Tag: Christ

The Seven “I AM” Declarations: Jesus Reveals Himself (Part 2 of 2)

Brent Pollard

In Part 1, we examined the first four “I AM” declarations: Jesus as the Bread of Life who satisfies our deepest hunger, the Light of the World who dispels our darkness, the Door through whom we enter salvation, and the Good Shepherd who lays down His life for the sheep. Now we turn to the final three declarations, where Jesus addresses our mortality, our confusion about reaching God, and our need for spiritual vitality.

The Resurrection and the Life (John 11.25)

“I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies.”

Standing before Lazarus’s tomb, Jesus did not say, “I will give you resurrection” or “I believe in resurrection.” He said, “I AM the resurrection and the life.” He is not merely its provider, but its embodiment.

Death seems so final. It is the great enemy that takes everyone we love and awaits us all. But Jesus declares that death has met its match. For those who believe in Him, physical death becomes a doorway, not a dead end. The body may sleep, but the person lives. One day, even the body will be raised.

This is not wishful thinking. John saw Lazarus leave the tomb. The early church witnessed Jesus’ rise. This hope transforms how we face mortality. Death is real, but Christ is ultimate.

The Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14.6)

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father except through Me.”

In an age of religious pluralism and moral relativism, this verse stands as either supreme arrogance or saving truth. There is no middle ground. Jesus does not claim to show us a way—He claims to be the way. He does not point us toward truth—He is truth incarnate. He does not offer us a program for better living—He is life itself.

The claim is total. He is the Way to God. He is the Truth—God’s final revelation. He is the Life—now and always. Not one of many. Not one voice among teachers. Jesus is the only bridge to God.

This exclusivity may offend modern sensibilities, but it should thrill our seeking souls. For it means salvation is not a maze of a thousand dead ends. It is a straight path. It is Jesus Christ.

The True Vine (John 15.1, 5)

“I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.”

Throughout the Old Testament, Israel was depicted as God’s vine—a recurring metaphor found in passages such as Isaiah 5.1-7 and Psalm 80.8-16, where the nation is described as a vineyard planted and tended by God, intended to produce righteousness and justice as its fruit. However, the prophets repeatedly lamented that Israel failed in this calling, becoming like a wild or unproductive vine and thus disappointing its divine caretaker. Against this rich literary and historical background, Jesus now declares Himself to be the true Vine in John 15; He positions Himself as the faithful and fruitful source of spiritual life that Israel, despite its privileged status, could never fully realize. The “Vine” metaphor here thus carries deeper theological significance: Jesus alone enables true spiritual growth and fruitfulness, succeeding where Israel, as God’s original vine, fell short.

This image teaches us a vital truth: Christianity is an organic connection to Jesus Himself, not simply a matter of performing religious works. The branch does not strain and sweat to produce grapes; it simply remains attached to the vine, which supplies everything needed. Our job is not to manufacture spiritual fruit through sheer willpower, but to abide—to stay connected, remain in fellowship, and continually draw life from Him. The “branch and vine” metaphor shows our dependence on Christ for spiritual growth.

Apart from Him, we can do nothing of eternal value. Connected to Him, we become channels of His life and love to the world around us. This is the secret of the Christian life: not self-improvement, but abiding in Christ.

The Pattern of Grace

Do you see the pattern woven through these seven declarations? Jesus meets us at every point of our deepest need.

We hunger—He is the Bread of Life.

We stumble in darkness—He is the Light of the World.

We need safety—He is the Door.

We are lost and scattered—He is the Good Shepherd.

We face death—He is the Resurrection and the Life.

We are confused about the path to God—He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

We are weak and fruitless—He is the Vine from whom all fruit flows.

But notice something more profound: In every statement, Jesus does not merely give something—He is something. He does not distribute bread; He is Bread. He does not shine a light; He is Light. He does not offer life; He is Life.

This is the great truth that transforms everything: The Christian faith is not primarily about principles to follow or rules to keep. It is about a Person to know. That Person is Christ Himself, offered freely to all who will come, believe, and receive.

The great “I AM” who spoke from the burning bush has spoken again—this time from Galilee, from Golgotha, and from the empty tomb. And He still speaks today to every soul who will listen:

“Come to Me. Follow Me. Enter through Me. Trust Me. Believe in Me. Abide in Me. For I AM.”

A Few Less Considered Benefits Of Baptism

Gary Pollard

According to Romans 5-6 and Galatians, baptism frees us from the standard of the old law. Without grace, which we receive at baptism, our only hope for eternal life is perfectly keeping every single command. No one can do that. The law existed to show us how sinful we are, according to Romans, and we become aware of our own inadequacy compared to God’s standard. Baptism releases us from that standard. We become part of a new and far more lenient system. And no person who has genuinely been convicted by their own guilt would see that as license to sin. But it does mean that God’s forgiveness is abundant and powerful. This is yet another benefit of baptism. 

In Colossians 2, baptism gives us access to the divine and to a perfect new body. John likely wrote I John at the end of the first or beginning of the second century, some decades after the church was established. Despite probably tens or hundreds of thousands of people who had divine insight through miraculous gifts, by John’s day the nature of this new body was still unknown (I John 3.1-3). That hasn’t changed. We can make inferences from how Jesus interacted with reality and with his disciples after his resurrection. There’re some interesting and compelling aspects to what Jesus could do with this new body, but that’s a study for another time. All we know is that baptism gives us access, through Christ, to a greatly expanded range of intellectual and physical motion after the death of this body. 

Equality is something of a loaded term in this era. For most people, it’s an activism word. But scripture presents a divine equality that has nothing to do what race or sex or culture a person is: I Corinthians 12.12-13, A person has only one body, but many parts. Yes, there are many parts, but all those parts are still just one body. Christ is like that, too. Some of us are Jews and some of us are not; some of us are slaves and some of us are free. But we were all baptized to become one body through one spirit, and we all drink from the same spirit. 

