Tag: Bible

“Bible Marking With Kathy Pollard”

Exciting new page! Kathy walks through the first of many Bible-marking topics. The page also has a quick “How To” video. New content every week. Please like and subscribe.

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Ancient Phenomenon Of Grip Lock In Battle

Throughout history, soldiers have been remembered for their courage and skill — but sometimes, a warrior stands out for their extreme endurance. In high stress situations, combatants have been known to grip their weapon so tightly that their fingers can’t release them— even after the danger is gone.

Dale Pollard

Throughout history, soldiers have been remembered for their courage and skill — but sometimes, a warrior stands out for their extreme endurance. In high stress situations, combatants have been known to grip their weapon so tightly that their fingers can’t release them— even after the danger is gone. This phenomenon is known as “grip lock” (or, in death, cadaveric spasm) and it appears in sources from the Biblical record to various other battle chronicles.

The Biblical Case of Eleazar 

One of the earliest recorded examples comes from 2 Samuel 23:9–10 (10th century BC). Eleazar, one of David’s “mighty men,” fought the Philistines long after the rest of the army had retreated. His effort was so great that “his hand clung to the sword” after the battle — an epic but physiologically accurate description of “sustained tetanic muscle contraction” from hours of exertion and an extreme adrenaline overload.

More Military Accounts 

Battle of Marathon (490 BC) – Herodotus records Athenian hoplites whose hands were “welded” to their spear shafts after the fight.

Battle of Cannae (216 BC) – Polybius describes Roman infantry unable to drop their shields or swords, even in retreat, with some death grips preserved in fallen soldiers.

Boudicca’s Revolt (AD 60–61) – Tacitus notes Briton warriors locked to their chariot rails or spears, requiring force to release them.

Battle of Stiklestad (AD 1030) – Norse sagas speak of hands “frozen to the sword like ice to iron.”

Physiology 

Modern science explains grip lock as a combination of:

Adrenaline surge – The sympathetic nervous system floods the body with epinephrine and norepinephrine, boosting muscle contraction power.

Full recruitment of fast-twitch fibers – Grip muscles in the forearm contract at maximal force, overriding fine motor control.

Loss of inhibitory signals – The brain suppresses “release” commands in favor of survival-driven holding or pulling actions.

Muscle fatigue and tetany – After prolonged strain, the muscles seize in a sustained contraction, sometimes lasting minutes or hours.

Eleazar’s hand that refused to let go eliminates any chasm between a myth and medical reality. The Bible is accurate down to the finest details and it teaches us more than just history; it shows us the future (Rev. 22, 1 Thess. 4.16-18, Matt. 24.42-44).

“…..but Eleazar stood his ground and struck down the Philistines till his hand grew tired and froze to the sword. The LORD brought about a great victory that day. The troops returned to Eleazar, but only to strip the dead”

I Samuel 23:10

“You’ve Got Mail”

I began preaching full-time in 1992 in a small west Alabama town near the Mississippi border. It was one year before Tim Berners-Lee released the code that became the world wide web, allowing images, video, and audio to be transmitted from servers to computers using existing phone lines. This was more commonly called “dial up.”

Neal Pollard

I began preaching full-time in 1992 in a small west Alabama town near the Mississippi border. It was one year before Tim Berners-Lee released the code that became the world wide web, allowing images, video, and audio to be transmitted from servers to computers using existing phone lines. This was more commonly called “dial up.” For the first three years of my preaching, I typed up Bible classes and sermons (if I didn’t hand write them) on a Brother word processor (it was a typewriter/keyboard attached to a computer monitor). 

Let’s just say that the past 30 years have brought a lot of change in the world of technology. During the ’90s and ’00s, email was king and texting was a complicated, time-consuming, and less desirable alternative. In those days, AOL was the emperor of email. Using a modem (Google it), your computer would connect through the phone and AOL would greet you with, “You’ve got mail” (if you had email). A 1990s movie by that title will give more context to what it was like.

Did you know that dial up internet access is still available? About 160,000 households in America still use it. But on September 30, it will cease. A critical chapter of internet history will be relegated to the museum of technology’s past, like the rotary phone (Google that, too).

I appreciate a few ways this illustrates the work of the church today. First, some changes are desirable and necessary. We can embrace new ways of doing things God preserved in Scripture (Matt. 9:17). As our elders are fond of saying, “We will think outside the box, but inside the Book.” Most of us embraced fiber-optics and satellite, then found dial-up tedious and time-consuming. Old truths can wear new clothes, so long as the truths are not altered (cf. Rev. 22:18-19). See Power Point, newly-written, Scriptural songs and hymns, live-streaming, etc.

Second, while what man creates, invents, and innovates is ever-changing, God’s Word is all-sufficient, timeless, and essential (2 Tim. 3:16-17; Matt. 24:35). No discovery will make it obsolete or irrelevant. It shall stand forever, a rock that cannot be broken or weathered by time or trends (John 10:35). See women’s role (1 Tim. 2:11-15), baptism’s role in salvation (Matt. 28:18-20), the nature of marriage (Eph. 5:31), marriage, divorce, and remarriage (Matt. 19:4-9), etc. 

Third, we should tenaciously defend and fight for truth (Jude 3), but we should take a different tack with tradition. We certainly should not elevate it to be on a par with truth. We must not put it above the truth (Mark 7:6-9). We should not strain relationships and fellowship over matters not “tied down” in Scripture (Romans 14). See Bible translations, modest, but less formal, worship attire, order of worship, etc. 

160,000 households are clinging to dial up until the last possible minute, but then it will be gone. Let’s avoid that spirit when it comes to God’s Word and His work. Where change does not violate God’s will, let us hold it as a matter of indifference. Where the change does violence to it, may we be found nowhere near it! 

Hosea’s One Bride–and the One Messiah

But who is this woman? Is she the same Gomer whom Hosea married in chapter 1, or does she represent a second bride, perhaps symbolizing Judah alongside Israel in some grand drama of two sisters? Here stands one of those interpretive crossroads where the very trajectory of revelation hangs in the balance.

Brent Pollard

In the ancient landscape of Scripture, few passages arrest the soul quite like Hosea 3, where God commands His prophet: “Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the Lord loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins.” (Hosea 3.1). Here Hosea purchases her—this mysterious woman—“for fifteen shekels of silver and a homer and a lethech of barley,” then withholds marital relations for “many days” (Hosea 3.2-3).

But who is this woman? Is she the same Gomer whom Hosea married in chapter 1, or does she represent a second bride, perhaps symbolizing Judah alongside Israel in some grand drama of two sisters? Here stands one of those interpretive crossroads where the very trajectory of revelation hangs in the balance.

Two paths stretch before the careful reader. A minority of conservative scholars sees chapter 3 as a fresh symbolic act with another adulteress, sometimes linked to Judah through the “two sisters” motif found elsewhere in prophetic literature. Yet the majority view—held by the great cloud of classic conservative commentators—perceives one continuous drama with one wife, one covenant, one story of love’s persistence through the darkest valleys of unfaithfulness.

This latter reading, I would argue, best preserves the magnificent Messianic arc that governs the whole of Hosea 1-3, an arc as vast and purposeful as the eucatastrophe that crowns the most remarkable tales ever told.

The Divine Command and Its Shocking Grace

Chapter 1 opens with words that still have power to startle the modern heart: “Go, take to yourself a wife of whoredom and have children of whoredom, for the land commits great whoredom by forsaking the Lord” (1:2). What kind of God would command such a thing? Only one whose love burns with such intensity that He will use even the prophet’s agony to mirror His own heart’s breaking.

Hosea obeys—for prophets know something of the weight of divine calling—and marries Gomer. Their children become living sermons, their names carving judgment into the very air that Israel breathes. Jezreel speaks of scattering that follows political bloodshed; Lo-Ruhamah means “No Mercy,” signaling heaven’s withdrawal of compassion; Lo-Ammi—“Not My People”—depicts the ultimate horror: covenant rupture, the tearing of that sacred bond that once made them the apple of God’s eye (1.4-9).

The effect is deliberately devastating. This departure is no mere moral slip, no gentle wandering from the path. Israel’s sin bears the face of spiritual adultery against the very God who chose her, loved her, called her from Egypt, and made her His own.

The Promise That Changes Everything

Yet—oh, what power lies in that simple word!—judgment is not God’s final word. Immediately after the “Not My People” sentence, Hosea hears a promise of breathtaking scope: “Yet the number of the children of Israel shall be like the sand of the sea, which cannot be measured or numbered. And in the place where it was said to them, “You are not my people,” it shall be said to them, “Children of the living God.” And the children of Judah and the children of Israel shall be gathered together, and they shall appoint for themselves one head.” (1.10-11).

Here stands the North Star by which we must navigate all that follows. The story moves inexorably toward reunion under a single Davidic ruler—toward the Messiah. This reconciliation is not merely restoration but transformation, not simply healing but resurrection unto new life.

When Love Becomes a Lawsuit, Then Wedding Song

Chapter 2 unfolds like a covenant lawsuit in the courts of eternity. The Judge indicts His faithless spouse, exposes her idols and ill-placed alliances, announces discipline that will strip away the very gifts she has misused for evil purposes (2.2-13). Justice must speak its harsh truth before mercy can whisper its tender promises.

