Tag: Christianity

The Integrity Test

Gary Pollard

[Note: Gary, as well as Dale and Carl, attended the Future Preachers Training Camp in Denver, CO, for several years. The following is Gary’s sermon from June, 2007, when he was 13 years old]

A farmer called on a wealthy Englishman to inform him that a pack of his hunting dogs had destroyed a part of his crop. The gentleman asked how much that part of the crop was worth. The farmer thought $100 would do it (quite a sum in those days). The gentleman wrote him a check immediately. As harvest approached, he noticed that the trampled part produced better than the rest. He went straight to the wealthy Englishmen, intending to return the check. The Englishman was extremely pleased and said, while writing him a check for twice the amount, “Hang on to this. And when your son is come of age, give him this and tell him the occasion that promoted it.”

Integrity Prevails.

An example is my illustration. He could have kept the generous check and put it toward an extra good crop. But, instead, he was honest and tried to return the money and got twice as much. In Psalm one, it mentions the ungodly as a number of things. All point to no integrity. Some warring tribes believed that in battle a warrior inherited the spirit of the one killed. What kind of spirit would the victor inherit? The same principle applies in Christianity. What would you leave behind? Would that person be honest? Would you leave integrity?

The Man Of Integrity

Psalm 1:1 is about what the man of integrity doesn’t do, who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly. Who does not stand in the path of sinners. Psalm 1:2 states what the man of integrity does do. His delight is in the law of the Lord. In His law he meditates day and night.

The Ungodly Have No Integrity

“The ungodly are not so, but are like the chaff which the wind drives away.” We have seen in the first three verses about the godly man and his reward. In verse four and five, we see the ungodly and their punishment.

The Rewards Of Integrity

Proverbs 20:7 says, “The righteous who walks in his integrity—blessed are his children after him!” You could be tested for anything in life. In Vacation Bible School, Dean Murphy was talking about how Satan tempts you by what you want most, but might not be good or you might not need. Another good tool for fighting temptation would be integrity.

The story of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife is a good example of integrity. He was put to the test (Gen. 39:7-12). He could have given in any time she asked. He used integrity and was able to withstand the temptation to commit sin. If Joseph had given in to this temptation, he would have been condemned.

Even as Christians, we can have a lack of integrity. Say you go to Walmart and you get a bag of Almond Joy Minis. It happens to fall to the very bottom of your cart. After you get to your car, you look at your receipt. They didn’t ring up the Almond Joy. You have two choices. You can go back and pay for it or you can take it home. If you take it home, the devil has won and your integrity has suffered. If you go back and pay for it, the devil has lost. Your integrity remains intact. In many cases, it will be much harder to have integrity.

We are all going to have our integrity tested. Some tips to strengthen your integrity include reading your Bible, praying often, and being honest. Let us be people of integrity.

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.”

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.

ONE GOSPEL, MANY RESPONSES

Neal Pollard

The killing of Stephen was the grim harbinger of a new era for the early church, spawned by the actions of the young man introduced to us in Act 7:58. Saul inadvertently helped the church to further its move to do as Jesus foretold, going from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria (Acts 1:8). Ironically, it would be this man Saul who would help Christianity and the Lord’s church go to “the remotest part of the earth” (Acts 1:8; 13:1ff; Rom. 10:18; Col. 1:23). For now, Saul stands opposed to Christ and His people.

Acts 8 gives us the specifics. He “was in hearty agreement with putting [Stephen] to death” (1). That very day a “great persecution began against the church in Jerusalem” (1), scattering it. While they took time to bury Stephen, Saul “began ravaging the church” (3). This was invasive, violent, and life-altering for Christians, but they responded by “preaching the word” (4).

One of the seven men selected to help the church feed the Grecian widows in Acts 6, Philip, “went down to the city of Samaria and began proclaiming Christ to them” (5). They paid attention to what he said as they saw the signs he performed (6). His deeds were so remarkable that it brought great joy to the city (8), even a renowned magician, Simon, was among the many believers who believed Philip’s preaching and submitted to baptism (9-13). With so many new disciples in the city, word reached the apostles who sent Peter and John to Samaria to lay hands on them so that they would receive the Holy Spirit (14-17). This caught Simon’s eye, as one widely proclaimed in the city as “the Great Power of God” (10), and he sought to buy this gift (18-19). Peter rebukes Simon, urging him to repent of such wickedness so that he might be forgiven (22). Simon was poisoned and enslaved by his unrighteous desire to have the gift possessed by the apostles to cause faith in the gospel (23-24). 

There is only one message being shared by Philip and the other Christians. It is called “the word” (4), “proclaiming Christ” (5), and “preaching the good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ” (12). Yet, there are three distinct responses to that singular gospel. Saul represents one response–hatred, opposition, and violence. Simon represents another–an opportunity to enrich and exalt self. The Samaritans represent yet another–faith, obedience, and rejoicing. It is incredible that this one message could elicit such diverse reactions from different people, but it still happens that way today.

Some are totally turned off by the message, others want to use it for personal means, and still others are deeply convicted by its truth and desire to follow it. Our job is not to judge who is or isn’t worthy recipients; instead, as they did in Acts 8, we are to spread it. It is still God’s power to save believers (Rom. 1:16). We leave that part to Him. Our part is to preach and proclaim it. 

