This Is How They’ll Know

Carl Pollard

Have you ever walked into a room and immediately known what mattered there? Walk into someone’s house and see family pictures covering the walls, and you know what matters. Walk into a teenager’s room and see posters, trophies, instruments, and jerseys, and you get an idea of what matters to them. Usually, what matters eventually becomes visible.

That raises an important question. If someone walked into our congregation knowing absolutely nothing about us, what would tell them that we belong to Jesus?

Jesus gave an answer on the night before He died. “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you… By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” John 13:34–35

Jesus calls love a commandment. That means biblical love has to be more than an emotion. You can’t command chemistry or warm feelings, but you can command patience, kindness, forgiveness, sacrifice, service, and compassion.

That becomes especially important because the closer you get to people, the more of their flaws you see. From a distance, everybody is fairly easy to love. Get close enough and you’ll discover annoying habits, disagreements, selfishness, bad days, and disappointments. And they’ll discover the same things in us! 

Jesus never said His people would always be easy to love. He simply said, “Love one another.” Then He raised the standard even higher. “Just as I have loved you.”

Think about who was sitting around Jesus when He said those words. Peter would deny Him. Thomas would doubt. The disciples would scatter. Judas had already arranged to betray Him. Yet Jesus had just knelt down and washed their feet.

Jesus loved imperfect people. He loved people who disappointed Him. Within hours, He would go to the cross for them. That’s our standard! And Jesus says the world should be able to see it.

They see it when Christians visit the hospital, bring food to a grieving family, forgive each other, notice the lonely, check on someone who’s missing, carry burdens, and genuinely enjoy being together.

None of those things will make headlines, but they make Jesus visible.

There will be times when your faith is strong and you’re carrying someone else. There will also be times when you walk through the church doors barely holding it together and someone has to carry you.

That’s why God gave us one another.

May we become the kind of church where someone can spend time around us, watch how we treat each other, and leave thinking, “Those people really belong to Jesus.”

Because Jesus said, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples.” This is how they’ll know.

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.

Feeling “God-Like” In Your Gut

Neal Pollard

There is a noun in the New Testament that means to show kindness, mercy, or concern for someone in serious need. It is typically translated “compassion” (cf. Matthew 9:13; Titus 3:5; Hebrews 4:16). But, there is a verb translated “to feel compassion for, have pity on, and have one’s heart go out to someone” (Swanson, np). John Frederick adds, “This verb is similar to what is expressed in modern language as a feeling in one’s ‘gut’ or ‘heart’ of deep empathy for another person” (Lexham Theological Wordbook, np). The difference seems to be in intensity and depth of feeling. With but one exception, the word is reserved for God toward humanity and is only found in the gospels. Notice:

  • Jesus felt compassion for the distressed and dispirited (Matthew 9:36).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the sick and their loved ones (Matthew 14:14).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the hungry (Matthew 15:32; Mark 8:2).
  • God is illustrated by the master of a slave who felt compassion for a deeply indebted man (Matthew 18:27).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the blind (Matthew 20:34).
  • Jesus felt compassion for those in need of leading and guiding (Mark 6:34).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the distraught (Mark 9:22).
  • Jesus felt compassion for the grieving (Luke 7:13).
  • God is illustrated by the prodigal’s father who felt compassion for the penitent (Luke 15:20).

Here’s a remarkable truth. Every one of us knows people in those circumstances–discouraged, suffering with illness or medical conditions, in material need, not sure what to do, in emotional pain, grieving, or struggling with sin. Who does God expect to feel for these people? How does He want us to show it?

Consider the lone exception mentioned earlier, the passage not referring to God but to man. It’s very familiar to us, found in one of Jesus’ parables. He says, “But a Samaritan, who was on a journey, came upon him; and when he saw him, he felt compassion…” (Luke 10:33). Keep reading and you will see that his deep, intense feelings led him to address the needs of the man (34-37).

Think about all the people you know right now who are in need of a Good Samaritan. Who needs a meal, a visit, some help, your time, your comforting, or just your listening ear? Both those in and out of a right relationship with Christ are longing for someone to feel deeply for them and be moved to help them. Yes, it will be inconvenient and even costly, but in doing what needs done you will be imitating God as closely as anything you’ll ever do.

