Tag: Bible

Walking Worthy

Carl Pollard

In Ephesians 4:2, the Apostle Paul urges Christians: “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” This verse comes as Paul transitions from the profound doctrines of God’s grace in chapters 1–3 to practical living. Having been called into one body through Christ’s redemptive work (Ephesians 4:1), we are to “walk worthy” of that calling. These four virtues, humility, gentleness, patience, and forbearance in love, form the foundation for preserving “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3).

Humility means having a low estimation of oneself, not out of self-loathing, but from recognizing our utter dependence on God’s grace. It is the opposite of pride, which destroys relationships. Jesus exemplified this perfectly, saying, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart” (Matt. 11:29). Philippians 2:5–8 calls us to have the same mindset as Christ, who emptied Himself and took the form of a servant. Without humility, we cannot serve one another or maintain unity.

Gentleness, often translated as meekness, is strength under control. Aristotle described it as the balance between excessive anger and passivity. It is not weakness but controlled power, as seen in Jesus driving out the money changers yet never sinning in anger. Galatians 5:23 lists gentleness as fruit of the Spirit. In a divided church, gentleness defuses conflict and reflects Christ’s character.

Patience. or longsuffering, means being “slow to anger.” It mirrors God’s character: “The Lord is… patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish” (2 Peter 3:9). Love “is patient” (1 Corinthians 13:4). In relationships, patience endures irritations without retaliation, remembering how much God has patiently borne with us.

Finally, we are to “bear with one another in love.” This means making allowances for others’ faults, forgiving as God forgave us (Colossians 3:13). Agape love motivates this forbearance, seeking others’ good even when it costs us.

These virtues are not optional suggestions but commands for every follower of Christ. In a world defined by division, pride, and impatience, the church must shine as a countercultural community. Imagine families, workplaces, and congregations transformed by this grace. But we cannot manufacture these traits in our strength; they flow from the Spirit as we abide in Christ (Galatians 5:22–23).

So, examine your heart: Where do pride or impatience hinder unity? Repent and yield to God. Walk in humility, gentleness, patience, and love, for in doing so, you glorify the One who first loved us and display the beauty of His calling to a watching world!

When God Says “Not Yet”: Peter’s Journey from Boldness to Readiness

Brent Pollard

Understanding Divine Timing in Your Spiritual Growth

When Jesus spoke of His approaching departure, Peter responded confidently: “Lord, why can I not follow You now? I will lay down my life for Your sake” (John 13.37). His words carried genuine sincerity. Peter meant every syllable.

Yet Jesus answered with a truth that would echo through Peter’s life and ours: “Where I go, you cannot follow Me now; but you shall follow Me afterward” (John 13.36, NKJV).

Two words changed everything: “Not now.” Peter did not lack courage—he had that. His devotion was not questionable—his heart burned with love for Christ. The issue was readiness, not willingness.

Why Spiritual Maturity Cannot Be Rushed

Peter’s bold words revealed an incomplete understanding of himself and the cross he claimed to embrace. We often think we are further along in grace than we are. Peter experienced this revelation in that moment.

He was willing to die, but he was not ready. The difference between these two states is the crucible of Christian formation.

Christ saw what Peter could not. The work in him, through him, and for him remained. Before Peter could follow Jesus into death, he needed lessons only time could teach and experiences only grace could redeem.

Growing in Knowledge: When Understanding Deepens Through Experience

Peter’s knowledge of Christ needed to grow beyond intellectual assent. It had to become a lived reality. He had already confessed, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”(Matthew 16.16)—words given him by divine revelation. Yet even this truth needed real experience to become a formed conviction.

Peter still did not grasp the necessity of Christ’s death (Mark 8.31-33), the power of His resurrection (Luke 24.11-12), the glory of His ascension (Acts 1.9-11), or the fire of Pentecost (Acts 2.1-4). These were not optional lessons. They were essential to apostolic preparation. The Spirit would lead him “into all truth” (John 16.13), but the journey could not be rushed.

We remain on earth because it is the only place with a curriculum of grace. While heaven offers eternal joys, earth allows us to trust God in darkness, choose obedience without sight, and love Christ though “having not seen Him” (1 Peter 1.8). These are the essential lessons of the school of faith that cannot be skipped: learning to trust, obey, and love Christ while on earth.

Character Formation: How God Refines Us Through Failure

Peter’s character needed refining in the furnace of weakness. He thought he was ready to die, but Jesus knew the denial to come: “Before the rooster crows, you will deny Me three times” (Matthew 26.34). That failure became the moment that changed Peter’s self-confidence into humble dependence.

The Lord can use our failures to cure us of self-sufficiency. Peter denied Christ three times and was restored three times (John 21.15-17). God was not just correcting Peter; He was rebuilding him. The man who claimed he was more loyal than all (Mark 14.29) wrote, “Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time” (1 Peter 5.6).

Actual readiness for service comes not from our strength but from knowing our weakness and discovering God’s sufficiency in it. Dependence on God, not self, forms the foundation of actual spiritual readiness.

God’s Preparation Has Purpose: Your Growth Blesses Others

God was still preparing Peter, and every lesson he learned later blessed the church. By the Holy Spirit, he wrote two epistles that strengthened millions. His sermon at Pentecost brought three thousand souls into the kingdom (Acts 2.41). His bold testimony before the Sanhedrin declared, “We ought to obey God rather than men” (Acts 5.29). Peter confessed the truth on which Christ would build His church (Matthew 16.16-18), but he needed time to mature.