Activism has tried and repeatedly failed to “level the playing field” because humans are flawed. One extreme imposes draconian overreaction, the other extreme denies its value entirely. Only God offers true unity and equality. When we’re baptized, we join a body unified by the same power responsible for creating everything we see, and everything we can’t yet see. 

Peter’s Confession (And Ours)

Neal Pollard

Caesarea Philippi makes such a dramatic backdrop for the discussion that occurs in Matthew 16. Even today, as ruins 2,000 years later, the place is imposing. Caesarea Philippi, also known in Christ’s day as Paneas because of the mythological god Pan and known today as Banias, had the cave of Pan carved out of the towering rock. It was associated with multiple cultures for multiplied centuries as a center of idolatry. How dramatic it must have been for the disciples to walk among the temples, sanctuary, grottos, and courtyards erected by Herod the Great with the natural, bedrock setting, discussing matters of such importance with their amazing teacher. On this occasion, Jesus initiates the discussion with a profound question. It was a question of identity. He asks them, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” (13).

The phrase, “Son of Man,” found 29 times in the gospel of Matthew and used every time by Jesus to refer to Himself, identifies Him in a very significant way. With this phrase, Jesus references His humanity—His implicit need of sleep (8:20), His eating and drinking (11:19), His physical death (12:40), His physical suffering (17:12), His bodily deliverance to the Jews (17:22; 20:18), and His humble service (20:28). However, it implies His Deity, because with as many references Jesus speaks of His miraculous power, His reign, His atonement, His judgment, and His second coming. For the discerning disciple, Jesus had already given them the answer. Peter, who this gospel has already demonstrated to be quick to answer (14:28; 15:15) and who would continue to be so (17:4;18:21; 19:27; 26:33,35), is the one who answers Jesus’ query. The answer is the most important confession a person could make in this life. It is the confession in yielding obedience to the Lordship of Jesus many men and women have made since the first century. 

Let us examine the confession made by Peter in Matthew 16:13-19 and observe its significance to us today. 

It was a relevant confession (13-14). The identity of Jesus was a topic of discussion at the time. People were obviously pondering the identity of Jesus. The disciples tell Jesus that public opinion held Him to either be John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets. What is especially interesting about this is that all of those men would have been dead by this time (cf. 14:1ff), and that means the people believed Him to be a man resurrected from the dead. That would be incredible, but would also seem to imply He was endorsed and even sent by God. In their puzzlement, Jesus was still the focal point of apparently significant debate at this time.

Two millennia of time have done nothing to diminish the relevance of Jesus. He is misunderstood, misrepresented, misinterpreted, and certainly misidentified, but He is still pertinent to the lives of mankind all over the globe. The fact that most miss Who He really is, as they did when He walked the earth, does not negate His relevancy. Skeptics and agnostics try to dismiss Him, yet still discuss Him. The wicked may blaspheme and profane Him, in anger and jest, yet still discuss Him. Those in religious error, with spiritual blinders on, discuss Him. Faithful disciples build their lives completely around Him.  To ascertain His identity marks the height of relevancy.

It was a personal confession (15). Despite the common misperception of Him, Jesus gives His disciples the chance to get it right. Notice that He does so by asking, ““But who do you say that I am?” (15). Regardless of what the Jews said, the pagans said, or the multitude said, Jesus wants these men to answer this. The “you” is plural, but it seems restricted to only His disciples walking with and listening to Him. From Peter’s answer, we can see that the answer is even more specific. Peter, the individual disciple, had to give an answer to the question. 

Jesus wants the world to be won over to Him. But, His Word reveals the individual accountability each of us has to Him as we live our lives on the earth. Earlier in the gospel, He says, ““Therefore everyone who confesses Me before men, I will also confess him before My Father who is in heaven. But whoever denies Me before men, I will also deny him before My Father who is in heaven” (10:32-33). The “everyone” and the “whoever” suggests the personal nature of the confession each one must have to be eternally accepted by the Father. The church is made up of individuals who wrestled with and came to a proper conclusion about who Jesus is.

It was an accurate confession (16).  When Peter gives his answer, it is the right one. Peter confesses, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Satan knew that this is who Jesus is (4:3,6). The demons knew it, too (8:29). The high priest at His arrest and the passers by at His crucifixion demonstrated their unbelief in this fact (26:63; 27:40), while the Gentile soldiers confessed it (27:54). This confession was a confession of the complete Deity of Jesus. It also contained the idea that Jesus is the Messiah, as He is called in Matthew’s genealogical record (1:1,16-17) . Messiah is the Hebrew designation (Daniel 9:25-26) for Christ, from a Greek word meaning, generally, “one who has been anointed” (Louw-Nida 542), and, specifically, “Fulfiller of Israelite expectation of a deliverer, the Anointed One, the Messiah, the Christ” (BDAG  1091).  In this sense, other Old Testament passages foretold of His coming (see Psalm 2:2). Peter is saying, in essence, “I believe You are the One prophesied of in the Old Testament as the Divine Deliverer.” While He and the others did not fully grasp the truth Peter spoke, it could not have been more accurate. 

It was a blessed confession (17-19). After Peter’s confession, Jesus responds. He says that Peter is “blessed,” a word Matthew records Jesus using 16 times in this gospel. Each time, the word seems to be used in the sense of something more than mere happiness or joy, though those no doubt are the result of being deemed blessed by God. In fact, everywhere in this gospel that someone is called blessed, there is some blessing or privilege that follows.

  • Receiving the kingdom of heaven (5:3).
  • Being comforted (5:4).
  • Inheriting the earth (5:5).
  • Being filled (5:6).
  • Obtaining mercy (5:7).
  • Seeing God (5:8).
  • Being called sons of God (5:9).
  • Being healed (11:7). 
  • Seeing and hearing (13:16).
  • Being rewarded (24:46; 25:34). 