But then the tone pivots from court to courtship. “Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her.” (2.14). The wilderness, that place of testing and purging, becomes a wedding aisle where love writes its most beautiful poetry.

Hear how the Bridegroom’s voice grows tender: “And I will betroth you to me forever. I will betroth you to me in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love and in mercy. I will betroth you to me in faithfulness. And you shall know the Lord.” (2.19-20).

This promise is a covenant renewal of the most glorious kind—not by human reform or religious effort, but by pure divine initiative. The righteousness will be His gift, the faithfulness His accomplishment, the steadfast love His very nature poured out upon the undeserving.

The Purchase Price of Love

Chapter 3 returns us to the sign-act, but now we see it through the lens of promise. God commands Hosea to “love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the Lord loves the children of Israel” (3.1). He buys her—this woman whom love will not release—and then imposes a season of chaste separation: “You must dwell as mine for many days. You shall not play the whore, or belong to another man; so will I also be to you.” (3.3).

On the majority reading, this is Gomer once more—the same woman, the same covenant, the same costly love. The symbolism thunders with gospel truth: the bride belongs to Hosea by right of covenant, yet he pays a price to reclaim her from slavery. She dwells under his protection, yet marital intimacy waits for the appointed time. It is a perfect picture of God’s people under discipline—kept and preserved by unshakeable love, yet awaiting the full warmth of restored fellowship.

Why prefer the “one wife” interpretation over “two”? Textually, the prophecy promises not two restored marriages, but one united people under “one head” (1.11). Thematically, a single spouse clarifies the gospel shape of this ancient drama: one relationship broken by sin, one redemption purchased by love, one reunion consummated by grace. To split the sign into separate unions risks obscuring that clean line running from Israel’s infidelity to the Messiah’s unifying reign.

The Long Wait and the Coming King

Hosea himself interprets the sign with words both sobering and hopeful: “For the children of Israel shall dwell many days without king or prince, without sacrifice or pillar, without ephod or household gods” (3:4). A prolonged season follows—kingless, templeless, suspended between judgment and restoration. It is discipline, but discipline shot through with promise.

For afterward, the prophet declares, “the children of Israel shall return and seek the Lord their God, and David their king, and they shall come in fear to the Lord and to his goodness in the latter days.” (3.5). “David” here is no mere historical echo but the promised Son of David, the Root and Offspring of Jesse’s line, the King whose kingdom shall have no end.

In the New Testament’s brilliant light, that restoration dawns in Jesus Christ, who gathers the scattered, “broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility” and creates “in himself one new man in place of the two” (Ephesians 2.14-15). The apostles see clearly how Hosea’s reversal—“Those who were not my people I will call ‘my people,’ and her who was not beloved I will call ‘beloved.’” (Romans 9.25) applies to all who are called into Christ, whether Jew or Gentile. As Peter puts it with stunning directness: “Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.” (1 Peter 2.10).

The bride is being made ready for the marriage supper of the Lamb (2 Corinthians 11.2; Revelation 19.7-9).

Gospel Theater in an Ancient Home

Hosea’s household, then, becomes gospel theater of the most profound sort: covenant love initiates the drama, sin wounds the heart of it, grace pursues through every shadow, redemption pays the necessary price, sanctified waiting refines the beloved, and Messianic reunion brings the story to its glorious close.

The “same woman” reading allows us to feel this story as Scripture intends—a single, unbroken through-line running from rupture to redemption, from betrayal to betrothal, under one Head who is Christ Jesus our Lord. In His nail-scarred hands, every broken covenant finds healing, every faithless heart discovers mercy, and every wayward bride learns the deep, costly joy of being loved with an everlasting love.

This is the gospel that Hosea’s pain purchased for our instruction, the good news that his obedience spelled out in living letters. One bride, one Bridegroom, one story of love that will not let us go—no matter how far we wander, no matter how deep we fall. For such is the love of the God who calls things that are not as though they were, and who makes His enemies into His beloved.

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Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Origen’s Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book 1, Ch. 5.5)

Gary Pollard

The prophet Isaiah tells us about another enemy of God. He says: “How you have fallen from heaven, O light-bearer, morning star! You once rose like the dawn, but now you are crushed to the ground—you who attacked all nations. You said in your heart, ‘I will climb to heaven. I will set my throne above the stars of God. I will sit on the highest mountain in the far north. I will rise above the clouds. I will be like the Most High.’ But now you will be brought down to the world below, to the very depths of the earth. 

Those who see you will stare in shock and say, ‘Is this the one who shook the earth, who made kings tremble, who turned the world into a wasteland, who destroyed cities, and never freed his prisoners? All the kings of the nations rest in honor in their own graves, but you will be thrown away among the dead on the mountains—cursed and pierced by the sword—down to the world below.

Like a blood-stained robe that cannot be made clean, you will never be clean again. You destroyed my land and killed my people. You will never last, evil seed. Prepare your sons for death because of their father’s sins, so they will not rise to take the earth or fill it with war. I will rise against them, says the Lord of hosts. I will erase their name, their survivors, and their children.’”

From these words it is clear that the morning star—once a bringer of light—fell from heaven. If, as some think, he was always a creature of darkness, how could Scripture call him “light-bearer” or “morning star”? Even Jesus said about the devil, “I saw Satan fall from heaven like lightning,” showing that at one time he was light. Jesus also compared His own return to lightning: “As the lightning flashes from one end of the sky to the other, so will the coming of the Son of Man be.” By comparing Satan’s fall to lightning, Jesus showed that Satan once lived in heaven, had a place among God’s holy ones, and shared in the same light that all God’s saints enjoy. This light is what makes angels “angels of light,” and is why Jesus called His apostles “the light of the world.”

So this being once existed in light before turning away from God. When he fell, his glory turned to dust—a mark of the wicked. That is why he is called the “prince of this world,” meaning he rules here on earth over those who follow his evil ways. As Scripture says, “The whole world lies in the power of the evil one.” God also calls him “the runaway dragon” in the book of Job, meaning he is an enemy who has fled from the truth. The dragon is the devil himself.

If these enemies of God were once pure, then it’s clear that only the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are pure by their very nature. Every created being is pure only because God gives them that purity—and they can lose it. Since these evil powers were once pure but fell, we see that no one is born evil, and no one is pure by nature alone. This means it is in our own hands—through our choices and actions—to live in happiness and holiness, or to fall into sin and ruin. If we grow deeply in evil through neglect and laziness, we can sink so low that we become an “opposing power” against God, just as the morning star once did.

Let Your Life Ring True

Neal Pollard

In the Christian Science Monitor, Nancy M. Kendall, drawing on other etymology (i.e., word origin) resources such as Hendrickson, Morris, and Barnhart, writes, “Due to poor equipment and the scarcity of precious metals, metal workers of the Middle Ages were not able to produce coins that were uniform in appearance and weight. This situation gave criminals an opportunity they couldn’t resist. Thus, when in doubt over a coin’s validity, a tradesman would drop it on a stone slab to “sound it.” If phony, it’d make a shrill or dull, flat tone in contrast to the clear ring of a true coin. By extension, a story tested and found acceptable is said to ring true, and its opposite, to ring false or hollow.” 

How interesting!  From that origination, the phrase has been applied to people’s statements, characters, and beliefs.  We ask, “Does he/she/this ring true?”  By saying this, we are looking for authenticity, for genuineness.  What an awesome opportunity we have to put our Christian lives on display!  Others look at it and us and by doing so can determine, to a degree, if Christianity rings true.  Certainly, they can compare our lives to what a Christian life should be and see if our individual lives ring true to authentic Christian behavior.  

Live before your coworkers, school mates, neighbors, fellow-Christians, and people you encounter daily in such a way that you show the validity of living for Jesus.  In this way, you are allowing the truth of Jesus to be put to test as it is observed in at least one sample.  There are poor imitations and substitutions out there.  You have the opportunity to show them the genuine article!  Let your life ring true!

Who Are Gog and Magog? The Ancient Names That Echo Through Eternity

Here, we must pause and speak clearly. The temptation to identify modern nations in ancient symbols is strong. Russia, China, and Iran—it’s as if the Bible becomes a cosmic puzzle that today’s newspaper must solve.

Brent Pollard

“You will come up against my people Israel, like a cloud covering the land. In the latter days I will bring you against my land, that the nations may know me, when through you, O Gog, I vindicate my holiness before their eyes.” —Ezekiel 38.16 (ESV)

Specific names stand out from the vast library of Scripture like distant thunder—mysterious, powerful, stirring something deep within the soul. Gog and Magog are such names. For generations, these ancient words have captured people’s imaginations, sparked debates, and fueled the very speculation that obscures their true glory.

Imagine the exile sitting by Babylon’s rivers, scroll unfurled, reading Ezekiel’s vision for the first time. What did the names mean to him? What do they mean for us? And here is where we must tread carefully, because the path of truth leads to wonder, whereas the path of speculation leads only to shadows.

When Heaven Writes History in Advance

Enter Ezekiel’s world for a moment. The prophet describes Gog, “of the land of Magog, the chief prince of Meshech and Tubal.” Sounds like they have weight, don’t they? But here something magnificent happens. This is not a typical historical account. This is heaven, writing poetry using the names of nations.