What we learn while waiting becomes our wisdom for service. Each trial that teaches patience prepares us to help others in their own trials (2 Corinthians 1.3-4). Each refining fire that purifies us equips us to lead with integrity. Peter’s painful lessons benefited the church.

Our spiritual growth is never merely personal; it is preparation for service—both now and eternally. The character God forms in us determines the impact and reach of our service to others.

From Earth to Eternity: Faithfulness Now Prepares Us for Heaven

Heaven is not idleness but perfected service. Jesus said servants would be made “rulers over many things” (Matthew 25.21), suggesting that faithfulness now prepares us for future responsibilities. God seeks those through whom He can do the impossible, yet we are often distracted by tasks we feel compelled to complete ourselves. Earth is where we learn to partner with the impossible.

The parable of the talents (Matthew 25.14-30) teaches that being faithful in small tasks leads to larger responsibilities. Serving on earth is preparation for greater things ahead. What we develop here—trust in uncertainty, patience in waiting, and obedience in difficulty—equips us for our future roles. Our actions now are training for responsibilities we cannot yet see.

The Promise Fulfilled: Peter’s Courage Matured in God’s Time

After the resurrection, Jesus spoke to Peter with clear words: “When you were younger, you girded yourself and walked where you wished; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish” (John 21.18). Then Jesus gave the invitation: “Follow Me” (John 21.19).

The promise of John 13.36 was explained. Peter would follow Jesus into death. Church tradition says Peter, counting himself unworthy to die as his Lord, requested crucifixion upside down. The man who once denied Christ by a charcoal fire (John 18.18) was restored by a charcoal fire (John 21.9). He would glorify God by a martyr’s death (John 21.19).

Peter’s courage was once premature but matured in God’s time. The boldness always existed. What developed was the brokenness that made his courage usable. God does not waste our willingness—He seasons it until it becomes readiness.

Living in the “Not Yet”: What God’s Delay Teaches Us

God’s “not yet” is not a refusal. It is preparation. When He says “afterward,” He does not diminish our calling but deepens our capacity. There is work to be done—in us, through us, and for us. God may be doing thousands of things in your life, but you know only a few. Trust Him for what you do not see.

Peter’s story makes us face impatience with God’s wisdom. We want instant readiness, but God requires patient formation. We see our willingness. God sees what still needs to be developed. We measure courage by intentions. God measures it by how we endure when tested by fire.

Scripture affirms this pattern of preparation many times. Joseph spent years in slavery and prison before saving nations (Genesis 50.20). Moses spent forty years in the wilderness before leading the Exodus (Acts 7.30). Paul withdrew to Arabia after conversion before his ministry (Galatians 1.17). Even Jesus waited thirty years before public ministry (Luke 3.23).

Waiting is not wasted. Every delay serves a divine purpose. Each period of preparation is designed to teach specific lessons that equip us. Through these lessons, we are shaped into vessels capable of holding and sharing the glory God will reveal through us. Our waiting is purposeful, our learning is tailored, and both are essential for fulfilling what God intends to do through us.

Your “afterward” is coming. In God’s time, when your knowledge deepens, your character is refined, and your readiness matches your willingness, you will follow Him into your purpose. Until then, learn what this moment can teach you. Trust what these trials can develop. Receive what this season alone can give.

The same Jesus who said “not now” to Peter also said “but afterward.” Both words came from the same love, served the same purpose, and led to the same destination: a God-glorifying life and a faithful servant’s death.

When God says “not yet,” He is not closing a door. He is preparing you to walk through it with wisdom, strength, and readiness that He alone can give. The afterward is about more than dying well. It is about living fully in the power of a completed preparation and achieved readiness. When your afterward comes, you will know—as Peter knew—that every moment was worth it for the glory it brought.

Trust His timing. Embrace His preparation. Your afterward is coming, and it will be glorious. Persevere in trust and preparation—God’s timing always leads to fulfillment.

Desiring God

Carl Pollard

“Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” 

  • Psalm 37:4

One of the most loved and frequently quoted verses in Scripture is Psalm 37:4. At first glance it can sound like a blank check: “Love God and you’ll get whatever you want.” But a closer look reveals something far deeper and more beautiful. The verse is not primarily about getting what we want; it is about God changing what we want until He Himself becomes the great desire of our hearts.

Psalm 37 is an acrostic wisdom psalm written by David in his old age (v. 25). Its main concern is the age-old question, “Why do the wicked prosper while the righteous suffer?” David’s answer is trust and delight in the Lord rather than envy or anger toward evildoers (vv. 1–8). In this setting, verse 4 is not a prosperity promise detached from reality; it is godly counsel for people who feel overlooked while others seem to “have it all.”

The Hebrew verb translated “delight,” is intensive and rare. It means to be delicate or pampered, to take exquisite pleasure in something. It is the same root used in Isaiah 66:11 for a nursing baby delighting in its mother’s milk, total satisfaction, soft enjoyment, unhurried pleasure.

So David is not commanding gritted-teeth duty (“Try really hard to like God”). He is inviting us into a relationship where God Himself becomes our highest pleasure, our richest feast, our greatest reward.

The Promise: “He Will Give You the Desires of Your Heart.” Grammatically, the second half of the verse can be read two ways, both of which are true and complementary:

1. Causative reading (most translations): When you delight in the Lord, He grants the desires that are now in your heart—desires that have been transformed by your delight in Him. The more we enjoy God, the more our desires align with what He loves to give.

2. Identical reading (favored by many Hebrew scholars): “He will give you the desires of your heart” means He will place new desires in your heart. In other words, the reward of delighting in God is that God Himself becomes the desire of our heart.