Romans 13: Respect Caesar, Surrender to Christ

Brent Pollard

Christians often experience an inner tension when considering their relationship with civil government. We belong to a heavenly kingdom whose values frequently stand in sharp contrast to the world around us, yet we remain citizens of earthly nations—subject to laws, rulers, and civic obligations that demand our attention and participation. Scripture does not ignore this tension. Instead, God’s Word provides principles that help believers navigate their dual citizenship with clarity, humility, and unwavering faith.

The apostle Paul reminds us that entering the brotherhood of Christ does not sever our connection to the broader human community. While the church thrives on humility and sacrificial love, the civil sphere requires submission to authority and the pursuit of justice toward our fellow citizens. Far from being contradictory, these obligations are complementary expressions of Christian discipleship lived out in the real world.

Why Christians Should Submit to Government: The Practical Case (Romans 13.1-4)

Paul opens his instruction with a command that echoes through the centuries: “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities” (Romans 13.1). This is not blind compliance but thoughtful, conscientious obedience rooted in practical wisdom.

At the most basic level, civil government exists to accomplish specific purposes: promoting order, restraining wrongdoing, and encouraging what is beneficial to society. “For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad,” Paul writes. “Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval” (Romans 13.3). Laws—when rightly administered—serve the common good, providing the stability and protection necessary for human flourishing.

Think of it this way: A ship requires a captain, a household requires order, and a society requires governance. Without structure, chaos reigns. Roads crumble, courts fail, emergency services disappear, and defense collapses. These necessities do not materialize from thin air—they require resources, planning, and the coordinated effort that only organized government can provide.

It is reasonable, then, for Christians to obey the law in their general conduct. Lawful behavior benefits both the individual and the community. Similarly, paying taxes and other civic dues is not merely a burden imposed by the state but a contribution toward maintaining public order and security (Romans 13.6-7).

Yet Scripture presses us beyond mere outward compliance. Paul speaks of rendering “to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed, respect to whom respect is owed, honor to whom honor is owed” (Romans 13.7). Even in civil matters, the heart must be engaged. Respect for authority is not simply about avoiding penalties; it reflects an inner disposition shaped by reverence and integrity. Mechanical obedience—though better than rebellion—falls short of what God expects from His children.

The Higher Foundation: God’s Sovereignty Over All Authority (Romans 13.1-2)

While practical reasoning can justify civic obedience—the desire to avoid fines and penalties—the Christian’s motivation runs far deeper. Submitting to governing authorities is not just sensible; it is divinely commanded. Paul declares the foundation plainly: “For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment” (Romans 13.1-2).

This is the bedrock truth that transforms civic duty from pragmatic necessity into spiritual worship: God Himself stands behind human authority. The Old Testament confirms this reality throughout its pages. Job declares that God “makes nations great, and destroys them; He enlarges nations, and leads them away” (Job 12.23). Daniel proclaims that “the Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom he will” (Daniel 4.25; see also Daniel 2:21). Even pagan rulers exercise power only because God, in His inscrutable wisdom, has permitted it.

Nebuchadnezzar learned this lesson the hard way. This mighty king was humbled—literally driven to eat grass like an animal—until he acknowledged that “the Most High rules in the kingdom of men and gives it to whom He will” (Daniel 4.32). Jesus Himself reminded Pontius Pilate, “You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above” (John 19.11).

These passages confront us with a stunning reality: No government rises or falls apart from God’s providence. Authority is not a purely human invention or the result of social contracts alone. It exists because God, in His sovereign wisdom, has ordained the structures necessary to maintain order in a fallen world. To resist lawful authority without biblical cause, therefore, is not merely to defy human institutions but to rebel against the divine order God has established.

This does not mean that every action of every ruler is morally right or that Christians owe absolute obedience to human commands. Scripture itself records moments when obedience to God required civil disobedience—when Peter declared, “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5.29), or when Hebrew midwives defied Pharaoh’s infanticide (Exodus 1.17). But these are exceptions that prove the rule. The default posture of the believer is submission, not suspicion; respect, not rebellion; honor, not contempt.

How to Honor Imperfect Rulers: Seeing God’s Hand in Human Government (Romans 13.4)

Perhaps the most challenging aspect of Paul’s teaching is learning to see God’s hand at work in imperfect—even deeply flawed—human institutions. This requires spiritual vision that penetrates beyond the visible to the invisible.

Rulers are fallible. Governments make unjust decisions. Leaders disappoint us. Yet Paul wrote these very words to Christians living under Nero, one of history’s most despicable tyrants, a man who would soon ignite the first great persecution of the church. Still, Paul calls him “God’s servant for your good” and “the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer” (Romans 13.4).

How can this be? Because God’s purposes transcend human wickedness. He uses even unjust rulers to accomplish His sovereign will—sometimes through their good actions, sometimes despite their evil ones. Joseph understood this when he told his brothers, “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good” (Genesis 50.20). God’s ability to work all things together for His glory does not excuse human sin, but it does mean that no human ruler operates outside the boundaries of divine providence.

