RULER OF YOUR PEOPLE” (Acts 23.5). David, hunted like an animal, held Saul at the edge of his blade at En-gedi and cut nothing but a robe’s corner. Even that troubled his conscience: “Far be it from me because of the LORD that I should do this thing to my lord, the LORD’s anointed” (1 Samuel 24.6).

Now carry that to a keyboard. Every believer owns a printing press, and most of us publish before we pray. Screens flatten people into targets, and contempt tastes sweet at two in the morning. The command has not moved: “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear” (Ephesians 4.29). Malign no one. Be peaceable, gentle, showing every consideration for all men (Titus 3.2). Naming error plainly is not railing; the apostles named names. Railing begins the moment we seize a gavel God reserved for Himself.

Take Your Place Beneath the Throne

Michael won his dispute by refusing to escalate it. He named the Judge and stepped back. Every believer meets that fork, usually in small rooms and short conversations. A coworker slanders you. A ruler abuses his office. In that moment, you may snatch the gavel, or you may say what Michael said.

Say what Michael said. Guard your mouth as jealously as your doctrine; the two rise and fall together. Honor the authorities God has installed, including the flawed ones, and hand Him everything beyond your jurisdiction. Give thanks tonight that the Judge of all the earth will do right, and that the sentence you deserved fell upon His Son instead of upon you. Then live as a servant who knows his commission, loves his limits, and trusts his King.

Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations are taken from the New American Standard Bible (1995).

All Nations!

Gary Pollard

Malachi 1.1ff — 

This is the message that the Lord gave to Israel through the prophet Malachi: “I have always loved you,” says the Lord. But you retort, “Really? How have you loved us?” And the Lord replies, “This is how I showed my love for you: I loved your ancestor Jacob, but I rejected his brother, Esau, and devastated his hill country. I turned Esau’s inheritance into a desert for jackals.” Esau’s descendants in Edom may say, “We have been shattered, but we will rebuild the ruins.” But the Lord of Heaven’s Armies replies, “They may try to rebuild, but I will demolish them again. Their country will be known as ‘The Land of Wickedness,’ and their people will be called ‘The People with Whom the Lord Is Forever Angry.’ When you see the destruction for yourselves, you will say, ‘Truly, the Lord’s greatness reaches far beyond Israel’s borders!’ ”

The Lord of Heaven’s Armies says to the priests: “A son honors his father, and a servant respects his master. If I am your father and master, where are the honor and respect I deserve? You have shown contempt for my name. But you ask, ‘How have we ever shown contempt for your name?’ You have shown contempt by offering defiled sacrifices on my altar. Then you ask, ‘How have we defiled the sacrifices?’ You defile them by saying the altar of the Lord deserves no respect. When you give blind animals as sacrifices, isn’t that wrong? And isn’t it wrong to offer animals that are crippled and diseased? Try giving gifts like that to your governor, and see how pleased he is!” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies.

“Go ahead, beg God to be merciful to you! But when you bring that kind of offering, why should he show you any favor at all?” asks the Lord of Heaven’s Armies. “How I wish one of you would shut the Temple doors so that these worthless sacrifices could not be offered! I am not pleased with you,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies, “and I will not accept your offerings. But my name is honored by people of other nations from morning till night. All around the world they offer sweet incense and pure offerings in honor of my name. For my name is great among the nations,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies.

“But you dishonor my name with your actions. By bringing contemptible food, you are saying it’s all right to defile the Lord’s table. You say, ‘It’s too hard to serve the Lord,’ and you turn up your noses at my commands,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies. “Think of it! Animals that are stolen and crippled and sick are being presented as offerings! Should I accept from you such offerings as these?” asks the Lord. “Cursed is the cheat who promises to give a fine ram from his flock but then sacrifices a defective one to the Lord. For I am a great king,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies, “and my name is feared among the nations!

Mind Lock: Setting Your Mind on Things Above

Brent Pollard

George Lucas opened his career with a story about attention. In THX 1138, an underground society sedates its citizens into compliance and assigns each one a station. The protagonist works a line handling volatile material, where a single lapse in concentration ignites a chain reaction no operator can reverse. Then he stops swallowing the prescribed drugs, his affections wake up, and his focus splinters. The monitoring voice logs the failure with one clinical phrase: mind lock. The plant slides toward meltdown. No saboteur cut a wire. A man simply thought about one thing while his hands worked on another.