John Piper once summarized this second reading: “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.” Psalm 37:4 is therefore the biblical basis for what has come to be called Christian Hedonism, the conviction that God is not honored by reluctant obedience but by hearts that have found their deepest joy in Him.

To “delight yourself in the Lord” isn’t a feeling we try to manufacture; it is a discipline we pursue by faith:

  • Meditate on who God is (His beauty, holiness, love, grace).
  • Remember what God has done, especially in the cross and resurrection.
  • Pray the prayers of Scripture that ask God to change our tastes (Ps 90:14; Ps 27:4; Ps 73:25–26). Tastebuds change, I used to hate onions…now I love them! Same thing happens in Christ. The longer you seek Him, the more you desire Him. The world loses its sway. 
  • Fight the fight of faith to see and savor Jesus above all competing pleasures.

When we do, something happens: the things we once thought we couldn’t live without begin to lose their grip, and we discover that the Giver is infinitely more satisfying than any of His gifts.

Psalm 37:4 is not a promise that God will fund every whim of a heart still curved in on itself. It is a promise that if we will seek our pleasure in God, He will make sure we are never disappointed. He will either satisfy our (new, God-shaped) desires, or, better yet, He will satisfy us with Himself.

“Whom have I in heaven but you? 

And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. 

My flesh and my heart may fail, 

but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” 

  • Psalm 73:25–26

Whiter Than Snow

Dale Pollard

The most snow ever to accumulate from a single storm happened from February 13-19th in 1959. The storm hit Mount Shasta Ski Bowl in California with a total of 15.75 feet of snow (Guinness Book of World Records). 

Snow appears only a handful of times in the Bible, but when it does, it gives the reader some powerful illustrations. In a Middle Eastern climate where snowfall was pretty rare and memorable, snow became an image to describe God’s purity, or forgiveness, and even His ultimate authority over nature.

One of the most famous references is found in Isaiah 1:18, where God declares, “Though your sins be as scarlet, they will be as white as snow.” Here, snow represents a total cleansing — a visual for guilt being completely erased. The contrast between blood-red sin and snow-white purity made the promise pop to ancient readers— and not lost on the modern reader. 

Snow is also used to describe God’s control over the natural world. Job 37:6 says, “For to the snow he says, be on the earth.” Unlike modern scientific explanations, the Bible portrays snow as something that responds directly to God’s command. God established natural law and order so either way, even the most powerful weather phenomena are under divine authority.

In Psalm 147:16, snow becomes a symbol of provision, with a little mystery: “He gives snow like wool.” The comparison to wool is referring to the softness and abundance. The point? That which seems harsh and cold is still part of God’s sustaining design.

Even the terrifying becomes symbolic. When Moses’ hand turns leprous in Exodus 4:6, it is described as “white as snow,” and this really makes that cleansing of sin stand out more. Instead of being left with a disease as white as snow, we’re sanctified and made clean, like snow. 

Throughout Scripture, snow is used as a powerful image of transformation — from sin to cleansing, fear to awe, and then it’s obvious beauty. It’s a good reminder that even the coldest seasons are held within the hand of God.

“Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.”

A Dangerous Lie We All Believe

Neal Pollard

We tell it in different ways. It may be, “Nobody is as bad, broken, or beaten as I am.” Or, “nobody understands what it’s like.” Or, “if anyone knew the ‘real’ me, they wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” Really, there are an infinite combination of ways we say it, but all of them boil down to some equivalent of “I am beyond the reach of God’s acceptance.”

Why is this lie so dangerous? It actually keeps us away from Him and His blessings. Our belief in our unworthiness is so deep that we keep ourselves from trying to get close to Him. Our guilt drives us to darkness, isolation, and despair. In this state, we actually feed sinfulness and encase ourselves in lethal isolation. We cannot be at our best in relationships with others and we put greater focus on self, leading to further misery and emptiness.

Perhaps the common and caustic nature of this lie is why the Bible stresses the transforming and truthful rebuttal to this devilish deception. How does the Bible respond to the idea that I am not good enough for God’s love? Consider these biblical answers.

  • God’s love is unconditional. “For while we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 7 For one will hardly die for a righteous man; though perhaps for the good man someone would dare even to die. 8 But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:6-8).
  • God IS love. “The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love” (1 John 4:8).
  • God’s love is unconquerable and indomitable by any force or power. “Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38-39).
    • God wants us to overcome. “This is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:3-4).
    • God doesn’t want anyone lost. “The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).
    • God’s forgiveness is faithfully and fully applied. “But if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:7-9).
    • God’s love is universal and proven. “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

Who is it that wants us to shun these beautiful truths? What do we gain by ignoring and rejecting them? What do we lose? None of us is perfect (Roman 3:10,23; 5:12). All of us struggle, with temptation (James 1:13-15; 1 Corinthians 10:13), with worldliness (1 John 2:15-17), with fear, and with weakness (Psalm 103:14). God has given us the resources we need to combat this terrible lie. We must see our intrinsic value in His eyes, fueled by His nature and proven by His actions. When we reject the lie, we choose the path of purpose and productivity. We can become what He intended for us to be and desires us to be. Our problems and struggles won’t disappear, but our resources to address them will become inexhaustible. Reject the lie!

Immortality

Carl Pollard

Immortality

“the ability to live forever, eternal life.” 