This perspective transforms how we engage with civil authority. When Christians obey the law, pay their taxes, and show honor to those in positions of leadership, they do so not merely for pragmatic reasons or from servile fear, but as an act of reasonable service. Paul emphasizes this: “Therefore one must be in subjection, not only to avoid God’s wrath but also for the sake of conscience” (Romans 13.5). Civic responsibility becomes a spiritual discipline. The ordinary duties of citizenship are transformed into opportunities to glorify God.

This biblical vision guards us against two opposite errors. On one side, we avoid the idolatry of placing ultimate hope in governments, political parties, or charismatic leaders. On the other side, we reject the cynicism that treats all authority with contempt and every civic obligation with resentment. Instead, we acknowledge government’s limited but real role under God’s greater rule, participating faithfully while keeping our ultimate citizenship in heaven (Philippians 3.20).

Living as Citizens of Two Kingdoms: Practical Steps for Today

The Christian life does not retreat from the public square—it redeems it. Just as Paul instructs us to do everything “to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10.31), our civic engagement is part of our Christian walk. Here are practical ways to live out Romans 13 in our daily lives:

First, cultivate a posture of respect. Even when you disagree with policies or disapprove of leaders, maintain respectful speech and behavior. Remember that God has placed them in authority, however temporarily (1 Timothy 2.1-2).

Second, fulfill your civic duties faithfully. Pay your taxes honestly and completely. Obey traffic laws. Serve on juries when called. Vote thoughtfully and prayerfully. These mundane acts become sacred when done “as to the Lord” (Colossians 3.23).

Third, pray consistently for those in authority. Paul commands us to pray “for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” (1 Timothy 2.2). Prayer acknowledges God’s sovereignty while interceding for His purposes in government.

Fourth, know when to say no. While submission is the rule, obedience to God takes precedence when human laws directly contradict divine commands. But let this be a last resort, exercised with wisdom, humility, and willingness to accept the consequences (Acts 5.29; Daniel 3.16-18).

Finally, maintain your eternal perspective. Governments will rise and fall. Political parties will gain and lose power. Leaders will come and go. But the throne of heaven remains unshaken. Our hope rests not in Washington, London, or any earthly capital, but in the New Jerusalem where Christ reigns eternally.

The Christian Difference in a Polarized Age

In an era of bitter political polarization, pervasive mistrust of institutions, and constant outrage, Christians have a unique opportunity to model a radically different spirit—one marked by humility, respect, and unshakable confidence in God’s sovereignty.

We can disagree without demonizing. We can advocate without idolizing. We can submit without compromising our ultimate allegiance to Christ. This is not weakness but strength—the strength that comes from knowing that “the king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the LORD; he turns it wherever he will” (Proverbs 21.1).

Paul’s words in Romans 13 invite us into this paradox: We submit to earthly authority precisely because we belong to a heavenly kingdom. We honor human rulers precisely because we worship the King of Kings. We engage politically precisely because our citizenship is ultimately elsewhere.

And because God reigns—truly reigns, not as a distant concept but as the living Lord who governs nations and guides history—His people can submit without fear, obey without resentment, and honor without compromise, trusting that the Most High still rules in the kingdom of men.

This is how Christians navigate the tension between heaven and earth: not by escaping the world, but by bringing the kingdom’s values into it; not by grasping for power, but by wielding influence through faithful presence; not by placing ultimate hope in any government, but by honoring all governments under the Government of God Himself.

In this way, even our relationship with earthly authorities becomes a testimony to the reign of our heavenly King.

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.

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book II, Ch. 5.2)

Gary Pollard

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

First of all, they should be required—by their own definitions—to show, if they can, that the Creator is just in punishing people strictly according to what they deserve: those who perished in the flood, the inhabitants of Sodom, or those who left Egypt. We often see crimes committed today that are more wicked and horrible than those attributed to these earlier people, but we don’t see every sinner immediately punished. 

Will they say, then, that the Creator, who was once just, later became good? Or will they claim instead that he’s still justice-oriented now, but is patient with human sinfulness. At that earlier time, though, was he was not even justice-oriented, since he killed innocent infants along with the violent and ungodly adults? Such conclusions arise because they do not know how to understand scripture beyond the literal level. Otherwise they would be able to explain how it is literally morally right for punishments to be “inflicted on your children to the third and fourth generation.” We do not understand such statements in a crude, literal way. Following the example of Ezekiel and his parables, we seek the deeper meaning contained within them.

They must also explain how God can be justice-oriented (rewarding each according to what they deserve) if he punishes earthly-minded people or even the devil himself, when (according to their theory) these beings weren’t capable of any action other than evil. For if they were created with a corrupt and ruined nature, as they claim, then they were incapable of doing good. In that case, God would appear to judge natures, not actions. But if a bad nature cannot do good, and a good nature cannot do evil, then reward and punishment become meaningless.

Next, if the God whom they call good is truly good to everyone, then he must also be good to those who are said to perish. Why, then, does he not save them? If he has no desire to save them, he is no longer good. If he wants to save them but cannot, then he’s not all-powerful. Why don’t they listen instead to the Father of our master Jesus Christ in the Gospels, who prepares fire for the devil and his angels? How, according to their view, can such a severe and sorrowful judgment be attributed to the good God?