What are the blessings for Peter?  First, there is heavenly knowledge (17). He understands a truth that did not originate with men, but with God. Second, there was delightful revelation (18). He learns that because Jesus is the anointed One and the Son of God, Jesus would build the church on the foundation of His identity. Third, there is tremendous responsibility (19). Peter is told he will have the task of using the keys—the fact of Jesus’ identity and authority—to unlock the door to let Jews (Acts 2) and Gentiles (Acts 10) into the church of Christ. 

   Whenever anyone follows the instructions first preached by Peter on how to get into the church, they benefit from the same blessings. They accept this heavenly knowledge of who Jesus is. They get to be a part of the unique church that belongs to Jesus. Then, they accept the responsibility to share with others the things Jesus has already bound and loosed in heaven. A life of confessing Christ is the cornerstone to a life with God’s approval, a blessedness unmatched by anything else. 

That even Peter did not grasp the profundity of his confession is clear from His rebuke of the Christ, the Son of the living God shortly after his confession (16:22). Yet, eventually, Peter comes to understand the powerful implications of the confession he makes in Matthew 16:18. He spreads it to thousands of others, who helped to populate and grow that church. As we read his confession today, Peter continues to influence us to imitate his great faith and make the good confession with our lives. May we never be ashamed to own our Lord or defend His cause!

Works Cited

Arndt, William, Frederick W. Danker, et al. A Greek-English lexicon of the New Testament and other early Christian literature 2000 : 1091. Print.

 Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene Albert Nida. Greek-English lexicon of the New Testament: based on semantic domains 1996 : 542. Print.

The Seven “I AM” Declarations: Jesus Reveals Himself (Part 1 of 2)

Brent Pollard

When Jesus said “I AM,” He opened a door into divinity. God had told Moses His name: “I AM WHO I AM” (Exodus 3.14). That name—stark, eternal—declared self-existence and sovereign being. Centuries later, a carpenter from Nazareth used the same formula seven times in John’s Gospel.

John recorded these statements with a clear and deliberate purpose: to demonstrate that each “I AM” declaration is a signpost affirming both the divine identity and mission of Christ. Rather than serving as random metaphors, these statements specifically articulate how Jesus meets fundamental human needs and discloses what He offers to believers. Together, they form the thesis of John’s Gospel by answering the central question about Jesus’ true identity.

Let us walk through these seven declarations, not as scholars cataloguing data but as souls hungry for the Bread of Life, stumbling in darkness and desperate for Light.

The Bread of Life (John 6.35, 48, 51)

“I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me will not hunger, and he who believes in Me will never thirst.”

The multitudes had just eaten their fill of fish and barley loaves. They wanted Jesus as a permanent meal ticket, another Moses who would give daily manna. But Jesus refused to be seen as a mere provider of bread that perishes. He called Himself the true bread from heaven—the source that fills not the stomach but the soul, meeting our deepest need.

We are born hungry for purpose, acceptance, and to fill a God-shaped void. We try to satisfy this hunger with achievements and pleasures. Yet earthly bread leaves us hungry again. Christ alone satisfies because He is life. To come to Him ends our soul’s restlessness.

The Light of the World (John 8.12; 9.5)

“I am the light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life.”

Picture Jerusalem during the Feast of Tabernacles, its massive golden lamps blazing in the temple courts, commemorating the pillar of fire that led Israel through the wilderness. Against that backdrop, Jesus makes His audacious claim: I am the true Light.

Darkness in Scripture is never neutral. It represents sin’s blindness, ignorance’s confusion, and the deep despair that comes from separation from God. To walk in darkness means to lack moral direction, to be unable to see or know God, and to experience the guilt and shame that result from this separation.

But Jesus does not merely illuminate the path—He is the path. He does not simply reveal truth—He is truth embodied. When we follow Him, we step out of the shadow of death into the light of life. We see clearly, perhaps for the first time, who God is, who we are, and what life is meant to be.

The Door (John 10.7, 9)

“I am the door; if anyone enters through Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture.”

In the ancient world, a shepherd led his flock into a walled enclosure each night. There was a single opening—no gate, just an entrance. The shepherd would lie across it, making his body the door, a living barrier. No wolf could enter without facing him, and no sheep could slip out unseen. The shepherd as “door” meant protection and the only path to safety.

Jesus claims to be the only true entrance into God’s safety. No one climbs over by achievement. No one sneaks in with rituals. There is no other entrance called “good intentions” or “sincere beliefs.”

The exclusivity of the Door troubles our pluralistic age, but it ought to comfort our souls. For if Jesus is the Door, we know exactly where to enter. We are not left to guess which of a thousand paths might lead to God. We need not wonder whether our efforts are enough. The Door stands open. The Shepherd calls. When we enter through Him, we are saved.

The Good Shepherd (John 10.11, 14)

“I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep.”

Israel had sung of the Lord as their Shepherd in Psalm 23. The prophets had condemned Israel’s leaders as faithless shepherds who scattered the flock. Now Jesus claims the title for Himself—and defines it by the cross.

A hired hand flees danger. A false shepherd uses sheep. The Good Shepherd knows His sheep, calls them by name, and lays down His life. The cross was not a tragedy; it was the Shepherd’s choice for His flock.

This is love without parallel. This is commitment beyond measure. And this is why we can trust Him even as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Our Shepherd has already been there—and He has conquered it.

In our next article, we will explore the final three “I AM” declarations, where Jesus reveals Himself as the answer to our deepest fears, our greatest confusion, and our spiritual fruitlessness.

Be Reconciled

Carl Pollard

Some things are hard to put back together once they’re broken. A cracked phone screen never feels the same. A bent fishing hook won’t hold like it once did. And a fractured relationship, especially one hurt by betrayal or deep pain, can feel impossible to restore. We live in a world where “cutting people off” is often celebrated as self-care. But Scripture introduces us to a word that runs against our instincts: reconciliation.