As a Christian, the gospel you believed is not mainly about escaping hell, it’s about entering eternal life. Immortality is the center of our hope. From the beginning, God formed us for eternal life. The Tree of Life stood in Eden as a sign. Humanity was meant to live, and to walk with God without end (Gen 2:9). Sin broke that design and brought the sentence of death (Gen 3:22-24). Death became the doorway through which grace would one day lead us back to life.

And grace has come. Jesus Christ, the Resurrection and the Life, has “abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel” (2 Tim 1:10). When He rose, He unveiled the firstfruits of a new humanity, bodies raised imperishable, souls made whole, creation set free (1 Cor 15:42-49; Rom 8:21). The same power that raised Jesus from the dead is the down-payment on our own resurrection (Eph 1:13-14; Rom 8:11).

This is why the New Testament writers spoke with triumph. “Death is swallowed up in victory!” (1 Cor 15:54). The last enemy is defeated, not negotiated with.

What will this immortality feel like? Revelation gives us the clearest glimpse: God Himself will wipe away every tear. Death, mourning, crying, and pain will be former things, remembered no more (Rev 21:4). We will see His face (Rev 22:4). We will know as we are known (1 Cor 13:12). Every longing planted in us by the Creator, longings for beauty, for love, for purpose, for home, will be satisfied beyond imagination, yet never exhausted. Eternity will not be monotonous; it will be the ever-fresh discovery of the infinite God! 

The world groans, our bodies weaken, our hearts break, but none of it is the final word. Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. And when He appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is (1 John 3:2).

Until that day, let this joy shape everything. Work without despair. Love without fear of loss. Suffer without bitterness. Give without calculation. The clock is broken, the future is secure. We are headed toward a life where sin cannot diminish us, death cannot touch us, and God will be our everlasting light.

This is the joy of immortality: not just that we will live forever, but that we will live forever with Him, fully alive and fully home.

Come, Lord Jesus.

“Coarse Jesting”: Jokes That Cross The Line

Neal Pollard

The word εὐτρᾰπελία (eutrapelia) is only found in a single New Testament verse, where Paul says, “But immorality or any impurity or greed must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints; and there must be no filthiness and silly talk, or coarse jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks” (Ephesians 5:3-4). Notice that Paul’s warnings are against immoral behavior in verse three (immorality, impurity, and greed) and immoral speech in verse four (obscenity, foolish talk, and “coarse jesting”).

In classic Greek literature, especially Aristotle and Plutarch praise clever wit as a social grace. It seems εὐτρᾰπελία indicated a quick witted and charming conversationalist. It was predominantly a positive trait in the ancient world. Yet, in the New Testament, it is speech “involving vulgar expressions and indecent content” (Louw-Nida, 392). Many lexicons define it as “ribaldry” (referring to sexual matters in an amusingly coarse or irreverent way). So, what is Paul’s point?

In essence, Paul seems to be warning about misusing that gift of intelligent and clever speech. Given the verbal vices Paul includes with this word, it seems that coarse jesting points to jokes that contain sexual innuendo or suggestiveness–especially what will cause others to laugh or be amused. There are comedians and actors who are associated with this kind of humor. Perhaps we think of classmates, coworkers, or friends who come to mind, too. But Paul says that this is going too far to get a laugh or impress the people we are speaking to. In fact, he calls it improper and not fitting!

So what does that mean for you and me? Watch those words and phrases with double meanings, that are open to two interpretations one of which is risqué or indecent. Avoid jokes where you depict ideas and thoughts which cross the line of decency. If in doubt, don’t say it. Such words and conversations are unnecessary to have a good time. Laughing and humor are extremely enjoyable, but never should we resort to ungodliness to generate it. As His ambassadors, God wants our speech to be decent, pure, and wholesome. No one should ever leave our company feeling any further from Christ, and jokes and sentences that rely on sexual suggestiveness will not accomplish righteous representation of our Redeemer!

The Quiet Sin That Still Shouts on Black Friday

Brent Pollard

For years, Black Friday earned its reputation not from ledgers but from battlegrounds—retail floors where human dignity took a backseat to door-buster deals. News cameras captured the spectacle: grown men and women trampling one another, wrestling over discounted electronics, shouting with voices hoarse from camping overnight in cold parking lots. The scenes were shocking precisely because they revealed something uncomfortable about ourselves.

Those chaotic stampedes have largely faded, replaced by the quieter click of online carts and the convenience of sales that stretch across entire weeks. Yet we would be naive to assume the spirit behind those frenzies has disappeared. Covetousness has not been conquered; it has merely changed costumes. It still prowls, perhaps more dangerously now because it moves in the shadows of normalcy.

Understanding Covetousness in a Consumer Culture

The Scriptures speak with clarity and force about covetousness. God inscribed it among the Ten Commandments—”You shall not covet” (Exodus 20.17)—placing it alongside murder and adultery as a fundamental breach of divine order. The apostle Paul equates it with idolatry (Colossians 3.5), and Jesus Himself warned that a person’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions (Luke 12.15). These are not casual observations. They are urgent warnings about a sin that destroys souls.

Yet covetousness may well be the most overlooked sin among professing Christians today. We have learned to identify sins that announce themselves—drunkenness carries an odor, anger has volume, and sexual immorality brings scandal. But covetousness? It wears the mask of prudence. It masquerades as ambition, self-care, or simply “keeping up.” In a world built on consumption, covetousness looks like Tuesday afternoon.

This is precisely what makes it lethal. When sin begins to look like normal living, we cease to call it sin at all. If the enemy of our souls seeks to neutralize the church without triggering alarms, covetousness serves as his preferred weapon—quiet, respectable, and devastatingly effective.