The Rebuke Michael Would Not Speak

Brent Pollard

God buried Moses Himself. No procession wound down from Nebo, no mason cut a name into stone, no pilgrim has ever knelt at that grave: “And He buried him in the valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth-peor; but no man knows his burial place to this day” (Deuteronomy 34.6). Into that silence, Jude opens a keyhole. A dispute erupted over that body. Michael the archangel stood on one side; the devil stood on the other. Heaven’s warrior faced hell’s accuser across the corpse of Israel’s greatest prophet. Yet the arresting detail is not the power Michael commanded. It is the sentence he declined to pronounce.

Rejecting Authority and Reviling Angelic Majesties

Jude wrote to congregations already compromised. Certain persons had “crept in unnoticed” (Jude 4), men who turned the grace of our God into licentiousness and denied our only Master and Lord. Their doctrine bred a temperament, and the temperament exposed the doctrine. “Yet in the same way these men, also by dreaming, defile the flesh, and reject authority, and revile angelic majesties” (Jude 8).

Three symptoms, one disease. A man who indulges his body soon resents anyone who restrains it, and a man who resents restraint eventually insults the throne that imposed it. Korah walked that road (Numbers 16.3; Jude 11). He dressed ambition in the language of equality and told Moses he had gone far enough. The ground answered him. Jude’s opponents claimed dreams as their credential and slander as their sport, reviling “the things which they do not understand” (Jude 10). Ignorance seldom humbles the arrogant. It emboldens them.

Michael the Archangel and the Limits of Delegated Authority

In Jude 8, Jude warns that false teachers fail to respect divinely appointed authority. In the next verse, he uses Michael the archangel as an example of showing respect, acknowledging that he did not speak presumptuously about the devil in his argument with him over Moses’ body, but rather left judgment to God. We should not infer that the devil held a higher rank than Michael. Instead, Michael understood the limitations of his own authority and left the ultimate condemnation to the Lord.

Scripture never paints Michael as timid. Daniel calls him “one of the chief princes” (Daniel 10.13) and “the great prince who stands guard over the sons of your people” (Daniel 12.1). John watched him wage war against the dragon (Revelation 12.7). Here stands a creature who can fight Satan and win, and he still refuses to sentence him. Peter observed the same restraint: angels “who are greater in might and power do not bring a reviling judgment against them before the Lord” (2 Peter 2.11).

The mightiest servant in the created order holds a commission, not a crown. He works within borders, and those borders do not insult him; they secure him. The angels of Jude 6 who abandoned their proper abode now wear eternal chains.

“The Lord Rebuke You”: Judgment Belongs to the Throne

Michael’s answer came out of a courtroom. Zechariah watched Joshua the high priest stand before the angel of the LORD, filthy garments and all, Satan at his right hand to accuse him. The verdict descended from above the bench: “The LORD rebuke you, Satan! Indeed, the LORD who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you! Is this not a brand plucked from the fire?” (Zechariah 3.2). Michael quoted that sentence rather than composing one. He argued; he did not revile. He contended; he did not curse.

Our Lord walked the same road in the flesh. “While being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously” (1 Peter 2.23). Entrusting. The word pictures a deposit handed across a counter. Christ did not swallow the injustice. He transferred it. Paul draws the same line: “Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God” (Romans 12.19). James presses harder still: “There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the One who is able to save and to destroy; but who are you who judge your neighbor?” (James 4.12).

A joy hides here that the resentful never taste. If judgment belongs to God, then I am relieved of a burden I was never engineered to carry. The verdict will be rendered, flawlessly, by One who misses nothing and exaggerates nothing. My restraint costs me the pleasure of the last word. It purchases the peace of a settled universe. That trade favors me enormously.

Grace That Governs the Tongue in an Age of Railing

The men Jude condemned twisted grace into permission. Genuine grace does the reverse: it appears, and then instructs “us to deny ungodliness and worldly desires and to live sensibly, righteously and godly in the present age” (Titus 2.11-12). Grace teaches. Grace disciplines. Grace reaches the mouth.

Test yourself where testing hurts. When elders decide against your preference, do you appeal, or do you campaign? Hebrews 13.17 commands us to obey our leaders and submit to them, “for they keep watch over your souls as those who will give an account.” When a magistrate rules foolishly, can you tell the truth about the policy without shredding the man? Paul, struck illegally at his own hearing, withdrew his sharp reply the instant he learned Ananias’ office: “YOU SHALL NOT SPEAK EVIL OF A RULER OF YOUR PEOPLE” (Acts 23.5). David, hunted like an animal, held Saul at the edge of his blade at En-gedi and cut nothing but a robe’s corner. Even that troubled his conscience: “Far be it from me because of the LORD that I should do this thing to my lord, the LORD’s anointed” (1 Samuel 24.6).