Consider this astonishing fact: no man named Gog has ever walked the earth. Yet, he is attributed as the leader of a coalition comprising Meshech, Tubal, Gomer, Togarmah, Persia, Cush, and Put—groups that have never historically formed such an alliance. These descendants, mentioned in Genesis 10, are scattered across the globe and are now gathered by divine artistry rather than human ambition.

Do you see it? Ezekiel paints with a cosmic brush, creating a vision that transcends time and geography. This is not tomorrow’s newspaper, written in ancient ink; it is eternity speaking in symbols that every generation can comprehend.

The War That Reveals God’s Heart

But what about the battle itself? Here is a mystery wrapped in majesty. Gog arrives with armies as massive as the stars, ready to descend like storm clouds on God’s people. The earth shakes with anticipation. Swords gleam. Banners break in the wind.

And then, before a single blow is thrown, the Author of All Stories takes the stage.

Earthquake. Pestilence. Heaven rains hailstones, fire, and brimstone (Ezekiel 38.22). The language itself echoes back in time to Sodom’s destruction and forward to judgment’s final hour. This isn’t about military genius or political strategy. This is about a God who fights for His children.

Classical commentators have long recognized that the vision magnifies God’s power in delivering His people and destroying their enemies. Gog represents not just one man’s ambition, but every force that has ever raised its fist against the Almighty’s chosen.

Do you feel your heart racing? Hopefully, it does. This is your story as well.

The Comfort Hidden in Symbols

Why this vision? Why now? Consider the first readers—God’s chosen people, dispersed like seeds in Babylon’s soil. Jerusalem lay in ruins. The temple stood as a collection of broken stones. Has their God forgotten them? Was He defeated by pagan gods and foreign armies?

The answer thunders from heaven: never.

The Lord provides centuries-long comfort through Ezekiel’s pen: “Every force that rises against you—every Gog that emerges from every Magog—will crumble before My power. Not because you are powerful, but because the I AM is your defender.”

Biblical interpreters understood this when they pointed out that Gog represents Christ’s enemies throughout history, serving as a timeless symbol of opposition to God’s people. For centuries, God’s people saw in these words not fear, but fierce hope. Only when speculative systems emerged in recent centuries did this comfort become clouded by confusion.

When the Final Curtain Falls

Turn the pages to Revelation 20, and the names appear again, like an echo across the corridors of time. “Gog and Magog.” But look at how John uses them! Satan, freed for his final act, gathers “the nations which are in the four quarters of the earth” for one last desperate charge against “the camp of the saints.”

Once again, no battle occurs. Fire descended from heaven. The end arrives not with a clash of armies, but with the whisper of divine judgment.

Gog and Magog represent not two nations, but all of God’s enemies. These names act as symbolic bookends to the eternal conflict between good and evil, representing all rebellion against divine authority.

Do you see the comfort here? Every enemy that has ever threatened God’s people, every force that has ever made you tremble in the night, has been gathered under these two ancient names, and they all face the same fate: swift, inevitable defeat by heaven’s own fire.

The Danger of Reading Tomorrow’s Headlines

Here, we must pause and speak clearly. The temptation to identify modern nations in ancient symbols is strong. Russia, China, and Iran—it’s as if the Bible becomes a cosmic puzzle that today’s newspaper must solve.

But this path leads away from comfort, not towards it. It breeds fear where God intended peace and speculation where He promised certainty. Gog and Magog represent something far greater than any single nation or alliance—the eternal principle that the world will always fight against God’s people, but God will always triumph.

Your comfort comes not from avoiding geopolitical turmoil, but from knowing that behind every earthly conflict is a heavenly King who has never lost a battle and never will.

The Names That Mean “Never Alone”

So, what do Gog and Magog mean to you right now, as you grapple with ancient and modern fears? They tell that you are not alone.

When the headlines make you tremble, remember that every enemy is already named in God’s book, and their defeat is predetermined. When things seem hopeless, remember that the same God who scatters all rebellion with heaven’s fire is the God who walks with you today.

This isn’t about charts or theories. This is about a Father fighting for his children. This is about a King whose victory is so sure that Scripture declares all opposition defeated.

The most incredible truth of all? The story concludes not with your defeat, but with your King’s eternal glory shining over a universe at peace.

“So I will show my greatness and my holiness and make myself known in the eyes of many nations. Then they will know that I am the Lord.” —Ezekiel 38.23 (ESV)

And in that day , every knee will bow—not in terror, but in awe of the One who has always been, is now, and will always be your magnificent Defender.

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book 1, Ch. 5.3-4)

Did God, the Creator and Maker of all things, create some of these beings holy and happy, so that they could never become anything else—not even have the possibility of being evil? And did He make others capable of either virtue or sin, depending on their choices?

Gary Pollard

[Editor’s Note: Gary is translating the Ante-Nicene Fathers works, beginning with Origin’s work. It is meant to update the British English of Roberts and Donaldson. What follows is part of that translation]

Now that we’ve listed so many important names of heavenly ranks and offices—and we know these titles refer to real, personal beings—we can ask this question: Did God, the Creator and Maker of all things, create some of these beings holy and happy, so that they could never become anything else—not even have the possibility of being evil? And did He make others capable of either virtue or sin, depending on their choices? Or did He maybe create some in such a way that they could never become good, and others who could never become evil? 

And still others who were able to become either good or evil? Let us begin by looking at the names themselves. Were the holy angels, from the moment they were created, always holy—and have they remained holy ever since, and will they always remain holy—without ever sinning or even having the power to sin?

Next, let us ask whether those called “holy principalities” began exercising authority from the moment of their creation. Were the ones they rule over made for the very purpose of being subject to them? In the same way, were those called powers made with the specific nature and purpose of ruling? Or did they come into that position as a reward for their virtue?

And what about the thrones or seats—did they receive their place of happiness and stability right when they were created, simply by God’s will? Or were the dominions given their rule, not because of anything they had done, but as a natural privilege that came with how they were created—something inseparable from their being? Now, if we believe that the holy angels, powers, thrones, virtues, and dominions were given their roles and glory by nature—that they were created that way from the start—then we must also believe the same thing about the opposing beings.

In that case, we would have to say that the evil principalities we struggle against were not originally good and then turned evil, but were evil from the beginning—that resisting what is good is part of their nature. And the same would go for the evil powers and wicked spirits—that they did not fall from goodness later on, but were created wicked from the start. Even the beings the apostle calls “rulers and princes of the darkness of this world” would have their rule over darkness not by choice, but by necessity of how they were made.

And if we follow this logic, then wicked spirits, malicious powers, and unclean demons would all have been created evil from the beginning. But if this seems absurd—and surely it is absurd—to say their evil doesn’t come from their own will, but was built into them by the Creator, then we must also say something similar about the good and holy beings.

That is, their goodness must not be something that belongs to their essential nature. For we have already shown that only the Father, the Son (Christ), and Holy Spirit possess goodness by their very nature—because there is nothing divided or changeable with God. Their goodness is not something added on, it is part of who they are.

So for every created being, their position (whether ruling or being ruled) doesn’t come from a special quality built into them at creation, but from their own actions and choices. Those who now rule, or exercise power or dominion, were put in those roles not because they were created with a right to them, but because of their merit—because they proved worthy of them.

We don’t want to base our beliefs on guesses or reasoning alone—especially when the subject is this serious and difficult. Nor do we want to ask people to agree with us based only on ideas that are uncertain. So let’s turn to holy Scripture and see if there are any clear teachings that can support what we’ve said, so that our views can be backed by something with real authority. First we’ll look at what Scripture says about wicked powers. Then we’ll continue our study of the others, as the Lord helps us understand, so that in things this difficult, we can get as close to the truth as possible—or at least form opinions that are faithful to the spirit of true religion.

In the book of the prophet Ezekiel, we find two prophecies addressed to the prince of Tyre. The first one might seem to be about a regular man, a human ruler over the city of Tyre. So for now, we won’t focus on that first prophecy. But the second prophecy clearly describes someone far greater than a man. It speaks of a higher being who fell from a great position to a lower and worse one. This passage gives us a strong example to show that evil powers were not created evil, but fell from a better condition and became wicked. It also shows that even the good powers were not made in such a way that they were totally unable to fall—if they became careless and didn’t guard their fortunate position, they could fall too.

The prophecy says that this being—called the prince of Tyre—had once been good, without any sin, placed in the paradise of God, beautiful and shining. Could such a being have been less than the other good ones? He is described as being beautiful, pure, and walking in the paradise of God—how could he be anything other than one of the holy and blessed powers, those created in a happy and exalted state?

Now let’s look at the actual words of the prophecy (Ez 28.11-19):

The word of the lord came to me. He said, “Human, sing this sad song about the king of Tyre. Say to him, ‘This is what the Lord God says: You were the perfect man — so full of wisdom and perfectly handsome. You were in Eden, the garden of God. You had every precious stone — rubies, topaz, and diamonds, beryls, onyx, and jasper, sapphires, turquoise, and emeralds. And each of these stones was set in gold. You were given this beauty on the day you were created. 

God made you strong. You were one of the chosen Cherubs who spread your wings over my throne. I put you on the holy mountain of God. You walked among the jewels that sparkled like fire. You were good and honest when I created you, but then you became evil. Your business brought you many riches. But they also put cruelty inside you, and you sinned. So I treated you like something unclean and threw you off of the mountain of God. 

