A PROVEN RECIPE FOR PEACE

Gary Pollard

Peace conjures a number of different images in our minds; from hippies to nature’s beauty to inner calm to lack of anxiety. Nearly every group of people in the world craves peace – no rational human being wants to live in constant upheaval. We all want to have peace, but our world somehow is still getting worse and worse. Why is this? The prince of this world is not a being who desires peace (II Corinthians 4.4; Ephesians 2.2; John 12.31). His very existence is dedicated to bringing down anyone who believes in God (I Peter 5:8) and he has no care or concern for the fate or well-being of anyone on this earth. Total, lasting world peace will never be possible as long as time continues (see Romans 8.18-25: sin caused the earth to be subjected to futility). 

Total, lasting world peace may not be possible in this life, but this does not mean the world cannot experience any peace at all. How can we experience peace in our lives? 

Firstly, it has to come from us. The world will never act in a way that brings peace. Anytime the world wishes to better its conditions, it incites civil unrest, riots, protests, and other not-very-peaceful behaviors. Christians, however, are called to be different. I Timothy 2.1ff tells us that praying to God on behalf of all men, for kings, and all who are in authority will allow us to lead quiet and tranquil lives in all godliness and dignity. We can have peace by being obedient to government authorities – even if we do not agree with them politically – because God put them in place (Romans 13). If we want peace, we have to show that peace by how we live. Since man is naturally attracted to peace, our quiet, godly lives will draw others to Christ. 

Secondly, even if our world is in chaos we can have inner peace. Philippians was written to break up a nasty fight between Euodia and Syntyche. To have the “peace beyond what we can understand,” they had to rejoice in the Lord, be reasonable, not be anxious, and reach out to God for their every need. The same applies to us today! Do we get our joy from God or from worldly pursuits? Are we worried about meeting personal needs or do we rely on God (see Phil. 4.19; Matt. 6.25)? Do we try to fix our own problems, relying on our own strength, or do we place them in God’s hands and work with His guidance and providence? The Christian life is not easy, nor is it always peaceful, but the inner peace that a faithful Christian experiences, knowing that their name is in the book of life and that nothing in this short life can disrupt God’s love for them, makes every struggle in this life worth the pain. 

If we want peace, we have to be that peace. We have to live peaceful lives. We have to submit to governing authorities (as long as it is within the parameters of godliness). We have to be unified as a church. We have to look to God for all of our needs. We have to trust that He will take care of us, even if that isn’t in this life. If we can do these things, we will have peace.

Pointless Baggage

Dale Pollard

On Paul’s third missionary journey he would write to a congregation in Rome. Today this letter is viewed as sone of the most theologically deep books in our New Testament. Some think that there are portions of Scripture that are best left alone, or that only a preacher or Bible teacher can decipher the “code.” When we do some digging into the original audience that Paul was writing to, we see something interesting. He was delivering these deep theological concepts to a church that seemed to be largely lacking in spiritual knowledge. In fact, some of the members of this 1st-century church believed that God was glorified through their sins! Clearly they had some growing to do. Paul didn’t say they needed to stick with simple Christian concepts or the basics; he still tries to teach them the difficult and more complicated aspects of Christianity.

This is a call for us to challenge ourselves in our daily studies. The Bible was meant to be understood, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t take some effort on our part. The book of Romans is a rewarding book to study. In fact, it’s difficult to find another book that can give the Christian more joy and confidence in their salvation. In Romans 8:1, Paul writes, “There is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” At first glance this may just be a verse that many skim past because of how familiar we are with it. When we study the application of such a simple verse, in context, the benefits are incredible.

There’s no need to agonize over our relationship with Christ, if we’re in Christ. Paul simplifies our salvation by telling us that if we have obeyed the gospel and we’re striving to follow Jesus, we don’t have to live in fear of our standing before God. In fact, this phrase, “in Christ,” appears 172 times in the New Testament, but it’s a phrase that is largely misunderstood. Some Christians believe that through the course of their week they bounce from “saved” to “lost” on a daily basis. The idea of being “in” Christ is really describing a spiritual union— much like marriage! You don’t wake up everyday and ask your spouse,  “Are we still married?” and then worry throughout the day that despite your spouse’s confirmation, you’re just not convinced that you’re really married to them. If we haven’t done anything to separate that union with Christ, we can live confidently knowing we are saved.

What a wonderful feeling. The book of Romans is one that helps us to let of any pointless baggage and live a life of peace and joy. 

The Liar Everyone Believes and the Savior Everyone Doubts

Brent Pollard

Two men stand in the background of a single verse. One wrote a proverb about liars. The other rose from the dead. Guess which one the world finds easier to believe.

The Apostle Paul quotes a man often regarded as semi-mythical, believed to have lived roughly 650 years before Paul’s letter to Titus. In Titus 1.12-13, Paul mentions that this man, Epimenides, gave a truthful statement when he said, “Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, lazy gluttons” (NASB95). The irony is that, although considered semi-legendary, most people accept Epimenides’ existence without question. In contrast, the historical Jesus of Nazareth, whom Paul urged Titus to teach about faithfully, is often doubted despite the wealth of textual evidence supporting His existence.

Why? The reason for this is likely the difference in the moral implications of Epimenides’ and Jesus Christ’s existence. The former makes no spiritual demands of the one accepting his existence. The latter, of course, purports to be the Son of God and the Savior of mankind. In other words, the reality of Jesus has a far greater impact on the life of the individual than the reality of Epimenides.

Historical Evidence for Jesus Is Not the Real Obstacle

No scholar loses sleep over Epimenides. He costs nothing. A Cretan poet who called his own countrymen liars demands neither repentance nor worship; he asks only for a footnote. Jesus asks for everything. Paul understood this. Standing before Agrippa, he could insist that “this has not been done in a corner” (Acts 26.26). Luke opened his Gospel by anchoring the story to named emperors, governors, and a census (Luke 2.1-2; 3.1), because he wrote for a man who wanted certainty, not myth. Why, then, does a person weigh the same kind of evidence, accept the poet, and refuse the Lord? Jesus told us. “Men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil” (John 3.19). Unbelief rarely arrives as an intellectual conclusion. It usually arrives as a moral preference wearing a scholar’s gown.

Cost of Believing in Christ

Consider the mechanics of the heart. Admit Epimenides existed, and you may go on eating, sleeping, and sinning exactly as before. Admit that Jesus existed—truly existed, did what the Gospels record, rose as the apostles swore He did—and the floor tilts. Every appetite must answer to Him. Every ambition must kneel. Peter’s hearers felt that tilt on Pentecost when the word “pierced” them, and they cried, “Brethren, what shall we do?” (Acts 2.37). Note the sequence: the fact came first, then the demand. Peter offered no philosophy to admire; he preached a Lord to obey, and three thousand submitted to baptism that day (Acts 2.38, 41). Belief that costs nothing changes nothing. James reminds us that even the demons believe and shudder (James 2.19). The demons hold better theology than the skeptic and worse obedience than a child.

Why the Demands of Jesus Are Good News

Here, the Cretan proverb turns a corner. Paul agreed with Epimenides: the Cretans lied and gorged themselves. Then he told Titus to reprove them “so that they may be sound in the faith” (Titus 1.13). Diagnosis served as a cure. The demands of Christ do not tax the reluctant; they trace the shape of the life He died to give. “The grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all men, instructing us to deny ungodliness and worldly desires and to live sensibly, righteously and godly in the present age” (Titus 2.11-12). Grace instructs. Grace does not merely excuse the glutton; it feeds him on something better until the old husks lose their savor. The man who fears Jesus’ claims has the matter backward. He guards his little kingdom of appetites as though God came to rob him, when God came to enlarge him. Every demand of Christ invites us into a joy the Cretan never tasted: “In Your presence is fullness of joy” (Psalm 16.11).

Faithful Christian Living Begins with Honest Belief

So examine what you actually believe. Not what you affirm on a Sunday morning, but what governs you when you’re not assembled with the church. If Jesus remains a historical curiosity to you, you have received Him as the world receives Epimenides: acknowledged, cataloged, ignored. If He is the risen Son of God, then Paul’s charge to Titus becomes your charge: teach sound doctrine, adorn it with sound living (Titus 2.1, 10), and let no appetite call itself master. The evidence was never the problem. The throne was the problem. Surrender the throne, and the gluttons of Crete—and of your own heart—become “a people for His own possession, zealous for good deeds” (Titus 2.14). Believe Him. Then obey Him. The world may keep its comfortable poets. We will keep our costly Christ.