Reconciliation is not the same as avoidance, denial, or pretending nothing happened. Biblically, reconciliation is the restoration of what was broken. And like many things in life, reconciliation only works when the right elements are brought together. Mix pride with reconciliation, and it fails. Mix bitterness with reconciliation, and it becomes poisonous. But when reconciliation is mixed with humility, repentance, and grace, something powerful happens.

Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:18–19 that “all things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ.” Notice the direction. We did not reconcile ourselves to God; God took the initiative. While we were still sinners (Romans 5:10), Christ died for us. That truth sets the standard for how reconciliation works among people. It always begins with grace, not merit.

In the first century, reconciliation was not theoretical for Christians, it was costly. Jews and Gentiles, divided by centuries of hostility, were now being called “one body” in Christ (Ephesians 2:14–16). Paul says that Christ “destroyed the barrier” and made peace through the cross. The cross didn’t ignore sin; it dealt with it fully. True reconciliation never minimizes wrong, it addresses it through truth and sacrifice. 

This is where we often struggle. We want peace without repentance, unity without humility, and forgiveness without discomfort. But biblical reconciliation requires a change of heart. Jesus teaches that if your brother sins, there must be confrontation (Matthew 18:15). Reconciliation doesn’t mean enabling sin; it means pursuing restoration God’s way.

As Christians, we are not only reconciled people, we are entrusted with the “ministry of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5:18). That means our words, attitudes, and actions should reflect the God who restored us. Harboring resentment while claiming fellowship with God is a contradiction (1 John 4:20).

Reconciliation is not easy. It costs pride. It demands forgiveness. Sometimes it requires patience and boundaries. But it is always worth it, because it mirrors the gospel itself. Let us be careful to practice reconciliation the way God designed it, rooted in truth, powered by grace, and aimed at restoration.

Beyond Doomscrolling: How God Equips Us to Slay Giants

Brent Pollard

The Temptation to Feed on Fear

In this high-stakes election year, with our nation more tribalized than perhaps any time in recent memory, the core issue we face is a widespread habit: “doomscrolling.” This compulsive, endless consumption of negative news and distressing online content feeds anxiety, nurtures fear, and starves the soul of hope. First popularized during the COVID-19 pandemic, doomscrolling amounts to voluntary imprisonment in a cell of manufactured despair. To resist fear and reclaim perspective, we must rely on faith, deliberate thought, and God’s Word—tools that equip us for the challenges and Goliaths of our time.

The Christian response to such darkness must be light. We must make Philippians 4.6-8 not merely familiar, but our constant companion. Through prayer, we banish anxiety; through deliberate focus on what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, and excellent, we reclaim our thoughts from the enemy’s propaganda machine. Where the world offers an endless stream of catastrophe, God offers peace that surpasses understanding (Philippians 4.7).

Light-Scrolling and Ancient Warfare

It was through such positive scrolling—what we might call “light-scrolling”—that I encountered a video by someone calling himself “The Nerdy Christian.” His observation about David and Goliath arrested my attention and challenged assumptions I had carried for years. Like many, I had viewed this famous contest as ending in David’s victory solely through God’s direct intervention. Yet history reveals a more nuanced truth, making the story even richer.

The sling was no child’s toy. It was among the most fearsome weapons of the ancient world—a fact the Romans learned to their horror. When Hannibal crossed the Alps with his war elephants and stood at Rome’s gates, he brought 2,000 slingers whose skill was legendary. At the Battle of Cannae, one of Rome’s most devastating defeats, a slinger’s stone struck the consul Lucius Aemilius Paullus, inflicting wounds that led to his death. The mighty Republic that would eventually rule the Mediterranean nearly fell before the whirring death delivered by stones and leather straps.

The Insult Was Not in the Weapon

When Goliath taunted David, his words dripped with contempt—but not contempt for the sling itself. “Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks?” (1 Samuel 17.43 NASB). The sting lay not in dismissing the weapon, but in the absurdity of a shepherd boy, dressed in farm clothes and carrying pastoral tools, presuming to face a champion warrior. A proper opponent would bear the armor and weapons Saul had attempted to strap onto David’s young frame (1 Samuel 17.38-39). To Goliath, it was as if someone had sent a farmhand with a crook to chase off a trained predator.

But what the giant in his arrogance failed to perceive, David understood with crystalline clarity: God had been preparing him for this moment through every ordinary day he had spent in the fields.

The Physics of Faith

Slingers were crucial to the armies of the ancient Near East, Greece, and Rome. Their effectiveness was rooted in simple physics—the high kinetic energy produced by rotational motion and release velocity. When 1 Samuel 17.49 describes the stone sinking into Goliath’s forehead, it aligns perfectly with natural laws. The stone would have fractured the giant’s skull, perhaps punching clear through to lodge itself in the wound. This created the impression of “sinking” into the flesh.

What the armored Goliath seems to have overlooked was the relative thinness of skin and bone protecting the brain. The practiced David, who had spent years perfecting his aim against predators, knew precisely where to deliver the lethal blow. He didn’t need God to bend the laws of nature. God had already woven into creation the very physics that would bring down the blasphemer.

Does this rob the story of its wonder? Far from it. This understanding actually deepens our appreciation for how God works.

Providence in the Pasture

Though God did not need to perform a supernatural miracle at the moment of combat, His providence had followed David throughout his youth like a shepherd follows his flock. That providence established a pattern, a precedent upon which faith could firmly stand. As David himself declared before the king, God had given him strength to defeat lions and bears that threatened his sheep (1 Samuel 17.34-37). The same covenant-keeping God who delivered him from those fierce beasts would deliver him from this uncircumcised Philistine who dared mock the living God and His people.

Here we glimpse a profound truth about divine preparation: God uses the mundane to equip us for the momentous. David’s years in obscurity, mastering a weapon most would consider beneath a warrior’s dignity, became the very foundation for his greatest victory. His faithfulness in small things—protecting defenseless sheep from predators—prepared him for great things. He protected defenseless Israel from the champion of Gath.

