Often, we panic or worry. Or we despair and even give up. We may talk like Elisha’s servant, who seeing the Syrian army surrounding them, cried, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” (2 Kings 6:15). The problems, pressures, and pains of life can so gouge us that we are ready to come unglued!
Neal Pollard
What does a bull running amuck along the streets of Pamplona think about? If they have thoughts and they live to gore, then one particular bull may have been pretty pleased with his results. He gored two brothers, Lawrence and Michael Lenahan, simultaneously, in the annual running of the bulls festival. Fortunately for both of them, their wounds did not prove to be fatal (details here).
When we tackle a problem head on, determined to be decisive, we often say we are “taking the bull by the horns.” This phrase probably comes either from rounding up cattle or bullfighting. It assumes the person has control of (or is trying to take control of) a situation. However, what do you do when the situation seems to be taking control of you? What do you do when the bull has you by its horns?
Often, we panic or worry. Or we despair and even give up. We may talk like Elisha’s servant, who seeing the Syrian army surrounding them, cried, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” (2 Kings 6:15). The problems, pressures, and pains of life can so gouge us that we are ready to come unglued!
What’s the answer? Elisha’s prayer holds the key when we’re gored with grief and stuck by sorrows. He pleads, “O LORD, please open his eyes that he may see” (17). In response, “the LORD opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (17).
When you are in the midst of a painful problem, you may not actually see the power and protection of heaven in such a visible, dramatic way. But be assured that you serve the same God with the same power! He will never leave us or forsake us (Heb. 13:5).
As you find yourself running down the narrow way (cf. Mat. 7:13-14), you are prone to attack from one who’s set his sights on you. He may not actually have horns, but he has ways to try and afflict you (cf. 2 Cor. 2:11; 12:7; Eph. 6:11,16). Trust this. “Greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world” (1 John 4:4).
[Editor’s Note: Gary is translating the Ante-Nicene Fathers works, beginning with Origin’s work. It is meant to update the British English of Roberts and Donaldson. What follows is part of that translation]
To illustrate the nature of falling away—or spiritual defection—among those who live carelessly, it seems appropriate to use an analogy. Imagine someone who has steadily grown in their knowledge of a discipline, such as geometry or medicine, until they have achieved mastery through long and diligent practice. We don’t think it possible that they could go to bed fully skilled and then wake up completely ignorant of their craft. Of course, we’re not referring here to cases of injury or illness, which fall outside the scope of this illustration. As long as this expert continues to study and practice their discipline, their knowledge remains intact. But if they stop practicing and abandon their habits of discipline, because of neglect their grasp on the subject will begin to weaken—first a little, then increasingly more—until eventually, their knowledge fades altogether and is entirely lost from memory.
However, it’s also possible that when this decline first begins—when the person starts slipping due to a subtle but corrupting negligence—they might still recover. If they are awakened to their condition early enough and return quickly to their previous diligence, they can restore what they’ve only recently begun to lose and reclaim knowledge that had not yet been deeply erased. Now let’s apply this to those who pursue the knowledge and wisdom of God—a pursuit that far surpasses any earthly study in depth and value. Consider, through the lens of this analogy, what it means to gain divine knowledge—or to lose it—especially when we reflect on the words of the apostle, who says that the perfect will see the glory of the Lord face to face in the revelation of His mysteries.
In our effort to highlight the divine blessings given to us by the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—the source of all holiness—we’ve digressed somewhat from our main point. While speaking about the soul, which came up incidentally, we touched briefly on a related matter concerning human nature. With God’s help, through Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, we hope to return more fully, at the appropriate time, to a fuller discussion of all rational beings, which are classified into three types and distinct categories.
She is careful about how she approaches the various duties of the home, which she rules and oversees. She adopts a wise, God-approved character. This leads her to bless all who are in various relationships with her. Husbands do well to approach their duties, character-development, and relationships in the same way.
Neal Pollard
The book of Proverbs ends with an investigation (chapter 31). The writer, whether Lemuel is making observations or passing along his mother’s sage guidance, leads the search. He writes how rare and valuable an excellent wife is (31:10). It is a literary masterpiece, an acrostic poem (each verse begins with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet), a chiasm (“a rhetorical or literary figure in which words, grammatical constructions, or concepts are repeated in reverse order, in the same or modified form,” Apple Dictionary, 2.3.0). You would diagram the outline of the chiasm like this: A B C B A. The chiasm was a literary way to show the heart or focus of a specific section of Scripture. It would be readily identified by a Jewish reader, but it enriches our study when we understand that it’s intentionally there. The heart of this poem is verse 23: “Her husband is known in the gates when he sits among the elders of the land.” The net effect of the kind of wife described here is that it blesses her spouse’s life. That should be the goal of every married person, to raise others’ view of him or her through the righteous conduct of our life. What is the character of the wife described here?
She is prized and praiseworthy (10, 30-31).
Her husband and home are profited by and praise her (11-12, 28-29).
She is a hard worker (13-19, 27).
She is generous with her material things and her wisdom (20, 26).
She is not ruled by worries and fears (21,25).
She dresses her children and house well and she dresses her character well (21-22, 24-25).
Some have used this poem to try and hold up a “Renaissance Woman,” an ideal so unrealistic that no woman could ever live up to her standard. These have had too narrow a view of the author’s purpose. He is trying to demonstrate the kind of approach that a wife, in this context, should take to her role and responsibility. She is careful about how she approaches the various duties of the home, which she rules and oversees. She adopts a wise, God-approved character. This leads her to bless all who are in various relationships with her. Husbands do well to approach their duties, character-development, and relationships in the same way. Society will be benefited from its members taking who they are and what they do more seriously. So will the church and the home.