That fiction diagnoses what the Holy Spirit addressed nineteen centuries earlier. “Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth” (Colossians 3.2). Paul offers no gentle recommendation for the contemplative temperament. He issues an order binding every Christian who draws breath. And beneath that order lies a warning our own biographies keep confirming: the meltdown never arrives first. It arrives last.

What Colossians 3.2 Actually Commands

Verse two rests on verse one. “Therefore if you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God” (Colossians 3.1). The imperative presupposes an accomplished fact. God buried us with His Son and raised us up in baptism through faith in His working (Colossians 2.12). We contributed nothing to that empty tomb. Grace did the raising. Yet the man God raises must now direct his thoughts, because resurrection life does not steer itself.

The verb Paul selects reaches well past the intellect. It governs disposition, taste, allegiance — what a man relishes when nobody supervises him. A mind “set” leans. It prefers. Knowing where the North Star hangs differs entirely from steering by it, and Colossians 3.2 demands the steering. Verse three closes the argument: “For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” Corpses do not negotiate with old appetites.

How Spiritual Meltdowns Actually Happen

Scripture records no righteous man who collapsed without warning. David’s adultery began on a rooftop with idle eyes and an empty afternoon while other kings marched to war (2 Samuel 11.1-2). Demas never argued theology with Paul; he “loved this present world” and slipped out quietly (2 Timothy 4.10). Lot pitched his tent toward Sodom because the plain looked well-watered (Genesis 13.10-11); the look preceded the ruin by years.

Paul locates the outcome in the aim. Those who live according to the flesh fix their minds on fleshly things, and those who live according to the Spirit fix theirs on the Spirit’s. “For the mind set on the flesh is death, but the mind set on the Spirit is life and peace” (Romans 8.5-6). Death and peace do not fall from the sky. They grow from where a man parks his daily attention.

Consider Martha. She served the Lord in her own house, yet Luke reports she “was distracted with all her preparations” (Luke 10.40) until devotion soured into complaint against her sister. Her hands worked holy labor. Her mind had wandered to the kitchen. James names the condition exactly: a double-minded man proves “unstable in all his ways” (James 1.8). Not some ways. All of them.

Why Earthly Things Cannot Bear the Weight We Give Them

Paul smuggles in no contempt for material creation. God pronounced His handiwork good (Genesis 1.31) and “richly supplies us with all things to enjoy” (1 Timothy 6.17). The problem lies in proportion, not in matter. A man can drown in a bathtub of perfectly clean water.

“We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen” — the seen expires, the unseen endures (2 Corinthians 4.18). The verb translated “look” means to aim at, to take as a target. Paul describes marksmanship, not daydreaming. Every mortgage statement, every diagnosis, every headline lobbies for front-page space in your mind and pays its rent in anxiety. They are real. They are also expiring. Jesus settled the matter: “for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6.21). He never commanded us to drag our affections uphill by willpower. He told us to move the treasure and let the heart follow it home.

The Joy That Makes a Heavenly Focus Possible

No one empties a mind. We only crowd it, which is why Paul supplies a list of occupants — whatever is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, of good repute — and commands us to “dwell on these things” (Philippians 4.8). Yet the man who obeys Colossians 3.2 finds better than a list: a Person seated at the right hand of God, worth more than everything the plain of Sodom ever advertised.

This is why the command carries no drudgery. “In Your presence is fullness of joy; In Your right hand there are pleasures forever” (Psalm 16.11). Asaph nearly slipped, envying prosperous scoffers, then recovered his footing in the sanctuary, where God’s supremacy reordered every value he held (Psalm 73.2, 17). He walked out saying, “Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth” (Psalm 73.25). Delight, not duty, dismantled his envy.

Underneath that delight runs the deepest astonishment available to us: the Christ we contemplate never waited for us to deserve Him. “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5.8). Grace of that magnitude licenses no drift; it instructs us “to deny ungodliness and worldly desires” and to live righteously in the present age (Titus 2.11-12). Gratitude burns as the cleanest fuel a disciple ever pours into obedience.