Now carry that to a keyboard. Every believer owns a printing press, and most of us publish before we pray. Screens flatten people into targets, and contempt tastes sweet at two in the morning. The command has not moved: “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear” (Ephesians 4.29). Malign no one. Be peaceable, gentle, showing every consideration for all men (Titus 3.2). Naming error plainly is not railing; the apostles named names. Railing begins the moment we seize a gavel God reserved for Himself.

Take Your Place Beneath the Throne

Michael won his dispute by refusing to escalate it. He named the Judge and stepped back. Every believer meets that fork, usually in small rooms and short conversations. A coworker slanders you. A ruler abuses his office. In that moment, you may snatch the gavel, or you may say what Michael said.

Say what Michael said. Guard your mouth as jealously as your doctrine; the two rise and fall together. Honor the authorities God has installed, including the flawed ones, and hand Him everything beyond your jurisdiction. Give thanks tonight that the Judge of all the earth will do right, and that the sentence you deserved fell upon His Son instead of upon you. Then live as a servant who knows his commission, loves his limits, and trusts his King.

Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations are taken from the New American Standard Bible (1995).

The Danger Of Normal

Carl Pollard

One of the most dangerous things about the wrong road is that it rarely feels wrong. And in Matthew 7:13, Jesus warns, For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many.”

Why is the broad road so dangerous? Because it feels normal. It’s wide. It’s comfortable. It’s crowded. There’s plenty of room, and nobody has to change very much to travel it. You can carry your pride, your bitterness, your greed, lust, selfishness, and your own version of truth. There’s plenty of room for all of it.

That’s why the broad road is so popular.

Imagine two hiking trails. One is wide, paved, and crowded with thousands of people. Along the way are signs saying, You’re doing great. Follow your heart. Live your truth. Do whatever makes you happy.

The other trail is narrow. It’s steep and rocky, and relatively few people are walking it.

Which trail naturally feels like the right one?

Probably the crowded one. There’s something reassuring about looking around and seeing thousands of people going the same direction. We think, Surely all these people can’t be wrong.

Jesus says they can.

Popularity is a terrible test for truth.

There were more people outside Noah’s ark than inside it. There were more Israelites worshiping the golden calf than standing against it. Most of the spies believed Canaan couldn’t be conquered. And when Jesus stood before Pilate, the crowd shouted for Him to be crucified.

Truth has never depended on a majority vote.

Yet we’re still deeply influenced by what everybody else is doing. Social media has only amplified this. An opinion gets 500,000 likes, and suddenly it feels authoritative. A behavior becomes accepted by everyone around us, and eventually it starts feeling normal.

And once something feels normal, we can stop asking whether it’s right.

That may be one of the greatest dangers Christians face today. We can become more concerned with being normal than being holy.

Paul warned in Romans 12:2, “Do not be conformed to this world.” The world is constantly trying to press us into its mold. The frightening part is that we can conform so gradually that we hardly notice it happening.

Maybe we need to ask ourselves a difficult question, If everybody around me completely agrees with the way I live, which road am I traveling?

Following Jesus will eventually make you different. Not strange for the sake of being strange. Not rude. Not arrogant or self-righteous. Different because Jesus is different.

The narrow road won’t always feel normal. It won’t always be popular. There may be moments when you look around and wonder why so few people seem to be traveling with you.

But the size of the crowd has never determined where a road ends.

Jesus tells us where it ends.

The broad road leads to destruction.

The narrow road leads to life.

How To Make The Best Of A Bad Situation

Dale Pollard

Rattlesnakes are large, venomous snakes that live throughout North and South America. In my humble opinion, they are one of the most terrifying creatures on the planet–from the hair-raising sound of that rattle to those intimidating fangs that can be up to six inches long. The bite from one of these monsters is excruciatingly painful. If you were to be bitten, at first you would experience a tingling feeling, followed by an intense burning sensation. After this you would feel lightheaded and begin sweating profusely. Your vision would become blurry, and each breath would be more strained than the last one.