The Warning of Jesus: “Take Heed and Beware”

In Luke 12.15, our Lord issues a double warning with deliberate urgency: “Take heed, and beware of covetousness.” Two imperatives, one breath. Why such emphasis? Because Jesus understood what we often forget—that the human heart is perpetually vulnerable to the lie that more will satisfy.

Notice that Christ does not merely say “avoid” covetousness. He says take heed, which means to pay careful, sustained attention, and beware, which calls for active vigilance. This is not passive resistance but intentional, disciplined watchfulness. The implication is sobering: covetousness will not announce itself. It will arrive disguised as legitimate need, reasonable desire, or innocent comparison.

Let us be clear: Black Friday itself is not inherently sinful. Wisdom in stewardship often means seeking good value, and thoughtful purchasing can serve both family and generosity. The issue is not the calendar date or the transaction but the condition of the heart engaging in it. When we participate in the marketplace, do we do so with contentment and purpose, or with the restless craving that can never be filled?

The frenzy that once defined Black Friday—and the subtler compulsions that still drive much of our economic behavior—expose three spiritual dangers we dare not ignore.

Three Spiritual Dangers of Covetousness

Covetousness Normalizes Discontent

God calls His children to contentment (1 Timothy 6.6-8; Hebrews 13.5). Yet covetousness whispers constantly that what we have is insufficient. It trains us to focus not on what we possess but on what we lack. This is not mere pragmatic planning for the future; it is a spiritual disease that robs us of peace and gratitude in the present.

As has been observed, the man who has God and everything else has no more than the man who has God alone. Covetousness blinds us to this truth. It convinces us that one more purchase, one more upgrade, one more experience will finally deliver the satisfaction we seek. But the nature of covetousness is that it never delivers. It only promises.

Consider how advertising works: it manufactures dissatisfaction. Before the ad, you were content. After the ad, you feel incomplete without the product. This is spiritual warfare dressed in marketing language, and it works because our hearts are already fertile ground for discontent.

Covetousness Trains Us to Measure Worth by Possessions

Jesus teaches that life does not consist in the abundance of things (Luke 12.15). Yet covetousness reverses this wisdom, teaching us to evaluate ourselves and others based on what can be seen, touched, and posted online.

Someone seeking material possessions only creates for themselves a gilded prison. When our identity becomes intertwined with our acquisitions, we trap ourselves in an exhausting cycle of comparison and competition. We measure our worth not by God’s declaration of value through Christ but by fluctuating market standards.

This is practical idolatry. The accumulation of things becomes not merely a means to life but the meaning of life itself. And when this happens, we have exchanged the Creator for created things—precisely what Paul condemns in Romans 1.25.

Covetousness Weakens Our Gratitude

Perhaps nothing reveals the corrosive effect of covetousness more clearly than its assault on thanksgiving. The covetous heart cannot truly give thanks because it is perpetually focused on what it does not yet have. Gratitude looks backward and upward, recognizing God’s provision. Covetousness looks forward and laterally, cataloging deficiencies and envying neighbors.

This is why the day after Thanksgiving can be so spiritually jarring. One day we gather to express thanks for God’s blessings; the next, we rush to acquire more as if what we have is inadequate. The irony should not escape us. Covetousness turns thanksgiving into hypocrisy.

Fighting Covetousness With Eternal Treasure

How then do we fight? Not by suppressing desire—God created us with the capacity to want, to long, to pursue. The battle against covetousness is not won by desiring less but by desiring better things.

Jesus provides the antidote in Matthew 6.19-21: “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

This is not poetry; it is economics. Jesus is telling us to invest wisely. Earth’s treasures decay, disappoint, and ultimately disintegrate. Heaven’s treasures endure. The question is not whether we will treasure something—we cannot avoid doing so—but what we will treasure and where.

God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him. Covetousness is defeated not when we grit our teeth and endure deprivation but when we discover a satisfaction so profound that lesser things lose their grip. When Christ becomes our treasure, sales and upgrades and status symbols fade into their proper insignificance.

If we covet trivialities, it is because we have not yet tasted the goodness of God. We chase shadows because we have not yet stood in the light.

Practical Steps to Guard Against Covetousness

All truth must become actionable or it remains mere information. What then shall we do?

First, practice intentional gratitude. Before making any significant purchase, pause to list what God has already provided. This simple discipline reorients the heart from scarcity to abundance.

Second, examine your motives. Ask: Am I buying this because I need it, or because I want what someone else has? Am I seeking to fill a legitimate need, or am I trying to fill a spiritual void with material things?

Third, give generously. Nothing breaks the power of covetousness faster than open-handed generosity. When we give, we declare that God—not possessions—is our source and security.

Fourth, fast from consumption. Consider seasons of deliberate simplicity. Skip sales. Avoid browsing. Create space to discover that you already have enough.

Fifth, redirect your desires. Cultivate hunger for spiritual realities—Scripture, prayer, fellowship, service. Feed your soul the bread of life so that the world’s junk food loses its appeal.

The Greatest Bargain Ever Offered

Black Friday will come and go with its sales, advertisements, and temptations. The receipts will fade, the products will break, and the cycle will repeat. But the danger of covetousness remains, not just on one day but every day we draw breath in this consumer culture.

Yet hear the good news: The greatest bargain ever offered is still available, and it requires no credit card. A life emptied of covetousness and filled with Christ is a life money cannot buy. This treasure is free to all who will receive it, paid for not by our purchasing power but by the precious blood of Jesus Christ.

