Tag: Bible

The Tongue, The Truth, And The Tangled Web:

Why Honesty Is Not Just A Policy But A Posture Of The Soul

Brent Pollard

Sir Walter Scott warned us well: “Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.” There is a reason this line has endured for two centuries. It endures because it is true, and truth has a way of outlasting the cleverest fabrication. A lie is not a single act; it is a seed that demands constant tending. The deceiver must water it with more lies, fertilize it with half-truths, and build an ever-expanding greenhouse of falsehood to keep the fragile plant alive. And yet, for all this labor, the harvest is always the same—exposure, shame, and broken trust. The liar works harder than the honest man, and his wages are ruin.

The Anatomy of Deception

We must be honest about dishonesty. People lie for different reasons, and those reasons matter—not because they excuse the lie, but because understanding the disease helps us apply the remedy. Some lies are born of cowardice. Others spring from vanity. Still others are calculated instruments of plunder.

Consider the pathological liar—a person so enslaved to falsehood that he fabricates elaborate stories without any discernible motive. Clinically, this pattern must persist for more than six months to warrant the label, though we are tempted to apply it more liberally. The pathological liar is not scheming for profit; he is performing for an audience that exists largely in his own mind. He seeks to appear grander, more interesting, more worthy of attention than reality permits. His is a pitiable bondage—chained not to external gain but to an internal compulsion that even he may not fully understand.

The scammer, by contrast, is coldly deliberate. While the pathological liar deceives from compulsion, the scammer deceives from calculation. His target is your wallet, your identity, your trust—anything of value he can extract and exploit. He is the wolf who has studied the sheep’s gait and practiced the sheep’s bleat. One thinks of the elaborate call-center operations where criminals masquerade as computer technicians, preying on the elderly and the trusting. The scammer’s lie is a tool, sharpened and wielded with precision, and it is wielded without conscience.

The Colors We Give Our Lies

It is a curious thing that our culture has developed an entire color wheel for deception, as though assigning a shade to a lie could soften its edges. The “white lie” lubricates the gears of social interaction—a small, supposedly harmless falsehood meant to spare another’s feelings. The “black lie” is its dark counterpart: intentional, exploitative, and universally condemned. Between these poles lie “gray lies,” told for mixed motives—partly to help another and partly to help oneself. These are said to be the most common variety, and perhaps the most insidious, because their ambiguity allows us to excuse them.

Then there is the “blue lie,” told to benefit a group—covering a colleague’s mistake, protecting the team’s reputation. And the “red lie,” which is deception as a weapon, driven by spite so consuming that the liar will injure himself if it means injuring his enemy. This last variety reveals the darkest truth about lying: it is not merely a moral failure but a spiritual sickness. A man so enslaved to vengeance that he will set fire to his own house to burn his neighbor’s—that is a soul in desperate need of deliverance.

But here is the point we must not miss: this spectrum of color is a human invention. God does not grade our lies on a curve.

What God Says About Lying

Scripture treats deception with an unsparing directness that should arrest every honest reader. Solomon declares that “lying lips are an abomination to the Lord” (Proverbs 12.22, ESV). That word—abomination—is not casual disapproval. It is visceral revulsion. It is the word used for the most grievous offenses against the holy character of God. And John, writing from Patmos, places liars in the company of the cowardly, the faithless, the murderers, and the sexually immoral, all of whom face the lake of fire (Revelation 21.8). There is no footnote exempting the “white” variety.

The reason is not arbitrary. Lying is an assault on the very nature of God. He is truth (John 14.6). He cannot lie (Titus 1.2). And the devil, that ancient serpent, is identified as the “father of lies” (John 8.44)—the original architect of deception whose native tongue is falsehood. Every lie, however small, however well-intentioned, speaks a word in the devil’s language. Every lie, to some degree, allies itself with the one who deceived Eve in the garden and who continues to deceive the nations.

And yet Scripture does not categorize lies by color. It categorizes them by function. Bearing false witness perverts justice and destroys the innocent (Exodus 20.16). Hypocrisy dons a mask of righteousness to conceal a rotting interior (Matthew 23.28). Flattery deploys smooth words as instruments of manipulation (Psalm 12.2). And self-deception—perhaps the most dangerous of all—convinces us that we have no sin, thus cutting us off from the very grace that could heal us (1 John 1.8).

When Survival Demands the Impossible

We would be dishonest ourselves if we did not acknowledge the hard cases. Rahab lied to protect the Israelite spies at Jericho (Joshua 2.4ff), and James commends her for her actions (James 2.25). Certain Germans during the Second World War—Oskar Schindler, Karl Plagge, and others—lied to the SS to rescue Jews from the gas chambers. These are the extreme edges of moral experience, where the preservation of innocent life collided with the command to speak truth.

But we must be careful not to build a theology of exceptions from a handful of extraordinary moments. Most of us will never face the Gestapo at our door. Most of our lies arise only to spare someone’s feelings or shield us from inconvenience. When survival is genuinely at stake, we may find ourselves trusting in God’s grace to cover what necessity demands. But we must never mistake that trust for permission, nor should we pretend that a lie ceases to be a lie simply because the motive was noble. Even in the direst circumstance, we are speaking a falsehood—and we do so in the sober awareness that we need mercy, not congratulations.

Practical Disciplines for Truthful Living

Practice the discipline of silence. The simplest way to reduce the frequency of our lies is to reduce the frequency of our words. Solomon understood this. Even a fool, he observed, can pass for wise if he keeps his mouth shut (Proverbs 17.28). And again: “When words are many, transgression is not lacking” (Proverbs 10.19, ESV). James echoes this counsel with an urgency that suggests the early church needed the reminder as badly as we do: “Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak” (James 1.19, ESV). When Elijah stood on Horeb, God was not in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire—He was in the still, small voice (1 Kings 19.12). There is something about silence that makes room for God to speak. Words are powerful, and power must be handled with care. The man who speaks less has fewer opportunities to sin—and more opportunities to listen, which is where wisdom begins.

Cultivate a radical simplicity of speech. Elaborate explanations are the breeding ground of exaggeration. Complex oaths are the refuge of the uncommitted. Jesus cut through all of it with surgical precision: “Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’” (Matthew 5.37, ESV). In His day, men would swear by the temple if they wanted an escape clause, but swear by the gold of the temple if they actually intended to keep their word (Matthew 23.16–22). Jesus condemned the entire charade. Our speech should be so plain, so dependable, that oaths become unnecessary. Solomon warned that there is more hope for a fool than for a man who is hasty in his words (Proverbs 29.20). Let us, then, be deliberate. Let our yes mean yes and our no mean no, and let us leave the embellishments to novelists.

Guard the heart from which your words flow. Jesus warned that the mouth speaks from the overflow of the heart (Matthew 12.34). If the well is poisoned, it does not matter how fine the cup—the water will still be toxic. Truthful speech begins not with technique but with character. It begins with the prayer of the psalmist: “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!” (Psalm 139.23–24, ESV). It continues with the daily plea: “Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips!” (Psalm 141.3, ESV). The man who invites God to search his motives will find that honesty becomes less of a discipline and more of a disposition.