What a blessing to be married to an excellent wife! There is no substitute for this. How it makes the inevitable burdens of life easier to carry. Let us all strive to be excellent in the role(s) God has given to us!
The tragedy of Fauja Singh’s passing should stir us, not just with grief, but with resolve. Not everyone will run marathons. But all of us are race runners.
Brent Pollard
“Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” (James 4.14)
At 114, Fauja Singh had outrun time itself—until time caught up with him on a quiet village road.
The world mourned the tragic death of Fauja Singh, the legendary marathon runner from Punjab, India. At 114 years old, he was hit and killed by a vehicle while walking in his village. Known as the “Turbaned Tornado,” he started running in his late 80s, broke age-related barriers, and inspired people worldwide. His sudden and heartbreaking passing reminds us painfully that life is uncertain. (Singh, 2025)
Even the most lively and resolute spirit cannot escape the limited nature of time.
Scripture speaks with sobering clarity about the fragility of life. “As for the days of our life, they contain seventy years, or if due to strength, eighty years, yet their pride is but labor and sorrow; for soon it is gone and we fly away” (Psalm 90.10). This psalm of Moses captures both time’s swift passage and life’s inevitable end. Even for someone like Fauja Singh, who surpassed expectations by living over 110 years, the outcome remains the same. “…it is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment” (Hebrews 9.27).
Life’s Fleeting Nature
King David wrote, “Man is like a mere breath; his days are like a passing shadow.” (Psalm 144.4). Job adds, “Man, who is born of woman, is short-lived and full of turmoil. Like a flower he comes forth and withers. He also flees like a shadow and does not remain” (Job 14.1–2). These are not ornamental flourishes for funerals; they are divine truths designed to ground the living.
Even in Isaiah’s reflective sorrow, we read, “Like a shepherd’s tent my dwelling is pulled up and removed from me; as a weaver I rolled up my life. He cuts me off from the loom; from day until night You make an end of me.” (Isaiah 38.12). Scripture layers these images deliberately—vapor that dissipates, flowers that wither, shadows that fade. Each metaphor reinforces the same sobering truth: nothing in this life endures.
The Illusion of Control
The book of James highlights our assumption. We often speak confidently about “tomorrow,” make arrangements for profit and travel, and forget that we have no control over even a single heartbeat. James doesn’t forbid us from planning, but advises us to include God in our plans. “Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that’” (James 4.15).
Our culture idolizes productivity and mastery of time, filling calendars, chasing deadlines, and marking anniversaries as if we can control time. But a single accident on a quiet village road can shatter that illusion.
We are not the masters of our fate. We are the stewards of fleeting days.
A Call to Wisdom
What, then, shall we do with this fleeting existence? Moses offers a simple but profound prayer: “So teach us to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90.12). This is not a morbid obsession with death; rather, it is a prudent recognition of it.
A devoted child of God lives each day with eternity in mind. As the Hebrew writer reminds us, judgment comes after death (Hebrews 9.27). There is no second race or alternative path. Whether we die at 14 or 114, the race concludes for everyone—and ultimately, the finish line that truly counts appears.
For those in Christ, that finish line is not fearful. The apostle Paul, nearing his end, wrote with confidence, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4.7). We are not guaranteed a long race, but it must be a faithful one.
Redeeming the Time
The tragedy of Fauja Singh’s passing should stir us, not just with grief, but with resolve. Not everyone will run marathons. But all of us are race runners. The Hebrew writer exhorts us to “lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and…run with endurance the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12.1).
This life—delicate and brief as it is—is a gift. It’s not meant for self-indulgence but for obedience. It’s not for procrastination but for preparation. If today is all we have, let it be a day that honors God.
Conclusion
Like the marathons he ran for decades, Singh’s life had a clear beginning, a long middle filled with purpose, and an end that came suddenly. The race is over, but the legacy of how he ran remains. He reminds us that neither extraordinary strength nor advanced age can prevent the end of life. For everyone, death is certain—sometimes sudden, sometimes anticipated, but always unavoidable.
The vapor will vanish. But until then, let us live wisely, walk humbly, and prepare fervently for what lies ahead.
“For what is your life?” (James 4.14 KJV)
This is a question worth asking before our last breath answers it.
A few weeks ago, I ordered motion-sensing nightlights from Amazon. They’re not super bright, but their gentle glow keeps me from stumbling over the toys my kids leave scattered across the house. I’m half-convinced they place those blocks strategically to cause maximum damage! Those nightlights, though, are lifesavers.
Light changes everything.
Carl Pollard
A few weeks ago, I ordered motion-sensing nightlights from Amazon. They’re not super bright, but their gentle glow keeps me from stumbling over the toys my kids leave scattered across the house. I’m half-convinced they place those blocks strategically to cause maximum damage! Those nightlights, though, are lifesavers.
Light changes everything. It reveals what’s hidden, guides us safely, and offers comfort. A lighthouse directs ships to shore. Headlights illuminate the road ahead. When a strange noise echoes at night, a flick of a switch brings reassurance. Light is security, hope, and power. Sadly, our world grows darker every day. We’re flooded with voices—news alerts, influencers, politicians, even loved ones—competing for our attention. The noise can be overwhelming, drowning out what’s true and steady. Yet, through this chaos, one voice shines clearly: Jesus, proclaiming, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). In a world of distractions and deception, our Savior says He is the way, the truth, the life—a lifeline for us all.