The Observations About Self-Righteousness

Neal Pollard

The word “self-righteous” does not appear in scripture.  The dictionary defines the word as “filled with a conviction of being morally superior to others; smugly virtuous.”  That attitude is certainly found and discussed in scripture.  Jesus told a parable “to some who  trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and viewed others with contempt” (Luke 18:9; the NIV has “confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else”).  In Luke 16, Jesus tells the Pharisees, “You are those who justify yourselves in the sight of men” (15).  Much of what Jesus says in Matthew 23 is devoted to confronting the scribes and Pharisees’ feelings of moral superiority.

There are some common traits among the self-righteous.  It is not a question of one’s sincerity or conviction, but of how one behaves under the guise of either.  None of us should want to fall into the category of the self-righteous.

First, the self-righteous often see others’ failings, but not their own.  Such a one could fill a book with what the other one is doing wrong, but spend very little time in meaningful self-examination (cf. 2 Cor. 13:5).  Self-righteousness can display itself in constant criticism or hypercriticism of others.  It is easier to pick apart the actions of others than to be self-aware.  Yet, reminding ourselves that all sin will add humility to the way we handle their perceived faults and flaws.

Also, self-righteousness is not true righteousness.  There is a big difference.  True righteousness can be classified with goodness and truth (Eph. 5:9), but self-righteousness is neither good nor true.  True righteousness is coupled with peace and joy, but self-righteousness works against both (Rom. 14:17).  True righteousness can be mentioned in the same breath with self-control (Acts 24:25), but self-righteousness is often devoid of it.  That is the irony of self-righteousness.  It really is not righteous at all.

Further, self-righteousness is often  a product of pride.  It is often a byproduct of one elevating his or her judgments, opinions, and feelings to the level of law.  One’s own preference can become what all should do.  One’s conviction can become the best or the only way.  If we are not careful, conviction and preference can become self-righteousness.

God wants His people righteous.  There is too much worldliness and embracing of sin among even children of God.  This is unrighteousness and no one should aspire to that.  Yet, let us be careful to place our trust in God’s rather than our own righteousness.

The Blood That Is Never Anemic

Brent Pollard

A hematologist once quipped that the bone marrow is like a brick-making factory. The bricks are blood cells. He told me that my body made poor bricks.

Hence, anemia has been an issue I have dealt with for a long time. I have sometimes joked that if “the life is in the blood,” then there have been periods when I must have been partially dead.

Obviously, that is only a joke. When Moses wrote, “the life of the flesh is in the blood” (Leviticus 17.11), he was not saying that someone with a low hemoglobin count possesses only part of a life. Nor was he giving Israel an advanced lesson in modern hematology.

His point concerned sacrifice.

The Life of the Flesh Is in the Blood

God continued: “I have given it to you on the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood by reason of the life that makes atonement” (Leviticus 17.11).

Blood represented a life surrendered.

Anyone in the ancient world could observe the connection between blood and death. An animal whose blood poured out soon ceased to breathe. Long before anyone understood hemoglobin, oxygen transport, or circulation, people understood the more basic truth that blood was intimately connected with life.

But God took that observable reality and gave it theological significance. He did not describe biology; He assigned meaning.

The blood placed upon Israel’s altar said, in effect, that a life has been given.

That explains why blood was treated with such seriousness under the Law. Israel was forbidden to consume it because “the blood is the life” (Deuteronomy 12.23). It belonged to God, who had appointed it for the altar. Hebrews compresses the arrangement into a clause: “without shedding of blood there is no forgiveness” (Hebrews 9.22). Sin has never been cheap.

Sacrificial Anemia: Bulls and Goats Fell Short

Yet there was a problem.

An animal’s blood represented a life, but it could never equal the human life stained by sin. Hebrews states the limitation plainly: “For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Hebrews 10.4).

Those sacrifices were not mistakes. God commanded them. They taught Israel holiness, guilt, substitution, death, and atonement. But they were shadows pointing beyond themselves.

A bull could die. A goat could bleed. A lamb could be offered. But none of them could provide the final answer to human sin.

They were, in a sense, sacrificially deficient.

That brings us back to anemia.

When a person is anemic, the blood is deficient in something the body needs. Perhaps too few healthy red blood cells, perhaps too little hemoglobin. Whatever the cause, the blood cannot do its work, and the person may grow weak, tired, dizzy, or short of breath.

Israel’s altar carried a comparable deficiency. Every priest stood “offering time after time the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins” (Hebrews 10.11). Standing. Always standing. The tabernacle held no chair because the work was never finished.

Human blood can be deficient. The blood of Jesus Christ never is.

Blood and Water at Calvary

John brings us to Calvary in his nineteenth chapter. Because the Sabbath was approaching, the soldiers intended to hasten death by breaking the legs of the crucified men. They broke the legs of the two beside Jesus.

“But coming to Jesus, when they saw that He was already dead, they did not break His legs” (John 19.33).

Then John records the detail we cannot forget: “One of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and immediately blood and water came out” (John 19.34).

Notice the order.

The soldier did not take Jesus’ life. Jesus was already dead. Earlier, He had said of His life, “No one has taken it away from Me, but I lay it down on My own initiative” (John 10.18). Rome furnished the spear. Rome did not furnish the sacrifice.

The spear demonstrated what had already happened. Jesus had truly given His life, and Calvary fulfilled the principle God had taught Israel through centuries of sacrifice.

The blood represented life. And this time, the life offered was not that of a bull, goat, or lamb. It was the life of the Son of God.

Jesus anticipated this when He took the cup and said, “This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for forgiveness of sins” (Matthew 26.28). Peter described Christians as redeemed “with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ” (1 Peter 1.19). Weigh the adjective. Precious. Paul wrote that in Him “we have redemption through His blood” (Ephesians 1.7). Hebrews says Christ entered the holy place “through His own blood” and obtained “eternal redemption” (Hebrews 9.12).

The Blood of Christ Never Runs Low

Moses’ sacrifices continued to be offered because their work was never complete. Jesus did not need to repeat His sacrifice. His offering was sufficient, and He “sat down at the right hand of God” (Hebrews 10.12).

Once was enough.

Yet here is the wonderful paradox: the sacrifice happened once, but its cleansing power continues. John writes: “If we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1.7).

John writes to Christians—people who have already come to Christ. Yet they still need the cleansing His blood provides.

Christ’s blood does not become less effective with the passing of time. It does not weaken after cleansing a certain number of sins. It does not become depleted because millions have appealed to its power. It does not cleanse yesterday’s sins only to prove insufficient for today’s.

There is no shortage in the supply God has provided. Stop rationing your repentance as though the fountain might run dry.

Walking in the Light

John does not teach that Christians may deliberately live in darkness while presuming upon that sacrifice. The promise belongs to those who “walk in the Light.” Neither does it mean sinless perfection; John immediately acknowledges that Christians still sin. “If we confess our sins,” he writes, God “is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1.9).

So walk. Confess quickly. Forgive the brother whose debt costs far less than yours.

The Christian lives, therefore, not in terror that Christ’s sacrifice may someday prove insufficient, but in grateful dependence upon the blood that never loses its sufficiency.

My bone marrow may occasionally make poor bricks. My blood may sometimes fail to carry what my body needs as efficiently as it should. I can joke that there have been times when, if life is in the blood, I must have been only partially alive.

But there is nothing deficient about the blood upon which my spiritual life depends.

The blood of bulls and goats could point toward forgiveness but could never finally provide it. The blood of Jesus does what theirs could not. It cleanses. It redeems. It reconciles.

And for those who continue walking in the light, it continues to cleanse “from all sin.”

Human blood may become anemic. The blood of Christ never will.

Two Faces

Neal Pollard

Recently, I witnessed something I have seen before but that never gets easier to watch.  A person who on several occasions has had something negative and disparaging to say about another person when he was not around was speaking to him, using sweet, flattering and complimentary words.  The same person has used similar words in speaking to me.  It left me cold, certain that I cannot trust the kind words this person directs my way.

By definition, one is two-faced who is “marked by deliberate deceptiveness especially by pretending one set of feelings and acting under the influence of another” (Princeton University, Wordnet).  One etymology source says the first recorded use of “two face” was in 1619, though nothing more is said of that record (www.etymonline.com).  But, many scholars see the origin of the concept in Roman mythology and the god Janus for whom the month January is named.  He is said, as a symbol of change, to see into the past with one face and into the future with another face.  His faces pointed in the opposite direction (en.academic.ru).  Apparently, the concept morphed from looking two directions to showing two sets of feelings, being duplicitous, deceitful, and hypocritical.