If left untreated, it can be fatal to humans. All of that sounds terrible doesn’t it? What good could possibly come from a deadly rattlesnake? Well, at some point in history, somebody looked at these snakes and decided that they would make a beautiful pair of boots. That’s how to make something great, out of something terrible. There is no doubt in my mind that the inventor of snakeskin boots was an optimist. He could see the good, even when staring into the dark vertical pupils of pure reptilian evil.

When faced with hardship, that simply comes from living in a fallen world, it can be a challenge to see the silver lining in each dark cloud. American basketball player, Charles Barkley once said, “Sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel is a train.” That’s definitely how it can feel sometimes! Although we have books in the Bible like Job and James that teach us how we should view our earthly struggles, here are just a few reminders from our God.

Number one, remember that each day is worth rejoicing over. Psalm 118:24 gives us the reason why— because today is another day that the Lord has made. It’s not my day; it’s God’s day. Reminder number two, what we can’t see in times of difficulty, is worth waiting for. Paul would inform us in Romans 8:27, “But if we hope in what we don’t see, we wait for it with patience.” In the muck of life it may feel at times that there’s just no way out. Just because you may not see the end in sight, rest assured that our hope is in a promise that was put in place before time itself began (2 Timothy 1:9). The last reminder is simply this, that God made the world you are living in and Jesus is currently creating the world we will one day live in (John 14:1-3). I firmly believe each day that passes can only mean that heaven will be that much more beautiful. If God created this world in six days, in all it’s beauty, imagine the splendor of our home to come. Now, if that doesn’t make a bad situation a good one, I don’t know what will! Here are the lyrics to an optimistic hymn that I hope get stuck in your head for quite a while.

“I care not today what tomorrow may bring, if shadow or sunshine or rain. The Lord I know ruleth o’er everything, and all of my worry is vain. Living by faith in Jesus above, trusting confiding in His great love. From all harm safe in His sheltering arm, I’m living by faith and feel no alarm.”

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.

Can I Lose My Salvation

Carl Pollard

That is one of the most important questions a Christian can ask. In this day and age, many believe that once a person is saved, salvation can never be lost. No matter what happens afterward, their eternal destiny is secure.

That sounds comforting. But is it what the Bible teaches?

Scripture definitely teaches that Christians can have confidence in their salvation. John wrote, “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life” (1 John 5:13). We don’t have to live every day terrified that one mistake has erased our salvation.

But confidence isn’t the same as impossibility. The New Testament repeatedly warns Christians about the danger of turning away.

Paul told the Corinthians, “Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall” (1 Corinthians 10:12). You can’t fall from a position you were never in.

In Galatians 5:4, Paul says it even more plainly, “You are severed from Christ…you have fallen away from grace.” Whatever else we say about that verse, Paul clearly believed it was possible for someone connected to Christ and His grace to abandon that relationship.

Peter gives a warning when he describes people who had “escaped the defilements of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,” but then became entangled in sin again (2 Peter 2:20–22). Their problem wasn’t that they had never escaped. They went back!

Like a branch connected to a vine, Jesus said, “Abide in me” (John 15:4). Then He warned that if anyone doesn’t abide in Him, “he is thrown away like a branch and withers” (John 15:6). The warning only makes sense if leaving is possible.

Does that mean we should constantly wonder, “Did I sin too much today? Did God stop loving me?” Absolutely not.

Our salvation isn’t so fragile that every stumble destroys our relationship with God. Christians still sin, and “if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us” (1 John 1:9). Peter denied Jesus three times, yet Jesus restored him.

There’s a huge difference between stumbling while following Christ and deciding to stop following Christ.

God isn’t looking for an excuse to keep you out of eternity. He wants you saved. He gave His Son to make salvation possible. But He also refuses to remove our freedom to walk away.

So, can I lose my salvation? Biblically, yes.

But maybe the better question is, am I abiding in Christ? Stay close to Him. Keep walking in the light. When you fall, get back up.

The same Savior who warns us not to leave is the Savior who promises, “Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life” (Revelation 2:10).

The Assumption Of Moses

Dale Pollard

The Assumption of Moses

 One of the strangest references in the New Testament appears in the tiny letter of Jude. Jude makes a passing reference to a supernatural confrontation that seems to have taken place immediately after Moses’ death:

“But when the archangel Michael, contending with the devil, was disputing about the body of Moses, he did not presume to pronounce a blasphemous judgment, but said, ‘The Lord rebuke you.’” Jude 9

That raises an obvious question:

Why was Satan arguing with Michael over Moses’ body?