God offers us satisfaction that lasts, joy that endures, and treasure that neither moth nor rust can destroy. The transaction is complete. The price is paid. The only question is whether we will stop chasing shadows long enough to embrace the substance.

May we be a people who treasure Christ above all things, who find in Him a satisfaction so complete that the world’s bargains become irrelevant. For in Him we have already received everything—and what we have cannot be improved by any sale, upgraded by any purchase, or diminished by any economy.

Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Choose wisely.

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book II, 3.7)

Gary Pollard

[This is a continuing translation of Origen’s systematic theology in modern language]

We have described, to the best of our ability, the three main views about the end of all things and about humanity’s final state. Each reader should carefully decide for himself which (if any) of these possibilities should be accepted.1 

The first is the “future incorporeal existence” possibility. It could be that conscious beings will live without bodies entirely once all things have become subject to Christ and God the father (when God is “all in all”). 

Or, it may be that bodily nature itself will be joined to the purest spirits and changed into a celestial, radiant state. This would be when all things have been subjected to Christ and God, and when conscious beings will have become “one spirit” with God. This change would occur in proportion to the quality of each person, as the apostle said, “We will all be changed.” In this view, the body becomes shining and glorious and ethereal. 

Finally, it may be that the righteous will reach the stable place above the non-wandering sphere (the απλανης), the realm beyond the stars. This would be when the visible form of earth passes away, when all corruption is removed, and when we have left behind everything in the visible cosmos — including the planets. This region is described as “the good land,” “the land of the living,” and “the inheritance of the meek and gentle.” 

Above this land is the true sky, far greater and more beautiful, which surrounds our own sky. In this highest sky — and in its own earth — the end and perfection of all things may safely be placed. People who have been disciplined and purified may be granted a home in that land. This would fulfill the sayings, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” And, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, they will inherit the kingdom of the heavens.” And then the psalm, “He will exalt you, and you will inherit the land.” 

Coming down to this present earth is called a “descent”. But entering that higher realm is called an “exaltation”. So, in this view, there appears to be some kind of road: the believer departs from this earth to those higher heavens. They don’t live forever in the “good land”, but stay there with the intention of progressing further until they ultimately receive the full inheritance of the kingdom of the heavens once they have reached the highest degree of perfection. 

1 This entire passage has likely been heavily redacted and probably doesn’t reflect Origen’s views at all. 

  1. Phrases like “supreme blessedness”, “fixed abode”, “pious and good”, etc. reflect Latin moral/legal thought, post-Nicene ascetic theology, and Rufinus’s personal vocabulary. Origen almost exclusively used words like λογος, νοητος, τοπος, θεωρια; he emphasized αποκατασταστις παντων (the restoration of all things), “movement” language like κινησις and νοερα φυσις, and an upgraded mind — not “purgation” or “discharging obligations” as this passage originally put it. 
  2. The line, “After their apprehension and their chastisement for the offences…by way of purgation, having discharged every obligation” is not Origen. To him, purification came from intellectual correction, not “chastisements” or “obligations”. In Origen’s way of thinking, souls were purified through divine teaching through ages. 
  3. The “good land” and two-tiered reward in this passage is not Origen. As stated in A, he believed in a gradual restoration of all things to God, resulting in re-integration into God (επιστροφη), when God is all-in-all. This section has suspiciously Latin, post-Nicene structure: the good land as a reward for purified believers, heaven as a higher reward for the “more perfect”, and the purged and meek inheriting the kingdom. Whether correct or not, it has little in common with Origen and much in common with a Latin moral hierarchy. 
  4. This passage repeatedly emphasizes “inheritance of heaven”. Origen almost never used inheritance language, at least not as a final state. He spoke of restoration of conscious wills, an intellectual union with God, perpetual progress (επεκτασις), and the transformation of spiritual bodies. Today’s passage is reward-based and legally-framed. Very Latin, very Rufinus. 
  5. This eschatological passage doesn’t even explicitly mention Origen’s beloved αποκαταστασις. His original Greek would almost certainly have tied the “final blessed state” to the restoration of all things. Rufinus did this many times in other similar passages. 
  6. Finally, in the surviving Greek texts (mainly Contra Celsum, Commentary on John, and Commentary on Romans), Origen never used the Latin “purgation” language seen here. He never described “the good land” and “heaven” as separate eschatological places. He never talked about “discharging obligations”. He never created a multi-tier reward ladder. 

I’ve added this to today’s article because it’s important to understand that these historical texts can and have been interfered with. Don’t take my word for it — Origen scholars Crouzel, Daniélou, Torjesen, Heine, and Remelli have all noted that Books II & III of First Principles have been extensively re-written. This passage is just one example of the orthodox smoothing, moralizing, Latin eschatological redactions, and outright omissions of speculative cosmology that Rufinus was infamous for. 

The Silence Of The Lamb

Neal Pollard

What do you contemplate during the Lord’s Supper? Your mind could go in a thousand directions, the cruelty and infliction of pain, the hatred and rejection, the eternal plan of God, His unending love, the ugliness of your sin, and on and on.

There is a curious aspect to the entire frenetic proceedings that Jesus endured. You first read about it in Isaiah’s prophecy concerning the atonement offered by the “Suffering Servant.” The prophet wrote, “He was oppressed and He was afflicted, Yet He did not open His mouth; Like a lamb that is led to slaughter, And like a sheep that is silent before its shearers, So He did not open His mouth” (53:7; cf. Acts 8:32). For emphasis, he says it twice: “He did not open His mouth.”