To grasp the weight of Jesus’ words, imagine the scene in John 8. It’s the Feast of Tabernacles in Jerusalem, a week-long celebration of God’s provision for Israel in the wilderness. Each night, massive lampstands illuminated the temple courts, their flames recalling the pillar of fire that guided God’s people (Exodus 13:21-22). These lights symbolized God’s presence and guidance. Amid this glowing backdrop, Jesus stands and declares, “I am the light of the world.” This isn’t subtle. He’s claiming to be the fulfillment of those lamps, the God who led Israel. His Jewish audience understood: Isaiah 60:19 promises, “The Lord will be your everlasting light,” and Psalm 27:1 says, “The Lord is my light and my salvation.” Jesus is saying, “I am that God.”
When Jesus says “I AM,” He echoes God’s name from the burning bush: “I AM WHO I AM” (Exodus 3:14). Each “I AM” statement in John’s Gospel is a bold claim to divinity. Some argue Jesus never claimed to be God, but His actions tell a different story. He calms storms, as God does in Job 38. He gives sight to the blind, fulfilling Isaiah’s prophecy. He calls Himself the Good Shepherd, like God in Jeremiah 31. When accused of breaking the Sabbath, He claims to be its Lord (Luke 6), working to sustain creation while we rest. The Jews knew what He meant, accusing Him of blasphemy (John 8:59).
This darkness Jesus speaks of isn’t just poetic—it’s the spiritual reality of a world and heart estranged from God. In John 8, we see it: Pharisees, blind with self-righteousness, ready to stone a woman caught in adultery; the woman, trapped in shame; the crowds, restless for meaning. That’s our world too—chasing success, pleasure, or power, yet left empty.
Jesus’ light exposes our sin and need, but it also overcomes them. He promises, “Follow me, and you’ll have the light of life.” The blind man in John 9 didn’t just gain sight; he saw Jesus and worshipped (John 9:38). The Pharisees, clinging to pride, stayed blind (John 9:40-41).
So, what do we do? First, recognize your darkness—pride, shame, or chasing what can’t satisfy. Second, follow Jesus daily, trusting His truth over the world’s noise. Finally, reflect His light, forgiving others or sharing the gospel (Matthew 5:14-16). Jesus, the Light of the World, is the God who conquers death and guides us home.
The darkness is real, but His light is stronger. Will you step into it?
Over 40 times, Scripture directly commands us to defend, protect, and care for orphans and widows. This isn’t a suggestion—it’s a high priority in God’s heart.
Dale Pollard
Over 40 times, Scripture directly commands us to defend, protect, and care for orphans and widows. This isn’t a suggestion—it’s a high priority in God’s heart.
Take a quick look at few of these passages:
Deuteronomy 10:18 – God executes justice for the fatherless and widow.
Isaiah 1:17 – “Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow.”
Jeremiah 7:6 – “If you do not oppress the alien, the fatherless or the widow…then I will let you dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers forever.”
Zechariah 7:10 – “Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless…”
And here’s one that we’ll take a closer look at:
In Job 29, Job makes the argument that he’s a righteous man because he,
“rescued the poor who cried for help, and the fatherless who had none to assist them.”
Breaking this down in order, notice what the most righteous man of his day knew about righteous living,
In verse 4 he claims, “I was a friend of God…” to explain, this he provides examples of what built this close friendship:
“I delivered the poor who cried for help…” (v.12)
“I put on righteousness, and it clothed me; my justice was like a clean & royal garment” (v.14).
This was a lifestyle and not a few occasions that he could recall.
And finally,
“I was a father to the needy, and I searched out the cause of him whom I did not know” (v.16).
See how many aspects of his faithful qualities revolved around caring for and looking for those who were needy? The emphasis is on those who were fatherless, widows, and the most vulnerable. What a great guy, and what a greater God. We can be His friend by doing the same today.
When disaster strikes, people instinctively seek meaning. After Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and earthquakes tore through Haiti, a famous televangelist swiftly claimed these events were acts of divine retribution. While such statements may seek to provide a sense of cosmic order, they often do more harm than good and reveal a troubling misunderstanding of God’s character in our modern world.
Brent Pollard
When disaster strikes, people instinctively seek meaning. After Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and earthquakes tore through Haiti, a famous televangelist swiftly claimed these events were acts of divine retribution. While such statements may seek to provide a sense of cosmic order, they often do more harm than good and reveal a troubling misunderstanding of God’s character in our modern world.
This impulse originates from retributive theology, which holds that God punishes sin through physical means, such as natural disasters. This view has deep roots in the Old Testament, where Israel’s covenant promised prosperity to those who obeyed and calamity to those who rebelled. In this unique covenant between God and a nation, God linked physical blessings and curses directly to the nation’s spiritual faithfulness.
But does that system still govern our world today?
A Covenant of Earthly Consequences
To understand this question, we need to revisit ancient Israel—a time when God’s people constituted a literal nation with defined borders, laws, and a temple. In this theocratic context, God sent droughts, diseases, and foreign armies to discipline His people and urge them to return to faithfulness. Prophets like Elijah (1 Kings 17.1) and Amos (Amos 4.6-11) proclaimed these judgments with divine authority, and Israel’s history unfolded as a visible drama of obedience and its consequences.