Establish a practice of immediate confession. When a lie escapes—and it will, for we are fallen creatures—the remedy is swift confession. Confess to God, who is faithful and just, to be forgiven (1 John 1.9). Confess to the person wronged, for healing comes through the honesty we should have practiced in the first place (James 5.16). Immediate confession prevents a pattern from forming. It breaks the cycle before the web can be woven. And it must be paired with the commitment to speak the truth in love (Ephesians 4.15)—for honesty without love is cruelty, and love without honesty is sentimentality. Neither one honors the God who is both perfectly true and perfectly kind.

A Posture of the Soul

Honesty is not merely a policy. Policies can be revised, suspended, or abandoned when they become inconvenient. Honesty is a posture of the soul before a God who cannot lie and who will not be mocked. It is the daily, deliberate alignment of our words with reality, which is to say, the alignment of our words with the character of the One who created reality and sustains it by the word of His power.

In a world that grades deception by color and excuses it by circumstance, we are called to a higher standard—one rooted not in social convention but in the very nature of our Creator. Let us, then, be people whose words need no footnotes, whose promises require no collateral, and whose speech reflects the One in whom there is no shadow of turning. For when we commit ourselves to truth, we do more than avoid sin—we bear witness to the Father of lights in a world darkened by the father of lies.

How To Handle Anxiety

Carl Pollard

Anxiety is one of the most common struggles people face today. Worry about finances, family, health, and the future can weigh heavily on our minds. While modern culture often treats anxiety purely as a psychological problem, Scripture addresses it as a spiritual battle of trust and perspective. The Bible doesn’t ignore anxiety, it provides a clear path for confronting it through faith.

One of the most direct teachings on anxiety comes from Philippians 4:6–7, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

The Command: Reject Anxiety

Sounds pretty straight forward, but Paul begins with a clear instruction: “Do not be anxious about anything.” The Greek word for anxious (merimnao) literally means “to be pulled in different directions.” Anxiety divides the mind between trust in God and fear of circumstances.

This command doesn’t deny that life contains real problems. Instead, it teaches that Christian’s aren’t meant to carry those burdens alone. Anxiety often grows when we try to control what only God can control. And we feed it constantly by trying to be in control! 

The Exchange: Prayer Instead of Worry

Paul replaces anxiety with a specific practice, prayer. Notice the progression in the verse:

  • Prayer, general communication with God.
  • Supplication, specific requests for help.
  • Thanksgiving, gratitude for what God has already done.

Thanksgiving is especially important. Gratitude shifts the focus from what might go wrong to what God has already proven faithful to do. When we intentionally bring our concerns to God, anxiety is exchanged for dependence.

The Result: God’s Guarding Peace

Paul promises that when we practice this pattern, “the peace of God… will guard your hearts and minds.” The word guard is a military term describing soldiers protecting a city. God’s peace stands guard over our inner life, protecting the heart (emotions) and the mind (thoughts).

Notice Paul says, this peace “surpasses understanding.” This doesn’t mean every problem disappears. Instead, God gives a calm confidence even when circumstances remain uncertain.

Jesus addressed anxiety in Matthew 6:25–34. Three times He tells His listeners “do not worry.” His reasoning centers on God’s care. God feeds the birds of the air. God clothes the lilies of the field. Humans are far more valuable than either! 

Jesus concludes in Matthew 6:33, “Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” The biblical solution to anxiety isnt control of circumstances but proper priority. When life is centered on God’s kingdom, daily needs fall into their proper place.

Scripture gives several practical steps for dealing with anxiety. 

1. Identify the source of worry. Anxiety often grows from fear of the future or loss of control.

2. Replace worry with prayer immediately.

Instead of rehearsing problems mentally, bring them to God. If you’re already thinking about them, think about it with God. 

3. Practice intentional gratitude. Remembering God’s past faithfulness strengthens trust for the present.

4. Focus on today.

Jesus said, “Do not worry about tomorrow” (Matthew 6:34). A lot of anxiety comes from imagining problems that haven’t happened yet. 

The Bible doesn’t promise a life free from stressful circumstances, but it promises something better, the peace of God. Anxiety shrinks when we remember who God is, trust His care, and continually bring our concerns to Him in prayer.

When the heart learns to surrender control to God, worry gives way to confidence, and fear is replaced with peace.

Sorry, Chase! (Part 3)

Gary Pollard

At long last, we’re going to look at the five pillars — the main observations of Hughes in his video The ancients decoded reality. In case this is the first article you’re reading in the series, a brief explanation is in order. This content creator clearly spent a great deal of time and effort in studying all of these ancient texts and looking for similarities between them (over 180 sources spanning multiple cultures, epochs, languages, and religions). Most of his observations are excellent and intellectually stimulating! Some of his conclusions, where Christianity is concerned at least, are erroneous. Because (reference the first article) he posits cross-compatibility between all religions, this would make Christianity just another in an ocean of faiths. Jesus, in this framework, would be just another wise man, no different from Siddhartha Gautama or Lao Tze or Solon. The problem, from a Christian’s perspective, is that this denies Jesus’s status as God-man. No message is from God if it doesn’t acknowledge Jesus as coming from God. It comes from the enemies of Christ, the ones you heard were coming and are in the world right now (I Jn 4.1-3). 

I don’t for a second believe that Mr. Hughes is intentionally leading the Christians in his audience away from truth. He seems to be wholly genuine and has provided helpful (even life-changing) material for millions of people. But if the foundation isn’t solid, the message will be flawed. Whether with intent or as a result of ignorance, the potential for damage to a Christian’s faith is the same. Ironically, he quotes a passage from I John in the video in the same short chapter as the verse quoted above. 

Anyway, the first main observation is this: “You are not separate. You never were, you never could be.” He cites: 

  1. Upanishads: “You are that” (not connected to it, not loved by it, you are the thing itself.  Jesus said, “The entire kingdom of God is within you, not in a building or a book, in you”)
  2. Sufi texts: “You are not a drop in the ocean, you are the entire ocean in a drop.” 
  3. Hermetic texts: “All is one” 
  4. Taoism: “Everything is the Dao, expressing itself in ten thousand forms” 
  5. Popul Vuh: “Heart of sky, heart of earth” 
  6. Buddhism: “There is no separate self” 
  7. Kabbala: “Creation is one emanation divided only in appearance” 

On the face of things, this argument is not a bad one — and it certainly contains elements of truth. Jesus very often quoted from the ancient texts of the Jews, and used the ίερα γράμματα to establish eternal principles. Yes, the kingdom of God isn’t in any building or exclusively contained within any book. But his kingdom is also not comprised of all people allowing reality to experience itself through their eyes. Multiple times in the gospels he clearly taught that some will inherit that kingdom, and some will not. He told one teacher of the law, “You are close to God’s kingdom” (Mk 12.34). 