At the end of the gospel accounts, after Jesus’ arrest, we see two significant periods of time where this applied to Him. Before the Jews in the farce and mockery of a trial, Jesus kept silent (Mat. 26:63; Mark 14:62; Luke 23:9). Then, when handed before the Romans and their governor, Pilate, He did not answer (Mat. 27:12-14) and He gave him no answer (John 19:9). Scholars have scoured the ancient records in an effort to find anything like it in the legal annals of the Jews or Greco-Roman society.

Why did Jesus keep silent through the judgment phase of His crucifixion? He was not totally silent (Mat. 26:64; Luke 22:67-701), but as the charges bombarded and cascaded He gave no rebuttal. It was not that He could not. He had bested them in every debate and silenced them (see Mat. 22:46).

Why the silence?

  • He came to suffer, not to speak.
  • They would not have been convinced by His words any more than His wonderful works.
  • Jesus does not see this as a legal matter, but a spiritual necessity.
  • He placed His fate in the hands of God, as He prayed in Gethsemane (Mat. 26:39; John 6:38).
  • He accepted His situation.
  • The charge brought by two witnesses in Matthew 26:60-61 was technically true, though they twisted His words.
  • It provides a stark and compelling contrast between accusers and accused, which the reader readily sees.

No doubt there are more reasons, some known only to God. But it provides as much tension and drama in the Passion as it does confirmation of prophetic claims. It stands as but one of a thousand pictures of a loving, determined Savior to endure whatever necessary to pay for our sins with His life. The next time you contemplate the various “scenes of fear and woe,” take a moment to reflect on the silence of the Lamb. Through it, He truly speaks volumes!


1The reason for this is explained well by Stuart K. Weber : “When Jesus refused to answer and the attempts of the chief priests failed to convict Jesus, Caiaphas took the lead. I charge you under oath by the living God was the priest’s trump card. According to Jewish law, the priest had the authority to force a person to testify. If Jesus remained silent, he would violate the law. His decision to answer showed his respect for civil law and authority” (Holman NTC, 446-447).

When Love Becomes A Command

Brent Pollard

Learning Love in a World That Forgot Its Meaning

Kyoto Animation released an animated series about an orphan who becomes a weapon of war in a fictional world resembling early twentieth-century Europe. The orphan’s name was Violet Evergarden. During her time in the war, her last handler, Major Gilbert Bougainvillea, couldn’t see her as just a weapon. In their final campaign together, he was gravely injured, and Violet herself was severely hurt. Major Bougainvillea’s last words to Violet were words she could not understand: “I love you.”

When Violet wakes up, she is recovering from her injuries, unaware of the Major’s whereabouts. Claudia Hodgins, Gilbert’s friend, keeps his promise to care for Violet. Hodgins runs the C.H. Postal Company, an amanuensis service where women called Auto Memory Dolls type letters for a largely illiterate population. He offers Violet a job, which she accepts mainly to understand Bougainvillea’s final words. As she interacts with clients, Violet gradually uncovers the true meaning of that mysterious word “love.”

Love That Transcends Death

Of her clients, the one most closely imitating biblical love was Clara Magnolia. Clara was terminally ill and knew she would not live to see her daughter, Anne, grow up. Despite her pain and limited time, her primary focus was ensuring her daughter would feel loved and guided throughout her life, long after she was gone. Clara spent her final days dictating fifty letters to Violet—one for each of Anne’s birthdays for the next half-century.

This required immense effort and time away from the little she had left with her daughter. Her love was not merely a feeling but a tangible plan of action that transcended death. She arranged for annual delivery, providing enduring comfort and a constant reminder of her presence. Her goal was solely Anne’s well-being and emotional security, giving her the strength to move forward despite the loss. Violet herself was profoundly moved, crying for the first time as she processed the depth of a mother’s love.

Here was love in its purest form—not sentiment, but sacrifice. Not words alone, but action that costs something. The mother’s letters became a testament to love’s refusal to be conquered by death itself.

Why Love Must Be Commanded

Violet Evergarden’s unfamiliarity with love might seem extreme to us. Yet this is understandable, given her background—an orphan raised without nurturing, trained from childhood to fight her country’s enemies. Major Bougainvillea was the only person who ever showed her kindness. Consequently, the phrase “I love you” would seem foreign to her. If someone had asked her to love at that moment, it would have felt more like a command than a natural feeling.

And here lies a profound truth: Christ’s love is commanded precisely because it does not come naturally to us.

The New Commandment That Wasn’t Exactly New

Have you ever wondered why Jesus called His command to love a “new commandment” or why such a command was even needed? (John 13:34). Moses’ Law instructed people to love their neighbors as themselves (Leviticus 19:18). But by Jesus’ time, legalists had distorted this idea so much that they only required love for a specific group they chose.

To correct this misconception, Jesus told the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). In the story, a member of a hated ethnic group is depicted as the neighbor. Unlike the priest and Levite, this Samaritan demonstrated compassion toward a stranger. As Jesus describes him, this Samaritan was ready to set aside his own self-interest to love another (see Philippians 2:3-8).

The newness of Jesus’ command lay not in its novelty but in its radical scope and depth. God, in His sovereignty, ordained that His people would be marked not by external rituals but by sacrificial love—the very nature of His own character made visible in human relationships.

The Washing of Feet and the Death of Self

In the context of Jesus’ command to demonstrate this “new love,” He humbled Himself by kneeling to wash His disciples’ feet (John 13:4ff). As no one was there to fulfill the role of hospitality, Jesus took on that servant role Himself. By doing so, He set aside His position as “Lord and Master” (John 13:14 KJV). Jesus also assumed this role to correct the disciples’ misunderstanding about who was the greatest among them (see Luke 22:24).