Even within the Old Testament, a deeper mystery unfolds. The story of Job—a righteous man who suffers beyond human comprehension—challenges the idea of simple retribution. When Job’s friends insisted that his suffering must be a sign of hidden sin, God rebuked them (Job 42.7-8). Their critical mistake was presuming to speak for God about matters they could not fully understand.
A Kingdom Transformed
Christ’s arrival transformed everything as profoundly as dawn breaks the night. God’s people are no longer confined to a single nation or governed by stone tablets. We are now citizens of a spiritual kingdom, shaped not by geography but by grace, led not by thunder from Sinai but by the gentle voice of the Spirit.
Nowhere in the New Testament do we see God threaten the Church with natural disasters as punishment for sin. While divine discipline is still a reality—“the Lord disciplines those He loves”—its nature has undergone a profound transformation (Hebrews 12.6). The Spirit convicts hearts, churches correct, and the consequences manifest in individuals’ souls rather than in their harvests.
When Calamity Comes
This fact does not imply that God is distant when disaster occurs. He remains sovereign, with His providence still overseeing the wind and waves. However, we need to carefully distinguish between stating that God can use tragedy for a purpose and claiming that He caused it to punish specific sins.
When people asked Jesus about a collapsed tower that killed eighteen people, He did not speculate about the victims’ sins. Instead, He gave an urgent yet gentle reminder: “I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13.5 NASB95). This statement suggests that tragedy is not proof of others’ hidden wrongdoings, but rather a call for us to examine our hearts.
All creation suffers under the weight of sin, and hurricanes, earthquakes, and fires are symptoms of a world fractured by the fall, not signs of an angry God pacing heaven’s battlements. Even amidst such brokenness, He draws near with compassion.
Discipline Refined
God’s discipline today is not diminished but refined. It comes through the quiet grief that follows sin, the loving correction of faithful friends, and the Spirit’s gentle whisper through the Word. No longer does God thunder judgments from mountaintops—He writes His corrections on our biblically trained consciences through grace.
Claiming that every disaster represents divine judgment misinterprets both the grace of the New Covenant and the nature of our Savior. Christ did not come to condemn the world but to save it (Luke 19.10). The cross speaks more profoundly than any hurricane—there, God’s justice and mercy met, and love triumphed.
Our Response
When disasters inevitably strike, let us respond with compassion rather than blame. Let us be Christ’s hands, lifting those who have fallen and rebuilding what tragedy has broken. Before we point out the faults of others, let us examine our hearts. Above all, let us offer hope instead of theories.
We live not under wrathful skies but beneath a gracious banner. If God speaks through storms today, it’s not to destroy but to awaken, not to punish but to invite.
In this broken world, the Church’s message must never be “They got what they deserved” but “Come, weary soul, and find rest in Christ.” He doesn’t send floods to wash us away but offers living water to make us whole.
The first time we read the name “Satan” in the Bible, it’s under very strange circumstances. Ready?
Here’s the passage:
“Satan rose up against Israel and incited David to take a census of Israel.”
Dale Pollard
The first time we read the name “Satan” in the Bible, it’s under very strange circumstances. Ready?
Here’s the passage:
“Satan rose up against Israel and incited David to take a census of Israel.”
(I Chronicles 21:1, NIV)
Alright, so Satan decides to pick a fight with God’s man. So how does he do it this time? Well, he incites (or entices) David to take a census of Israel— of course. You might be thoroughly confused at this point but just wait, you’ll want to throw something breakable in a second.
So Satan takes his shot at David and apparently the most devious plan he could come up with was, “Operation Headcount.” There must be more to it than that. Surely.
Make it Make Census
A census in the ancient world—especially in Israel—was not just a headcount. It carried spiritual, political, and economic weight.
It typically involved counting all the men and for at least a few practical reasons. A ruler could use the census to determine the size of his army, or make sure proper tax revenue was collected, or get an idea of how capable his labor force was. Oh, and for Israel, it better be done right.
Exodus 30:12 warns that a census must be accompanied by a ransom/offering, or else a plague would come upon the people:
“Then each one must give a ransom for his life to the LORD… so that no plague may come on them when you number them.”
So maybe now’s a good time to address an alleged contradiction.
Our original passage in question (I Chron. 21:1) is already interpreted in a few ways, especially when compared to its parallel account in 2 Samuel 24:1, which says:
“Again the anger of the LORD burned against Israel, and he incited David against them, saying, ‘Go and take a census of Israel and Judah.’”
Did you catch that too? Seems like Samuel contradicts the Chronicler by saying that God was really the one who enticed David into counting folks, not Satan. So which is it— and did you throw something yet?
It Was Satan….. Probably
No matter how you slice it, Satan is the one doing the enticing and here’s how we can be sure.
First, let’s start by contrasting the similarities between this case and Job’s situation. God allowed Satan to test Job— but He remained sovereign. God was clearly in control while Satan had to ask His permission before making Jobs life so miserable. God let the devil torment his most faithful servant, but with strict conditions (Job 1.8,12).
Secondly, it’s possible that “Satan” in 1 Chronicles 21:1 should really be translated “adversary.” Now, this next part isn’t typed with any real certainty, it’s only a personal observation (by the author).
Remember the account of Balaam and his donkey? It’s worth reading again, even if you’re familiar with it. Just before the conversation between a man and his animal takes place we read:
“God’s anger was kindled because he [Balaam] went, and the angel of the LORD took his stand in the way as his adversary” (Numbers 22:22).