You were one of the chosen Cherubs who spread your wings over my throne. But I forced you to leave the jewels that sparkled like fire. Your beauty made you proud. Your glory ruined your wisdom. So I threw you down to the ground, and now other kings stare at you. You did many wrong things. You were a very crooked merchant. In this way you made the holy places unclean. 

So I brought fire from inside you. It burned you! You burned to ashes on the ground, and now everyone can see your shame. All of the people in other nations were shocked about what happened to you. What happened to you will make people very afraid. You are finished!’” 

When we hear words like “You were the perfect man, full of wisdom and perfectly handsome”, and “From the day you were created with the cherubim, I placed you on the holy mountain of God”—who could possibly weaken or shrink the meaning of this so much as to think it describes just a man? Not even an ordinary saint—certainly not the historical prince of Tyre.

What fiery stones could any man have walked among? Who but a heavenly being could be called blameless from the day of creation, only later to have wickedness discovered in him, and then be cast down to the earth?

To be “cast down to the earth” means this being was not originally on earth, but was thrown there after falling. His “holy places” are said to have been polluted, which again shows that he had once been holy and blessed. So we can now say clearly: what Ezekiel wrote about the prince of Tyre is actually referring to an opposing spiritual power, and it clearly proves that this being was once holy and happy, but fell when wickedness was found in him. He was not created evil—he became evil.

We believe this refers to an angel who had been given authority to rule over the people of Tyre and to watch over their souls. Now, what exactly this “Tyre” means—the earthly Tyre in Phoenicia, or some other spiritual Tyre that this one represents—and which “souls of the Tyrians” are being spoken of, whether earthly or spiritual—is something we don’t need to explore in detail here. These are deep and mysterious matters and should not be handled in a quick or careless way. They deserve careful study and effort on their own.

“Son of Man”: Ezekiel, Jesus, and the Pattern of Prophetic Humility

God repeatedly reminds Ezekiel that he is not superhuman. He is a mortal man, chosen to carry the very words of God to a rebellious and hard-hearted people. His identity itself—son of man—becomes a walking testimony to humility.

Brent Pollard

When God called Ezekiel to his prophetic ministry, He chose not to address him by name, but by a title that would echo through the corridors of time: “Son of Man.” Ezekiel heard this title over ninety times from God’s lips throughout the book that bears his name. The Hebrew, ben adam, means “descendant of man” or “human one.” At first glance, it might seem like a poetic flourish. Since the title “son of man” is intentionally repeated and later used by Jesus of Nazareth, we should pause and ask: Why did He choose this title for both figures?

Isaiah may rightly bear the title “Messianic Prophet” for his remarkable prophecies of Christ’s birth, suffering, and coming reign (Isaiah 7.14; 9.6; 53). But Ezekiel’s role as “son of man” unveils something equally profound—it foreshadows the very form the Messiah would take, especially in His humble incarnation and prophetic ministry.

A Title That Humbles and Separates

Adam Clarke observed with penetrating insight that this term serves to humble Ezekiel, preventing him from being exalted in his mind because of the extraordinary revelations granted to him. Here is God’s gentle yet firm reminder of Ezekiel’s frailty and mortality—set against the backdrop of those overwhelming divine visions, particularly that awe-inspiring glimpse of the Almighty’s throne in Ezekiel 1. Matthew Henry echoes this truth, observing that despite the abundance of revelations, Ezekiel remains “a son of man, a mean, weak, mortal creature.”

God repeatedly reminds Ezekiel that he is not superhuman. He is a mortal man, chosen to carry the very words of God to a rebellious and hard-hearted people. His identity itself—son of man—becomes a walking testimony to humility.

John Gill observes deeper significance in this choice, noting that this title connects Ezekiel to the coming Christ. He points out that “this is a name which our Lord frequently took to himself in his state of humiliation” and that “the reason of it is, because he was an eminent type of Christ.” Thus, “son of man” becomes more than humiliation—it points forward to the One who would perfectly embody both human weakness and divine mission.

Prophetic Suffering and True Representation

Beyond its humbling power, the term “son of man” positions Ezekiel as one who truly represents his people. He stands not as an outsider hurling judgment from afar, but as a fellow exile (Ezekiel 1.1-3). God called Ezekiel to speak as one of them—and more, to suffer in symbolic ways that would paint vivid pictures of their coming condition (Ezekiel 4–5).

Burton Coffman observes that Ezekiel’s very actions embodied the message he delivered: lying upon his side for appointed days, shaving his head with a sword, cooking with defiled fuel, refusing to mourn when his beloved wife died—each act a living parable of Israel’s approaching judgment. In this suffering service, Ezekiel points forward to a greater Prophet yet to come, One who would bear not symbolic griefs but actual sorrows, not representative suffering but substitutionary sacrifice.

Daniel’s Vision: The Title Transformed

In Daniel 7.13-14, something remarkable happens. “Son of Man” takes on entirely different colors. Daniel sees in his night visions “one like a son of man” coming with the clouds of heaven, receiving dominion that shall never pass away. What a contrast! Ezekiel’s “son of man” is lowly, suffering, and representative of human weakness. Daniel’s “Son of Man” is exalted, glorious, clothed with eternal authority.

Yet both point toward the same magnificent Person: Jesus Christ. In the Gospels, our Lord refers to Himself as “the Son of Man” more than eighty times—more than any other title He claims. In taking this name, Jesus gathers up both streams—Ezekiel’s humble suffering and Daniel’s eternal glory.

Jesus bears the full weight of human suffering, as Ezekiel did in shadow and type. Yet He also inherits that eternal kingdom promised in Daniel’s soaring vision.

Ezekiel: Pattern of the Incarnate Christ

Here then is the glory of it: if Isaiah introduces us to the person and mission of the coming Messiah, Ezekiel shows us the very form He would take—a suffering servant, fully human, yet burning with divine purpose. The constant repetition of “son of man” in Ezekiel prepares our hearts to recognize the breathtaking paradox of the incarnation itself—God in human flesh, humble yet holy, obedient unto death, acquainted with our griefs (Isaiah 53.3; Philippians 2.5-8).

Jesus, the true and ultimate Son of Man, fulfilled every aspect of Ezekiel’s prophecy, not only through His words but also through His life. He was the ideal representative of all people, carrying God’s final message as well as everyone’s sins.

Conclusion: The Seed of Eternal Purpose

It was not God’s caprice leading him to employ the phrase “son of man” to reference Ezekiel. The expression was a designation of Ezekiel’s humanity, prophetic duty, and role as the people’s representative. Yet, we understand it also served as a divinely planted seed, preparing hearts and minds to understand the Messiah—not only as conquering King and eternal Savior, but as One who would walk among us in perfect humility and carry all our sorrows.

In this “son of man,” we glimpse the wisdom of our God, who chooses frail vessels for eternal purposes—and who, when the fullness of time had come, became one Himself.

“Son of Man” represents grace beyond measure since the God calling a mortal man by that title would Himself take it for Himself, taking our nature and our place—that we might share in His glory forever.

Jesus: The Only Door

In our culture, we’re bombarded with the promise of the “good life”—the American Dream. It’s sold as owning a nice house, driving shiny new cars, taking lavish vacations, and retiring to a life of leisure. But even those who achieve this dream often miss the abundant life Jesus promises in John 10.

Carl Pollard

In our culture, we’re bombarded with the promise of the “good life”—the American Dream. It’s sold as owning a nice house, driving shiny new cars, taking lavish vacations, and retiring to a life of leisure. But even those who achieve this dream often miss the abundant life Jesus promises in John 10. No matter how many commas are in your bank account, how new your car is, or how many rooms your house has, without Jesus, you don’t have life.

In John 10:7-9, Jesus declares, “I am the gate for the sheep.” This is the third of His seven “I Am” statements in the Gospel of John, echoing the divine name from Exodus 3:14. He’s not just a door—He’s *the* door, the only entry to a life of true satisfaction, security, and purpose. Forget the prosperity gospel that slaps Christian labels on the American Dream. Jesus’ abundant life isn’t about piling up stuff; it’s about being right with God through faith in Christ and having the hope of eternity in His presence. The Apostle Paul had next to nothing but was content with food and clothing (1 Timothy 6:8) because he was rich toward God. In Philippians 3:8, he says, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” So, I’m asking you to examine your life: which door have you walked through? Jesus is the only door to abundant life, always open, but you’ve got to choose to step through.

Picture yourself lost in a freezing forest, stumbling onto a house with a roaring fire, hot soup, and a warm bed. But there’s no door—no way in. You’re stuck outside, desperate for what’s inside. That’s life without Jesus. He says, “I am the gate for the sheep” (John 10:7), the sole entry to a relationship with God. In John 10, false shepherds—religious leaders, philosophies, or systems—promise access through works, sincerity, or rituals. Jesus calls them “thieves and robbers” (v. 8) who “steal and kill and destroy” (v. 10). The American Dream offers a wide gate—wealth, success, pleasure—but Jesus warns in Matthew 7:13-14 that the broad road leads to destruction. Other paths, like Islam, Buddhism, or even well-meaning people suggest salvation outside Christ, and miss the truth: “There is salvation in no one else” (Acts 4:12). Jesus’ sinless life, authoritative teaching, miracles, and resurrection prove He’s the only way. He says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me” (John 14:6). Are you chasing a false door or trusting Jesus alone?