Even the savior Himself—the Son of this so-called good God—declares that if miracles had been performed in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But when he comes near their territory, he deliberately does not enter those cities or perform those signs for them. Why not, if it were certain that they would repent? By refraining from doing so, he leaves them to destruction—even though the Gospel itself testifies that they were capable of repentance, and therefore not irredeemably corrupt by nature. Consider also the parable in which the king enters to inspect the guests at the wedding feast and finds one man without proper wedding garments. He says to him, “Friend, how did you come in here without a wedding garment?” and then orders his servants, “Bind him hand and foot, and cast him into outer darkness; there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

Let them tell us: who is this king? Is he the same God whom they call just? If so, why did he first command that both good and bad alike be invited, without having the servants examine their worthiness? Such behavior reflects not a God who judges strictly according to deserts, but one who extends generosity indiscriminately. If this parable must be understood as referring to the good God—whether Christ himself or the Father of Christ—what further objection can they raise against divine justice? Indeed, what judgment do they accuse the God of the law of rendering that is more severe than ordering a man—invited freely along with others—to be bound hand and foot and cast into outer darkness because he was found unprepared?

IRONY IN JOB

Dale Pollard

In Job you find all kinds of interesting things like references to the earth’s rotation (Job 38.14), ocean floor vents (38.16), and even the movement of star clusters like the Pleiades (38.31).

But, there are a couple of powerful verses that also include a heavy dose of irony.

“Oh, that my words were recorded, that they were written on a scroll, that they were inscribed with an iron tool on lead, or engraved in rock forever!”

Job 19.23-24

A moment in the middle of Job’s pain and agony he seems to cry out those words, but they’re buried under many other laments and arguments concerning his terrible situation. The reader, though, already knows all of this because later in life Job wrote down his pain, questions, and his defense– on a scroll and engraved them forever. Just like he wanted!

Well, he desired to be remembered accurately. Job isn’t just venting. He wants future readers to know that his suffering was real and that his struggle with God came from a good place of honesty, not rebellion. An eternal scroll was proof that his story mattered to God, but also a reminder that God could in fact hear every word at a time when he felt like God couldn’t.

At the same time, this moment shows Job’s faith wrestling out in the open for all of us to benefit from. He believed that truth ultimately matters, even if it is not recognized right away. Ironically, Job’s wish is fulfilled. His words are preserved and read thousands of years later. What felt like a desperate plea is turned into his story of suffering before God that wasn’t wasted. God hears it all and answers every cry of confusion, and He can turn it into a lasting story of faith.

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book II, Ch. 5.1)

Gary Pollard

Since some people give weight to the claim made by the leaders of the heresy we are discussing (i.e. they established a division between justice and goodness, and have even applied this division to divine things) we have to respond to them as briefly as possible.

They argue that the Father of our master Jesus Christ is a good God but not a just one, while the God of the law and the prophets is just but not good. According to them, goodness consists in granting benefits to everyone indiscriminately, even those who are unworthy and undeserving of kindness. But in my judgment, they misapply this definition because they assume that suffering and hardship aren’t beneficial at all. 

Justice, on the other hand, they define as the quality that assigns to each person what he deserves. Yet here too they misunderstand their own definition. They assume that justice means sending evils upon the wicked and benefits upon the righteous. The just God appears to not care about the good of the wicked at all, but to act toward them with something like hostility.

To support this view they collect examples from the Old Testament where divine judgment is described: the punishment of the flood and the destruction of those who perished in it; the overthrow of Sodom and Gomorrah by fire and brimstone; and the deaths of the people in the wilderness because of their sins, so that none who came out of Egypt entered the promised land except Joshua and Caleb. By contrast, from the New Testament they assemble sayings marked by mercy and compassion, which Jesus used to train his disciples. They appeal especially to the statement that “no one is good except God alone,” and on this basis they dare to call the Father of Jesus Christ the good God, while asserting that the God who made the world is another deity altogether—whom they describe as just, but not good.

Stick Up For The Unborn

Dale Pollard

Jeremiah was a man who faced many challenges and hardships. He was someone who was intimate with failure and let down— but God’s reminder to him is the same for us today. He was designed with a purpose before he was born. 

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations” (Jer. 1.5).

All humans are premeditated in their formation but are born first in the mind of God. That’s something worth thinking about. Our minds are incomprehensible in their complexity and our bodies came stock with a piece of eternity called the “soul.” 

The King of Kings had a hand in every  atom that makes up the body. 

According to ancestry.com, 

“Your DNA could stretch from the earth to the sun and back ~600 times.” 

Suzanne Bell is a chemist at West Virginia University and she estimates that a 150-pound human body contains about 6.5 octillion (that’s 6,500,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000) atoms.

Jeremiah’s job was to speak on behalf of God to the people of his day. He was created for that purpose. Today our job is the same. A prophet is simply a mouthpiece for God and we were created to be a mouthpiece on behalf of the same God for the people of our day. The Bible tells us that He has a huge heart for the helpless. How is abortion even a thing? The most helpless are killed before they even see sunlight and God’s people shouldn’t get desensitized to that sort of evil. Speak up for the little guys (and girls).

You remember when the Bible actually recorded a reaction from the unborn baby’s perspective? 

“And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit” (Luke 1.41).

We’re all fearfully and wonderfully made, according to Psalm 139:13-14, and that includes the unborn.