When you do a New Testament word study, the word most closely akin to “two faced” is “hypocrisy.”  In fact, the word itself is simply a transliteration (writing or printing out a letter or word using the closest corresponding letters of a different alphabet or language) of the Greek word.  The original word first was theatrical language meaning “playacting.”  Thus, the verb form of the word, found in Luke 20:20, is used to describe how the scribes and high priests pretended to be sincere in order to trap Jesus.

Such a practice is dishonest, for it makes the subject of the hypocrisy think you feel or believe one way when in reality you do not (cf. Mt. 23:28).  Such a practice is harmful to influence, because in showing others your “second face” you reveal yourself as not genuine, trustworthy, or honorable (cf. Gal. 2:13).  Such a practice is sinful and, thus spiritual darkness.  Peter says to “put it aside” (1 Pet. 2:1).

Let us be careful that we do not confuse attempted tact and diplomacy with dishonesty, evil influence, and sin.  Let us keep our ethics aboveboard and our integrity intact.  Let us have one face, the same face, for everyone wherever we are and to whomever we speak.

Turn The Other Cheek

Carl Pollard

Few statements of Jesus have been misunderstood more than Matthew 5:39, “But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” 

Some have tried to soften Jesus’ words until they mean almost the opposite of what He said. But we need to allow the context to determine the meaning.

Jesus is addressing personal retaliation. Just before this, He quotes the Old Testament principle, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” (Matthew 5:38). That command was originally given as a standard of justice (Exodus 21:23–25). The punishment was to fit the crime. It wasn’t permission for an individual to take revenge.

By Jesus’ day, however, people could use that principle to justify getting even, “You hurt me, so I have the right to hurt you.”

Jesus says His followers must live differently. The slap on the right cheek is important. For a right-handed person to strike someone on the right cheek would most naturally involve a backhanded slap. In that culture, this could function as an insult and humiliation. Jesus describes someone attacking your dignity and says essentially, you don’t have to answer every insult with another insult.

That doesn’t mean Christians can never protect themselves, protect their families or flee from danger. Scripture recognizes the legitimate role of civil authorities in punishing wrongdoing (Romans 13:1–4). Jesus Himself sometimes withdrew from those seeking to harm Him (John 8:59). Paul appealed to his legal rights when he was mistreated (Acts 22:25).

Matthew 5:39 is about revenge, retaliation, and the heart that demands payback.

Peter explains it perfectly. When Jesus, “was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten” (1 Peter 2:23).

Jesus isn’t teaching cowardice. He’s teaching extraordinary self-control. Anybody can return insult for insult. Anybody can strike back when their pride has been wounded. Anybody can demand the last word.

Jesus calls His followers to something harder. When someone insults you, you don’t have to destroy them. When someone embarrasses you, you don’t have to embarrass them. When someone wrongs you, vengeance doesn’t belong to you.

Turning the other cheek doesn’t mean pretending evil is good. It means refusing to become evil because someone was evil to you.

The World’s Most Venomous Snake?

Neal Pollard

As one who could not be more afraid of snakes, I was thrilled when one of my sons told me what was the deadliest snake in the world.  The Inland Taipan, native to Australia, is the most venomous land snake on earth, and it has the most toxic venom known to exist.  Yet, it is a shy snake, not known to be aggressive toward humans.  Far more people die from cobras, rattlesnakes, and mambas than reclusive, though deadly, snakes like the Taipan, the boomslang, and the tiger snake.

Mike O’Shea, author of Venemous Snakes of the World, was interviewed by Princeton University Press, and in the course of the conversation he mentioned many of the fables and myths about treating poisonous snake bites that actually do more harm than good.  He listed tourniquets, razor-cuts, venom extractors, and herbal, magical, or traditional treatments, and all of us have heard of some or all of these suggested “cures,” as wrong ways to treat such a bite.  Then he said what was most effective: keep the bite area and the victim still, keep the victim awake and as reassured as possible, keep pressure on neurotoxic bites, keep the airways clear, and perform CPR as needed.  Obviously, in all cases, the biggest, best thing to do is get the victim medical help and get a description of the offender if unable to kill and bring it with you and the victim to the hospital.

The Bible calls the devil “the serpent of old” (Rev. 12:9; 20:2).  It also draws some correlation between the serpent and the devil in 2 Corinthians 11:3, 13-14 (deceiving and craftiness).  Most feel certain that the devil was involved in the Eden events in which a serpent beguiled Eve.  Likening the work and effects of the devil to that of a deadly snake is not a stretch.

If a species of snake enjoyed in physical terms the success the devil enjoys in spiritual terms, every health and emergency services agency in every nation around the world would rise up today and make its eradication their top priority.  They would not rest until this creature was fought and defeated.  To say they would be diligent would be to grossly understate the matter.

Yet, the devil is inserting his toxic poison into the hearts of willing victims every second of time.  If only the worst he could do was kill the body.  He is ruining souls (cf. 2 Tim. 2:25-26), which impacts eternity.

We should avoid places where he is likely to be (1 The. 5:22).  We should take precautions (1 Pet. 5:8).  We should know his habits and methods (2 Cor. 2:11).  We should fight him (1 Pet. 5:9; Js. 4:8; Eph. 6:11).

If we are “bitten” by him, we need to seek help, being reassured that Christ has the power to heal us if we properly treat the “wound.”  As scary as the devil can seem, God is more powerful.  We have the help of others at our disposal, but more importantly we have God’s help and His cure is 100% successful if applied.

Wounds Without a Cause

Brent Pollard

Solomon buries a strange phrase inside a warning about strong drink, and most readers hurry past it.

“Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has contentions? Who has complaining? Who has wounds without cause? Who has redness of eyes? Those who linger long over wine…” (Proverbs 23.29–30 NASB95)

Wounds without cause. The phrase arrests me.

Recently, I found myself thinking about those words after developing a painful hematoma. There had been no fall, no bump into a table, no memorable injury. It simply appeared. As someone taking blood thinners, I know there is a medical explanation, even if I cannot point to a particular moment and say, “That is when it happened.” Even so, Solomon’s phrase echoed in my mind for days. Somewhere in my body, a small vessel failed. I never felt it. I only saw the aftermath.

That experience sent me back to the proverb, and the proverb sent me somewhere I did not expect to go.

What Proverbs 23.29–30 Actually Describes

Solomon was not writing about medication or fragile capillaries. He was sketching a portrait of the drunkard who wakes bruised, battered, and unable to account for his injuries. The wounds are not genuinely causeless. The man cannot trace them, because the wine that battered him also stole his judgment, his awareness, and his memory.

Read the end of the chapter, and you hear him speak for himself: “They struck me, but I did not become ill; They beat me, but I did not know it. When shall I awake? I will seek another drink” (Proverbs 23.35). There is the horror of it. Sin anesthetizes the very faculty that would identify sin as the culprit. It leaves scars and then erases the fingerprints.

Every generation invents new anesthetics. The substance changes; the mechanism does not. Whatever dulls conscience will eventually dull the ability to name what has gone wrong. That is why the wise man begs us to stay awake.

When Suffering Has No Explanation: Job and the Man Born Blind

But the phrase carries a second freight, and Scripture will not let us set it down.

Sometimes life wounds us in ways we cannot explain, and no moral arithmetic will balance the ledger.

Job’s friends tried the arithmetic. They reasoned that extraordinary suffering must indicate extraordinary sin, and they pressed that logic on a shattered man for chapter after chapter. God’s verdict on their theology was withering: “My wrath is kindled against you and against your two friends, because you have not spoken of Me what is right as My servant Job has” (Job 42.7). They defended God with arguments God rejected. Zeal did not excuse them.

Centuries later, the disciples made the same mistake with a beggar’s face before them. “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he would be born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was neither that this man sinned, nor his parents; but it was so that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9.2–3). He refused the question as framed. He did not assign blame; He gave sight.

Jesus dismantled the same reasoning again when men brought Him news of Galileans slaughtered at their sacrifices and eighteen crushed beneath a falling tower. Were they worse offenders than everyone else in Jerusalem? “I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13.5). Tragedy is not a scoreboard. Tragedy is a summons.

Why Christians Must Not Invent Reasons for Pain

Here is the practical discipline this demands of us.

Christians should be careful not to invent explanations where God has revealed none. A diagnosis is not necessarily divine punishment. An accident is not always the consequence of poor decisions. A chronic illness is not proof of weak faith. We live in a fallen creation where bodies weaken, diseases develop, blood vessels rupture, bones break, and hearts fail. These realities are not always traceable to a specific personal failing.

When we manufacture a reason for another believer’s affliction, we are not comforting them. We are prosecuting them. And we do it, usually, because their unexplained pain unsettles our tidy assumptions about how God runs the world. Silence feels like weakness, so we fill it with explanation.