According to Mt 3.2 and 4.17, personal changes have to be made to be accepted in God’s kingdom. 

In Mt 5.3, that kingdom belongs to certain people (poor in spirit, persecuted because of faith). 

In 5.20, anyone who isn’t morally better than the Pharisees is barred from God’s kingdom. 

In 7.21, not everyone who claims to serve him will enter the kingdom. 

Multiple times, he says that God’s kingdom is “almost here” (3.2, 4.17, 10.7), and instructed his followers to pray that God’s kingdom would come (6.10, 33). If it existed exclusively within them (and/or within all people), how would some be excluded and some not? Why pray for and anticipate its arrival if it was already within them? We know it was something tangible because he said, “Some of you will still be alive when they see the Son of Man come with his kingdom” (Mt 16.28). 

God’s kingdom ≠ The Universe expressing itself in ten thousand forms. It is the new, someday-perfected, ideal form of personal and cultural identity. This is an identity that won’t be realized fully until Jesus returns (and is today made up of his followers). It transcends national borders, cultures, languages, and any other barrier that historically has prevented people separated by these things from playing nice with each other. It’s a return to the relationship we had with each other and with him before humanity fell. 

Besides this (critical!) aspect, the rest is good general advice — isolation is not fundamentally real, obsession with self leads to unethical behavior, etc. We are not, however, one field of consciousness expressing itself through billions of different viewpoints. The extreme emphasis in the New Testament on others-above-self calls for more concrete distinction between individuals than this worldview allows. We are truly, though, one. Not by our very nature, but because Jesus made it possible for everyone to be unified through his name, by his power. This means that there are, unfortunately, people who will not be one with him. Our hope is that by doing for others what we want them to do for us, we can lead them to the Source who is Truth and who will unify all of creation in himself when earth’s number is up. 

Let’s Be Preoccupied

Neal Pollard

Being engrossed in thought or distracted can be a bad thing, when you are driving, operating heavy equipment, or conversing with your spouse. But if you are preoccupied with those tasks, you should be commended. There is a word found a handful of times in the New Testament which conveys a powerful thought. The word is προσκαρτερέω (prostartereo). Depending on context and whether it is connected with a person or an object, it is translated “stand ready” (Mark 3:9), “devoting” (Acts 1:14; 2:42; 6:4; Rom. 12:12; 13:6; Col. 4:2), “continuing” (Acts 2:46; 8:13), and “personal attendants” (Acts 10:7, noun form). Two of the passages speak of physical laborers who were focused on a task for one who had the right or power to command them (Mark 3:9; Acts 10:7; the Greek Old Testament uses this word in Numbers 13:21 when Moses tells the spies to “make an effort then to get some of the fruit of the land”). One speaks of how earthly rulers are servants of God, devoted to their rule). The other passages refer to actions Christians took the initiative to do.

What preoccupied the time, thoughts, and energies of the early saints?

  • Prayer (Acts 1:14; 2:42; 6:4; Col. 4:2).
  • The Apostles’ Teaching (Acts 2:42).
  • Fellowship (Acts 2:42).
  • The Lord’s Supper (Acts 2:42).
  • The Ministry Of The Word (Acts 6:4).

It’s not a long and complicated list. They were engrossed in the public and private practice of prayer. They were riveted on studying and knowing and sharing the Word. They were dialed in to spending time with each other (and welcoming others to become part of them). They were obsessed with coming together to praise and adore God in worship. It affected their whole lives all the time.

The word carries the idea “of decisive or unflinching perseverance” and “emphasizes the persistent and submissive perseverance and tenaciousness of a self-enclosed group collectively oriented toward specific goals” (EDNT, 172). As you evaluate your life, what are your preoccupations? Your obsessions? What are you constantly driven to think, say, and do? Does it reflect the undivided attention of the early Christians, who by such preoccupation took the gospel to the whole world (Col. 1:23) and turned it upside down (Acts 17:6)? Devoutness to exclusively the things that will be destroyed when Christ returns is a tragic distraction! Let’s boil life down to the irreducible imperatives, “the good part, which shall not be taken away from…” us (Luke 10:42).

 Gideon: When the Deliverer Becomes the Danger

Brent Pollard

Few stories in Scripture trace spiritual decline more vividly than Gideon’s. Here was a man summoned from obscurity by the voice of God Himself. He was fearful, hiding grain from Midianite raiders in a winepress. Yet God called him a “mighty man of valor” before he had drawn a sword (Judges 6.12 ESV). Through divine power—not human strategy—Gideon led three hundred men to scatter an army beyond counting.

He had torn down his father’s altar to Baal. He had cut down the Asherah pole. He had obeyed when obedience was costly.

But the final chapter of his life tells a different story. It is the kind every Christian needs to hear, because its warning is not aimed at the faithless. It is aimed at those who have tasted victory and grown comfortable in its shadow.

The Dangerous Moment After the Battle

When Gideon returned from defeating Midian, Israel greeted him with a stunning proposal:

“Rule over us, you and your son and your grandson also, for you have saved us from the hand of Midian” (Judges 8.22 ESV).

Notice the fatal error buried in the compliment: “You have saved us.” Not God. Gideon.

This temptation is ancient and persistent. Whenever God works through a man, there is always a crowd ready to worship the instrument rather than the Hand that wielded it. Israel looked at the victory and saw a hero. They should have looked at the victory and fallen before God.

To his credit, Gideon refused.

“I will not rule over you, and my son will not rule over you; the LORD will rule over you” (Judges 8.23 ESV).

In that moment, he spoke a profound truth: God does not share His throne. He does not delegate sovereignty to human dynasties. He is King—not merely as a title but as an unalterable reality (1 Samuel 8.7; Isaiah 43.15; 1 Timothy 6.15).

There are no great men of God—only men of a great God. Reverse that order, and the fall has already begun.

A Nation Looking for a King It Already Had

Israel’s request was more than flattery; it was bad theology. They wanted a hereditary monarchy: Gideon, then his son, then his grandson.

But God had already defined their identity:

“You shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19.6 ESV).

Their king was not meant to sit in a palace. Their king spoke from Sinai. He led them through the wilderness as a pillar of cloud and fire (Exodus 13.21) and promised to drive out their enemies if they remained faithful (Exodus 23.20–33; Deuteronomy 7.17–24).

Israel wanted something visible, permanent, and human. God offered something invisible, eternal, and divine. The tragedy of the human heart is that it often prefers the former.

The same impulse appears in every generation. People long for a leader they can see rather than a God they must trust. When the church looks to personalities rather than Christ, it has already taken the first step toward Gideon’s error.

Gold in the Wrong Hands

Although Gideon declined the crown, he did not decline the gold.

He asked each soldier for a gold earring from the Midianite plunder. The request seemed modest, and the soldiers gladly complied. They spread out a garment and tossed in their share.