Look Deeper

Neal Pollard

While ancient writers like Origen have been rightly criticized for their overcommitment to an allegorical interpretation of Scripture (every book, often every verse, person and event, being interpreted as having a hidden, deeper, and moral meaning), the Bible is rightly known as “the deep things of God” (1 Cor. 2:10). One of the major synonyms of the gospel in the New Testament is “the mystery” (Rom. 16:25; Eph. 3:3-5; Col. 1:26; etc.). Jesus often couched His teaching in parables, “And He was saying to [the apostles], “To you has been given the mystery of the kingdom of God, but those who are outside get everything in parables, so that while seeing, they may see and not perceive, and while hearing, they may hear and not understand, otherwise they might return and be forgiven” (Mark 4:11-12). In many ways, Scripture teaches that while truth is so often easy and knowable (John 8:32), there are “some things hard to be understood” (2 Pet. 3:16).

One of the major impediments to our comprehension is us! If we are truly interested in knowing something, most of us have the mental capacity and faculties to learn it. Without that incentive, however, we often see without perceiving and hear without understanding. At times, we can let prejudices and preconceptions serve as barriers between ourselves and accepting Bible truths. Paul addresses some like this in 2 Corinthians. They apparently believed in the Old Testament but they could not see Christ in it. Paul describes them in this way, that “their minds were hardened” (3:14) and “a veil lies over their heart” (3:15). While Paul is illustrating this truth by referring to the time Moses came down from Sinai with the tablets of stone, it applies to more than those who could not see Christ in the Old Testament (3:15). 

Paul says, “And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing, in whose case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelieving so that they might not see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God” (4:3-4). He reveals the condition of those who refuse to seek God’s will in His Word: “perishing.” He reveals the cause of their resistance: “the god of this world.” He reveals the consequences of their resistance: “unbelieving.” He reveals the cost of their resistance: “not see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ.” 

The Bible is an understandable book, but we must apply ourselves. We must not only read, but meditate (Ps. 1:2; 119:97), search (John 5:39; 1 Pet. 1:10), pursue (1 Tim. 6:11), seek and search (Pr. 2:4), be diligent (2 Tim. 2:15), incline our hearts (1 Ki. 8:58), and really be ready to do whatever it takes to grasp the message of Scripture. So often, it is not that the Bible is conceptually difficult. Instead, we discern a cost or a call for change. That’s when it becomes difficult to open our hearts and submit ourselves to divine truth. But, if we will be the blessed person David describes in Psalm one or the person Paul describes as turning to the Lord and being transformed, we must commit to always looking deeper to know what God would have us to do. Be encouraged! “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. ‘For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened'” (Mat. 7:7-8). 

The Danger of Tradition: When Human Custom Replaces God’s Word

Brent Pollard

The Unexpected Birth of a Christmas Tradition

Christmas Day 2025 has already passed. In Japan, where Shinto and Buddhism are part of daily life, Jesus Christ is often seen as just one deity among many—if acknowledged at all. As a result, most Japanese do not observe Christmas as a religious holiday on December 25. Instead, the holiday has become a romantic occasion for couples, more like Valentine’s Day than a Nativity celebration. Interestingly, since the 1970s, a tradition has persisted: to properly celebrate Christmas in Japan, people should eat fried chicken, especially from KFC.

This story shows how easily tradition can take hold in fertile ground. Takeshi Okawara, Japan’s first KFC manager, allegedly heard foreigners complain that turkey was hard to find in Japan, so they had to settle for chicken during Christmas. This casual remark inspired an idea. Okawara saw a chance to promote “party barrels” as the perfect Christmas celebration. Since Japan didn’t have strong Christmas customs, KFC found a valuable niche in the food industry, which was exactly what the franchise needed to grow.

How Marketing Became Tradition

In 1974, KFC Japan introduced its famous Kurisumasu ni wa Kentakkii! campaign—”Kentucky for Christmas!” The campaign’s success surpassed expectations. By 2019, around 5% of KFC Japan’s yearly revenue came from Christmas sales. During the holidays, customers must pre-order their party barrels weeks ahead since they sell out fast. Long lines form outside locations featuring Colonel Sanders statues dressed as Santa Claus, blending commercial symbols in a way that might surprise Western observers.

If you asked the Japanese about their Christmas tradition, they’d surely say fried chicken is the holiday’s proper food. Many are surprised to learn Americans eat turkey, not KFC, on Christmas. Interestingly, young Japanese now prefer KFC for Christmas because their grandparents started this practice long ago. In only 51 years, what started as a marketing stunt has become a genuine part of Japanese culture.

The Innocence of Cultural Misunderstanding

Japan’s misinterpretation of Christmas customs is harmless—simply a mistaken understanding of cultural practices far removed from their roots. However, this highlights a deeper spiritual risk that requires our careful reflection. We tend to be creatures of habit, often confusing familiarity with genuine faithfulness. What starts as an innovation by one generation can quickly become a duty for the next, leading us to forget to question whether our actions are truly aligned with the truth.