More Than the Mundane

The Nerdy Christian rightly observed that God will use the ordinary experiences of our lives to equip us for extraordinary callings. Yet we must not stop there. Otherwise, we truncate the full counsel of Scripture. God has not limited Himself to using only the mundane to prepare His people for battle.

Consider Paul’s instruction to Timothy: “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3.16-17 NASB). God has given us His very words—not merely as historical record or moral guideline, but as comprehensive equipment for “every good work.” Peter echoes this truth when he reminds us that God’s divine power “has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness, through the true knowledge of Him” (2 Peter 1.3 NASB). The context reveals that this knowledge comes through the Gospel itself.

And what is this Gospel? Paul declares it to be “the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes” (Romans 1.16 NASB). The Greek word translated “power” isdunamis (δύναμις)—the very word from which Alfred Nobel derived the name for his explosive invention: dynamite.

Yes, the Gospel is God’s dynamite.

Weapons Divinely Powerful

Listen to how Paul describes this explosive power that God places in our hands: “For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh, for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses. We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ” (2 Corinthians 10.3-5 NASB).

Scripture itself is the sword of the Spirit (Ephesians 6.17), sharper than any two-edged blade. It pierces to the division of soul and spirit, discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart (Hebrews 4.12). Where David carried five smooth stones from the brook, we carry the eternal Word that spoke worlds into existence. Where David’s sling could fell one giant, God’s Word can topple every fortress of falsehood that exalts itself against truth.

Equipped for Every Giant

The giants we face today seldom wear bronze armor or carry spears like weaver’s beams. They come disguised as anxiety scrolling through our feeds. They come in the form of speculations that undermine faith, as lofty arguments against the knowledge of God. They appear in the culture’s contempt for biblical truth, in our own wavering doubts, in the thousand small compromises that would diminish our devotion.

But God has equipped us to face them all. Through the mundane experiences of life, He builds practical skills in us. He builds tested faith. Through the profound truth of His Word, He arms us with weapons divinely powerful. Through the Gospel’s explosive force, He gives us everything pertaining to life and godliness.

The question is never whether God has equipped us. The question is whether we will, like David, step forward in faith with the tools He has provided. Refuse the ill-fitting armor of human wisdom. Trust instead in the name of the Lord of hosts whom we serve (1 Samuel 17.45).

The Witness of Preparation

When we immerse ourselves in Scripture daily, its truth shapes our thoughts and guides our steps. Something remarkable happens. We discover we can indeed slay every evil giant we face. As we grow deeper in a relationship with our Savior, others will take note—just as the religious leaders noticed about the apostles—that we have been with Jesus (Acts 4.13).

This is God’s way: to prepare us through providence, equip us through His Word, and empower us through His Spirit. He takes shepherd boys and makes them giant-slayers. He takes fishermen and makes them fishers of men. He takes ordinary believers and uses them to turn the world upside down (Acts 17.6).

The giants still taunt. The enemy still rages. But we need not doomscroll through catalogs of catastrophe, rehearsing reasons for despair. Instead, let us take up the weapons God has forged for us—both the practical skills refined through faithful living and the spiritual sword that is His eternal Word. Let us step forward, not in our own strength, but in the name of the God who has covenanted with His people. And let us remember: the battle belongs to the Lord (1 Samuel 17.47). He uses the weak things of this world to shame the strong, that no flesh should glory in His presence (1 Corinthians 1.27-29).

In Christ, we are more than conquerors (Romans 8.37). Every giant will fall. When we resist the culture of fear and trust in the practical skills God builds in us and the explosive power of His Word, we are equipped for every challenge. In this way, the world will know that there is a God in spiritual Israel (1 Samuel 17.46; Romans 9.6-8).

IF YOU DON’T THINK IT’S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR 

Dale Pollard

Scripture never pretends that sadness or despair are imaginary. Instead, it addresses the moments when the heart feels worn down, lonely, or overwhelmed. In fact, it’s a pretty common theme in the Bible. Here are just three verses/sections in particular that show how the Bible approaches sorrow—not with denial, but with honesty. Most importantly, it provides us with unmatched hope. 

Psalm 42:11 — “Why are you cast down, O my soul?”

The psalmist questions his own despair in a public way: “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God.” This verse hits hard in a personal way because it shows someone talking to his own heart. Sadness should be acknowledged, not tucked away or buried as if to fool ourselves and others that it doesn’t exist. Maybe some need the reminder that with God, depression doesn’t get the final word. The psalmist reminds himself that feelings can lie, and that hope must sometimes be chosen before it is felt.

1 Kings 19:4–8 — Elijah’s exhaustion, not condemnation

After a great spiritual victory, Elijah collapses into despair and asks to die. God’s response is not a lecture—but rest, food, and care. Before addressing Elijah’s fears, God tends to his physical and emotional exhaustion. This passage reminds us that depression is sometimes tied to fatigue, fear, or isolation. God meets people where they are, not where they think they should be. 

Matthew 11:28 — “Come to Me… and I will give you rest”

Jesus is talking directly to the worn-down and tuckered out crowd: 

“Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” 

Notice how Jesus doesn’t demand strength first? He invites the weary as they are. This verse sort of reframes how some may think of healing—not self-repair, but coming to Someone who carries what we can’t.

Together, these verses show a consistent truth— sadness is not a spiritual failure. 

The Bible gives permission to be honest, rest easy, and place our hope somewhere stronger than on the shoulders of our own emotions. Depression may darken the moment, but Scripture (constantly) insists that it does not define the ending.