The total reached seventeen hundred shekels—roughly forty to seventy-five pounds of gold—along with ornaments, pendants, royal garments from Midian’s kings, and camel collars (Judges 8.26).

It was a fortune. And fortunes have a way of bending the soul.

The issue was not the amount but what Gideon did with it. Wealth itself is not condemned in Scripture, but it always tests the heart (1 Timothy 6.9–10; Proverbs 30.8–9; Matthew 6.21).

The real question is never what we possess, but what possesses us.

The Ephod That Became an Idol

Gideon used the gold to make an ephod and placed it in his hometown of Ophrah.

In its proper setting, the ephod was a priestly garment associated with worship and divine inquiry. The high priest wore one described in Exodus 28.6–14, and simpler versions were worn by Samuel (1 Samuel 2.18) and David (2 Samuel 6.14).

But during times of spiritual confusion, the ephod could be used in false worship. In Judges 17–18, Micah’s household shrine included one alongside carved images. Hosea later listed the ephod among the religious symbols Israel would lose in exile (Hosea 3.4).

What Gideon intended is uncertain. Perhaps it was meant as a memorial. Perhaps it was intended as a means of seeking God’s will.

But the result was devastating.

“And all Israel whored after it there, and it became a snare to Gideon and to his family” (Judges 8.27 ESV).

The irony is painful. The man who destroyed Baal’s altar created something that led Israel into spiritual adultery. The destroyer of idols became the maker of a new one.

The danger did not come from outside. It came from within—from the very victory that should have driven him closer to God.

When Good Things Become Ultimate Things

The language of Judges 8.27 is deliberately shocking. Israel “whored after” the ephod. Throughout the Old Testament, idolatry is described not merely as error but as adultery—the betrayal of a covenant relationship (Ezekiel 16.15–34; Jeremiah 3.6–10; Hosea 2.2–5).

God had delivered Israel from oppression and scattered an innumerable army with three hundred men. Yet Israel redirected its devotion toward a golden garment in a small town.

The pattern is ancient and ongoing. God acts. Man receives. Man then worships the gift rather than the Giver.

Israel did this with the bronze serpent Moses made until Hezekiah destroyed it because people burned incense to it (2 Kings 18.4). They trusted in the temple building rather than the God who dwelt there (Jeremiah 7.4).

Any good thing—a tradition, a practice, a religious symbol, even memories of past faithfulness—can become a substitute for the living God. The most dangerous idols are often the most religious-looking ones.

A Private Life That Told the Truth

The closing verses reveal a man whose private life contradicted his public words.

Gideon had many wives and seventy sons. He also kept a concubine in Shechem who bore him a son named Abimelech—“my father is king” (Judges 8.30–31).

Read that name again. Gideon publicly refused the crown, yet he named his son “my father is king.”

His mouth said one thing. His life said another.

Spiritual compromise rarely announces itself. It grows quietly through private choices until the consequences can no longer be hidden. Gideon’s household increasingly resembled that of a ruler rather than a servant.

Scripture repeatedly warns that the heart is deceitful (Jeremiah 17.9). A man may refuse a crown with his lips while building a palace with his life.

What Happened After the Funeral

When Gideon died, the collapse was immediate.

“As soon as Gideon died, the people of Israel turned again and whored after the Baals and made Baal-berith their god” (Judges 8.33–34 ESV).

They forgot the LORD who had delivered them. They also failed to show kindness to Gideon’s family (Judges 8.35). Soon, his son Abimelech would drench Shechem in blood while seizing the power his father had publicly declined (Judges 9).

This is what happens when faith depends on a man rather than God. When the man dies, the faith dies with him.

Israel’s devotion to the Lord lasted exactly as long as Gideon lived. That is not faith. It is borrowed conviction—and borrowed conviction always comes due.

Every generation must choose for itself whether it will serve the Lord (Joshua 24.15; Deuteronomy 6.6–9).

Five Warnings from Gideon’s Decline

Gideon’s early chapters inspire courage. His final chapter demands self-examination.

First, no past victory guarantees future faithfulness. Gideon defeated Midian but could not defeat the pride that followed the battle (1 Corinthians 10.12; Philippians 3.13–14).

Second, leaders must point beyond themselves. When people credit the preacher rather than the Lord, something has gone wrong (John 3.30; 1 Corinthians 3.5–7).

Third, religious traditions can become traps. The ephod itself was not evil, but devotion to it became a snare.

Fourth, private compromise eventually produces public consequences. The hidden life always surfaces (Luke 12.2–3; Numbers 32.23).

Fifth, faith must be personally owned, not merely inherited. Secondhand religion cannot survive the loss of its human source (2 Timothy 1.5; Deuteronomy 4.9).

The Reign That Never Fails

Gideon began as a hesitant servant who trusted God and obeyed His call. Through him, the Lord delivered an entire nation from oppression.

But his story reminds us that the battle for faithfulness does not end with a single victory. It continues every day until we stand before God.

Even those who have torn down altars can build new ones without realizing it.

In the end, Gideon’s greatest words remain his truest legacy:

“The LORD will rule over you” (Judges 8.23 ESV).

Not Gideon. Not any man. The Lord.

And when God truly reigns—over a heart, a home, or a congregation—His people remain secure. Not because they are strong, but because He is.

“The LORD is king forever and ever” (Psalm 10.16 ESV).

That is the only throne that never topples. That is the only reign that never ends.

The Invitation

Carl Pollard

Revelation 3:20, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.”

This verse is one of the most well known invitations in Scripture, but it is often misunderstood. Many assume Jesus is speaking to unbelievers about initial salvation. While the principle certainly applies, the context shows that Jesus is actually speaking to Christians who have grown spiritually indifferent.

Revelation 3:20 is part of Jesus’ message to the church in Laodicea (Revelation 3:14–22). The Laodiceans believed they were spiritually healthy. They said, “I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing” (Revelation 3:17). Yet Jesus exposed their reality they were, “wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked.”

Their problem was lukewarm faith (Revelation 3:16). They were not openly hostile to Christ, but they were not passionately devoted either. They had allowed comfort and self sufficiency to push Jesus to the margins of their lives.

Jesus uses a powerful image, He is standing outside the door knocking. The church belonged to Him, and yet He was outside.

This idea is one of patient persistence. Jesus isn’t breaking the door down. He’s knocking and calling. The responsibility rests on the individual, “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door.” Faith is personal. Each person must respond.

Jesus promises something beautiful, “I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” In the first century, sharing a meal represented fellowship, acceptance, and relationship. Jesus is offering restored intimacy.

The Laodiceans had religion without love. Christ was offering them the very thing they lacked, true communion with Him!

This verse forces an uncomfortable question, Is Jesus really at the center of our lives, or have we pushed Him outside? It’s possible to attend church, know the Bible, and still live spiritually distant from Christ. Like the Laodiceans, we may feel self sufficient while our relationship with Him grows cold.