He did this because, as Paul later explained, this love “does not seek its own benefit” (1 Corinthians 13:5 NASB). Such is this self-sacrificial love that it enabled Jesus to demonstrate it fully by laying down His life for others (John 15:13).

Consider the basin and towel. In that moment, the infinite became the servant of the finite. The God who spoke galaxies into existence knelt to wash the dust from human feet. This was no mere object lesson but the revelation of what love actually is: the voluntary descent of the greater to serve the lesser, the strong making themselves weak for the sake of the weak.

Learning to Love the Unlovable

The reason Jesus had to command this love is that it doesn’t come naturally to us. We often see love as reciprocal—if you love me, I will love you back. Jesus understood this mindset, so He taught that we should love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:43-44).

He also demonstrated this love personally. As the Romans crucified Him, Jesus asked for forgiveness for those who had clamored for His death: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34 KJV). Although such love can be challenging to learn, it is possible to learn. The first Christian martyr, Stephen, exemplified this love when he prayed for his killers: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them!” (Acts 7:60 NASB95).

The Mark That Cannot Be Counterfeited

Jesus continues in John 13:35: “By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another” (NASB95). There is no doubt that the lack of unity in messaging among those calling themselves Christian discourages the world from accepting Christ. But perhaps more damaging than this confusion is the failure of God’s people to demonstrate the new love of Jesus Christ.

In a world full of people like the fictional Violet Evergarden—who fail to understand the meaning of love—Christians are supposed to be known for showing true love. They are called to love one another unconditionally, just as Christ loved them. This kind of love is sacrificial, forgiving, and selfless—traits that are counter-cultural and truly distinguish Christians.

Someone once observed that the church’s greatest testimony is not her doctrine, though doctrine matters immensely, but her life. When believers love with the love of Christ, they create a spiritual reality that cannot be explained away by skeptics or replicated by the world. This love is not sentiment but substance—not the shadow of affection but the solid thing itself, rooted in the eternal nature of God.

A Love That Transforms the World

By demonstrating this love through their actions and relationships, believers have the opportunity to genuinely reflect the character of Christ to a hurting and broken world. It is through this love that hearts can be changed and lives can be eternally transformed, drawing others to the hope and redemption found in Jesus.

Like Clara Magnolia, writing letters that would outlive her, Christians are called to practice a love that transcends the immediate, serving not for reward but because Christ first loved us. Like the Samaritan who stopped when others passed by, we must demonstrate compassion that costs us something. Like Stephen facing his executioners, we must learn to forgive even when forgiveness seems impossible.

This is not natural. This is not easy. But this is the call. And in God’s sovereign design, it is precisely this impossible love—commanded, learned, and practiced—that becomes the most powerful witness to His reality. For when the world sees Christians loving as Christ loved, they encounter not merely human kindness but divine character made visible in human form.

The question Violet Evergarden spent a series discovering remains before us: What does love truly mean? The answer lies not in understanding alone but in obedience—the daily choice to love as we have been loved, to serve as we have been served, to forgive as we have been forgiven.

Biblical Prophecy

Carl Pollard

Prophecy is one of the boldest claims any religious text can make: that a transcendent God reveals specific future events, sometimes centuries or millennia in advance, through human spokesmen. The Bible contains roughly 2,500 prophecies, of which most have already been fulfilled with 100 percent accuracy! The remaining prophecy are yet to come with the return of Christ. This track record is unique among world religions and texts. 

Deuteronomy 18:21–22 gives us the standard: “If what a prophet proclaims in the name of the Lord does not take place or come true, that is a message the Lord has not spoken.” A single verifiable failure disqualifies a prophet. By this biblical standard,  Muhammad, Joseph Smith, Nostradamus, and every modern “psychic” are eliminated. No biblical prophet ever fails when the prophecy is testable.

Biblical prophecy is extremely detailed, not the vague horoscope-style language used by many today. For example: 

  1. Micah 5:2 (700 BC) names Bethlehem Ephrathah as the Messiah’s birthplace, out of hundreds of Judean villages.
  2. Isaiah 44:28–45:1 (700 BC) names Cyrus as the Persian king who would release the Jews to rebuild Jerusalem, 150 years before Cyrus was born.
  3. Psalm 22 (1000 BC) describes crucifixion, nails in hands and feet, garments divided by lots, centuries before Rome invented the practice.
  4. Zechariah 11:12–13 foretells the betrayal price of thirty pieces of silver, cast to the potter in the temple, fulfilled to the letter in Judas Iscariot (Matthew 27:3–10).

Mathematician Peter Stoner calculated the odds of one man fulfilling just eight messianic prophecies at 1 in 10¹⁷ (one followed by seventeen zeros). For forty-eight prophecies, the probability drops to 1 in 10¹⁵⁷ a number so large that if you filled the state of Texas two feet deep with silver dollars, marked one, and asked a blindfolded person to pick it on the first try, those are the odds.

Skeptics dismiss prophecy as “after-the-fact interpretation” or “self-fulfilling.” Yet many predictions (the fall of Tyre in Ezekiel 26; the precise sequence of empires in Daniel 2 and 7; the desolation of Edom in Obadiah, Jeremiah 49) were fulfilled centuries later in ways no human could manipulate.

Biblical prophecy is not fortune-telling; it is history written in advance by the only Being who stands outside time. Its perfect record remains the strongest external evidence that the Bible is exactly what it claims to be: the word of the living God! 

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.