Note what Job’s friends did right before they did everything wrong. They sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, “and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his pain was very great” (Job 2.13). That week was ministry. The speeches were not.

Sit down. Bring food. Say less. Weep with those who weep (Romans 12.15). You are not required to explain the wound to bind it.

A Groaning Creation and the Redemption of the Body

That does not mean God is absent.

Paul teaches that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now, and that we ourselves groan within, “waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body” (Romans 8.22–23). Every unexplained ache, every mysterious diagnosis, every wound that seems to appear from nowhere testifies that this world is not the one God originally intended and not the one He will finally leave us in. Groaning is not faithlessness. Groaning is the sound of hope straining forward.

So Paul can look straight at a wasting body and call the affliction momentary and light, because he weighs it against an eternal weight of glory and fixes his eyes on what cannot be seen (2 Corinthians 4.16–18). That is not denial. That is accurate accounting. He also carried a thorn he never had explained to him, only answered: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12.9). God gave him Himself instead of information, and Paul counted it the better bargain.

We are pilgrims desiring a better country (Hebrews 11.16). Pilgrims do not demand that the road make sense. They keep walking because they trust the One who mapped it.

Trusting the Great Physician Until Every Wound Is Healed

One day the Great Physician will complete His work. There will be no unexplained bruises, mysterious illnesses, failing lungs, aching joints, or wounded hearts. “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain” (Revelation 21.4). Every effect of sin and death will finally be undone, and the undoing will be thorough.

Until then, entrust your soul to a faithful Creator in doing what is right (1 Peter 4.19). Not in understanding what is right. In doing it. Worship on Sunday with a body that hurts. Serve someone whose suffering makes less sense than yours. Refuse bitterness the way you would refuse a drink that promised to make you forget.

Some wounds will still seem to come without a cause. They may puzzle us, inconvenience us, or frighten us. They are never outside the knowledge of our heavenly Father.

We may not always understand our wounds, but we can always trust the One who does.

When God Says, “Grow Up”

Neal Pollard

It does not matter how long a church has existed at a location. Nor does it matter how long an individual Christian has been a baptized believer. It is still possible for a Christian or a congregation to be deemed immature or in need of growing up. To a congregation that had been established for some time, Paul writes, “And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ” (Ephesians 4:11-15). 

This is a rich passage of Scripture, from which we can draw so much application. However, notice the specific thing Paul writes about achieving spiritual maturity. The way to avoid being spiritual infants, according to the context, is three-fold.

No longer be tossed here and there by waves. The imagery is of instability and lacking an anchor. Know what you stand for and stand there! Follow God’s Word and reject anything else. Because many don’t know God’s Word, they accept every new teaching that comes along without studying it through and examining it critically.

No longer be carried about. The imagery is of being easily led and duped. The old circus mogul, P.T. Barnum, liked to put it, “There’s a sucker born every minute!” Paul says no longer be carried about “by winds.” There were others claiming to have the truth and who denied Jesus. No longer be carried about “by tricks.” There were others trying to back up their message with false proofs and perhaps claims that were meant to trick those not grounded in the truth. No longer be carried about “by schemes.” There were strategies and ploys attempted to try and truth people from God’s grace. 

Speak the truth in love. Paul says that if the Ephesians believed what he was saying about Christ, the blessings in Christ, and the blessings of the church of Christ, they would be a grown up church. Notice that by not only rejecting all other ways but by doing what they can to teach and live the right message, they were going to be a full-grown, mature church. The right message produces the right kind of response in the right kind of hearts. 

Ephesians 4:16 says that the whole body causes the growth of the body. This growth relies on good joints and individual working parts. In other words, we’ve got to work together and realize our interdependency,. A few people cannot do the work of the whole body. Imagine how you’d go through life in only three or four of the parts of your body functioned. You might be able to chew, blink, and smell, but what if that was it? There’s not a part of your body that is not important and necessary. Try walking without a big toe or wearing glasses without an ear lobe.

The church can’t grow like it should if you and I aren’t doing our part. Paul has spent three and a half chapters talking about how important the church is. Then he writes these words. It is Christ’s body, it was in God’s mind from eternity, and it is how God is glorified. He wants each congregation, and every individual member of it, to do what it takes to grow up! 

Never Assume Someone Is Beyond Saving

Brent Pollard

Never assume someone is beyond saving.

The Deadliest Single-Aircraft Accident in History

On August 12, 1985, on the eve of Japan’s Obon holiday—when millions travel to their hometowns to honor departed loved ones—524 people, many of them families, boarded Japan Airlines Flight 123 from Tokyo’s Haneda Airport bound for Osaka. Seven years earlier, an improper structural repair to the aircraft’s rear pressure bulkhead had unknowingly planted the seeds of disaster. After more than 12,000 pressurization cycles, the weakened bulkhead failed just 12 minutes into the flight at an altitude of 24,000 feet. The aircraft’s vertical stabilizer tore away, all four hydraulic systems were destroyed, and the pilots had almost no means of controlling the airplane.

For the next 32 minutes, the crew fought to keep Flight 123 airborne as it oscillated in a violent Dutch roll while repeatedly climbing and diving in what aviators call a phugoid cycle. The aircraft lurched through the sky in a terrifying, three-dimensional motion that made it nearly impossible to maintain a steady heading. At 6:56 PM, it slammed into Mount Osutaka in Gunma Prefecture. Only four people survived. To this day, Flight 123 remains the deadliest single-aircraft accident in aviation history.

At first glance, this sounds like nothing more than another aviation disaster. It wasn’t. It is also a story about what can happen when people conclude there is no one left to rescue.

A Tragedy That Hits Close to Home

This tragedy also strikes an oddly personal note for me. Mount Osutaka lies in Gunma Prefecture, the birthplace of my late Aunt Maki Mitchell (née Iishi). Her hometown is only about sixty-six miles from the crash site. Since she married a U.S. Air Force airman stationed in Japan, other parts of this story resonate personally as well.

When Rescuers Concluded No One Was Left to Rescue

Survivors of the Flight 123 crash were seated in the back, as the front absorbed most of the impact with the mountain, acting as a crumple zone that reduced G-forces at the rear. One survivor was off-duty stewardess Yumi Ochiai, who noted that there were more survivors initially. Some believe that additional lives were lost because the JSDF helicopter reported seeing no signs of life from the air, reducing the perceived urgency of the rescue. The principal rescue force spent the night approximately thirty-nine miles from the crash site and did not reach the wreckage until daylight.

The tragedy worsened as the U.S. Air Force, based in Western Tokyo’s Tama Area, monitored the doomed flight on radar. Unaware of the damage, they offered their 11,000-foot runway for a landing. After the crash, a C-130 located the wreckage in 20 minutes and, at 7:17 PM, informed Japanese authorities and Yokota, triggering the deployment of a rescue helicopter. By 8:30 PM, a Marine helicopter arrived to lower two pararescuemen. The crew searched for a drop site with searchlights. At 9:15 PM, Japanese authorities claimed full jurisdiction over the incident, and at 9:20 PM, U.S. personnel were ordered to leave despite their willingness to assist.

Spiritually, we can make the same mistake by looking at someone’s life and concluding there is no one left to rescue.

Waving in the Darkness

Meanwhile, Yumi Ochiai lay on the ground. She had heard the helicopters and could see the probing lights. Yet she was too pained to yell loudly, so she waved her hand, hoping to attract their attention. Other survivors called out to the lights in the sky above, all in vain. The helicopter hovered over the canopy, and the engine noise kept U.S. personnel from hearing their cries. Personally, I cannot imagine what the poor souls lying on the mountain below must have thought when they were suddenly left in darkness again.

Imagine waving with what little strength you have left while those sent to help cannot see you. There are people around us who are doing the spiritual equivalent every day.

As Long as There Is Breath, There Is Hope

Eight-year-old survivor Mikiko Yoshizaki and her mother, 34-year-old Hiroko Yoshizaki, took turns yelling at each other to stay awake during the 14 hours they waited for rescuers. Sadly, Hiroko’s husband and two other children seated beside them had perished in the crash. Twelve-year-old Keiko Kawakami spoke to her father and sister in the wreckage before they finally grew cold and quiet in the early morning.

As long as there was breath in their lungs, there was hope. As long as a sinner is alive, there is hope.

The Great Physician Never Gives Up on a Soul

Jesus never assumed anyone was beyond saving. He sought tax collectors, prostitutes, Samaritans, thieves, and even the persecutor Saul of Tarsus. While others saw hopeless cases, our Lord saw souls worth rescuing. “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19.10).