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

Brent Pollard

Understanding Divine Timing in Your Spiritual Growth

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

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

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

Why Spiritual Maturity Cannot Be Rushed

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

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

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

Growing in Knowledge: When Understanding Deepens Through Experience

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

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

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

Character Formation: How God Refines Us Through Failure

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

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

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

God’s Preparation Has Purpose: Your Growth Blesses Others

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

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

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

From Earth to Eternity: Faithfulness Now Prepares Us for Heaven

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Desiring God

Carl Pollard

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

  • Psalm 37:4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whom have I in heaven but you? 

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

My flesh and my heart may fail, 

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

  • Psalm 73:25–26

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book II, Ch. 4.2)

Gary Pollard

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

It would take too long to gather every passage in the Gospels showing that the God of the Law and the God of the Gospel are one and the same. We’ll briefly look at the Acts of the Apostles. There, Stephen and the other apostles prayed to the God who made the sky and earth, who spoke through the prophets, and who is called “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” This was the same God who brought Israel out of Egypt. These compel us to have faith in the Creator and cultivate love for him in anyone who learns to think of him appropriately.

This fits with Jesus’s own teaching. When he was asked which commandment in the Law is greatest, he answered, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind. And the second is like it: love your neighbor as yourself.” Then he added, “On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” If he was training someone to become his disciple, why would he compel them to love the God of the Law, unless he recognized that God as the one true God?

But suppose, despite all these clear indications, someone insists that Jesus was speaking about some other, unknown God when he said, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart…” In that case, how could Jesus reasonably say that “the Law and the Prophets” depend on these two commandments? If the Law and the Prophets truly come from the Creator—as even the opponents admit—how could they depend on commandments that come from a different God? What is foreign to him cannot be said to hang on him.

Paul’s own words make this point even more clearly. When he writes, “I thank my God, whom I serve from my ancestors with a pure conscience,” he shows that he did not turn to a new or foreign deity when he came to Christ. Who are Paul’s ancestors, if not those about whom he says, “Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I”? The opening of Romans makes the same point for anyone who understands Paul’s language. He begins with, “Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, which he promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy Scriptures, concerning his Son, who was born from the seed of David according to the flesh and appointed Son of God in power by his resurrection…” This proves that the God Paul preached is the same God who spoke long ago through the prophets and promised the coming of Christ.

Paul also interprets the Law in ways that reveal its divine purpose for the church. When he quoted the command, “Do not muzzle the ox that is treading out the grain,” he asked, “Does God care about the ox, or was this written for our sake?” And he answered, “It was written to to benefit us,” meaning that the God who gave the Law gave it for the benefit of the apostles who preach the gospel. Elsewhere Paul embraces the promises attached to the Law, saying, “Honor your father and mother, which is the first commandment with a promise: that it may go well with you, and that you may live long on the land the Lord your God gives you.” By this he clearly showed that the Law, its God, and the promises attached to it are good in his sight.

Immortality

Carl Pollard

Immortality

“the ability to live forever, eternal life.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come, Lord Jesus.

The Quiet Sin That Still Shouts on Black Friday

Brent Pollard

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

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

Understanding Covetousness in a Consumer Culture

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

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

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

The Warning of Jesus: “Take Heed and Beware”

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

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

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

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

Three Spiritual Dangers of Covetousness

Covetousness Normalizes Discontent

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

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

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

Covetousness Trains Us to Measure Worth by Possessions

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

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

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

Covetousness Weakens Our Gratitude

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

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

Fighting Covetousness With Eternal Treasure

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

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

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

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

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

Practical Steps to Guard Against Covetousness

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Greatest Bargain Ever Offered

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

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

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

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

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

Did Jesus Go to Hell? Clearing Up a Common Misunderstanding

Brent Pollard

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

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

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

The Root of the Confusion: Words Matter

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

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

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

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

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

The Apostles’ Creed and Historical Development

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

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

Medieval Imagination and the “Harrowing of Hell”

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

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

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

What About 1 Peter 3.19–20?

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

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

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

Where Did Jesus Actually Go?

Scripture answers this question with beautiful simplicity:

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

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

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

Why This Matters

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

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

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

Conclusion: Death Conquered, Not Hell Invaded

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

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

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

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

The Comfort Of Complacency

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The I AM

Dale Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

Crucifying The Flesh

Being a follower of Christ demands constant self-examination. Each day, we wake up asking, “What do I need to work on today?” One persistent battle we face is the flesh, our sinful nature that pulls us off track, like that wobbly Walmart shopping cart wheel that requires constant correction.

Carl Pollard

Being a follower of Christ demands constant self-examination. Each day, we wake up asking, “What do I need to work on today?” One persistent battle we face is the flesh, our sinful nature that pulls us off track, like that wobbly Walmart shopping cart wheel that requires constant correction. Galatians 5:24 says, “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.” But what does it mean to crucify the flesh, and how do we live it out in a world brimming with temptation?

In Galatians 5, Paul describes the flesh not as our physical bodies but as our sinful desires that rebel against God. Galatians 5:17 explains, “The flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; they are contrary to one another.” The flesh urges us to lash out in anger, indulge in lust, gossip, or hold grudges. Paul lists its acts: sexual immorality, hatred, jealousy, rage, selfish ambition (Galatians 5:19-21). These are symptoms of a heart not fully surrendered to God. The flesh promises satisfaction but delivers emptiness, chaining us to sin. Recognizing this enemy within is the first step to living for Christ.

Crucifixion, in Roman times, was a brutal, final punishment. Paul’s use of this term signals a decisive, no-turning-back commitment to put sinful desires to death. Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily” (Luke 9:23). This daily choice means saying no to pride, bitterness, or greed and yes to humility, forgiveness, and generosity.

The key to crucifying the flesh lies in belonging to Christ. When we surrender to Him, we’re united in His death and resurrection (Romans 6:5-6). His victory over sin becomes ours, and His Spirit empowers us to resist temptation. This is why Paul confidently states we “have crucified” the flesh, a present reality for Christians. Living like we belong to Jesus means choosing the Spirit daily, allowing it to produce love, joy, peace, and other fruits (Galatians 5:22-23) in our lives.