But the good news is that Jesus still knocks. He calls us back through His Word, through conviction, and through moments that soften our hearts. When we respond, He doesn’t reject us, He restores us.

Christ doesn’t want our attendance or routine. He wants our fellowship! The door only has one handle, and it’s on the inside. The question is simple, Will we open it?

THE EXCLUSIVITY OF JESUS

Sorry, Chase (Part 3)!

Gary Pollard

Last week we looked at the problem of language and its inability to capture the infinite (or even things on much larger scales/broader scopes than we’re used to). Chase Hughes, whose video The ancients decoded reality we’ve been examining, gives valuable insights into the many similarities between ancient cultural parables, mythologies, and symbolism. These similarities certainly do exist, and were very probably the result of each culture witnessing the same events. Since we are Christians — and Christianity is one of the ancient traditions he discusses — I think it’s important to examine some of his conclusions and try to establish the boundary of legitimate speculation on the topic. 

As has already been said, the line must be drawn at the conclusion that all world religions are more-or-less interchangeable. Many of the pillars of these faiths are mutually exclusive, at least in their current forms. Jesus made it clear that he was the only path to the Father, so this precludes worship of any other god(s). However, all humans are made in God’s image, and all witnessed the same displays of his power. Comparative mythology/religion is an extremely useful tool in trying to understand the events of the past — many of which the Bible (and several non-canonical sources)  corroborates, often through symbolic and apocalyptic terminology. 

In the past couple of articles, I’ve made it clear that Chase’s work is otherwise excellent, at least as it relates to this topic (which has been my only exposure to his material). However, because of his well-earned popularity, it is likely that other Christians will or have watched this video (as of today it has 2.8 million views) — and there are many others like it on other similar channels. Because most people don’t have any interest in the actual content of these ancient writings, because he presents his arguments in a very compelling way, because it can be difficult for some people to “spit out the bones,” and because the way many exegete the Bible (with little or no acknowledgment of the symbolism in accounts considered exclusively historical) can present difficulties in justifying physical and literary evidence with the text of scripture, I felt it was important to point out where, in my opinion, his conclusions (where Christianity is concerned) were erroneous. This is not intended to be a “debunk” series as much as a “clarify” series. 

So, to finish out last week’s consideration of the language problem, we’ll look at his concluding remarks. Next week we should be able to get into his main observations. 

[Imagine] standing in front of a sunrise so massive and overwhelming that words feel absolutely stupid to describe it. Now imagine trying to explain that sunrise to somebody who has never seen light before. This is why ancient texts seem contradictory — the problem wasn’t the message, it was the translation. Different cultures, different metaphors, different symbols. It was the same truth filtered through different, and extremely human, limitations. And when you finally zoom out far enough, the differences disappear. The metaphors line up, the symbols overlap, and — in my estimation — the contradictions dissolve. You start to see that these were fragments of maps, and once I noticed that something insane happened. The patterns in these texts started connecting like constellations across all these continents, across millennia, across belief systems that supposedly are against each other. They weren’t opposing each other at all, they were completing each other. And that’s when these five truths revealed themselves (08:25-09:38). 

As with the last two weeks’ observations, this is mostly true! Where we’ll have to disagree is at the alleged disappearance of contradictions and at the complementary nature of supposedly-opposed belief systems. By this logic, anything at a sufficiently low resolution is indistinguishable from anything else. Is it a bird or a plane or a flying superhuman? Those are three very different things — even though operating in the same domain — when viewed from a great distance, but the truth of what that thing is is fixed regardless of observational errors. 

The ancient religions of the world, by and large, observed the same phenomena and came away with slightly different conclusions. It didn’t take long for those conclusions to morph into identity systems, with cults loyal to one god or set of gods becoming hostile toward other cults who followed their gods’ antagonist. In the very oldest stories and mythologies, it seems that much of the basis for these religions was a cosmic drama with heavenly bodies being personified to preserve the story and scope of the event. Nearly all of them identify their chief gods with the planets, the sun, and the moon, and described the way their gods had interacted with earth in the ancient past — nearly always in catastrophic ways. 

So while their observations were originally mostly true, they degraded over time into the actual worship of these stars, planets, and “hosts of heaven”. The acts of worship, as we’ve already said, were often extremely dysfunctional. Human (even infant!) sacrifice, ritualized prostitution, and other harmful practices were not-uncommon expressions of devotion when the highest power was perceived to be no greater than some created thing in the heavens. Christianity fundamentally differed from its contemporaries and predecessors in that it called for devotion to the Creator rather than to any aspect of his creation. 

Because of their close cultural and linguistic ties (and probably the shared trauma of living through “days of the Lord”), even the Jews often had difficulty avoiding the worship of the “queen of heaven” (Venus) and other personified heavenly bodies worshipped by their neighbors. But when they actually followed the divine law they were given, they were wholly incompatible with neighboring cultures. All people originally worshipped the one true God (Gen 4.26), which is likely why we see so many similarities between the ancient religious systems. There is only one Truth, and deviations from it (because of human nature) are inevitable. Those who still wanted to align their aims and behavior with Truth would either leave the corrupted system or reform it. Either way, there are divisions — sometimes for good reason. 

So while it is certainly true that most perceived contradictions are the result of interpretation or translation errors, it is not true that those difference dissolve entirely at a certain resolution. Those differences exist precisely because of a deviation from truth. Even though much of the content of these texts aligns with the teachings of scripture, much is also totally incompatible. As we’ll see when we get to his main observations (the five truths), the rest of the world sometimes missed the point of the human experience. This life is a trial run! Compared to immortality, 100 years is a microsecond. The point is to emulate the Creator to the best of our ability and to love others selflessly. The enlightenment and realization of Truth that the rest of the world focused on is not something we can achieve in this body. We all want the same thing, but the only way to get it — and the most fundamental difference between the religions — is through Jesus. 

The Power Of A Name

Dale Pollard

An angel appeared to Gideon while he was threshing wheat in winepress to hide from the Midianites, calling him a “mighty warrior” (Judges 6:12).

Gideon initially doubted his ability, noting how his clan was the weakest in Manasseh and he was the least in his family.

God instructed Gideon to reduce his army from 32,000 to only 300 men to ensure the glory was given to God, not human strength.

So, using only trumpets, jars, and torches, Gideon’s small force caused the Midianite army to panic and flee.

To this day he’s remembered as the judge who brought 40 years of peace to Israel, overcoming his own fear to act with God’s strength. 

Rachel was dying during childbirth on the way to Ephrath (A.K.A. Bethlehem).

Before she dies, she names her son Ben-oni, which means “son of my sorrow” or “son of my pain.” A boy would struggle in many ways if he was forced to grow with a name that marked him as a bringer of pain and served as a constant reminder of grief.

Thankfully, his father, Jacob, changes his name to Benjamin; meaning “son of my right hand.” A name change that no doubt shaped his life growing up for the better.

It’s interesting how names or nicknames can shape our identities from a young age. When children are trying to find out who they are or what their place is in the world, they often internalize observations about themselves given by those they’re closest to. 