The word adversary is the exact same word that’s translated as Satan in 1 Chronicles 21:1. However, it was the angel of the Lord that stood as an adversary. The language is strikingly similar in both passages. Take a peek, but this time side by side…by side:
1 Chronicles 21:1
“Then Satan stood against Israel and incited David to number Israel.”
Numbers 22:22
“God’s anger was kindled because Balaam went, and the angel of the LORD took his stand in the way as his adversary”
2 Samuel 24:1
“…the anger of the LORD was kindled against Israel, and he incited David against them, saying, “Go, number Israel and Judah.”
How satisfying is that? Instead of a contradiction you see consistency; inspired perfection on full display.
So What Happened To David?
Well, he messed up. A lesser known misstep on David’s part, too. God sent a plague as a consequence—exactly as Exodus 30 had warned. As tragic as that was, again the consistency is amazing. There was a thousand years or so between Exodus and Chronicles but God still remembered exactly what He had told Moses.
After the census, David felt guilt immediately (2 Sam. 24:10) and repented. As anybody after God’s heart would do.
It is written that without the divine, humanity experiences a spiritual emptiness, but through Christ’s grace, a deep fullness is graciously given. Our hearts are like empty vessels—designed to be filled with God’s presence, love, and Spirit. The true and lasting fulfillment we seek can only be found in Him.
Brent Pollard
A Fascinating Motto on a Cardboard Box
My Amazon parcel displayed a curious motto on its outside: “Without you, I am empty inside.” This phrase playfully alludes to the upcoming annual Prime Days in July, but also holds a deeper meaning for me beyond shopping. My father mentioned he might develop the idea into a sermon, and I believed this slogan could inspire an article. So, here we are.
Unpacking the Emotional Significance
Let’s examine this slogan closely, out of its context. The phrase “Without you, I am empty inside” highlights a profound emotional reliance on someone to feel complete or satisfied. At first glance, it clearly expresses deep love, longing, or attachment, implying that the speaker feels incomplete or directionless without the person being addressed. Additionally, it highlights vulnerability and illustrates the profound impact that another person’s presence has on one’s emotional well-being.
When Longing Turns into Dependency
However, it also invites reflection on self-reliance and emotional health. Feeling “empty” without someone might point to dependence on external validation, which can be unhealthy if overdone. It could also mirror genuine affection in a romantic context, but might alternatively highlight vulnerability or a lack of self-identity, depending on the situation.
A Secular Slogan with Sacred Implications
This profound and complex statement conveys a strong sense of emotion and urgency, possibly revealing a search for meaning or harmony. The phrase “Without you, I am empty inside” on a retailer’s box expresses a heartfelt feeling about connection that resonates deeply. While it adds authenticity and uniqueness to the brand, it may lack clarity about the retailer’s offerings or overall tone.
Ultimately, I know Amazon cannot truly fulfill the deeper longings of my soul.
From Emptiness to Fulfillment in Christ
The heartfelt phrase “Without you, I am empty inside” reflects a core spiritual truth: without God, humanity feels a deep emptiness. True fulfillment is only found through connection with the Creator via the Redeemer. This theme runs throughout Scripture—from the chaotic emptiness at the beginning of Genesis to the abundant fulfillment foretold at the end in Revelation.
The Emptiness of Life Without God
Scripture frequently illustrates the desolation that comes with a life separated from God. Ecclesiastes 1.2 states, “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity,” highlighting the emptiness of life without a higher purpose.
Jeremiah 2.13 uses a vivid metaphor: people forsake the “fountain of living waters” in favor of excavating “broken cisterns that can hold no water.” These defective containers symbolize our faulty attempts to find fulfillment apart from the divine.
Proverbs 27:20 observes that “people’s eyes are never satisfied” (HCSB), highlighting the endless human desire for worldly pursuits. Similarly, Genesis 1.2 describes the earth as “formless and void” before God’s presence brought it order and life—symbolizing the soul’s emptiness when separated from Him.
Filled With the Spirit
The New Testament offers a divine solution for human despair through the Holy Spirit residing within us. Ephesians 5.18 urges believers to “be filled with the Spirit,” indicating an ongoing, active pursuit of spiritual growth. In Acts 2.4 and 4.31, we see a striking change in the disciples; empowered by the Spirit, they transitioned from fear to confidence. The Spirit’s presence provides purpose and direction, filling the emptiness with meaning and significance.
This deep sense of fulfillment sharply contrasts with the world’s transient attempts to satisfy the spirit. Acts 4.31 emphasizes that genuine fullness in the Spirit results in bold testimony and divine strength, not futile efforts.
Completeness in Christ
Central to biblical teachings on fullness is Jesus Christ. As Colossians 2.9–10 affirms, “For in Him all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form, and in Him you have been made complete.” Believers, in the divine embrace, discover they lack nothing in their spiritual path.
2 Corinthians 5.17 declares that those in Christ are “a new creature,” while Ephesians 3.19 encourages us to be “filled up to all the fullness of God.” Philippians 4.19 assures believers that God supplies every need “according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” Fulfillment is not just a future hope but a current reality in Christ.
Dependence on God for Satisfaction
Humanity isn’t meant to be self-sufficient, as emphasized in John 15.5: “Apart from Me you can do nothing.” Our connection with the Savior is as essential as a branch’s link to the vine. As 2 Corinthians 12.9 shows, divine strength is fully revealed through our weakness. Psalm 127.1 reminds us that without the Lord, our efforts are ultimately unsuccessful.