The heartbreaking part is that this may not have been inevitable. A Japanese physician whose identity remained anonymous said that dozens of victims did not suffer fatal internal trauma from the impact itself. They died from hypovolemic shock (severe blood loss) and extreme hypothermia caused by the cold, damp mountain air at 5,135 feet. He said that if rescuers had arrived only ten hours earlier, they could have saved more lives.

Let us not end with the thoughts of one physician, but the teachings of the Great Physician.

Seek the Lost and Leave the Results to God

Every congregation has someone others have quietly given up on.

Every family has someone everyone assumes will never change.

Every community has people whose lives appear beyond repair.

Yet as long as there is breath, there is hope. As long as a sinner lives, the gospel still has work to do.

Christians have never been commissioned to decide who is salvageable. We have been commanded to seek the lost (Luke 15.4ff), proclaim the gospel (Matthew 28.19–20), and leave the results to God (1 Corinthians 3.6; Isaiah 55.11).

Never assume someone is beyond saving.

Many Will Say to Me, “Lord, Lord”

Carl Pollard

Few passages in Scripture are as sobering as Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:21–23. Throughout the Bible we find warnings like, “Depart from Me,” “The door was shut,” and “You fool! This night your soul is required of you.” But perhaps the most unsettling is Jesus describing people who fully expected to enter paradise only to hear, “I never knew you; depart from Me.”

These weren’t atheists or people who openly rejected Christ. They called Him “Lord.” They believed they belonged to Him and even pointed to a lifetime of religious accomplishments. Their confidence was real, but it was misplaced.

Jesus spoke these words at the conclusion of the Sermon on the Mount. After teaching about anger, purity, prayer, generosity, worry, and judgment, He ends with a series of contrasts: two gates, two roads, two trees, two builders, and ultimately two kinds of disciples. His message is that appearances can be deceiving. The road to destruction can look remarkably religious.

From Matthew 7:21-23 we learn first that saying the right words isn’t enough. Jesus says, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven.” Calling Jesus “Lord” means recognizing His authority. But many want the comfort of calling Him Savior without submitting to Him as Master. As Jesus asked in Luke 6:46, “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?” Genuine faith is demonstrated when we surrender our will to His, especially when obedience is difficult.

Second, religious activity isn’t enough. Those standing before Jesus had an impressive spiritual résumé. They prophesied, cast out demons, and performed mighty works in His name. Today, someone might point to years of church attendance, teaching Bible classes, preaching sermons, or serving in leadership. None of those things are wrong, but none of them save us. Religion becomes dangerous when our confidence rests in what we’ve done rather than in Christ. It’s possible to preach about prayer without praying or teach God’s Word while neglecting to obey it! As a preacher, this scripture is a needed reminder to me

Jesus’ statement, “I never knew you,” reveals the heart of the issue. Scripture often uses the word “know” to describe a relationship. These people knew about Jesus, but they never truly belonged to Him. Outward religion had hidden lives that were never genuinely surrendered to God’s will. On the Day of Judgment, appearances will disappear, and only reality will remain.

Jesus tells us what separates the true disciple from the false one, “The one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.” Obedience doesn’t earn salvation, but it reveals genuine faith. Christians aren’t perfect. We stumble, repent, and depend daily on God’s grace. The difference is between a heart that struggles to obey and a heart that refuses to obey.

This truth is reinforced immediately afterward in the parable of the wise and foolish builders. Both heard Jesus’ words, but only one obeyed them. Before the storm, both houses looked secure. Only when the storm came was the foundation revealed. Judgment Day will expose what our confidence has truly been built upon.

Matthew 7 challenges every one of us to examine the foundation of our assurance. Our confidence can’t rest on feelings, family heritage, years in the church, or even a list of good works. It has got to rest on Christ alone as we walk in obedient faith. The question Jesus leaves us with is simple but essential. Does my life match my confession? If I call Him Lord, does He truly have authority over my life? Genuine assurance doesn’t belong to the ones with the most impressive résumé, but to those who trust Christ, submit to His rule, and faithfully follow Him.

Sharing The Filling Fulness Of Christ

Gary Pollard

Some phrases in the Bible are simple to read, but very difficult to comprehend. In this article, I’d like to walk through a process together in an attempt to make sense of a difficult phrase (thanks, Paul). One of those is in Ephesians 1.23: “…the fullness of him who fills all in all.” This is a description of Jesus, specifically as it relates to His being the head of the church. But what does that phrase mean? 

I will not pretend to have the answer, but I would like to make a couple of suggestions. Firstly, “fullness” appears to describe the church. In my limited knowledge of Greek, it seems to be grammatically tied to “body.” The church – His body – is His fullness. Both are nominative, both are the subject of the sentence. 

Secondly, Jesus fills all in all. It’s that last phrase that’s so hard for me to comprehend. What does it mean, that “He fills all in all?” Based on the fact that some form of “fullness” is used three times in a single phrase, it appears to have reference to his nature. He is not confined by time or space and is present everywhere. 

If the church is His fullness (the word is possessive in Greek), and He is omnipresent (or, creation is full of Him), then the church must be extremely important. Again, I am not a scholar, I may be mistaken. 

I would, though, like to attempt to make application from this difficult phrase. If the church is, ideally, representative of the very nature of Christ, are we living up to it? Is our passion for the lost like His was/is? Is our love for each other as strong as His is for the church? Do we treat the church as if it were the body of Christ (because it is)? Do we keep in mind, as we interact with each other, that we all answer to Him? Are we trying to mold culture to His image, or are we being molded to culture? 

We really have to think about this one to try to make sense of it. Comprehending this phrase is anything but easy (at least for me!). But the church – which is one distinct unit, not a series of denominations – is supposed to represent Jesus. Our values, our demeanor, our goals, our mission, our attitudes, our behavior, and our purpose should scream to others, “We are not of this world.” If these do not, we are not representing Jesus. No one will do this perfectly, but the standard is high. 

When we begin to understand this phrase a little more, it shifts from being hard to understand to being hard to hear. We have a huge responsibility, but we also have a global family to support us. The standard is high, but our Head is also our Savior. We’re not just Christians to be good people, we’re Christians to show the world who Jesus is.

Two Swords and One Cup: What Jesus Meant When He Told the Disciples to Buy a Sword

Brent Pollard

In my daily Bible readings, I have always been intrigued by Luke 22.36. Jesus tells His followers who lack a sword to sell their coats to buy one. When they take inventory, Luke notes that they have two swords, which Jesus declares sufficient (Luke 22.38). When Judas appears, the disciples ask if it is time to use the sword (Luke 22.49). Peter responds by cutting off Malchus’ ear (Luke 22.50; John 18.10). Yet, despite telling the disciples to own a sword, Jesus immediately rebukes Peter and warns him that those who live by the sword die by the sword (Matthew 26.52). What, then, are we to make of Jesus’ counsel for the disciples to buy a sword?

Why Jesus Told His Disciples to Buy a Sword (Luke 22.35–38)

Note Jesus’ words closely. He first summons a memory: “When I sent you out without money belt and bag and sandals, you did not lack anything, did you?” (Luke 22.35). They answered in a single word: nothing. Then the Lord reverses the terms: “But now, whoever has a money belt is to take it along, likewise also a bag, and whoever has no sword is to sell his coat and buy one” (Luke 22.36). The sentence drops like a stone into still water, and the ripples have not stopped since.

Watch what Jesus does next. He refuses to leave the Twelve guessing. Instead, He supplies the reason in the same breath: “For I tell you that this which is written must be fulfilled in Me, ‘AND HE WAS NUMBERED WITH TRANSGRESSORS’” (Luke 22.37). Isaiah drafted the scene seven centuries earlier (Isaiah 53.12). The Suffering Servant would be counted among criminals, and blades in a midnight olive grove handed the arresting party the impression the prophecy demanded. The sword was not tactics. The sword was testimony. Rome saw an insurrectionist and reached for nails. Heaven saw the Lamb.

Two Swords Are Enough: Sufficient for a Sign, Useless for a War

The disciples, gloriously literal, take inventory: “Lord, look, here are two swords.” Jesus answers, “It is enough” (Luke 22.38). Enough for what? Not for a campaign. Two blades against a temple detachment armed with swords and clubs (Matthew 26.47) is not a battle plan; it is arithmetic that insults the word. The term means sufficient for the purpose, and the purpose was prophetic, not military. A signature occupies an inch of paper and settles an entire estate. Two swords occupied one dark garden and settled an ancient oracle. Christ needed exactly as much steel as the sign required, and not one blade more. The money belt and knapsack carry the same honesty: the season He had welcomed had closed, and He said so in advance (John 16.4).