When Jesus Confronted Tradition

However, some customs require our careful attention. Jesus Christ sharply criticized the religious leaders of His era because they forsook God’s commandments to prioritize their traditions (Matthew 15:3; Mark 7:8-9, 13). His words resonate through time: “You are experts at setting aside the commandment of God in order to keep your tradition.” (Mark 7.9 NASB95)

If you had asked these leaders about their practices, they probably would have confidently claimed that their traditions fully aligned with Moses’ Law. These customs, after all, had been preserved through generations of faithful Jews, supported by the weight of history and validated by respected teachers. Certainly, this alone demonstrated their legitimacy.

The Sovereignty of God’s Word Over Human Custom

Yet Jesus, with divine authority, revealed how these traditions deviated from His Father’s original commands. This offers a serious warning to all generations of believers. God’s sovereignty extends not only to salvation but to every aspect of worship and obedience. We do not decide what pleases God through majority opinion or tradition. God has spoken, and His Word alone is authoritative (2 Timothy 3.16-17).

The Pharisees believed that their detailed fence laws safeguarded God’s commands, but in reality, these traditions became obstacles that kept people from approaching God as He intended. They overlooked—or never understood—that God requires genuine obedience, not just the outward observance of religious rituals (1 Samuel 15.22; Hosea 6:6).

The Call to Examine Our Own Practices

This is more than just a history lesson for our curiosity. Let us take the core message of the application: Which traditions have we accepted uncritically? What practices do we maintain just because they have always been done that way, rather than because of the commands or approval in Scripture?

We need to regularly reassess our traditions and practices to confirm they reflect the truth—Jesus Himself stated that God’s Word is truth (John 17.17). The religious leaders during Jesus’ era were so immersed in their traditions that they failed to recognize how far they had strayed from God’s revealed will. Today, we encounter the same risk.

Practical Steps for Guarding Against Empty Tradition

We shouldn’t just recognize this danger; we need to take concrete measures to protect against it. This is advice for every Christian who aims to worship God in spirit and truth (John 4.24):

Begin by cultivating the habit of asking, “Where is this written?” When someone claims that a practice is vital to Christian faith or worship, consult the Scriptures to verify if it truly is (Acts 17.11). The Bereans were praised not for blindly accepting teachings but for diligently testing them against God’s Word.

Second, differentiate clearly between issues of faith and issues of opinion. Romans 14 directly addresses this, indicating that certain practices are explicitly commanded or forbidden and must be followed. Other issues are part of Christian liberty, allowing sincere believers to hold different views without opposing God’s will. Confusing these categories can result in legalism or license—both serious mistakes.

Third, understand that sincerity alone does not justify mistakes. The Pharisees sincerely believed their traditions honored God. However, genuine sincerity does not turn disobedience into obedience or human customs into divine laws. As Proverbs 14.12 NASB95 states, “There is a way which seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.”

The Spiritual Reality Behind Religious Performance

Religious tradition often serves as a substitute for a genuine relationship with God. It is much simpler to follow inherited rituals than to develop a meaningful connection with the living God. While tradition calls for mere conformity, authentic worship requires transformation.

Reflect on how we often find comfort in familiar routines. The Pharisees felt secure in their traditions because these practices were predictable, controllable, and measurable. They could simply check off requirements and think they were righteous, all while neglecting God’s Word in their hearts. Jesus highlighted this superficial religiosity: “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far away from me. But in vain do they worship Me, teaching as doctrines the precepts of men” (Matthew 15.8-9 NASB95).

The Origin and Significance of Our Traditions

It’s crucial to honestly consider where our traditions originate and what they truly mean. Are they rooted in Scripture, or have they developed through cultural choices, historical happenstance, or well-meaning but unauthorized changes?

Some traditions are simply matters of convenience or custom—neither mandated nor prohibited by Scripture. We may choose to keep or change them based on wisdom. However, when tradition conflicts with Scripture or supersedes God’s actual commands, we must have the courage to set aside human traditions and follow divine authority.

The religious leaders Jesus challenged had broken God’s clear commandments by following their own traditions. He pointed out their use of “Corban”—a practice where resources were declared dedicated to God to bypass the fifth commandment’s demand to honor parents (Mark 7.10-13). Despite this apparent contradiction to God’s Law, they vigorously defended their tradition. It shows how easily tradition can blind us!

Ensuring Our Customs Serve Rather Than Supplant Truth

We need to stay alert to make sure customs do not mask the true intent of our actions. This awareness calls for more than just occasional checks—it requires ongoing dedication from hearts committed to Scripture’s authority. We must uphold the principle that Scripture alone should be the ultimate authority in faith and practice.

Reflect on these important questions: If all traditions were taken away, would your faith stay strong because it is based on God’s Word? Or would losing familiar practices make you feel lost and uncertain? Are you worshipping God in line with His revealed will, or just following the accepted ideas of past generations?

The Jerusalem church encountered this challenge when tradition risked overshadowing truth. Jewish Christians, ingrained in ancient practices, found it difficult to accept that Gentile converts did not have to follow ceremonial laws to be saved. God intervened to clarify that salvation is by grace, not by obeying traditional rules (Acts 15.1-29; Galatians 2.15-16).

The Freedom Found in Scriptural Authority

Here’s a liberating truth: By grounding our faith and actions in Scripture rather than tradition, we find freedom rather than limitations. God’s Word serves as a lamp to guide us and a light to illuminate our path (Psalm 119.105). His commands are not burdensome but bring life (1 John 5.3). Letting go of unapproved traditions allows us to open our hands and receive what God truly intends to give.