To crucify the flesh, start with confession and repentance, naming and turning from sin (1 John 1:9). Rely on the Spirit through prayer and God’s Word. Choose daily obedience, saying no to temptation and yes to love. Crucifying the flesh isn’t restriction, it’s liberation, freeing us to run the race God has set before us. What needs to be nailed to the cross today? Lay it at Jesus’ feet and live the life He promised.

When Obedience Condemns

Noah did not speak his condemnation; he delivered it with a hammer.

Brent Pollard

“By this he condemned the world…” (Hebrews 11.7 ESV)

Noah did not speak his condemnation; he delivered it with a hammer.

The Paradox of Faithful Action

God warned Noah of what had never happened. No flood had come, maybe not even rain, but Noah believed. Here lies the essence of faith: trusting God’s word over visible evidence. Faith always looks foolish to those who measure reality by sight alone.

But Noah did more than believe—he obeyed. He built when building made no sense. For perhaps a century, every timber he shaped was a sermon, every nail he drove was a declaration: God has spoken, judgment is coming, salvation requires obedience.

Faith and obedience cannot be separated. You cannot say you trust God while ignoring what He commands. Abel offered, Abraham went, Moses led, and Noah built. Faith provides the motive; obedience supplies the evidence.

The Silent Sermon

How did Noah condemn the world? Although he was a preacher of righteousness (2 Peter 2.25), he didn’t have to preach fire and brimstone. Simply living differently —a lifestyle that caused him to gain God’s favor (Genesis 6.8) —was enough.

His obedience proved a devastating truth: men can do what God asks. Every person who watched Noah work and turned away chose their fate. They had a living demonstration that obedience was possible. Their rejection was therefore inexcusable.

Light does not condemn through accusation but through illumination (Ephesians 5.11-14). It simply shines, and darkness is exposed. Noah’s righteousness revealed his generation’s corruption. His faith validated God’s warnings and justified God’s judgment.

People often find holy living difficult to accept because it eliminates all justifications for their actions.

The Standard That Stands

The principle persists. Our world still measures itself by its own broken standards. It expresses surprise that God’s children refuse to join in sinful deeds (1 Peter 4.4). It ridicules divine authority (Jude 1.8) and promotes independence from God.

But when believers walk in obedience—when they love enemies, forgive debts, remain pure, speak truth, sacrifice comfort—they become living witnesses that God’s way works (Matthew 5.13-16). The faithful need not condemn with words. Their transformed lives speak louder (see 1 Corinthians 4.20).

Your obedience declares to the world: “It can be done. God’s commands are not impossible. Your disobedience is a choice.”

Obedience isn’t about pride; it’s about sharing a testimony. It’s not about judging others from a position of superiority, but rather facing the reality of the situation head-on.

The Reward of Response

Noah “became an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith.” His obedience saved his household—not because works earn salvation, but because faith receives grace on God’s terms.

We can relate to this as well. When we obey the gospel by believing, repenting, confessing Christ, and being baptized, we do not earn salvation through our actions; instead, we accept the gift. The very act that saves us sets us apart. By faith we walk differently, and by walking differently, we expose the world’s rebellion.

God’s sovereignty ordains both the gift and the response. He saves through obedient faith because it pleases Him to do so.

The Echo Continues

Noah’s hammer still sounds across the ages. Each blow proclaimed that faith builds while others mock, that obedience acts while others doubt.

Every soul who moves “with godly fear” becomes an unwitting judge—not through malice but through faithful contrast. The world may scoff, but God saves through obedient faith.

Your life is either a sermon or a silence. Which will it be?

We are still constructing the ark. The rain continues to pour down. And God saves those who believe in Him and choose to obey.

Standing In The Gap

Prayer is a divine weapon, a sacred act that Satan dreads when wielded by faithful Christians. In the church, prayer is God’s design to weave us into a tight-knit community, binding us closer than proximity ever could. James 5:16 says, “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” Intercessory prayer, lifting others before God’s throne, is a duty and privilege that transforms both the pray-er and the prayed-for.

Carl Pollard

Prayer is a divine weapon, a sacred act that Satan dreads when wielded by faithful Christians. In the church, prayer is God’s design to weave us into a tight-knit community, binding us closer than proximity ever could. James 5:16 says, “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” Intercessory prayer, lifting others before God’s throne, is a duty and privilege that transforms both the pray-er and the prayed-for.

Why pray for each other? Scripture commands it. Matthew 5:44 urges us to pray even for enemies, fulfilling the call to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). Pray for others the way you’d pray for yourself! Colossians 1:9 Paul models ceaseless prayer for others’ spiritual growth, while Galatians 6:2 frames intercession as bearing one another’s burdens, fulfilling Christ’s law. Hebrews 10:24–25 reminds us that prayer knits the church together, spurring love and good deeds. Yet, how often do our prayers default to vague “bless them” pleas or focus solely on physical needs? Intentional intercession digs deeper, aligning with God’s will.

Biblical heroes show us this. Abraham pleaded for Sodom’s salvation (Genesis 18:22–33), mirroring God’s heart for the wicked to turn and live (Ezekiel 33:11). Moses stood in the gap for idolatrous Israel, offering his life to secure their forgiveness (Exodus 32:11–14, 31–32; Psalm 106:23). Jesus, in His High Priestly Prayer (John 17:1–26), interceded for His disciples’ protection, sanctification, and unity, modeling prayers for eternal impact. Paul’s prayers for the churches (Ephesians 1:15–23; Colossians 1:9–12) prioritized spiritual wisdom and strength over physical circumstances.

To pray intentionally, embrace three keys. First, keep God’s bigger story in mind. While praying for safety or healing is valid, God often uses trials to shape us into Christ’s image (Romans 8:28–29; James 1:2–4). Like Jesus in Luke 22:42, balance requests for relief with surrender to God’s will, praying for faithfulness through suffering. Second, use biblical models to form your prayers. The Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9–13) prioritizes God’s will and provision, while Paul’s prayers (Ephesians 3:16–17) seek spiritual depth. Third, pray specifically and with persistence, as 1 John 5:14–15 assures that prayers aligned with God’s will are heard.