Jesus doesn’t just claim to be the door; He promises life-changing blessings. John 10:9 says, “If anyone enters through me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture.” Jesus rescues us from God’s wrath, Satan’s schemes, and life’s futility. Our sin makes us God’s enemies (Romans 5:10), but Jesus took our punishment on the cross (1 Peter 2:24). Like a wolf licking a blood-coated blade, not realizing it’s killing itself, the American Dream lures us to spiritual death. Jesus saves us from false teachings and gives purpose, making this life the start of eternity (1 Corinthians 15:58).

Jesus offers security. “Go in and out” (v. 9) pictures a sheep’s freedom under the shepherd’s care, safe from wolves. Charles Spurgeon said believers can rest easy, protected by Christ’s power (Galatians 5:1). Unlike the shaky security of wealth, Jesus guards our souls, giving us direct access to God (Ephesians 2:18). Where do you feel trapped—guilt, fear, materialism? Jesus offers true freedom.

Jesus provides strength through “pasture” (v. 9)—spiritual nourishment like peace, purpose, and forgiveness. The American Dream leaves us chasing an elusive “something.” Jesus satisfies our deepest needs (Psalm 23:1). Are you spiritually starving, looking for fulfillment in success? Come to Jesus for lasting satisfaction.

Jesus’ blessings demand action: you must enter (v. 9). Just admiring the door—going to church or nodding at Jesus—won’t cut it. You’ve got to trust Him as Savior and obey His commands. This invitation is for “anyone” (v. 9). The world’s pleasures are a trap, promising life but delivering destruction. Jesus offers abundant life now and forever.

In Let’s Make a Deal, contestants pick between a visible prize and what’s behind a door. The visible prize—wealth, fame, pleasure, looks good but it means missing something better. Jesus, the true Door, offers salvation, security, and strength. Don’t stand outside wondering what could’ve been. Trust Him today, step through by faith, and receive this abundant life. The door’s open—will you walk through?

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book 1, Ch. 5.1.2)

Gary Pollard

[Editor’s Note: Gary is translating the Ante-Nicene Fathers works, beginning with Origin’s work. It is meant to update the British English of Roberts and Donaldson. What follows is part of that translation]

After the discussion we have briefly presented—concerning the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—it is appropriate to now offer some thoughts on conscious beings: their types and ranks, their roles, and the functions of both good and evil powers, as well as those who exist in between these two extremes (i.e., those who still engaged in struggle and undergoing testing). In Scripture, we find many names and descriptions of different ranks and roles, not only among the holy beings but also among those that are opposed to them. We will begin by listing these names and functions and then, as best we can, attempt to understand their meaning.

There are certain holy angels of God that Paul calls “ministering spirits, sent to serve those who will inherit rescue.” In Paul’s own writings, he also refers to these beings—drawing from a source unknown to us—as thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers. After listing these, he goes on to say about the One who will save us: “Who is above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named—not only in this world, but also in the one to come. This suggests that beyond the beings he names, there are other sentient entities—some whose names can be spoken in this world, though Paul does not list them, perhaps because no one else knew them either—and others whose names cannot be spoken now but will be revealed in the world to come.

Next, we need to understand that every self-aware being who goes beyond its proper limits and rules is guilty of sin—because in doing so, it turns away from what is right and just. Every rational creature, then, is capable of receiving either praise or blame: praise, if it uses its reason to grow toward what is better; and blame, if it turns away from the path of righteousness. In such cases, punishment is justly deserved. This principle also applies to the accuser and his followers, who are called his angels. But before we go further, we need to explain the names and titles given to these beings, so we clearly understand who we are speaking about. The names “Devil (Accuser),” “Satan (Enemy),” and “Wicked One”—who is also called the “Enemy of God”—appear frequently in Scripture. In addition, Scripture refers to certain angels of the accuser, and to a “prince of this world.” Whether this prince is the accuser himself or another being is not clearly revealed.

We also read about “princes of this world” who possess a kind of wisdom that will eventually come to nothing. Whether these are the same as the “principalities” that Paul says we must fight against—or whether they are different beings altogether—is a question that is not easy to answer with certainty. Alongside the principalities, Paul also mentions certain “powers” with whom we struggle, and this conflict even includes rulers of this world’s darkness. He also speaks of spiritual forces of wickedness in the sky. And what should we make of the wicked and unclean spirits mentioned in the Gospels? On the other hand, Paul also refers to beings who are said to bow—or will bow—in submission at the name of Jesus. This includes beings in the sky, on earth, and under the earth, as he lists them.

Since we are discussing self-aware beings, we must not leave out ourselves—human beings—who are called rational animals. Even among humans, different groupings are mentioned in Scripture. For example, it says: “The Lord’s portion is His people Jacob; Israel is the cord of His inheritance.” Meanwhile, other nations are described as belonging to the angels. As it’s written: “When the Most High divided the nations and scattered the sons of Adam, He established their boundaries according to the number of the angels of God.” So, as we consider other rational beings, we must also carefully examine the nature and purpose of the human soul.

Material Blessings

It pays to be a Christian. It will pay eternally (Mat. 6:21; 25:46a), but it will also cause one to reap the dividends thereof in this life. There will be tears to sow, and though joy comes in the morning of eternity (Psa. 126:5) there will be blessings accompanying the righteous life which the unrighteous will not experience.

Neal Pollard

In a time of restoration, Mattaniah and Bakbukiah led Judah in prayers of thanksgiving upon the completion of the wall around Jerusalem (Neh. 11:7). They recognized how much they owed God for His deliverance, guidance, and protection.  They were a blessed remnant, sustained by His providence.  They verbalized their thankfulness.  Could they have done less than that?

Past to present the United States has been blessed with a material abundance that matches or exceeds any known in recorded history. Through war after war, the nation has been spared from its enemies.  We have survived massive depressions, imposing threats to our freedom, periods of intense fear and sweeping doubt, and domestic disasters.  In such an environment and through such providential protection from our Holy Creator, the New Testament church has taken root and spread throughout the nation for over two centuries.  If not now, when has the Lord’s church had better opportunity to express our thanksgiving by righteous living and fervent evangelism? When has there ever been a time more pressing than now to declare the distinct message from heaven to modern man?

However, human nature has proven itself repeatedly to be disinclined toward service, sacrifice, and spirituality when material prosperity abounds.  Perhaps a blessing in the recent economic downturn may be man’s more acute awareness of our need for God.  Time will tell.

What cannot be missed is how faithfully God blesses humanity in a material way.  Truly, God sheds some material blessings upon everyone.  He gives to all life and breath and all things (Acts 17:25).  “Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above…” (Jas. 1:17).  Jesus taught in the sermon on the mount that the Father “causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Mat. 5:45).  Repeatedly, scripture reminds the reader that there is no breath, no health, no potential for prosperity apart from the abundant, physical gifts from heaven.  Simply being a human being qualifies one for some basic, material blessings.

God blesses His children in a special way.  That is not a guarantee of wealth and prosperity, even if so many Christians in America may possess that.  I have been to several nations where Christians live in subsistence, having food enough to fill a hungry belly once or twice a day, enjoying some kind of shelter, and owning maybe a change of clothes or two.  Most of these brethren would consider themselves very blessed and have a positive, contented outlook on life.  They view themselves as materially blessed.  These brethren’s examples remind us that the truest treasures do not have a price tag on them, yet children of God have so frequently been the happy recipients of relative prosperity.

Despite the fact that God has richly blessed His children, ingratitude for material blessings has often been a spiritual plague.  At Marah, a couple of day’s journey past the Red Sea whose waters had just been parted, the Israelites complained for lack of water.  Marah literally meant bitter water, and for this reason Israel would not drink there.  The Lord showed Moses a piece of wood which, after he threw it in the water, sweetened it.  Then, Moses writes, “There the Lord made for them a statute and a rule, and there he tested them,  saying, ‘If you will diligently listen to the voice of the Lord your God, and do that which is right in his eyes, and give ear to his commandments and keep all his statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you that I put on the Egyptians, for I am the Lord, your healer’” (Exo. 15:25b-26, ESV).  Incidentally, a few miles later they came to a placed called Elim, “where there were twelve wells of water” (Exo. 15:27).  They had seen physical deliverance a mere 72 hours before, but they lost faith in God’s ability to provide so quickly.  Later on in the sermon on the mount, Jesus warned His disciples not to imitate such a display of doubt and distrust.  He shows the foolishness and futility of worrying over material things, urging His disciples to instead seek the kingdom first in the full confidence of divine provision (Mat. 6:25-34).  Therefore, as children of God should more fully and quickly trust God to provide for needs and necessities (cf. 1 Co. 10:10; Phi. 2:14), we should also be quick to recognize and be thankful for the material blessings we regularly receive.

Consider a few material blessings unique to those living the Christian life.