The Japanese will keep celebrating Christmas with KFC, unaware that this fifty-year-old tradition isn’t linked to actual Christmas customs. While this harmless confusion causes no harm, problems arise when religious tradition replaces divine command and human customs overshadow biblical truth. In such cases, the core foundation of faith is compromised.

Walking in Truth Rather Than Tradition

Let’s honestly assess our hearts and actions. Instead of asking “What have we always done?” we should focus on “What has God commanded?” We should seek worship rooted in Scripture rather than sentiment, doctrine grounded in revelation rather than routine, and obedience driven by love for God rather than mere human expectations.

As we transition from this Christmas season into the new year, let us renew our commitment to the primacy of Scripture. May we find the courage to let go of traditions that oppose God’s Word, wisdom to preserve practices that align with His purposes, and discernment to distinguish between them. Ultimately, our accountability is to God, who has spoken plainly through His Word and calls us to obey Him rather than human traditions (Acts 5.29).

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.

How Congregational Singing Rewires Our Desires:God’s Design for Spiritual Transformation

Brent Pollard

 Modern neuroscience offers terms and insights confirming a core biblical truth: our embodied, habitual practices shape desires and loyalties, drawing us toward or away from God. This central thesis—that repeated actions shape our desires and faith—resonates across both Scripture and scientific concepts such as dopamine pathways, oxytocin bonding, and neural plasticity. Though Paul lacked neuroscientific knowledge, his command to “be filled with the Spirit” and engage in corporate worship (Ephesians 5.18-19) reveals this enduring principle: repeated communal practices shape our souls and determine spiritual direction.

This is not to reduce the spiritual to the chemical or make sin a neural glitch. We caution against such reductionism, as explaining away the body undermines the explanation itself. Instead, we affirm God made us integrated—body and soul—and His commands for Christian living address all of life. When Scripture tells us to sing, it is not empty ritual, but divine wisdom through human formation.

Herein lies a sobering truth: the neurochemical systems God designed for spiritual growth and holy community have a dual potential. These systems can also be redirected to reinforce sinful behaviors or forge harmful, ungodly bonds. Clarifying this dual capacity shows that biblical worship practices are not arbitrary but serve as intentional means to transform our desires toward godliness and protect our hearts for God’s glory.

The Double-Edged Nature of Desire: When Good Design Meets Fallen Hearts

Dopamine is often called the “pleasure chemical,” but this simplifies its role. It drives anticipation, motivation, and reward-seeking, leading us to pursue goals and form habits. Each rewarding experience strengthens involved neural pathways, making repetition more likely. This process underpins learning, mastery, and addiction.

Hebrews warns that sin can “entangle” us (Hebrews 12.1), and neuroscience explains how. Each time sinful behavior brings pleasure—through sexual immorality, drunkenness, covetousness, or rage—dopamine reinforces neural pathways linked to that sin, making repetition easier and resisting harder. The drunkard’s brain craves alcohol; the immoral person’s neural pathways deepen ruts of lust.

Solomon asks, “Can a man take fire to his bosom and his clothes not be burned?” (Proverbs 6.27). No. Sin burns because it exploits bonding, pleasure, and motivation systems. Salvation submits to authority; sin is rebellion. Repeated rebellion embeds biochemical pathways, weakening the will.

Oxytocin, the “bonding hormone,” promotes trust, attachment, and cohesion. It helps mothers bond with infants, spouses unite, and communities form, but does not distinguish between holy and unholy bonds. Whether connecting to Christ’s body or binding an adulterer to a mistress, oxytocin strengthens whatever bonds recur.

This clarifies Paul’s warning: “Do not be deceived: ‘Bad company ruins good morals'” (1 Corinthians 15.33 ESV). The corruption is not just philosophical but neurological. Time with those who mock holiness releases oxytocin, bonding believers to them and leading them to oppose faithfulness to Christ. Such fellowship feels good chemically, yet diverts the heart from God. Men are judged by the company they keep and reject.

With these examples in view, the dilemma is clear: systems that foster holiness can also nurture wickedness. Desire is neutral until directed. Our brains are shaped by repeated practice; the question is which practices shape us, and for what purpose.

Why God Commands Congregational Singing: Worship as Neural Reprogramming

Paul repeatedly emphasizes the importance of congregational singing. In Ephesians 5.19, believers are commanded to sing together, and in Colossians 3.16, the instruction is nearly identical. These are not casual suggestions, but apostolic imperatives given under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit.

God cares whether His people sing because singing engages body, mind, emotion, and community. Singing is formative: it guides desires toward God, reinforces truth through repetition, and fosters shared confession. The early church sang not for performance or preference, but to align with God’s truth.

God is most glorified in us when we find joy in Him. Congregational singing cultivates that satisfaction. As believers sing of Christ’s excellencies, neural pathways are rewired. Dopamine that signaled anticipation of sin now signals anticipation of worship. Oxytocin that bonded to worldly friendships now bonds to the body of Christ. Desire is reordered—not by willpower, but by God’s gracious, embodied design.