Intercessory prayer is a sacrificial act of love, a call to stand in the gap for others, as Moses did, or to plead for unity, as Jesus did. It’s a rebellion against Satan’s schemes, a bridge to connect our church, and a path to spiritual maturity. So, who are you praying for today? Let’s commit to intentional, fervent intercession, trusting God to work mightily through our prayers.

Doing Hard Things Harder

Did you see where a Polish man made history by becoming the first person to ski down Mount Everest in Nepal without using an oxygen tank? On September 27, 2025, 37-year-old Andrzej Bargiel stood at almost 30,000 above sea level (nearly six miles high!) and began his descent following…

Neal Pollard

Doing Hard Things Harder

Neal Pollard

Did you see where a Polish man made history by becoming the first person to ski down Mount Everest in Nepal without using an oxygen tank? On September 27, 2025, 37-year-old Andrzej Bargiel stood at almost 30,000 above sea level (nearly six miles high!) and began his descent following “16 grueling hours moving through the death zone (above 8,000 m) without bottled oxygen. After only a brief moment on the top of the world, he clipped into his skis and dropped into his historic descent, racing the setting sun” (usatoday.com). No ropes or ladders, only skis! This was his third attempt, and this time was the charm. Not surprisingly, his sports partner was Red Bull!

He defied internal and external dangers aplenty, but his goal was so important that he ran every risk. He did something close to seemingly impossible! He took a risk to have his name remembered in the record books of man.

Writing from prison, Paul writes about what he was willing to do “for the sake of Christ” (Phil. 3:7). He says, “I have counted as loss whatever things were gain to me” (8). “I have suffered the loss of all things” (8). “I press on so that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus” (12). “I press on toward the mark” (14). These were hard things!

He was put in a disadvantageous position for Jesus. He “suffer the loss of something which [he] had previously possessed, with the implication that the loss involves considerable hardship or suffering” (Louw-Nida, 565). He “moved rapidly and decisively toward an objective” (BDAG, 254), namely the goal of “the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (14). 

He was willing to let go of human accolades and achievements (Phil. 3:4-7). He wanted something more and better. He was willing to stretch himself to the limit to achieve this goal. And he did it at full tilt!

What do you want more than anything in the world? What high and lofty goals do you have? You can pour your energy into some physical, financial, intellectual, or cultural feat, but make sure that your devote your greatest effort into something that will bode well for eternity. Pursue heavenly goals with gusto and maximum effort! You may not be in the annals of this world, but you will surely make Heaven’s Hall of Fame! 

The Truth

The most urgent question anyone can ask is, “What must I do to be saved?” Its answer determines your eternal destiny. Sadly, many people have believed false promises: good deeds, or a quick prayer, but Scripture speaks with unwavering clarity.

Carl Pollard 

The most urgent question anyone can ask is, “What must I do to be saved?” Its answer determines your eternal destiny. Sadly, many people have believed false promises: good deeds, or a quick prayer, but Scripture speaks with unwavering clarity. Baptism is God’s non-negotiable command for salvation, the moment sins are washed away and we call on Jesus’ name. Not a ritual or optional act, baptism is where God’s grace meets our obedience. This undeniable truth is seen in Paul, Peter, and Pentecost. 

Paul’s conversion in Acts 9, 22, and 26 sets the standard. As Saul, he hunted Christians, dragging them to punishment. On the road to Damascus, Jesus blinds him with a vision (Acts 9:3–6), telling him to wait in the city. Ananias finds Saul praying (Acts 9:11), but neither seeing Jesus, believing, or fasting for three days removed his sins. Acts 22:16 is unmistakable: Ananias commands, “And now why do you wait? Rise and be baptized and wash away your sins, calling on his name.” Paul’s sins stayed until baptism, not his vision, faith, prayers or belief took away his sins. This breaks the lie of “faith alone.” Baptism is God’s chosen moment for forgiveness, where Paul’s obedience met divine grace.

Peter leaves no doubt in 1 Peter 3:21: “Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ.” Linking baptism to Noah’s flood, Peter says it saves, not by washing skin, but as our plea to God for forgiveness, empowered by Christ’s resurrection. Romans 6:3–4 confirms baptism is where we die to sin, are buried with Jesus, and rise to new life. To reject baptism is to reject God’s plan for salvation.

On Pentecost, Acts 2:38 shows the church’s birth. Peter’s sermon convicts the crowd for crucifying Jesus, and they cry, “What shall we do?” Peter’s answer is absolute: “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” That day, 3,000 were baptized, added to the church (Acts 2:41). Baptism wasn’t a later gesture, it was where forgiveness and the Spirit were received, God’s ordained step for salvation.

Scripture’s pattern is simple: Paul’s sins were washed away in baptism (Acts 22:16), Peter says baptism saves (1 Peter 3:21), and Pentecost links it to forgiveness (Acts 2:38). Mark 16:16 Jesus says, “Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved.” Acts 8:36–38 shows the eunuch baptized immediately upon belief. No “sinner’s prayer” exists in Scripture, salvation requires hearing the gospel (Romans 10:17), believing Jesus is Lord (John 8:24), repenting (Luke 13:3), confessing His name (Romans 10:9–10), and being baptized. The world’s claim that baptism is optional is a lie; God’s Word demands it.

If you haven’t been baptized for the forgiveness of your sins, your soul is at stake. Don’t delay, eternity hangs in the balance. That conviction in your heart is God’s call to obey. Repent and be baptized now before it’s too late. If you’re in Christ, proclaim this truth to others. Share it with loved ones, study with them, and lead them to Jesus. Baptism is God’s command to enter His family. Will you obey His Word today?