Proverbs 3.5–6 encourages us to trust in God fully and warns against relying solely on our own understanding. Genuine contentment comes from surrendering to God’s guidance, not from self-reliance.
God’s Invitation to Satisfaction
The Psalms express a heartfelt longing for the divine and a strong confidence in God’s ability to meet that need. Psalm 42.1 vividly compares the soul’s desire to a deer’s thirst for water. Isaiah 55.1–2 invites those who are thirsty to come and find nourishment in God, contrasting this with the emptiness of worldly pursuits. Psalm 107.9 affirms, “He has satisfied the thirsty soul,” and Psalm 63.1 vividly equates spiritual thirst with a dry, waterless land.
The Contrast of Emptiness and Fullness
In John 10.10, a clear contrast is evident: “The thief comes only to steal and kill, and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” Christ offers abundance, whereas Satan promotes destruction. Matthew 5.6 assures fulfillment for those who seek righteousness earnestly, while John 6.35 portrays Christ as the eternal sustenance, providing lasting satisfaction.
Revelation 7.16 offers a powerful assurance: “They will hunger no longer, nor thirst anymore.” Eternal satisfaction awaits the saved.
Made Whole in Him
The New Testament consistently affirms that believers are made complete in Christ (Colossians 2.10). John 17.23 offers a deep depiction of unity with God, while Ephesians 4.13 encourages us to strive for spiritual growth, reflecting Christ’s essence. The passages from Psalm 16.11 and 36.7–9 eloquently express the joy and richness experienced in God’s presence.
Conclusion
It is written that without the divine, humanity experiences a spiritual emptiness, but through Christ’s grace, a deep fullness is graciously given. Our hearts are like empty vessels—designed to be filled with God’s presence, love, and Spirit. The true and lasting fulfillment we seek can only be found in Him.
Forgiveness is challenging, especially when wounds are deep. Yet Jesus’ words are clear: to experience God’s forgiveness fully, we must extend it to others. Here are three practical ways to live this out…
Carl Pollard
In Matthew 6:14-15, Jesus teaches, “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” This powerful statement, part of the Sermon on the Mount, underscores the centrality of forgiveness in the Christian life. Take a moment with me to explore its meaning and practical implications for today.
These verses follow the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13), where Jesus instructs His disciples to pray, “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” The Sermon on the Mount outlines the radical ethics of God’s kingdom, emphasizing heart transformation over mere external actions. Forgiveness, Jesus reveals, is not optional but a defining mark of His followers.
The Greek word for “forgive” (*aphiēmi*) means to release or let go, implying a deliberate choice to relinquish resentment or the demand for retribution. Jesus ties our forgiveness of others to God’s forgiveness of us, not as a condition for salvation but as evidence of a transformed heart. The phrase “your heavenly Father will not forgive” warns that harboring unforgiveness disrupts our fellowship with God, as it contradicts His merciful nature (Ephesians 4:32). In the first-century Jewish context, where grudges and vengeance were common, this teaching was unheard of, calling Christian’s to mirror God’s grace.
Forgiveness is challenging, especially when wounds are deep. Yet Jesus’ words are clear: to experience God’s forgiveness fully, we must extend it to others. Here are three practical ways to live this out:
1.Choose to Forgive Daily
Forgiveness is often a process, not a one-time act. When memories of hurt resurface, pray that God will soften your heart and give you the strength to overcome. This will shift your focus on Him and align your heart with God’s, breaking the grip of bitterness. Consider writing a letter (not to send) expressing your pain, then destroy it as a way of letting go.
2. Reflect on God’s Mercy
Meditate on how much God has forgiven you. Ephesians 2:4-5 reminds us that God’s mercy is unending. When we grasp the depth of His grace, forgiving others becomes less about their worthiness and more about His love flowing through us. Spend time in prayer thanking God for His forgiveness to soften your heart toward others.
3. Seek Reconciliation Wisely
Forgiveness doesn’t always mean reconciliation, especially in cases of abuse or unrepentant harm. But where possible, take steps toward peace (Romans 12:18). This might mean a conversation to clear misunderstandings or setting healthy boundaries while still releasing resentment.
Forgiving others frees us from the prison of bitterness, restores our intimacy with God, and reflects His kingdom to a hurting world. By forgiving, we become conduits of God’s grace, transforming relationships and pointing others to Christ. Let’s embrace this call, trusting God to heal our hearts as we release others to Him.
Who isn’t amazed by the immense importance of the Holy Spirit when we hear that one who speaks against Christ may be forgiven, but one who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven―not in this world nor in the world to come?
Gary Pollard
[Editor’s Note: Gary is translating the Ante-Nicene Fathers works, beginning with Origin’s work. It is meant to update the British English of Roberts and Donaldson. What follows is part of that translation]
Let us now briefly examine the subject of the Holy Spirit. Everyone who acknowledges the existence of Providence (however they think of it) agrees that God―the one who created and ordered all things―is no one’s creation, and recognizes Him as the Father of the universe. The claim that He has a Son is not something unique to believers; even though it may seem astonishing or unbelievable to the kinds of people that the Greeks and other foreigners call “philosophers”, some of them seem to at least partially get it. They admit that all things were created through the word or reason (logos) of God. Because we think this is a teaching that came from God Himself, we believe there is no better way to understand or explain this higher, divine Reason―we call Him the Son of God―than through the Scriptures inspired by the Holy Spirit: that is, the Gospels, the Epistles, the Law, and the Prophets, as Christ Himself declared. It’s basically impossible to know about this Holy Spirit without reading the Law or believing in Christ. Even though no one can speak with perfect confidence about the nature of God the Father, some understanding of Him can be attained through creation itself and the natural insights of the human mind. This knowledge can be reinforced by reading the inspired texts. As for the Son of God, even though “no one knows the Son except the Father,” the Scriptures teach us how to think about Him. This is made known not only by explicit teachings but also through the lives of Christians, whose actions are understood as preparing the world for Christ’s return. Between these two things, we can start to understand both his transcendent nature and the human nature he voluntarily assumed.