Long Life

Righteous people deliver stillborn children.  Godly teenagers die in tragic accidents.  Some wonderful Christian folks have had their lives dramatically shortened by terminal illness or untimely death.  So, this blessing needs qualification.  Solomon writes, “My son, do not forget my law, but let your heart keep my commands; for length of days and long life and peace they will add to you” (Pro. 3:2).  This rule of thumb certainly has exceptions, like those already noted.  Yet, the healthy lifestyle, management of stress and worry, and attitude that seeks to live and serve so long as God wills leads the righteous to a condition of life that lends itself to longevity.  This is reiterated in Proverbs 3:16 (the companionship of long life and wisdom), Proverbs 9:11 (days multiplied through fear and knowledge), Proverbs 10:27 (the fear of the Lord prolongs days) and Proverbs 28:16 (those who hate unjust gain prolong their days).  

True peace  

There are a great many people in the world today who are disturbed and distressed, and many have not learned that this is very often a lack of true peace available only in Christ (John 14:27; cf. Phi. 4:7).  Again, Solomon repeats the presence of peace in the lives of the righteous (3:17; 16:7).  There is a false, self-deluding peace with which the ungodly numb themselves (cf. Jer. 8:11), but this is tantamount to building on the proverbial sand (cf. Mat. 7:26-27).   Some nervous conditions with physical side-effects are no more than the outgrowth of a mind disturbed by ungodly, self-guided living.  Christians may choose to give in to the sin of worry and sacrifice the peace of Christ, but they are surrendering a blessing that most rightly belongs to them.  Peace is a spiritual blessing, but there are physical aspects to it.

Answered prayer 

  Though the blind man may have been speaking his own theology and not the Lord’s (John 9:31), Peter makes clear the principle that “the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayer.  But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil” (1 Pe. 3:12). Since the righteous have their desires properly trained (cf. Jas. 4:1-3), the desires they express to God are granted (Pro. 10:24).  He hears the righteous’ prayers (Pro. 15:29).  Literally, He listens with a yearning to grant our requests as it befits His own will.  We pray for many spiritual things, but we also pray concerning physical matters.  Prayers for health, job, the ability to provide for family, safe travel, births, marriages, and the like are bound up in the material as well as the spiritual.  

Deliverance

Deliverance is a broad topic.  David was delivered from the paw of the lion and the bear, and so this was deliverance from natural terrors.  He was delivered from Goliath, Saul, and Absalom, deliverance from human threats and opposition.  He was delivered from blood guiltiness and personal, egregious sin, and so deliverance from spiritual death.  His son, Solomon, must have seen the after-effects of such deliverance in his father’s life.  By righteous living, much trouble can be averted (Pro. 11:8).  The early Christians suffered loss of life in the throes of persecution, but so often God has chosen to deliver His children’s lives.  This is a material blessing each of us should take time to note.

It pays to be a Christian.  It will pay eternally (Mat. 6:21; 25:46a), but it will also cause one to reap the dividends thereof in this life.  There will be tears to sow, and though joy comes in the morning of eternity (Psa. 126:5) there will be blessings accompanying the righteous life which the unrighteous will not experience.  Thank God for the hope and promise tied to the righteous life, a life of material as well as endless spiritual blessings.

The Lamb, Not the Seductress: Reexamining Bathsheba’s Story

So, did David not know who she was? It’s difficult to believe that a woman connected to three men in David’s inner circle was a stranger to him. More likely, the evening light and David’s rooftop vantage point allowed him to see her form but not recognize her.

Brent Pollard

July 15, 2025, seemed like an ordinary day, but it became extraordinary when a CEO was caught canoodling with a fellow employee on the kiss cam during a Coldplay concert. The intimate moment quickly went viral, especially since the CEO was married. Many likely felt schadenfreude over the fall of a wealthy individual worth between $20 and $70 million. This contemporary scandal provides a lens through which to examine how we often misread similar biblical narratives. Frankly, I believe it is best to heed the words of Paul: while we expose evil deeds, we do not speak in detail about what is done in secret (Ephesians 5.11–12). Still, I needed to establish this cultural backdrop for this article.

One of those quick to offer a take on the July 15 incident was the satirical site The Babylon Bee. I typically enjoy their brand of humor, but this time they missed the mark. They likened the scandal to the biblical account of David and Bathsheba. If Bathsheba truly were the gold-digging seductress some portray her as, then the comparison might be justified. But she wasn’t. Bathsheba was a victim of a powerful man’s abuse, which makes The Bee’s joke not only flat but also deeply inappropriate.

This article will build a case, as if in a court of law, defending Bathsheba against unjust accusations. I will argue that she was a victim of rape and that her husband was murdered to conceal the crime. The evidence is found in 2 Samuel 11.

First, the text reveals David’s negligence and sets the stage for what follows. Verse one sets the tone: it was the season when kings customarily led their troops into battle. But David stayed home. He was not where he was supposed to be. Then in verse two, we find that David is getting out of bed in the evening. The text doesn’t say why, but the timing is odd. I can’t help but think of the words attributed to David’s son: “How long will you lie down, O sluggard? When will you arise from your sleep?” (Proverbs 6.9). It reminds us of the adage that idle hands are the devil’s workshop. This context of David’s negligence becomes crucial when we examine what happens next. Had David been at the front, none of what follows may have occurred.

As David walks on his rooftop, he sees a woman bathing. The text tells us she was very beautiful (2 Samuel 11.2). Unlike Job, who made a covenant with his eyes not to gaze lustfully (Job 31.1), David does not look away. Instead, he inquires about her (v. 3). The answer he receives is revealing: this is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, and the wife of Uriah the Hittite. Bathsheba has three direct relational ties to David. Uriah and Eliam were part of David’s elite band of mighty men (2 Samuel 23.34, 39). Additionally, Eliam was the son of Ahithophel, one of David’s counselors (2 Samuel 15.12).

So, did David not know who she was? It’s difficult to believe that a woman connected to three men in David’s inner circle was a stranger to him. More likely, the evening light and David’s rooftop vantage point allowed him to see her form but not recognize her. This is important: Bathsheba was not bathing at a time or place where she should have expected to be seen.

Second, examining Bathsheba’s actions shows she was following the Law, not acting seductively. There is debate about why Bathsheba was bathing. Some translations imply she was purifying herself from her monthly period; others suggest she was washing after intercourse with David. But here’s the key: if she were washing after sex, then both she and David would have had to bathe according to Leviticus 15.18. Yet the text only describes Bathsheba bathing.

More importantly, verse four tells us she was purifying herself from her impurity. The Hebrew word tum’ah refers to ritual uncleanness, and in Leviticus 15.19–30, this term is explicitly used for menstrual impurity. The law outlines a process of purification following menstruation, including waiting seven days and bathing before being considered clean. So the context supports that Bathsheba was obeying the Law of Moses, not reacting to a sinful encounter.

Furthermore, we are not told where Bathsheba was bathing. Was it on a rooftop, as depicted in art? We don’t know. The only specified location is David’s. He was on a rooftop with a clear, elevated view. Suggesting that Bathsheba was being immodest or trying to attract attention assumes she knew David was not at war, knew he was home, and knew he would be waking up and wandering onto the roof at that very moment—all highly improbable. The seduction theory collapses under its weight.

When we scrutinize the text, it becomes clear that Bathsheba was where she was supposed to be, doing what the Law required. David was not. He was idle, indulgent, and willfully blind. What followed was not an affair. It was an act of power and violation. We must stop blaming Bathsheba for being seen and instead call David’s sin what it truly was. I know we are uncomfortable calling David a rapist, but we don’t seem to have a problem with acknowledging his premeditated murder of Uriah.

Finally, the prophet Nathan’s parable confirms this interpretation and validates Bathsheba’s innocence. Of course, David later repented (Psalm 51), and Scripture still calls him a man after God’s own heart (1 Samuel 13.14). But his heart was not aligned with God in 2 Samuel 11. The prophet Nathan’s parable does not depict Bathsheba as a co-conspirator. She is the poor man’s beloved lamb, taken and slaughtered by one who had many (2 Samuel 12.1–4). The lamb does not seduce the butcher.

Justice for Bathsheba does not mean denying David’s restoration. It simply means telling the truth: she was not the temptress. She was the victim.

What To Do When The Bull Has You By The Horns

Often, we panic or worry. Or we despair and even give up. We may talk like Elisha’s servant, who seeing the Syrian army surrounding them, cried, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” (2 Kings 6:15). The problems, pressures, and pains of life can so gouge us that we are ready to come unglued! 

Neal Pollard

What does a bull running amuck along the streets of Pamplona think about? If they have thoughts and they live to gore, then one particular bull may have been pretty pleased with his results. He gored two brothers, Lawrence and Michael Lenahan, simultaneously, in the annual running of the bulls festival. Fortunately for both of them, their wounds did not prove to be fatal (details here). 

When we tackle a problem head on, determined to be decisive, we often say we are “taking the bull by the horns.” This phrase probably comes either from rounding up cattle or bullfighting. It assumes the person has control of (or is trying to take control of) a situation. However, what do you do when the situation seems to be taking control of you? What do you do when the bull has you by its horns?

Often, we panic or worry. Or we despair and even give up. We may talk like Elisha’s servant, who seeing the Syrian army surrounding them, cried, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” (2 Kings 6:15). The problems, pressures, and pains of life can so gouge us that we are ready to come unglued! 