God has allowed us to wear the Name of Christ (Romans 13.14)– an unbelievable honor. Anybody carrying His name has a future brighter than the rest. 

When Good Things Become God

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolute Truth”

Gary Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1 Holy War, Thy Art is Murder

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

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

The Sin Of Self-Reliance

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To War With The Waves

Dale Pollard

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

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

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

Then he gives a command— attack! 

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

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

The Bible tells us who has sovereignty over the waters:

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

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

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

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

The Sin No One Talks About

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Clairvoyant Text

Gary Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3  I’m not biased at all. 

THE MOUNTAIN OF MYSTERY

Dale Pollard

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

In Galatians 4:25, Paul states:

“Mount Sinai is in Arabia.”

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

• Northwest Saudi Arabia

• The land of Midian

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

There’s more! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This mountain seems to have it all, including: 

• A darkened summit

• Nearby ancient stone structures

• Rock art that appears to depict cows 

• Large open plains suitable for a massive encampment

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

Part Two: The Fortress and the River – God Our Satisfaction

Brent Pollard

In our earlier reflection on Psalm 46, we faced a challenging truth: the mountains will quiver, the oceans will roar, and the earth’s very foundations will shake. Nonetheless, amid this universal turmoil, God stays our steadfast refuge. We learned that He comes close during storms rather than in moments of peace, and that what we need most isn’t answers but His presence.

But God provides more than just survival; He not only shelters us from the storm but also sustains us through it. The psalm’s imagery transitions from chaotic turbulence to peaceful abundance, highlighting a deep truth about God’s presence with His people.

The River That Satisfies: God’s Presence as Our True Resource

“There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High. God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved.”

The imagery transitions from chaos to serenity, moving from turbulent seas to a peaceful river. This creates a beautiful paradox in the psalm because Jerusalem, unlike Babylon or Egypt, lacked a natural river. Water was scarce, precious, and meticulously collected from cisterns and springs. In Hezekiah’s time, an ingenious tunnel channeled water from the Gihon Spring into the city, serving as a crucial lifeline during the siege.

Yet the psalmist mentions a river that brings joy to the city. It’s not just safe—it’s joyful. Not just protected—but filled with happiness. This is more than simple water. It represents God’s life-giving presence.

As suggested, God is most glorified in us when we find our greatest satisfaction in Him. The river in Psalm 46 symbolizes delight, not utility. Though enemy nations rage like floodwaters threatening to overwhelm, God resides among His people as a calm, sustaining stream of peace. He is both our source of satisfaction and our security.

Jesus later identified Himself as the source of this river: “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water” (John 7.37-38). The promise isn’t that life will be trouble-free, but that God offers sustenance beyond circumstances during difficult times.

This assurance is highly practical. God’s presence isn’t just an abstract theological idea; it changes how we approach Monday mornings. Knowing God is with us turns panic into peace. Recognizing that He is our source, we cease striving to create our own limited water sources, like cisterns that contain no water (Jeremiah 2.13).

However, Jerusalem’s security was never reliant on its religious infrastructure. The temple alone did not guarantee safety for a rebellious people. The city’s walls offered no protection if hearts were distant from God. It was repentance and prayer, not military tactics, that saved Jerusalem from Assyria’s formidable army. Hezekiah presented Sennacherib’s threatening letter before the Lord and called for deliverance, emphasizing God’s glory over Israel’s safety (2 Kings 19.14-19).

And God responded. At dawn, 185,000 Assyrian soldiers were dead, slain by the Lord’s angel. The enemy retreated without a single arrow being fired from Jerusalem’s defenses. God simply declared, and kingdoms fell.

The Call to Stillness: Surrender as the Path to Strength

“Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

This passage is among Scripture’s most quoted—and often misunderstood—verses. We tend to see it as a calming meditation or a spiritual breath of relief. However, in its original context, it carries a much more challenging message.

The Hebrew phrase literally translates to: “Let go. Cease striving. Stop.” It serves as a divine directive to relinquish our need for control, abandon our frantic attempts to manage outcomes, and surrender the illusion of self-sufficiency.

Modern Christianity often portrays God as a helpful guide for our personal plans. We prefer His blessing on our initiatives instead of surrendering to His greater purposes. We tend to use God rather than worship Him. However, Psalm 46 dispels this arrogance. God will be exalted, regardless of our involvement. The real question is whether we will align with His divine plan or waste our energy resisting it.

“Be still” does not mean passive resignation. Instead, it signifies active trust—opting for dependence rather than independence, faith rather than fear, worship over worry. For fallen humanity, this is the hardest act because it demands that we admit we are not God.

Consider Hezekiah’s prayer again: “Now therefore, O Lord our God, save us from his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that You are the Lord God, even You only” (2 Kings 19.19, KJV). Notice the ultimate concern—not Israel’s comfort, but God’s glory. Not merely deliverance, but a demonstration of divine supremacy.

Remember that humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less. Being still means shifting our focus from our troubles to God’s nature, from our frailty to His strength, and from our fears to His unwavering faithfulness.

The psalm concludes by calling God “the God of Jacob,” which should fill us with great hope. Jacob was a cunning and manipulative man, often trying to control events through his own cleverness. Despite this, God stayed faithful to him, changed him, and made him a patriarch. We often act similarly—rushing ahead of God’s timing, trying to grasp what to trust, and strategizing instead of surrendering.

And yet—wonder of wonders—God remains our refuge.

Living in the Fortress

Psalm 46 does not guarantee that mountains won’t shake in our lives if we have enough faith. Instead, it reassures us that God stays unshaken when those shakes happen—and they will. He allows us to face difficult situations, not to harm us, but to show Himself more clearly and to strengthen our faith.

The world takes pride in its chariots, horses, stock portfolios, military strength, technological achievements, and political influence. However, Scripture teaches us that “some trust in chariots, and some in horses: but we will remember the name of the Lord our God” (Psalm 20.7). Ultimately, there will be a day when “the Lord alone shall be exalted” (Isaiah 2.11).

Until then, our lives exist between the “already” and the “not yet.” We feel God’s presence as both a fortress and a river—offering protection in times of danger and fulfillment in seasons of dryness. We recognize His strength even as we admit our weakness. Peace comes not from having control over circumstances but from knowing Who is truly in control.

When the earth shakes…  

When nations rage… 

When fear rises within us…

God remains our refuge.  

God remains our strength.  

God remains Immanuel—with us.

And because He is, we can—we must—be still.

In that stillness, we find what frantic activity can never achieve: the actual value of knowing God personally. It’s not just about learning about Him but experiencing Him intimately through dependence, feeling secure in His presence, and delighting in His flowing grace, even during the driest seasons of our lives.

This is not escapism; it is the most practical wisdom for humans. We were created for God, and our hearts stay restless until they find rest in Him.

The fortress remains, the river continues to flow, and God beckons us to come in.