The Old Testament tells us that Moses died on Mount Nebo and that God buried him, but it gives no explanation for what happened afterward:

“So Moses the servant of the LORD died there in the land of Moab… and he buried him in the valley in the land of Moab… but no one knows the place of his burial to this day.” Deuteronomy 34.5–6

Jude’s statement is therefore unusual because it introduces a supernatural dispute that is not recorded in Deuteronomy.

The Book of Moses’ Assumption

One ancient Jewish work appears to relate to Jude’s mysterious reference, and it’s called the Assumption of Moses (Assumptio Mosis), a Jewish text probably originating around the first century AD. Early Christian writers knew the work, and Jude’s wording appears closely connected with the tradition.

The second-century Christian writer Origen In De Principiis (On First Principles), Book 3, chapter 2, writes that Michael and the devil disputed concerning the body of Moses and makes mention of the Assumption of Moses as well.

The surviving manuscript breaks off before the relevant material, leaving us with one frustrating gap in the evidence.

Why Did Satan Want the Body?

Ancient commentators offered possibilities, but Scripture never gives us the answer.

One possible explanation relates to Moses’ murder of the Egyptian (Exodus 2.11–12). Satan could have been portrayed as accusing Moses before God because of his past sin.

Another possibility is that the dispute concerned Moses’ body itself and God’s purpose for it. Moses had been uniquely chosen by God, appeared with Elijah at the Transfiguration (Matthew 17.1–3), and had a unique death and burial.

There is also another detail in Jude’s wording. Michael does not personally condemn Satan. Instead, he says:

“The Lord rebuke you.”

The point appears to be that even an archangel doesn’t arrogantly pronounce judgment on Satan by his own authority.

Whatever the original dispute involved, Jude clearly presents it as a genuine supernatural confrontation—interesting enough on its own.

And perhaps the strangest part is what Scripture leaves out.

Moses’ body was buried by God. Its location was never revealed. Yet Jude tells us that, somewhere beyond the human story, “heaven and hell” were apparently concerned with what happened to it.

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.

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.

Why Doesn’t God Just Kill The Devil?

Carl Pollard

This is a question that has been asked for centuries. If God is all powerful, why doesn’t He just kill Satan? In order to adequately answer this question we will need to look at a few different aspects of the Devil himself, as well as the attributes of God.

It’s not hard to find evidence of a world filled with sin, and logically it would make sense for God to just destroy the source of the problem…or would it? Let’s notice a few things about Satan.

Where did he come from? In Genesis 1:31, God sees His creation and it says, “everything was very good.” All of God’s work was perfect. From this we can conclude that Satan started off as good and became evil. While Scripture doesn’t reveal his exact origin, it says enough for us to draw a logical conclusion. For example, 2 Peter 2:4, Matthew 12:24, and 25:41 point to Satan as the leader of a groups of angels that have abandoned heaven. So we have to ask, why was Satan cast out of Heaven?

Based on the previous verses and what we read in Jude 6, the angels were created with free choice. And Peter explains that the angels sinned (2 Peter 2:4). We read the phrase “The Devil and HIS angels” so Satan was most likely the leader and instigator of this rebellion in heaven. Satan tried to rebel against God and failed miserably and will face the consequences of his actions (Revelation 20:1-3). Since Satan cannot win against God, he now wants to get payback by taking his anger out on God’s creation.

So why doesn’t God destroy Satan? Aside from the fact that he’s an angel and killing him would be different from killing a human, we run into another issue.

Even if Satan were destroyed, man would still sin. James 1:14 tells us that as humans we are carried away by our OWN desires, and these desires lead to spiritual death. Satan doesn’t cause everyone to sin, at every location on earth, because he doesn’t have this kind of power. Even if God destroyed Satan, there would still be sin on earth.

There is one other aspect we must look at in order to answer this question; What is the definition of good? Without evil, how can good exist? If God is good, then evil must exist. Without darkness, how can we recognize light? There is balance and perfection in everything.

We are given free will, and if there were no other choice except faith in God, we would not have faith by choice. We would have faith by force. I think about when I was younger and got in a fight with my siblings. Mom would force us to hug each other. That hug was not done out of love, but by mom telling us to get it done. Do you prefer to be loved by choice or by force?