Peter’s Sword and the Cup Christ Refused to Set Down

Torchlight moves through the trees. Judas arrives with a kiss, and the disciples ask, “Lord, shall we strike with the sword?” (Luke 22.49). Peter, who never in his life waited for an answer, swings first. Malchus loses an ear (John 18.10). As my father likes to point out, Peter wasn’t only aiming for an ear. Peter’s swing exposes his intention.

Jesus immediately rebukes Peter. “Put your sword back into its place; for all those who take up the sword shall perish by the sword” (Matthew 26.52). Matthew preserves the principle; John preserves the purpose: “the cup which the Father has given Me, shall I not drink it?” (John 18.11). Luke records the mercy: “Stop! No more of this,” and He touched the man’s ear and healed him (Luke 22.51). The final miracle before Calvary repaired damage inflicted by a disciple defending Christ.

Peter’s failure was not cowardice. Cowards keep the blade sheathed. His courage simply ran the wrong direction, and misdirected courage wrecks more than fear ever does. Earlier Jesus had prayed, “yet not as I will, but as You will” (Matthew 26.39). Peter, steel shining, answered that prayer with a flat no. Affection that resists the revealed will of God is idolatry wearing love’s coat, and it always leaves someone bleeding.

No Contradiction: Possession Versus Presumption

Compare the two sayings directly, and the difference becomes clear. Jesus never commanded, “Destroy the sword.” He commanded, “Put your sword back into its place.” The weapon possessed a place; Peter’s hand in that hour was not it. Luke 22.36 permits possession — chiefly for the fulfillment of Scripture, secondarily for the ordinary hazards of a hostile road. Matthew 26.52 forbids a use: the violent obstruction of God’s redemptive will. The verses never collide, because they never occupy the same ground.

“All those who take up the sword shall perish by the sword” is a proverb of judgment, not a footnote about weaponry. Since Genesis 9.6, God has guarded human life as His own image; men who make violence their vocation are ground beneath the millstone they quarried. Christ refuses to have His kingdom defended by steel: “My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, then My servants would be fighting” (John 18.36). Jesus names the reason His men are not swinging. Not incapacity. Allegiance.

Sheathe the Sword: Faithful Christian Living in a Hostile World

We still carry swords, forged of speech and silence and the timing of a strategically placed truth: the reply that ends the argument and the friendship together, the grudge polished until it gleams. Every one of us knows a Malchus, and most of us swung before we asked the Lord anything.

God armed His church, but He stocked the armory Himself: “the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses” (2 Corinthians 10.4). One blade only hangs in the Christian’s kit, and it is not ours to sharpen — “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6.17). Grace hands us that sword and then trains the hand: “the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all men, instructing us to deny ungodliness and worldly desires and to live sensibly, righteously and godly in the present age” (Titus 2.11–12). Unmerited favor never leaves a man where it found him. It pardons, then it disciplines, and the disciplined man discovers that obedience is where the joy was hiding all along. Our Lord proved it first. He “for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame” (Hebrews 12.2), drinking the cup Peter tried to knock from His hand — gladly, because He saw us at the bottom of it. Every restraint He exercised in that garden purchased something for you (1 Peter 2.23).

Peter learned. Fifty days later he stood in Jerusalem and struck harder than steel ever struck: “Repent, and each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins” (Acts 2.38). Three thousand fell that day, pierced to the heart (Acts 2.37) — not by a blade, but by a word — and they rose alive. The fisherman who maimed the high priest’s servant never drew that sword again.

So take your inventory. Whatever hangs at your side, hand it back to the Lord who defines its place. Trust the Father who wrote the script from Isaiah forward and has never missed a line. Sheathe the sword. Drink the cup. Follow the Christ who conquered the world by refusing to fight it on the world’s terms — and then go tell somebody why.

Substituting A Pound Of Arsenic For A Pinch Of Salt

Neal Pollard

You go into a hardware store, walk down an aisle, and walk up to a bin, looking for a 1/2″ X 6″ zinc-plated hex lag bolt or a 1/2″ sheet of birch plywood or a 3/4″ galvanized malleable iron tee coupling. Each of these is in a different department, serves a different purpose, has a different look and feel, and has a different value. For each, the size, material, and thickness matters. If you know about home improvement projects, you don’t even think about these things. You know that you wouldn’t build a cabinet with CDX plywood or use a tee coupling as a brake caliper or use a lag bolt as a paint brush. Why? We live in a world of order, with rules, physics, logic, and common sense. 

The same principles apply to aerodynamics, the medical field, architecture, and truly every discipline there is. We expect precision, pattern, and predictable outcomes. This is true in every walk of life, but, somehow, regarding the only part of us that is not material and mortal, we are sometimes told to throw rules, logic, and common sense out the window! 

  • Acts 2:38 says repent and be baptized for the forgiveness of sins, but it means you can be saved by faith without doing either of these.
  • Ephesians 5:19 specifies singing, but you can “do” church music however you prefer.
  • 1 Timothy 2:11-12 forbids a woman to teach or have authority over a man in God’s household, the church (3:15), but if the culture or church leadership permits she can preach, serve as an elder, or teach a Bible class.
  • Matthew 19:9 restricts divorce and remarriage to the exception of fornication (sexual immorality), but we can reinterpret or rationalize away Jesus’ plain teaching on the matter.
  • 1 Corinthians 5 (among other passages) calls for church discipline in the case of unrepentant sins like fornication, abuse, drunkenness, and financial impropriety, but we can handle things a different way (or, more commonly, not handle it at all).
  • 1 Timothy 3:1-7 (Titus 1:5-11) call for specific men to serve as shepherds and overseers of a local church, but people reject that plan for some alternative form of church leadership.
  • Ephesians 5:22-6:4 tell us how the home is to function, with the roles of husband/father, wife/mother, and children, but we can let culture, preference, or self-will replace or alter it.

Truly, as many commands as can be found in scripture, man has the capacity and audacity to twist, change, and pervert it. To do so is to act without divine permission and authority. It is to supplant and replace the ultimate authority with a fatal alternative. God has given us a myriad of illustrations from every corner of our world, to see that where something must be done a specific way we are not at liberty to change that. As truly as three inches does not equal a thousand yards, “x” will not suffice when God’s Word calls for “y.” 

Asleep At The Screen

Brent Pollard

A few nights ago, I made an error while browsing an online store via my tablet in bed on my ventilator. As I slowly dozed off to sleep, my thumb inadvertently pressed a few buttons, ordering a $70 package deal consisting of a new razor, 12 replacement razor blade cartridges, and 5 outdoor straw archery targets. The following morning, I received an email confirmation for the purchase and was also charged the amount from my bank account. (Don’t feel guilty for laughing. It is a humorous anecdote.)

No intention. No awareness. But very real consequences.

My little online shopping incident is a small object lesson in the larger spiritual truth that it is not the big mistakes we make that affect us most, but rather the many small ways we fall short of our best intentions.

Why Spiritual Vigilance Matters: The Warning of 1 Peter 5:8

The Bible says that Christians must be on guard against the temptations they face. The temptation could come at any moment, so we must always be on our guard. The Bible says in 1 Peter 5.8, “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour.” The word néphó, “be sober,” and grégoreó, “be vigilant,” both mean to be awake. Your adversary is like a roaring lion, and a roaring lion does not attack the watchful; the sleeping is what a roaring lion attacks. Peter knew what it was like to be sleeping when something very important was happening. He was sleeping in the garden of Gethsemane when Jesus was struggling with the greatest battle of His life.

The Lord turned to Peter, who was sleeping, and rebuked him, saying, “Could you not watch with Me one hour? Watch and pray lest you enter into temptation; for the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matthew 26.41). Yet just a few hours later Peter, while spiritually lethargic, was denying his Lord before the rooster crowed. Today, this same Peter is urging us to “be sober” and “be vigilant” because our adversary, the devil, “is roaming about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour” (1 Peter 5.8).

Our adversary the devil is a wily foe. Instead of bursting through our front doors, he will slip in through an unlocked window. The most harmful temptation for Christians is the one they are unaware of—that they are being tempted to sin against God. Drowsiness is a state that causes the Christian to be less than their full potential, and in this state, the enemy of our souls does his greatest work.

How Does Spiritual Drift Begin?

My accidental purchase started with my unintentional use of my tablet. I picked it up to distract myself from the difficult process of transition from free-breathing to a ventilator. I intended to use my tablet to fall asleep. To that end, my plan was successful. However, my thumb continued tapping here and there. The items I bought were all outside my original plan. Their purchase happened unconsciously. I only realized I purchased something when I received the confirmation email, and I was surprised.