Freedom From Mortality

Gary Pollard

I recently read something very powerful and felt it was worth sharing. It is a fitting reminder that materialism and a pursuit of physical wealth do our soul no favors — in fact, they sabotage our pursuit of God’s wisdom. It further illustrates God’s statement that the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil (1 Tim. 6:10). 

An obligatory disclaimer: I don’t agree with everything this author wrote. This should not be seen as an across-the-board endorsement of his writings on spiritual topics, though his works on Egyptian history are invaluable. But we’ve likely all heard quotations in the pulpit that were taken from Einstein, Reagan, Eisenhower, and other secular figures — consider this a quotation in the same spirit. 

“May the people of our time, who by reason of the alleged comforts derived from their scientific technology are falling more and more deeply into matter, come to understand that if the end of bodily life is death, the end of what constitutes the body’s life is to survive and liberate itself from what is mortal. The means of attaining this end is no more difficult than it is to live. Yet this is precisely what few people know how to do. Most are solely concerned with distracting themselves, passing the time that separates them from the hour of death they so greatly fear. 

To live is not to work. If we are condemned to work in order to maintain our life, this sentence constitutes the suffering through which we must acquire the intelligence-of-the-heart that is, in itself, our life’s spiritual aim. To base existence on work is as unwise as to found society on economic principles. Love of the task makes work joyful, and a good economic order is a secondary result. Mechanicalness, the emanation of a warped consciousness, as well as valueless money, these have been the cause and means of action for ambitious leaders to drag our world into the depths of misery. Out of this comes a reaction which will betray the expectations of these misguiding masters. The divine spark ever slumbers within man, and when animated by a new breath is irresistible.” 

— R. A. S. de Lubicz (1985)

The Case For Life

Carl Pollard

Every society is ultimately judged by how it treats its most vulnerable. History bears this out. Civilizations are not remembered for their technology or wealth alone, but for whether they defended human dignity or sacrificed it for convenience. Few issues reveal this moral fault line more clearly than abortion.

At its core, abortion isnt a political or medical issue. It is a moral question, a scientific reality, and a spiritual matter that forces us to ask a simple but uncomfortable question: What is the value of human life?

Scripture is crystal clear about the source and worth of human life. Life is not accidental, disposable, or owned by society. It is given by God and bears His image.

Genesis 1:27, “So God created man in his own image.” This is not a status earned by size, ability, or independence. It is a condition of being human. From conception forward, human life carries divine worth.

Psalm 139:13–16 describes God’s involvement in the womb: “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.” The psalmist does not speak of a future person, but of a present one known by God before birth.

Jeremiah 1:5 reinforces this truth: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you.” God’s relationship with human beings begins prior to birth, not after.

Throughout Scripture, God consistently condemns the shedding of innocent blood (Proverbs 6:16–17). No category of people is more innocent or defenseless than the unborn.

Science doesn’t argue against life in the womb. In fact, modern embryology overwhelmingly affirms it.

At conception, a distinct, living human organism comes into existence. This new being has its own DNA, separate from the mother and father, determining sex, eye color, and genetic identity.

By three weeks, the heart is beating. By six weeks, measurable brain activity is present. By eight weeks, all major organs have begun to form. By ten weeks, the unborn child can respond to stimuli. These are not philosophical claims. They are biological facts taught in medical textbooks.

The question, then, isn’t when life begins. Science has answered that. The real question is whether we believe some lives are more worthy of protection than others.

Since the legalization of abortion in the United States, tens of millions of unborn children have lost their lives. Globally, abortion accounts for tens of millions of deaths every year, making it one of the leading causes of death worldwide.

Statistics also reveal another uncomfortable truth. Abortion does not solve social problems. It masks them. Poverty, lack of support, abusive relationships, and fear are not cured by ending a life. They are exploited to justify it.

Women are often told abortion is empowerment, yet many report long-term emotional and psychological distress afterward. Depression, guilt, and regret are not uncommon, even if rarely discussed publicly. Ending a life doesn’t heal anything. It compounds it.

If human rights mean anything, they must apply to all humans. If worth depends on size, location, dependency, or wantedness, then no one’s rights are secure. A newborn is smaller than a toddler. A disabled person may be dependent on others. An elderly person may be unwanted. Yet we recognize their right to live.

To argue that the unborn do not deserve protection because they cannot speak or survive independently is to adopt a standard that would justify horrific injustice elsewhere.

The womb should be the safest place on earth. Instead, it has become the most dangerous.

Human life has value not because of what it can do, but because of what it is. A child is not valuable because they are planned, healthy, or convenient. They are valuable because they are human.

This is the foundation of every just society. When life becomes conditional, morality becomes negotiable.

God’s design has always been clear. Life is sacred. Children are a blessing, not a burden. And justice demands protection for those who cannot protect themselves.

Abolishing abortion isn’t about controlling women. It is about refusing to dehumanize children. It is about building a culture that responds to crisis with compassion, not death, and support, not silence.

The answer to abortion is not apathy or anger, but truth and courage. Truth that life begins at conception. Courage to defend it even when it is inconvenient.

The measure of our humanity is not found in our slogans, but in our willingness to stand for life when it costs us something.

If life is truly sacred, then it must be protected. All of it. Especially the smallest among us.

Common Arguments Used To Defend Abortion: 

1. “My body, my choice.”

Pregnancy involves two bodies. The unborn child has a separate DNA, blood type, and biological identity. Bodily autonomy does not include the right to intentionally kill another innocent human being. Society already limits “choice” when it harms others.

2. “The fetus isn’t a person.”

Science confirms the unborn is a living human organism from conception. Personhood based on development, location, or ability is arbitrary and dangerous. If personhood is granted by others, human rights are no longer inherent.

3. “Life begins at birth.”

Birth changes location, not nature. A baby minutes before birth is biologically identical to a baby minutes after birth. No scientific event at birth creates humanity.

4. “What about rape and incest?”

Rape is a horrific crime, but abortion punishes an innocent child for the sin of another. Justice does not permit killing one innocent person to ease the suffering caused by another’s crime.

5. “The baby won’t survive or has severe disabilities.”

Human value does not depend on health, lifespan, or ability. To argue otherwise revives the logic used to justify eugenics and discrimination against the disabled. Compassion does not require killing.

6. “Women will die if abortion is illegal.”

Modern medicine can treat life-threatening complications without intentionally killing the child. Direct abortion is never medically necessary to save a mother’s life. Treating pathology is not the same as ending a life.

7. “Abortion is healthcare.”

Healthcare aims to heal, not intentionally kill a patient. Abortion ends the life of a distinct human being and therefore contradicts the fundamental definition of medical care.

8. “The child is just a clump of cells.”

Every human is a clump of cells. The question is not cellular composition but organism identity. From conception, the unborn is a complete, developing human organism.

9. “The child isn’t viable yet.”

Viability depends on technology, geography, and age. Human rights cannot depend on hospital access or medical advancement. Dependency does not negate humanity.