What’s the answer? Elisha’s prayer holds the key when we’re gored with grief and stuck by sorrows. He pleads, “O LORD, please open his eyes that he may see” (17). In response, “the LORD opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (17). 

When you are in the midst of a painful problem, you may not actually see the power and protection of heaven in such a visible, dramatic way. But be assured that you serve the same God with the same power! He will never leave us or forsake us (Heb. 13:5). 

As you find yourself running down the narrow way (cf. Mat. 7:13-14), you are prone to attack from one who’s set his sights on you. He may not actually have horns, but he has ways to try and afflict you (cf. 2 Cor. 2:11; 12:7; Eph. 6:11,16). Trust this. “Greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world” (1 John 4:4). 

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book 1, Ch. 4.1.2)

Gary Pollard

[Editor’s Note: Gary is translating the Ante-Nicene Fathers works, beginning with Origin’s work. It is meant to update the British English of Roberts and Donaldson. What follows is part of that translation]

To illustrate the nature of falling away—or spiritual defection—among those who live carelessly, it seems appropriate to use an analogy. Imagine someone who has steadily grown in their knowledge of a discipline, such as geometry or medicine, until they have achieved mastery through long and diligent practice. We don’t think it possible that they could go to bed fully skilled and then wake up completely ignorant of their craft. Of course, we’re not referring here to cases of injury or illness, which fall outside the scope of this illustration. As long as this expert continues to study and practice their discipline, their knowledge remains intact. But if they stop practicing and abandon their habits of discipline, because of neglect their grasp on the subject will begin to weaken—first a little, then increasingly more—until eventually, their knowledge fades altogether and is entirely lost from memory.

However, it’s also possible that when this decline first begins—when the person starts slipping due to a subtle but corrupting negligence—they might still recover. If they are awakened to their condition early enough and return quickly to their previous diligence, they can restore what they’ve only recently begun to lose and reclaim knowledge that had not yet been deeply erased. Now let’s apply this to those who pursue the knowledge and wisdom of God—a pursuit that far surpasses any earthly study in depth and value. Consider, through the lens of this analogy, what it means to gain divine knowledge—or to lose it—especially when we reflect on the words of the apostle, who says that the perfect will see the glory of the Lord face to face in the revelation of His mysteries.

In our effort to highlight the divine blessings given to us by the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—the source of all holiness—we’ve digressed somewhat from our main point. While speaking about the soul, which came up incidentally, we touched briefly on a related matter concerning human nature. With God’s help, through Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, we hope to return more fully, at the appropriate time, to a fuller discussion of all rational beings, which are classified into three types and distinct categories.

An Excellent Wife

She is careful about how she approaches the various duties of the home, which she rules and oversees. She adopts a wise, God-approved character. This leads her to bless all who are in various relationships with her. Husbands do well to approach their duties, character-development, and relationships in the same way.

Neal Pollard

The book of Proverbs ends with an investigation (chapter 31). The writer, whether Lemuel is making observations or passing along his mother’s sage guidance, leads the search. He writes how rare and valuable an excellent wife is (31:10). It is a literary masterpiece, an acrostic poem (each verse begins with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet), a chiasm (“a rhetorical or literary figure in which words, grammatical constructions, or concepts are repeated in reverse order, in the same or modified form,” Apple Dictionary, 2.3.0). You would diagram the outline of the chiasm like this: A B C B A. The chiasm was a literary way to show the heart or focus of a specific section of Scripture. It would be readily identified by a Jewish reader, but it enriches our study when we understand that it’s intentionally there. The heart of this poem is verse 23: “Her husband is known in the gates when he sits among the elders of the land.” The net effect of the kind of wife described here is that it blesses her spouse’s life. That should be the goal of every married person, to raise others’ view of him or her through the righteous conduct of our life. What is the character of the wife described here?

  • She is prized and praiseworthy (10, 30-31).
  • Her husband and home are profited by and praise her (11-12, 28-29).
  • She is a hard worker (13-19, 27). 
  • She is generous with her material things and her wisdom (20, 26).
  • She is not ruled by worries and fears (21,25).
  • She dresses her children and house well and she dresses her character well (21-22, 24-25).

Some have used this poem to try and hold up a “Renaissance Woman,” an ideal so unrealistic that no woman could ever live up to her standard. These have had too narrow a view of the author’s purpose. He is trying to demonstrate the kind of approach that a wife, in this context, should take to her role and responsibility. She is careful about how she approaches the various duties of the home, which she rules and oversees. She adopts a wise, God-approved character. This leads her to bless all who are in various relationships with her. Husbands do well to approach their duties, character-development, and relationships in the same way. Society will be benefited from its members taking who they are and what they do more seriously. So will the church and the home. 

What a blessing to be married to an excellent wife! There is no substitute for this. How it makes the inevitable burdens of life easier to carry. Let us all strive to be excellent in the role(s) God has given to us! 

As a Vapor Vanishes: Reflecting on the Brevity of Life

The tragedy of Fauja Singh’s passing should stir us, not just with grief, but with resolve. Not everyone will run marathons. But all of us are race runners.

Brent Pollard

“Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” (James 4.14)

At 114, Fauja Singh had outrun time itself—until time caught up with him on a quiet village road.

The world mourned the tragic death of Fauja Singh, the legendary marathon runner from Punjab, India. At 114 years old, he was hit and killed by a vehicle while walking in his village. Known as the “Turbaned Tornado,” he started running in his late 80s, broke age-related barriers, and inspired people worldwide. His sudden and heartbreaking passing reminds us painfully that life is uncertain. (Singh, 2025)

Even the most lively and resolute spirit cannot escape the limited nature of time.

Scripture speaks with sobering clarity about the fragility of life. “As for the days of our life, they contain seventy years, or if due to strength, eighty years, yet their pride is but labor and sorrow; for soon it is gone and we fly away” (Psalm 90.10). This psalm of Moses captures both time’s swift passage and life’s inevitable end. Even for someone like Fauja Singh, who surpassed expectations by living over 110 years, the outcome remains the same. “…it is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment” (Hebrews 9.27).

Life’s Fleeting Nature

King David wrote, “Man is like a mere breath; his days are like a passing shadow.” (Psalm 144.4). Job adds, “Man, who is born of woman, is short-lived and full of turmoil. Like a flower he comes forth and withers. He also flees like a shadow and does not remain” (Job 14.1–2). These are not ornamental flourishes for funerals; they are divine truths designed to ground the living.

Even in Isaiah’s reflective sorrow, we read, “Like a shepherd’s tent my dwelling is pulled up and removed from me; as a weaver I rolled up my life. He cuts me off from the loom; from day until night You make an end of me.” (Isaiah 38.12). Scripture layers these images deliberately—vapor that dissipates, flowers that wither, shadows that fade. Each metaphor reinforces the same sobering truth: nothing in this life endures.

The Illusion of Control

The book of James highlights our assumption. We often speak confidently about “tomorrow,” make arrangements for profit and travel, and forget that we have no control over even a single heartbeat. James doesn’t forbid us from planning, but advises us to include God in our plans. “Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that’” (James 4.15).

Our culture idolizes productivity and mastery of time, filling calendars, chasing deadlines, and marking anniversaries as if we can control time. But a single accident on a quiet village road can shatter that illusion.

We are not the masters of our fate. We are the stewards of fleeting days.

A Call to Wisdom

What, then, shall we do with this fleeting existence? Moses offers a simple but profound prayer: “So teach us to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90.12). This is not a morbid obsession with death; rather, it is a prudent recognition of it.

A devoted child of God lives each day with eternity in mind. As the Hebrew writer reminds us, judgment comes after death (Hebrews 9.27). There is no second race or alternative path. Whether we die at 14 or 114, the race concludes for everyone—and ultimately, the finish line that truly counts appears.

For those in Christ, that finish line is not fearful. The apostle Paul, nearing his end, wrote with confidence, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4.7). We are not guaranteed a long race, but it must be a faithful one.

Redeeming the Time

The tragedy of Fauja Singh’s passing should stir us, not just with grief, but with resolve. Not everyone will run marathons. But all of us are race runners. The Hebrew writer exhorts us to “lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and…run with endurance the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12.1).

This life—delicate and brief as it is—is a gift. It’s not meant for self-indulgence but for obedience. It’s not for procrastination but for preparation. If today is all we have, let it be a day that honors God.

Conclusion

Like the marathons he ran for decades, Singh’s life had a clear beginning, a long middle filled with purpose, and an end that came suddenly. The race is over, but the legacy of how he ran remains. He reminds us that neither extraordinary strength nor advanced age can prevent the end of life. For everyone, death is certain—sometimes sudden, sometimes anticipated, but always unavoidable.

The vapor will vanish. But until then, let us live wisely, walk humbly, and prepare fervently for what lies ahead.

“For what is your life?” (James 4.14 KJV)

This is a question worth asking before our last breath answers it.

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are taken from the NASB® (New American Standard Bible®, 1995 Updated Edition). Copyright © 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Reference list:

Singh, I. P. (2025, July 15). At 114, oldest marathon runner Fauja Singh killed in road accident. The Times of India. https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/chandigarh/at-114-oldest-marathon-runner-fauja-singh-killed-in-road-accident/articleshow/122460660.cms

Jesus The Light

A few weeks ago, I ordered motion-sensing nightlights from Amazon. They’re not super bright, but their gentle glow keeps me from stumbling over the toys my kids leave scattered across the house. I’m half-convinced they place those blocks strategically to cause maximum damage! Those nightlights, though, are lifesavers. 