Hebrews 2.1 warns us to pay close attention to the Gospel, likening it to a harbor (pararreó) where we tie our boat to avoid drifting away. The image highlights the danger of slowly, imperceptibly losing our way if we neglect these words. To stay anchored in faith, we must heed these sound teachings, for letting them go leads to drifting.

The sleeper misses something vital: wonder. They might worship, pray, receive the Lord’s Supper, or read the Word of God, but eventually, they lack a great treasure—reverence for God. This is a tremendous loss, unnoticed by the sleeper, who does not tremble before the Holy God, an awe-inspiring being. We must worship with awe and reverence; otherwise, He holds no value for us.

Sowing and Reaping: Why Intent Does Not Erase Outcome (Galatians 6:7)

Drifting is subtle; most of the time, people don’t even realize they have started drifting. They are lost before they even realize it. The main thing to understand to begin to combat this sort of spiritual problem is that whatever a man sows, that is what he will reap. In other words, the intention behind an action does not change its outcome. A person can be spiritually lost even though they were not intentionally trying to lose themselves.

And it matters not whether or not one intended to plant a particular crop. The truth of the matter is that there are two seeds a person can sow. There is the seed of the Spirit, and there is the seed of the flesh. In the case of the seed of the flesh, a person can be sowing it without even realizing it. His neglect of the things of the Spirit can in fact bring about a spiritual famine in his life, resulting in a harvest of dry and lifeless things. The point is, however, that regardless of whether a person intends to reap a particular harvest, he will reap what he sows.

There is hope for those spiritually asleep. While the law of sowing and reaping exists, for Christians it is transformed by Christ’s blood. God’s Word, given by the Spirit, teaches us what to sow to gain eternal life. Salvation is a blessing, not a burden, and comes as we stay spiritually alert. An alert soul is filled with joy in the Lord’s presence and takes pleasure at His right hand forever (Psalm 16.11). Vigilance is not a penalty but a sign of valuing what’s most important and of awaiting its manifestation (Luke 12.34).

Staying Spiritually Awake: Practical Watchfulness for Everyday Faith

This, however, is not to say that we so easily fall into errors. No, we must always guard our hearts and direct our lives in the best fashion possible. And the best way for us to do this is to pay close attention to how we live day to day. If we pay attention to our lives, we can easily avoid errors and make them the best they can be.

We previously urged you to be watchful, as the hour of salvation is near (Romans 13.11). Stay alert in your walk and lifestyle. Sobriety and vigilance are essential (1 Thessalonians 5.6). Don’t wait for the right feelings or go through the motions blindly. Live watchfully daily. Dedicate time for prayer every day. Even before bed, when you might feel less alert, use that time to read the Word meaningfully, not as a tourist but as a resident. Regularly examine yourself during the Lord’s Supper (1 Corinthians 11.28). Beyond private devotion, avoid forsaking the saints, as gathering encourages love and good works (Hebrews 10.24-25). Simple daily practices help prevent error.

Wake up! Trim your wick. Answer the call of your Lord while it is yet today. Be a person of great expectancy as you go through your daily routine, because He is coming at an unexpected hour for His Bride (Matthew 25.13).

Most people don’t intentionally mess up their lives or look to fall from grace. They just fall asleep at the wheel or with a tablet in their hands.

The Eleventh Commandment

Carl Pollard

One of the most misquoted verses in the Bible has to be Matthew 7:1, “Judge not.” Those two words have become the universal conversation stopper. Mention that drunkenness is sinful? “Judge not.” Say that living together outside of marriage isn’t God’s design? “Judge not.” Teach that Jesus is the only way to the Father? “Judge not.”

In our culture, those words have been turned into an eleventh commandment that supposedly means, “Never tell anyone they’re wrong.” But if that’s what Jesus meant, He constantly violated His own teaching. He called people hypocrites. He exposed false teachers. He rebuked cities that refused to repent. Clearly, Jesus wasn’t forbidding every kind of judgment.

The context explains what He meant. In Matthew 7, Jesus is wrapping up the Sermon on the Mount. He’s been exposing the shallow righteousness of the Pharisees, people who looked holy on the outside while their hearts were filled with pride. Then He gives one of the most memorable illustrations in Scripture, a man trying to remove a speck of sawdust from his brother’s eye while a massive plank is sticking out of his own.

The problem isn’t that the brother has a speck. Jesus acknowledges that he does. The problem is the man trying to help while refusing to deal with his own sin. Jesus isn’t condemning correction, He’s condemning correction without self-examination! 

Notice what Jesus says, “First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.” He doesn’t say, “Ignore the speck.” He says, “Deal with your own heart first.” The goal is to remove both! 

The rest of the New Testament makes this even clearer. Jesus tells us to beware of false prophets (Matt. 7). Paul commands the church to confront open, unrepentant sin (1 Cor. 5). John tells Christians to test the spirits (1 John 4). None of that is possible without discernment. In fact, Jesus Himself later says, “Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment” (John 7:24).

Our culture has redefined love as unconditional approval. Scripture doesn’t. If your child wandered into traffic, love wouldn’t stay silent. Love warns because love cares. In the same way confronting someone living in sin isn’t hateful when it’s done with humility and compassion. Sometimes the most loving conversation is also the hardest one.

Before we correct someone else, though, we need to ask ourselves some honest questions. Am I trying to help this person, or prove I’m right? Have I dealt with my own sin first? Do I genuinely love them enough to seek restoration?

Galatians 6:1 captures Jesus’ point perfectly: restore those caught in sin “in a spirit of gentleness.” The goal is never humiliation, but restoration.

Matthew 7 wasn’t written to keep Christians from speaking the truth. It was written to keep us from speaking the truth with pride. Healthy Christians aren’t blind to sin. They’re aware that they need God’s grace just as much as everyone else. When we remember that, we’ll speak the truth with humility, compassion, and love, the same way Jesus did.

Grace Is Not A Cover For Irreverence

Brent Pollard

 Imagine a man who has been fully pardoned by the king—sealed, signed, undeserved—who then strolls into the throne room, drops a bruised apple on the dais steps, and yawns his way through the royal anthem. He has mixed up mercy with permission.  He has mistaken the king’s kindness for the king’s indifference. There were men like this among the prophet Malachi. They were dressed in priestly robes.

“But when you present the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? And when you present the lame and sick, is it not evil? Why not offer it to your governor? Would he be pleased with you? Or would he receive you kindly?” (Malachi 1.8, NASB). The question stings because it’s fair. The priests would never insult a Persian official with a lame lamb, but here they laid sick animals on the altar of the living God and called the transaction worship. God saw. God spoke. And what He said should still make us tremble.

When Worship Becomes Leftovers: The Warning of Malachi 1

Malachi’s generation never abandoned the temple. That’s the alarming part. They kept the schedule, they fanned the fires, they said the prayers—and God pronounced the whole show evil. Absence was not their sin. It was attendance wearing contempt. They gave God what was least costly to them, and He wasn’t going to pretend that gesture honored Him.

The irony was more than the priests knew, for their ancestors had suffered the Babylonian captivity because of the other side of this same coin. Israel continually worshiped the LORD before the exile, but they would not worship Him alone. They swore by the LORD and by Milcom in the same breath, bowing in His temple one week and burning incense on pagan high places the next (see Zephaniah 1.5), vacillating between two opinions until Elijah demanded a choice they would not make (1 Kings 18.21). They were driven into captivity by divided worship, and when they returned, God was met with diminished worship. Idolatry gives His honor to a rival; irreverence keeps the ritual and withholds honor—but both commit the same treason. Both deny Him the whole heart He demands. Both He rejects with equal fire.

We recognize the pattern because we carry it. The prayer mumbled while the mind is on tomorrow’s errands. The song mouthed without a single thought rising heavenward. The contribution calculated to pinch nothing.  Long before Malachi, David saw the danger and slammed the door on it. When Araunah offered him a threshing floor without charge, the king refused: “I will not offer burnt offerings to the LORD my God which cost me nothing” (2 Samuel 24.24). David knew what the priests of Malachi’s day had forgotten: that a free offering announces a worthless God. Our offerings show what we think He is worth.

Would You Offer It to Your Governor? The Insult of Halfhearted Honor

The argument is from the lesser to the greater, and it is sound. If a defective gift would put you to shame in the presence of a human ruler — a man of dust who rules for a season, and then gives up the office — how can you set it before the Lord of hosts, whose name is feared among the nations? The priests had turned the order upside down. They praised men and blasphemed God. Their best was for those who could promote them and their scraps for God.