10. “Abortion reduces poverty and suffering.”

Killing the poor does not solve poverty. Ending life is not a moral solution to social failure. True justice addresses suffering without destroying the sufferer.

11. “Women will still get abortions anyway.”

The same argument could be used to legalize any crime. Laws exist to restrain evil, protect the innocent, and shape moral understanding. Justice does not yield to lawlessness.

12. “The Bible doesn’t explicitly mention abortion.”

The Bible condemns the shedding of innocent blood, affirms God’s work in the womb, and recognizes unborn children as known by God. Moral truths are often established by principle, not explicit wording.

13. “Abortion should be rare, but legal.”

If abortion is wrong, it should not be legal. If it is legal, society teaches it is morally acceptable. There is no moral category for “justified injustice.”

14. “Criminalizing abortion punishes women.”

Abolition seeks equal justice, not cruelty. Law recognizes moral agency while also addressing coercion and exploitation. Exempting one group from accountability denies the humanity of the victim.

15. “This is a religious belief, not law.”

Opposition to killing innocent humans is a moral principle shared across cultures and legal systems. Laws already reflect moral judgments about life, harm, and justice. Neutrality is a myth.

Loving The Elders

Dale Pollard

Though Scripture doesn’t say, you can be sure
David’s sheep had no idea how lucky they were to have a
shepherd like him. They were just sheep after all. How could
they fully appreciate the extent that David went to in order to
keep them safe? Before this begins to sound ridiculous, let’s
remember that at least two of David’s sheep were carried off
in the jaws of a lion and a bear. When the terrified bleating
of an unfortunate sheep is heard by the shepherd, he sprints
after the wild animal knowing all the while — it’s just a sheep.
It’s just one sheep! Nevertheless, David strikes the predator
and saves the sheep (1 Sam. 17:34-35).

What made David a good shepherd? It certainly
wasn’t his stature. The average male of his day stood around
five feet tall. He was also the youngest of his family, and often
unappreciated (1 Sam. 16:11; 17:29, 33). It was David’s heart,
not his height, that made him exceptional. He was a natural
shepherd of sheep, and of people.

David is sent by his father, Jesse, to deliver bread for
his brothers, who are among Saul’s army. When he arrives on
scene, everyone is afraid and unwilling to take a stand against
the arrogant Goliath. But before the giant warrior from Gath
meets the shepherd boy from Bethlehem, a few more giants
will be faced.

The first giant was the giant of degradation.
David’s own brother, Eliab, would greet him with
two belittling questions that would make a lesser man feel
sheepish, but not this shepherd. Eliab asks, “why have you
come down here?” and, “who is watching the few sheep?”
David’s brother doesn’t think he belongs among warriors and
that he is only capable of handling a small number of simple
animals.

The second giant was that of accusation.
In the same breath, Eliab would accuse and insult
David three different times. He claims, “I know how
conceited you are and how wicked your heart is. You’ve only
come to watch the battle.” How wrong he was and how dare
he insult such a godly man! It’s interesting to note that David
had an answer to each of these questions and accusations, but
never attempts to defend himself. His father sent him, that’s
why he was there. He was there to deliver nourishment for
this dear brother who had, no doubt, worked up an appetite
doing absolutely nothing. No retaliation or snarky remark
would escape from the shepherd’s mouth because nothing like
that was in his heart (Matt. 12.34).

The third giant David would conquer would be the towering
giant of indignity. He didn’t shame his brother and he didn’t let his
brother’s shaming keep him from shining.

Shepherds put up with a lot, don’t they? Good
shepherds really put up with a lot. Faithful God-fearing elders
within the Lord’s church all over the world are faced with
giants more often than they should be. Sometimes, the giants
they face are their own sheep. How easy it is to make
confident accusations against them and to question their
intentions, hearts, and capabilities. That unpaid servant of
God is more often than not the first one to come running
when the bleating of a wayward member is heard. When we
find ourselves in clutches of our various trials, they attempt to
pry us out. At times they earnestly pray over and take on
burdens that aren’t theirs to carry. Faithful elders will find
themselves in a position in which they could make the sheep
feel ashamed, but choose to save the feelings of others
because that’s what a good shepherd does. It’s not their
height, it’s their heart. The sheep need to love their
shepherds because the shepherds love their sheep.

Part One: The Fortress and the River – God Our Refuge

Brent Pollard

Throughout history, some moments feel like the barrier between heaven and earth is unusually thin. These instances cause the eternal to pierce through the temporary so powerfully that even centuries later, their impact is still felt. Psalm 46 is one such moment—born not from theological musings but from a time of national crisis. Martin Luther heard its profound message and responded with “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” Long before the Reformation hymns echoed through European cathedrals, this psalm carried a people through their fear as Assyrian campfires threatened their city walls.

It’s important to remember that Scripture isn’t just a compilation of spiritual rules — it documents God’s interaction with real people in genuine desperation. The message God shared with ancient Jerusalem remains true today: our most profound human need isn’t for solutions, but for His presence.

When Mountains Crumble: The Problem of Cosmic Insecurity

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea.”

Note that the psalm does not say, “We should not fear” or “We ought not fear.” Instead, it confidently states: “We will not fear.” This is not just hope; it’s a firm belief rooted in understanding who God is.

The psalmist depicts a scene of complete chaos. Mountains, symbols of stability, melt away like sandcastles at the tide. The seas angrily roar and foam. The very foundations of creation tremble. These vivid images are not just poetic devices; they symbolize natural disasters and political turmoil. In biblical symbolism, raging waters frequently represent hostile nations in chaos (Daniel 7.2-3; Revelation 17.15).

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: our world was never meant to be our final refuge. Because our desires can’t be fully satisfied here, it suggests we were created for another world. We long for stability in a creation that is inherently unstable. We pursue security in systems designed to dissolve. In His mercy, God permits the mountains to shake, guiding us to discover what cannot be shaken.

God draws near to us during storms rather than calm moments. Israel frequently learned this the hard way: in times of peace, they forgot the Lord and turned to idols. When trouble arose, they sought Egyptian alliances instead of divine assistance (Isaiah 30.1-2). They sought rescue and deliverance without a relationship or devotion.

But here is the marvel: God is depicted as an ever-present help—never hesitant, never distant, nor waiting for us to do enough religious acts to gain His notice. He is already present—our refuge, fortress, and shield. The real question is never His availability but our readiness to trust.

We have seen that God engages with us during storms rather than waiting for calm. We’ve recognized that our world was never intended as our ultimate refuge, and that the upheaval of mountains has a compassionate purpose—guiding us toward eternal stability. However, understanding that God is our refuge prompts another question: what does His presence truly offer? Is He only a fortress shielding us from harm, or does He provide something more?

The psalmist’s answer shifts us from merely surviving to finding satisfaction, from simple protection to deep joy. In our next reflection, we’ll see that God’s presence isn’t just about safety—it’s about our greatest delight.