Light changes everything.

Carl Pollard

A few weeks ago, I ordered motion-sensing nightlights from Amazon. They’re not super bright, but their gentle glow keeps me from stumbling over the toys my kids leave scattered across the house. I’m half-convinced they place those blocks strategically to cause maximum damage! Those nightlights, though, are lifesavers. 

Light changes everything. It reveals what’s hidden, guides us safely, and offers comfort. A lighthouse directs ships to shore. Headlights illuminate the road ahead. When a strange noise echoes at night, a flick of a switch brings reassurance. Light is security, hope, and power. Sadly, our world grows darker every day. We’re flooded with voices—news alerts, influencers, politicians, even loved ones—competing for our attention. The noise can be overwhelming, drowning out what’s true and steady. Yet, through this chaos, one voice shines clearly: Jesus, proclaiming, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). In a world of distractions and deception, our Savior says He is the way, the truth, the life—a lifeline for us all.

To grasp the weight of Jesus’ words, imagine the scene in John 8. It’s the Feast of Tabernacles in Jerusalem, a week-long celebration of God’s provision for Israel in the wilderness. Each night, massive lampstands illuminated the temple courts, their flames recalling the pillar of fire that guided God’s people (Exodus 13:21-22). These lights symbolized God’s presence and guidance. Amid this glowing backdrop, Jesus stands and declares, “I am the light of the world.” This isn’t subtle. He’s claiming to be the fulfillment of those lamps, the God who led Israel. His Jewish audience understood: Isaiah 60:19 promises, “The Lord will be your everlasting light,” and Psalm 27:1 says, “The Lord is my light and my salvation.” Jesus is saying, “I am that God.”

When Jesus says “I AM,” He echoes God’s name from the burning bush: “I AM WHO I AM” (Exodus 3:14). Each “I AM” statement in John’s Gospel is a bold claim to divinity. Some argue Jesus never claimed to be God, but His actions tell a different story. He calms storms, as God does in Job 38. He gives sight to the blind, fulfilling Isaiah’s prophecy. He calls Himself the Good Shepherd, like God in Jeremiah 31. When accused of breaking the Sabbath, He claims to be its Lord (Luke 6), working to sustain creation while we rest. The Jews knew what He meant, accusing Him of blasphemy (John 8:59).

This darkness Jesus speaks of isn’t just poetic—it’s the spiritual reality of a world and heart estranged from God. In John 8, we see it: Pharisees, blind with self-righteousness, ready to stone a woman caught in adultery; the woman, trapped in shame; the crowds, restless for meaning. That’s our world too—chasing success, pleasure, or power, yet left empty. 

Jesus’ light exposes our sin and need, but it also overcomes them. He promises, “Follow me, and you’ll have the light of life.” The blind man in John 9 didn’t just gain sight; he saw Jesus and worshipped (John 9:38). The Pharisees, clinging to pride, stayed blind (John 9:40-41).

So, what do we do? First, recognize your darkness—pride, shame, or chasing what can’t satisfy. Second, follow Jesus daily, trusting His truth over the world’s noise. Finally, reflect His light, forgiving others or sharing the gospel (Matthew 5:14-16). Jesus, the Light of the World, is the God who conquers death and guides us home. 

The darkness is real, but His light is stronger. Will you step into it?

Over 40 Times

Over 40 times, Scripture directly commands us to defend, protect, and care for orphans and widows. This isn’t a suggestion—it’s a high priority in God’s heart.

Dale Pollard

Over 40 times, Scripture directly commands us to defend, protect, and care for orphans and widows. This isn’t a suggestion—it’s a high priority in God’s heart.

Take a quick look at few of these passages: 

Deuteronomy 10:18 – God executes justice for the fatherless and widow.

Isaiah 1:17 – “Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow.”

Jeremiah 7:6 – “If you do not oppress the alien, the fatherless or the widow…then I will let you dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers forever.” 

Zechariah 7:10 – “Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless…”

And here’s one that we’ll take a closer look at: 

In Job 29, Job makes the argument that he’s a righteous man because he, 

“rescued the poor who cried for help, and the fatherless who had none to assist them.” 

Breaking this down in order, notice what the most righteous man of his day knew about righteous living, 

In verse 4 he claims, “I was a friend of God…” to explain, this he provides examples of what built this close friendship:

“I delivered the poor who cried for help…” (v.12) 

“I put on righteousness, and it clothed me; my justice was like a clean & royal garment” (v.14). 

This was a lifestyle and not a few occasions that he could recall. 

And finally, 

“I was a father to the needy, and I searched out the cause of him whom I did not know” (v.16). 

See how many aspects of his faithful qualities revolved around caring for and looking for those who were needy? The emphasis is on those who were fatherless, widows, and the most vulnerable. What a great guy, and what a greater God. We can be His friend by doing the same today. 

Does God Still Send Disasters As Punishment?

When disaster strikes, people instinctively seek meaning. After Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and earthquakes tore through Haiti, a famous televangelist swiftly claimed these events were acts of divine retribution. While such statements may seek to provide a sense of cosmic order, they often do more harm than good and reveal a troubling misunderstanding of God’s character in our modern world.

Brent Pollard

When disaster strikes, people instinctively seek meaning. After Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and earthquakes tore through Haiti, a famous televangelist swiftly claimed these events were acts of divine retribution. While such statements may seek to provide a sense of cosmic order, they often do more harm than good and reveal a troubling misunderstanding of God’s character in our modern world.

This impulse originates from retributive theology, which holds that God punishes sin through physical means, such as natural disasters. This view has deep roots in the Old Testament, where Israel’s covenant promised prosperity to those who obeyed and calamity to those who rebelled. In this unique covenant between God and a nation, God linked physical blessings and curses directly to the nation’s spiritual faithfulness.

But does that system still govern our world today?

A Covenant of Earthly Consequences

To understand this question, we need to revisit ancient Israel—a time when God’s people constituted a literal nation with defined borders, laws, and a temple. In this theocratic context, God sent droughts, diseases, and foreign armies to discipline His people and urge them to return to faithfulness. Prophets like Elijah (1 Kings 17.1) and Amos (Amos 4.6-11) proclaimed these judgments with divine authority, and Israel’s history unfolded as a visible drama of obedience and its consequences.

Even within the Old Testament, a deeper mystery unfolds. The story of Job—a righteous man who suffers beyond human comprehension—challenges the idea of simple retribution. When Job’s friends insisted that his suffering must be a sign of hidden sin, God rebuked them (Job 42.7-8). Their critical mistake was presuming to speak for God about matters they could not fully understand.

A Kingdom Transformed

Christ’s arrival transformed everything as profoundly as dawn breaks the night. God’s people are no longer confined to a single nation or governed by stone tablets. We are now citizens of a spiritual kingdom, shaped not by geography but by grace, led not by thunder from Sinai but by the gentle voice of the Spirit.

Nowhere in the New Testament do we see God threaten the Church with natural disasters as punishment for sin. While divine discipline is still a reality—“the Lord disciplines those He loves”—its nature has undergone a profound transformation (Hebrews 12.6). The Spirit convicts hearts, churches correct, and the consequences manifest in individuals’ souls rather than in their harvests.

When Calamity Comes

This fact does not imply that God is distant when disaster occurs. He remains sovereign, with His providence still overseeing the wind and waves. However, we need to carefully distinguish between stating that God can use tragedy for a purpose and claiming that He caused it to punish specific sins.

When people asked Jesus about a collapsed tower that killed eighteen people, He did not speculate about the victims’ sins. Instead, He gave an urgent yet gentle reminder: “I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13.5 NASB95). This statement suggests that tragedy is not proof of others’ hidden wrongdoings, but rather a call for us to examine our hearts.

All creation suffers under the weight of sin, and hurricanes, earthquakes, and fires are symptoms of a world fractured by the fall, not signs of an angry God pacing heaven’s battlements. Even amidst such brokenness, He draws near with compassion.

Discipline Refined

God’s discipline today is not diminished but refined. It comes through the quiet grief that follows sin, the loving correction of faithful friends, and the Spirit’s gentle whisper through the Word. No longer does God thunder judgments from mountaintops—He writes His corrections on our biblically trained consciences through grace.

Claiming that every disaster represents divine judgment misinterprets both the grace of the New Covenant and the nature of our Savior. Christ did not come to condemn the world but to save it (Luke 19.10). The cross speaks more profoundly than any hurricane—there, God’s justice and mercy met, and love triumphed.

Our Response

When disasters inevitably strike, let us respond with compassion rather than blame. Let us be Christ’s hands, lifting those who have fallen and rebuilding what tragedy has broken. Before we point out the faults of others, let us examine our hearts. Above all, let us offer hope instead of theories.

We live not under wrathful skies but beneath a gracious banner. If God speaks through storms today, it’s not to destroy but to awaken, not to punish but to invite.

In this broken world, the Church’s message must never be “They got what they deserved” but “Come, weary soul, and find rest in Christ.” He doesn’t send floods to wash us away but offers living water to make us whole.