This caution is expressed in the first pages of the Bible. Cain brought only an offering, and God disregarded it; Abel brought the firstlings of his flock and their fat portions (Genesis 4.3–5). Nadab and Abihu carried strange fire before the Lord, fire He had not commanded, and learned in a single terrible moment that “by those who come near Me I will be treated as holy” (Leviticus 10.3). God has never let us worship him the way we want to. He defines what is pleasing to Him, and He sees—always—when we swap the convenient for the commanded and the leftover for the firstfruit.

Why God Prefers Closed Doors to Empty Ritual

Then comes the verse that should make every casual worshiper stop in their tracks: “Oh that there were one among you who would shut the gates, that you might not uselessly kindle fire on My altar!” (Malachi 1.10). Read it slowly.  God would rather the temple remain dark than host a charade. He has no love for ritual. He doesn’t care for being buttered up with attendance figures. Heaven doesn’t want our smoke; it weighs our hearts. The same God told Israel through Isaiah that He was fed up with sacrifices from people full of wrongdoings (Isaiah 1.11–15). He also said through Amos that He wouldn’t listen to their music while their lives dishonored Him (Amos 5.21–23).

Why is it so serious? Worship isn’t a tax that God takes; it’s a joy He calls us to. Fake joy offends Him more than silence. “Serve the LORD with gladness” (Psalm 100.2) is not decoration on the command. It is the command. The priests of Malachi’s day sniffed at the altar and sighed, “My, how tiresome it is!” (Malachi 1.13), and in that sigh they revealed everything. A bored worshiper delivers a sermon with each yawn: this God isn’t worth my delight. But those who see Him truly cannot stay bored, for “God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4.24) — with the whole inner man ignited, and according to the pattern He has revealed.

Grace That Instructs: Reverence as the Fruit of Salvation

A critic will say Malachi thundered under the Old Covenant, but we live under grace. And that is precisely why the bar rises, not falls. Listen to what grace does: “For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all men, instructing us to deny ungodliness and worldly desires and to live sensibly, righteously and godly in the present age” (Titus 2.11–12). Grace instructs. Grace disciplines. Grace trains the redeemed heart to revere, not to relax. Any concept of grace that encourages disregard for God has been imported from outside the Bible.

The writer of Hebrews, standing on this side of the cross, presses the point further than Malachi ever did: “let us show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable service with reverence and awe; for our God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12.28–29). Notice the order of things: gratitude, then acceptable service, then reverence and awe. Grace doesn’t lower the temperature of worship; it raises it. Indeed, we must live in fear while we are here on earth. We are redeemed not by perishable silver or gold, but by the precious blood of Christ (1 Peter 1.17–19). The more expensive our pardon, the greater our respect should be. Worship that is cheap disrespects a costly cross.

Giving God Your Best: A Call to Wholehearted Worship

Make these questions personal. When the Lord’s day comes, is your heart ready, or just your schedule? When the congregation sings, do you give melody with your heart to the Lord, or do you move your lips while your mind wanders the week? As the plate passes, is your offering like David’s expensive gift or Cain’s convenient one? When the Word is preached, do you lean in as one who hears from the throne, or do you endure it as one who waits for lunch? God demands nothing of us but what He has already given us. Paul arrives at the only reasonable conclusion: “present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship” (Romans 12.1). Not the leftover hours. Not the blemished remainder. Your mind, your body, your Monday and Sunday, all of them laid out on the altar.

Return to the man in the throne room, pardon in hand, apple on the stairs. And think of the opposite: a forgiven man walking in trembling joy, laying his very best at the King’s feet, because the pardon taught him what the King is worth. Be that man. Be that woman. Close the gates of empty ritual in your own soul, and light instead a fire God will not scorn — the whole burnt offering of a thankful life.

God’s grace is a gift. It is never an excuse to treat Him lightly.

The Quality That Won The War For Independence

Neal Pollard

This week is the 250th anniversary of the birth of America, as July 4, 1776, was the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Because of this incredible milestone, I have been rereading David McCullough’s classic, simply entitled 1776. It is a captivating chronicle of one of the most monumental events in all human history. What this nation has achieved and the freedom and opportunity its citizens enjoy is unparalleled in so many ways.

As powerful, prosperous, and influential as the United States is on the world stage in 2026, the fledgling, ragtag people seeking its independence from the British was far different. McCullough writes that 1776 was “a year of far too few victories, of sustained suffering, disease, hunger, desertion, cowardice, disillusionment, defeat, terrible discouragement, and fear, as they would never forget, but also of phenomenal courage and bedrock devotion to country, and, that too, they would never forget” (294).

McCullough says this in the context of the leadership of George Washington, whom he describes as without brilliance as a strategist and tactician, not an orator or intellectual, and a general who had made “serious mistakes in judgment” (293). Yet, he preached “perseverance.” McCullough includes quotes from several of Washington’s letters to congress, officers, and general orders where he passionately admonished patience, courage, and perseverance. As McCullough informs us, “the war was a longer, far more arduous, and more painful struggle than later generations would understand or sufficiently appreciate. By the time it ended, it had taken the lives of an estimated 25,000 Americans, or roughly 1 percent of the population” (294).

Perseverance is “the capacity to hold out or bear up in the face of difficulty” (BDAG, 1039). That quality helped a humble, tiny, and outmatched fledging nation emerge victorious against seemingly impossible odds. We still reap the benefits of their endurance.

Far greater than this nation and this world, the Christian must relentlessly fight for something that is literally timeless. Regarding this war, God through His inspired writers urges “perseverance” dozens of times. We must bear fruit with perseverance (Luke 8:15). We must do good in pursuit of eternal life by perseverance (Romans 2:7). Our proven good character is forged by perseverance (Romans 5:3-4). Our hope is shaped by perseverance (Romans 15:4). We are commended as servants of God through perseverance (2 Corinthians 6:4). We are strengthened with all power by perseverance (Colossians 1:11). Spiritual warfare is won by perseverance (1 Thessalonians 1:3; 2 Thessalonians 1:4). The man of God pursues perseverance (1 Timothy 6:11). Perseverance is essential to receive what God has promised (Hebrews 10:36). We must run the spiritual race with perseverance (Hebrews 12:1). Through perseverance, we can be made perfect and complete, lacking in nothing (James 1:4)–like Job (James 5:11). Perseverance is one of those Christian graces that will get us to heaven (2 Peter 1:6). Christ commends multiple churches of Asia Minor for having perseverance (Revelation 2:2-3, 19; 3:10).

The odds are stacked against us. We are Christian soldiers more apt to gaffes and missteps than brilliant tactics and strategies (1 Corinthians 1:26-27). At so many turns, our efforts seem futile and pointless. But, with God’s help and guidance, we are guaranteed victory (1 John 5:4). However, we must not quit!

I am proud to be an American, but I am also reminded by God that “our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:20). I cannot let physical and material blessings, even liberty and freedom, to keep me from pursuing “a better country” (Hebrews 11:13-16). The quality that makes the difference in our spiritual fight is perseverance!

Don’t give up the fight!

What Gets You Up In The Morning?

Dale Pollard

In Romans one we find that Paul feels a great debt to the lost in the world around him because he’s got a message from above that people need to hear from him. He’s strongly convinced that if he doesn’t speak up, he hasn’t only failed spiritually but he’s failed the people who pass him by. Later in his letter he’ll write, 

“Brethren, my heart’s desire and my prayer to God for them is for their salvation. For I testify about them that they have a zeal for God, but not in accordance with knowledge. For not knowing about God’s righteousness and seeking to establish their own, they did not subject themselves to the righteousness of God. For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes.” – Roman’s 10.1-4

From these verses we can learn a thing or two about the life of Paul and it serves as a mirror that reflects back to us our own priorities. 

His heart: It’s filled with a desire to spread the message of salvation to others. 

Paul is motivated by the amount of people walking around in darkness. What motivates us? What provokes us to action? For Paul, it was simple. There’s a great number of lost people in the world and we’ve been given an uncertain amount of time to make that number smaller. 

His eyes: They’re looking for those who might be saved. 

Paul is looking for those with a zeal for God, but who aren’t following Him correctly. There are people who are on fire for God, but their fire is misdirected. In other words, we should be looking for that fertile soil. 

His mind: Understands that there’s only one law and one path that the saved are walking. 

Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes. The righteous are the only people who truly believe. That belief is in the singular way to God. Paul was an effective soul winner because he was convinced that there are lost people who will remain lost if he doesn’t act. He was convinced that God’s way is the only way, and he is responsible for the opportunities to share that message with those God places in his life. 

If our motivation isn’t to seek and to save the lost, our priorities must be rearranged. 

What makes you get up in the morning?