As for what the Holy Spirit is, Scripture teaches us in many places. Somewhere in the first fifty Psalms, David says, “Do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.” Daniel speaks of “the Holy Spirit that is in You.” The New Testament has plenty on this, too: the Spirit is described as descending on Christ; after His resurrection, the Lord breathed on His apostles and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit”; an angel told Mary, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you”; and Paul says that no one can call Jesus “master” except through the Holy Spirit. In the Acts of the Apostles, the Holy Spirit was given when the apostles laid hands on people at baptism. From all of this, we learn that the person of the Holy Spirit is so important that baptism is not complete without naming all three: that is, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. This joins the name of the Holy Spirit to the uncreated God the Father and His only Son. Who isn’t amazed by the immense importance of the Holy Spirit when we hear that one who speaks against Christ may be forgiven, but one who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven―not in this world nor in the world to come?
How often we hear that the gospel, defined, is “good news.” It is God’s good news, meant to be shared. That’s exactly what the women and the two disciples are doing with the larger group of disciples when Jesus makes His final appearance before returning to heaven. But there are a few things He wants to impress upon them before He goes
Neal Pollard
How often we hear that the gospel, defined, is “good news.” It is God’s good news, meant to be shared. That’s exactly what the women and the two disciples are doing with the larger group of disciples when Jesus makes His final appearance before returning to heaven. But there are a few things He wants to impress upon them before He goes. Notice how the book of Luke ends (24:36-53).
There is a reminder of His identity (36-43). The predominant reminder in this last appearance is of His humanity, the identity He took on to save us from our sins. He shows them His hands and feet (40) and then eats a meal before them (41-43). He will appeal to His Deity in His final instructions, referencing His Father in heaven (49), but He did not want them to forget the brotherhood He shared with them all. How often do I benefit by remembering, as I go about as His disciple, that Jesus fully understands what I am going through? Read Hebrews 2:9-18, for example. He was for a little while made lower than the angels in order taste death for everyone (9). He was perfected in His work as our great High Priest by suffering as a human (10). He is not ashamed to call us “brethren” (11). He partook of sharing our nature, flesh and blood (14). He had to be made like His brethren in all things to become a merciful and faithful High Priest (17). He was tempted in His suffering, which helps Him come to our aid as we suffer (18). There are a multitude of additional passages reinforcing and supplementing our understanding and appreciation of Christ’s humanity, but the resurrected Jesus wants them to remember His humanity after He ascends to heaven.
There is a reminder of His history (44-48). It is a mind-boggling truth that Jesus’ history goes back to His preexistence, before He became human. The facet of history of highest interest to Him is sacred history. So, He opened their minds to understand the Scripture (45). He appealed to the three major divisions of the Hebrew Old Testament, the Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms (44). We might call them the books of history, prophecy, and poetry. They are saturated with the themes He elaborates upon in verses 46-47, His suffering, His resurrection, and His plan of salvation. By looking to God’s past revelation, they would be equipped for their present mission and fortified for their future reward. So it is for us today. The verification of Scripture, fulfilled prophecy,
There is a reminder of His destiny (49-53). It included ascending to heaven to carry out the promise of His Father upon them, to be His witnesses, “clothed with power from on high” (49). Luke gives us fuller details of what happens in this discussion in Acts 1:4-8, and it includes His marching orders and an elaboration of what we read Him telling them about being His witnesses starting in Jerusalem (46-47). His immediate destination is heaven (50), and theirs is Jerusalem (52-53). They went there with great joy and, once there, “were continually in the temple praising God” (53). They were mentally preparing for their earth-shattering, world-changing mission. Heartache was overwhelmed by hope. Disappointment was conquered by determination. They were about to turn the world upside down, an intention they made good on from Jerusalem to Judea, Samaria, and the rest of the world (Acts 1:8; 17:6). Lest we forget, their role in His destiny is the same as ours. We are standing on their shoulders, carrying on their mission today. Jesus needs us to help fulfill His destiny in our world just as He needed them. They rose up and met the challenge! What about us?
Growing up, my brother and I had blowgun battles. We’d roll up paper, shape sticky notes into cones, stick bobby pins in the tips, and—voila—homemade blowgun darts. These weren’t toys! One day, I’m hiding behind a wall, and Dale, from across the kitchen, spots my hand. He shoots with deadly aim. One second I’m fine;
Carl Pollard
In the book of Acts, we find two moments where people were “cut to the heart” by the preaching of God’s truth. In Acts 2, Peter, filled with the Spirit, preaches on Pentecost, and his words cut thousands, leading to repentance, salvation, and the start of the church. In Acts 7, Stephen’s bold preaching before the Sanhedrin cuts their hearts, but instead of turning to God, they turn to rage and murder. Two cuts, two responses—one to life, one to destruction. What made the difference? How do we respond when God’s Word cuts our hearts?