Practical Habits for Setting the Mind on Things Above

Begin the day upward. David directed his prayer to God in the morning and watched (Psalm 5.3); the feed and the forecast can wait an hour. Guard the intake: “I will set no worthless thing before my eyes” (Psalm 101.3) reads as a media policy long before it reads as poetry. Load the memory until the word of Christ dwells in you richly (Colossians 3.16), because a mind stocked at eight in the morning has ammunition at eight at night. Sanctify ordinary labor rather than resent it — “whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus” (Colossians 3.17) — since the command redirects the mind, never the hands. Gather with saints who stimulate you to love and good deeds (Hebrews 10.24-25). And when a thought arrives that has no business in a raised man’s head, take it captive at the doorway (2 Corinthians 10.5), while it remains a visitor and not yet a tenant.

The alarm always sounds before the meltdown. Christ has already raised you, hidden your life in God, and seated Himself where your attention belongs; the discipline that remains is refusing to look away. “When Christ, who is our life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory” (Colossians 3.4). Fix your eyes on Him (Hebrews 12.2). Keep them there through the diagnosis, the layoff, the funeral, and the tedious workday. A mind anchored above holds steady when everything below shakes — and one day the One you have contemplated will step into view, and you will discover you were rehearsing for that sight your whole life.

Celebrating Six Months!

Are you looking for an “old school” and fun way to connect? Kathy began “A Tiny Spark” snail mail club in March. This subscription mail club comes packed with a personal letter, an interview with a Christian woman, a recipe card, fun stickers, a personal art print painted by her, and a new “tiny surprise” all in a letter personally addressed! Ladies from 38 states and five foreign counties have enjoyed their “Tiny Spark” this year! If you’d like more information about subscriptions, follow the link below:

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Seneca’s Search

Gary Pollard

The following passage was written by Lucius Annaeus Seneca (c. 4 BC — AD 65) in Book I of Naturales quaestiones. There’s a decent chance that he was born the same year as Jesus of Nazareth. These seven books are certainly an interesting read, but I found his Preface to Book I especially fascinating. Reading this brings to mind, “God wanted people to look for him, and perhaps in searching all around for him, they would find him. But he is not far from any of us” (Acts 17.27). And, “There are things about God that people cannot see — his eternal power and all that makes him God. But since the beginning of the world, those things have been easy for people to understand. They are made clear in what God has made. So people have no excuse for the evil they do” (Rom 1.20). Seneca (and many of his predecessors, contemporaries, and spiritual descendants) looked for meaning and goodness in that aspect of reality that cannot be seen. Christ did come “at just the right time”! We’re reading an excerpt from a pagan historian and naturalist today because it gives valuable insight into aspects of the culture, worldviews, and concepts of the transcendent (as well as a refined understanding of words and concepts used in the first century) held by many when Christ and his followers operated on earth. 

Lucilius, my much esteemed friend — While a great gulf separates philosophy from the other learned arts, there is to my mind an equally wide gulf in philosophy itself between the portion which relates to human conduct and that which deals with the nature and the power of heaven. The latter is more exalted and more speculative, it allows itself wide liberty. It is not satisfied with mere observation, it surmises that there is a greater and fairer realm placed by nature beyond human sight. Between these two divisions of philosophy, in short, there is as wide a gulf as between their subjects, God and man. 

The one teaches us what should be done on earth; the other, what is done in heaven. The one dispels our errors and flashes a light by which to thread the mazes of life; the other far transcends this gloom in which we grope, rescues us from the darkness, and leads us to the very source of light itself. For myself, I am grateful to nature, not so much when I see her on the side that is open to the world, as when I am permitted to enter her shrine. Then one may seek to know of what stuff the universe is made, who is its Author or Guardian, what is the nature of God. Is He wholly absorbed in Himself, or does He sometimes regard us? does He do something daily, or has He done once for all? is He a portion of the world, or the whole world? may He issue new decrees even to-day and thus modify the laws of fate, or is it an infringement of His majesty and an acknowledgment of error to alter what has once been made? for surely the same must always please Him who can be pleased only with what is best. Nor yet withal is His freedom or power diminished, for He is a law unto Himself. 