Singing content matters. Paul says to use “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs”—not entertainment or emotional manipulation. The “word of Christ” must dwell richly (Colossians 3.16), ensuring songs are theologically meaningful. Shallow, repetitive choruses stir feeling but lack teaching. Even beautiful, heretical lyrics poison the mind. Thoughts shape feelings; feelings guide actions. What we sing shapes belief, desire, and behavior.

Singing as Resistance: Countering the Threefold Temptation

John identifies three primary ways the world corrupts desire: “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the boastful pride of life” (1 John 2.16). These—sensual cravings, covetousness, and arrogance—have fueled human sin since Eden (Genesis 3.6). Congregational singing quietly challenges each.

The flesh seeks gratification—gluttony, drunkenness, immorality, indulgence. Singing involves the body without temptation. Lungs expand, diaphragm contracts, vocal cords vibrate—active participation without excess. The body is disciplined for sacred purposes. Serving God with strength brings joy. Singing helps believers find satisfaction in worship, not excess.

Desire of the eyes stirs covetousness—constantly comparing and inviting discontent. Singing shifts focus from acquiring to adoring. Believers praise together, not judging status but looking to Christ (Hebrews 12.2). This moves us from comparison to contemplation. As Paul says, “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (Colossians 3.2 ESV). Congregational singing is a practical way to realign the mind.

The pride of life seeks recognition and elevation. Congregational singing balances pride by blending voices; no one dominates, all harmonize. Whether wealthy or struggling, all sing the same words in the same key, offering equal contribution. Pride comes from having more than others; singing counters this by uniting individuals.

Replacing congregational singing with performances undermines God’s design. Spectator worship makes believers passive consumers, reinforcing laziness, covetousness, and pride—traits singing counters. Worship is not entertainment; it is transformative.

Redemption as Re-embodiment: Reclaiming Desire for God’s Glory

The gospel renews both soul and body. Christ’s incarnation, death, burial, resurrection, and promised return affirm that redemption involves the whole human person. As Paul says, “Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (Romans 12.1 ESV). The body is essential to worship, not an afterthought.

This is the heart of the matter: God’s instructions—including the command to sing together—are designed to reclaim and shape desires toward His glory. Redeeming both our spiritual and neurological tendencies, these embodied practices counter the world’s misuses and point us toward wholeness in Christ.

This is not manipulation but a gracious design. God, who knows how He made us, provides ways for us to be conformed to His Son’s image (Romans 8.29). Congregational singing is one such way—sharing confession, mutual encouragement, and reshaping desires. When we sing together, we participate in something beyond ourselves: the transformation of desire through God’s power working within community.

The transformation happens gradually. Neural pathways don’t rewire overnight, nor do sinful habits vanish instantly. Yet, as believers sing truth together week by week, something shifts: Christ’s word becomes richer, desires realign, bonds strengthen, and the body matures. This reflects God’s plan for spiritual growth—incremental, communal, and embodied in singing together.

Conclusion: Lift Your Voice, Reorder Your Heart

We live in an era that best understands desire. We know how habits form, bonds strengthen, and pleasure pathways are hijacked. Yet, we are more enslaved to disordered desire. Addiction rises, loneliness grows, and the relentless pursuit of satisfaction leaves many empty. It is time to reconsider our relationship with desire and intentionally pursue healthier, more fulfilling ways forward.

In this cultural moment, the ancient practice of congregational singing takes on new urgency. God’s command for His people to sing together wasn’t a mere ritual; it was a way to reclaim, redirect, and redeem desire. This embodied act serves as a form of resistance to the threefold temptation that enslaves the world and fosters a community whose bonds transcend death.

The question is whether we will embrace God’s gifts or replace them with more culturally accepted options. Will we gather weekly to sing with whole body, mind, and heart engagement? Will we demand content that is theologically rich and biblically grounded? Will we teach the next generation that worship is active participation, not passive consumption, in transforming desire?

The stakes are often higher than we realize. Repeated practice shapes our character. Singing truth allows it to take root; singing together strengthens bonds of love; singing to God cultivates a desire to seek Him above all. This is not just theory but the lived experience of believers throughout history, who have found that congregational singing does more than express faith—it shapes it.

Lift your voice and join your brothers and sisters. Let Christ’s word dwell richly within you. In a world that seeks to hijack your desires, practice what God designed to reclaim them for His glory. As you sing, trust that God is reshaping your appetites, reordering your loves, and conforming you to the image of His Son. This is worship as God intended: not entertainment, but transformation; not performance, but participation in the redemptive remake of desire.

Walking Worthy

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brent Pollard

Understanding Divine Timing in Your Spiritual Growth

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

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

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

Why Spiritual Maturity Cannot Be Rushed

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

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

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

Growing in Knowledge: When Understanding Deepens Through Experience

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

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

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

Character Formation: How God Refines Us Through Failure

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

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

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

God’s Preparation Has Purpose: Your Growth Blesses Others

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

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

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

From Earth to Eternity: Faithfulness Now Prepares Us for Heaven

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Desiring God

Carl Pollard

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

  • Psalm 37:4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whom have I in heaven but you? 

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

My flesh and my heart may fail, 

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

  • Psalm 73:25–26

Whiter Than Snow

Dale Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Dangerous Lie We All Believe

Neal Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

Immortality

Carl Pollard

Immortality

“the ability to live forever, eternal life.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come, Lord Jesus.