Satan will get what he deserves, but God is defined as a God of love. If God took away our free choice (either to serve Him or sin) then He would be a God of Force. God has the power to destroy Satan, but in doing so we would still be in a fallen world filled with sin. God loves us enough that He wants us to come to Him by choice. This is something each one of us should strive to do.

Seneca’s Search

Gary Pollard

The following passage was written by Lucius Annaeus Seneca (c. 4 BC — AD 65) in Book I of Naturales quaestiones. There’s a decent chance that he was born the same year as Jesus of Nazareth. These seven books are certainly an interesting read, but I found his Preface to Book I especially fascinating. Reading this brings to mind, “God wanted people to look for him, and perhaps in searching all around for him, they would find him. But he is not far from any of us” (Acts 17.27). And, “There are things about God that people cannot see — his eternal power and all that makes him God. But since the beginning of the world, those things have been easy for people to understand. They are made clear in what God has made. So people have no excuse for the evil they do” (Rom 1.20). Seneca (and many of his predecessors, contemporaries, and spiritual descendants) looked for meaning and goodness in that aspect of reality that cannot be seen. Christ did come “at just the right time”! We’re reading an excerpt from a pagan historian and naturalist today because it gives valuable insight into aspects of the culture, worldviews, and concepts of the transcendent (as well as a refined understanding of words and concepts used in the first century) held by many when Christ and his followers operated on earth. 

Lucilius, my much esteemed friend — While a great gulf separates philosophy from the other learned arts, there is to my mind an equally wide gulf in philosophy itself between the portion which relates to human conduct and that which deals with the nature and the power of heaven. The latter is more exalted and more speculative, it allows itself wide liberty. It is not satisfied with mere observation, it surmises that there is a greater and fairer realm placed by nature beyond human sight. Between these two divisions of philosophy, in short, there is as wide a gulf as between their subjects, God and man. 

The one teaches us what should be done on earth; the other, what is done in heaven. The one dispels our errors and flashes a light by which to thread the mazes of life; the other far transcends this gloom in which we grope, rescues us from the darkness, and leads us to the very source of light itself. For myself, I am grateful to nature, not so much when I see her on the side that is open to the world, as when I am permitted to enter her shrine. Then one may seek to know of what stuff the universe is made, who is its Author or Guardian, what is the nature of God. Is He wholly absorbed in Himself, or does He sometimes regard us? does He do something daily, or has He done once for all? is He a portion of the world, or the whole world? may He issue new decrees even to-day and thus modify the laws of fate, or is it an infringement of His majesty and an acknowledgment of error to alter what has once been made? for surely the same must always please Him who can be pleased only with what is best. Nor yet withal is His freedom or power diminished, for He is a law unto Himself. 

Life would have been a useless gift, were I not admitted to the study of such themes. What cause for joy would it be to be set merely in the number of those who live? In order to digest food and drink? To repair a diseased, enfeebled body, that would perish unless it were continually refilled, and thus lead the life of a sick man’s attendant? To fear death, to which our very birth destines us? Away with the priceless boon! Life is not worth the heat and the sweat. How despicable a creature is man, unless he rise above the earth! What great thing can we do as long as we have to wrestle with our passions? Even if we prevail, we but conquer monsters. What cause have we to esteem ourselves because we are not quite so bad as the very worst? I can see no great reason for self-satisfaction because one’s strength is rather above the average of those in the same hospital. You are still very far from good health and vigour. Or, again, you have escaped vices of soul, the hypocrite’s brow, the flatterer’s speech fashioned to serve another’s will, the dissembler’s heart, the miser’s spirit, which robs all, but yet mortifies itself. You are a prey neither to luxury, which loses basely and repairs its losses still more basely; nor to ambition, which leads to place of worth only by unworthy means. But yet you have accomplished nothing. You have escaped many perils, but not yet that of self. 

The virtue we aim at raises to a splendid eminence; not so much because escape from vice is in itself a blessed thing, but rather because the soul is emancipated, prepared for the knowledge of heavenly things, and rendered worthy of entering into communion with God. 

Clarke, J. (1910). Physical science in the time of Nero, being a translation of the Quaestiones Naturales of Seneca. Macmillan & Co., London. pp 54-55

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.