Life would have been a useless gift, were I not admitted to the study of such themes. What cause for joy would it be to be set merely in the number of those who live? In order to digest food and drink? To repair a diseased, enfeebled body, that would perish unless it were continually refilled, and thus lead the life of a sick man’s attendant? To fear death, to which our very birth destines us? Away with the priceless boon! Life is not worth the heat and the sweat. How despicable a creature is man, unless he rise above the earth! What great thing can we do as long as we have to wrestle with our passions? Even if we prevail, we but conquer monsters. What cause have we to esteem ourselves because we are not quite so bad as the very worst? I can see no great reason for self-satisfaction because one’s strength is rather above the average of those in the same hospital. You are still very far from good health and vigour. Or, again, you have escaped vices of soul, the hypocrite’s brow, the flatterer’s speech fashioned to serve another’s will, the dissembler’s heart, the miser’s spirit, which robs all, but yet mortifies itself. You are a prey neither to luxury, which loses basely and repairs its losses still more basely; nor to ambition, which leads to place of worth only by unworthy means. But yet you have accomplished nothing. You have escaped many perils, but not yet that of self. 

The virtue we aim at raises to a splendid eminence; not so much because escape from vice is in itself a blessed thing, but rather because the soul is emancipated, prepared for the knowledge of heavenly things, and rendered worthy of entering into communion with God. 

Clarke, J. (1910). Physical science in the time of Nero, being a translation of the Quaestiones Naturales of Seneca. Macmillan & Co., London. pp 54-55

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God Shall Wipe Away All Tears

Carl Pollard

Tears are a very interesting and important part of the human anatomy. Tears are produced by the tear gland, which are small glands that are in our upper eyelid. Tears keep the surface of your eyeball clean, and help protect your eye from damage. But there’s another function of tears. They appear when we experience heartache and sadness. They form when we encounter joy, heartbreak, and sometimes for no reason with some people.

When we cry because of something emotionally painful, most of the time we wish that the problem never would’ve happened In the first place. Tears are a natural part of life. It’s going to happen, no matter how tough we claim to be. At some point we are going to break under the pressure of this world. That’s why I’d like to spend a few moments in one of the most encouraging passages of scripture in the Bible, Isaiah 25:8-9. In these two verses we will notice three painful types of tears that will be wiped away.

It reads, “He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken. It will be said on that day, “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.”

The first type of tears that will be wiped away are tears of death (v. 8). Every human on earth will experience death. Our lives will end in death, and scattered all throughout our days on earth we will lose those we love. Death is terrible. It tears us apart– we feel like we are drowning in heartbreak– that this pain will never end. We have to watch as mothers and fathers lose their children, children lose their parents, and spouses lose each other. Death is inevitable and something none of us ever want to go through. But there will come a day when we will never have to shed a tear over a loved one. We will never stand at a graveside again. God will make sure that his children never have to experience this heartache ever again. I long for heaven because the tears of death will be wiped away.

He will wipe away the tears of disgrace (8b). We can all agree that this world is full of evil. There is murder, rape, liars, gossip, and broken homes. This world is a place full of tears over the pain that comes from evil. Homes are torn apart and hearts are broken over the sin of others. A day will come when Christ will wipe away all tears (Rev. 21:4).  A day will come when Christ will mend the hearts of the broken. David spoke of his Joy in God. He says, “Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me! O Lord, be my helper!” You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness” (Psa. 30:10-11). As Christians we can turn to God with hope, knowing that He is our helper and strength. We don’t have to face the evil of this world on our own. God can turn our heartache into Joy. He can wipe away the tears that sin has placed in our eyes. A time will come when the tears of disgrace will be wiped away.

God will wipe away the tears of distance and discouragement (9). It is common after a tragedy has occurred to hear someone pray, “Jesus come quickly.” We say this because we know that Christ is our way of escape from this world. Christ is our hope. We want Him to come back, to help us escape the sin that is around us. Sometimes this distance from God can cause us to become discouraged and to think that He isn’t coming back to save us. God will wipe away the tears of discouragement.

And on that day we will say, “This is OUR God.” The God that we have placed all hope and faith in. “This is OUR God that we have waited on to save us.” “This is OUR God that has brought us salvation.” The day will come when God will wipe away the tears that have been formed by the distance and discouragement we encounter on earth.

The day will also come when we will be judged for how we lived on earth. Can we say that we have waited on God? Can we rejoice in His return? Can we truthfully say that we have placed our faith and hope in God? On that day our tears will either be wiped away, or they will continue on into eternity. The question we must ask ourselves is this:  “Will God wipe away my tears?”

Season 6 Finale

I wrote this seven years ago today

This Week’s LIGHT OF THE WORLD

Short Video From Kathy

“A Tiny Spark” (May 2026)

New “Light Of The World” Episode (Debuted May 9, 2026)