To get this, we need to dig into “cut to the heart” in the Greek. In Acts 2:37, after Peter preaches about Jesus’ death and resurrection, we read, “Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart.” The Greek word is katanyssomai, a rare term meaning “to be pierced” or “stung sharply.” Picture a dart hitting your conscience. Growing up, my brother and I had blowgun battles. We’d roll up paper, shape sticky notes into cones, stick bobby pins in the tips, and—voila—homemade blowgun darts. These weren’t toys! One day, I’m hiding behind a wall, and Dale, from across the kitchen, spots my hand. He shoots with deadly aim. One second I’m fine; the next, a dart’s stuck in my wrist, needle in the bone! Talk about pain! We yanked it out, and my wrist instantly swelled up. When Acts 2 says “cut,” it’s not a paper cut—it’s deep. Peter’s words pierced their core, exposing their sin, and they cried, “What shall we do?” (Acts 2:37).
Now, Acts 7:54. Stephen’s preaching cuts the Sanhedrin’s hearts (“enraged,” ESV), and “they gnashed at him with their teeth.” The Greek word here for “cut” is diapriō, meaning “to saw through” or “cut violently,” like a saw tearing through wood. Their hearts were cut, but with rage, not godly sorrow. Two men stabbed by the same sword: one drops to his knees, seeking a medic; the other, enraged, grips the blade, worsening his wound. Both are cut, but one seeks life, the other death. How often has Scripture stepped on your toes, called out your sin? Ever felt that stab of conviction? Jesus’ words cut the rich young ruler, and he walked away (Mark 10:21-22). In John 6:66, many left after Jesus’ hard teaching. God’s Word is meant to cut and convict, but not all accept it.
In Acts 2, Peter preaches to a diverse crowd on Pentecost, declaring Jesus, whom they crucified, as the risen Messiah. The gospel hits, and they’re “cut to the heart.” They ask, “What shall we do?” (Acts 2:37). Peter says, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins” (Acts 2:38). That day, 3,000 souls were added to the church. Why? They didn’t resist. They saw their sin—guilty of killing God’s Son—and felt the weight. They humbled themselves, repented, were baptized, and found life. David was “a man after God’s own heart” (Acts 13:22) because he listened and obeyed when God’s Word cut him, even when he messed up. God’s Word will call out your sin—lying, lust, pride—and show you the way out. The Acts 2 crowd chose life through humility.
In Acts 7, Stephen, full of faith, stands before the Sanhedrin, exposing their rebellion. He says, “You stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears! You always resist the Holy Spirit” (Acts 7:51). The truth cuts deep, but they gnash their teeth, rush him, and stone him, making Stephen the first Christian martyr. Why? Their pride wouldn’t budge. Like Pharaoh in Exodus, whose heart hardened with each plague (Exodus 7:13-14), they rejected the truth to protect their status. Imagine a doctor diagnosing a deadly disease, saying, “Surgery can save you.” One patient trusts and lives; another storms out, angry, and dies. The Sanhedrin chose the latter—truth exposed their sin, but pride blinded them.
Humility separates these responses. Acts 2’s crowd humbled themselves, sought mercy, and found grace. Acts 7’s Sanhedrin clung to pride, choosing judgment. Proverbs 15:33 says, “Before honor is humility.” James 4:6 adds, “God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble.”
Be like Acts 2, not Acts 7. How will you respond when God’s Word cuts? First, listen with an open heart. Hebrews 4:12 says God’s Word is “sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit.” Don’t push it away. Second, submit and obey quickly. The Acts 2 crowd didn’t delay—they repented and were baptized. Like the prodigal son (Luke 15), run to God when truth hits. If you’re in their shoes, repent and be baptized—don’t wait. You don’t know when you’ll stand before God. Third, seek God’s help. He empowered Peter and Stephen’s preaching and convicts us today. Pray for a soft heart. Has God’s Word cut you? Is there sin you’ve ignored, a relationship to mend? Will you choose life through humility or death through pride?
Today’s society has adopted what the prophet decried: a deliberate shift in moral values. Our entertainment industry, educational institutions, and even certain religious circles increasingly emphasize personal comfort instead of moral integrity and individual authenticity, rather than divine guidance.
Brent Pollard
The Prophetic Warning Against Moral Relativism
In Isaiah 5.20, the warning critiques ancient Israel, denouncing any culture that forsakes divine moral truths. The Hebrew term hoy, meaning “woe,” indicates not just mild concern but a declaration of divine condemnation for those who knowingly distort the moral standards established by God.
Recognizing this context underscores Isaiah’s significance in contemporary entertainment and politics. Similar to how the Judeans rationalized their departure from God’s laws, our society creates complex narratives that validate ethical compromises. The reasoning that caused them to modify their moral standards now encourages us to admire fictional characters who engage in theft, deception, criminal partnerships, or political movements that justify violence as a form of justice.
Today’s society has adopted what the prophet decried: a deliberate shift in moral values. Our entertainment industry, educational institutions, and even certain religious circles increasingly emphasize personal comfort instead of moral integrity and individual authenticity, rather than divine guidance.
The Scripture’s Unwavering Standard
The New Testament reinforces Isaiah’s message. Romans 1.32 warns that those who practice sin “also give hearty approval to those who practice them.” 1 John 3.4 adds, “Everyone who practices sin also practices lawlessness; and sin is lawlessness.” The Greek anomia indicates a deep rejection of divine authority.
When society praises those who defy moral law, it fosters chaos and rebellion. No matter how admirable their intentions may seem, God condemns their deeds.
The Antihero Deception: A Pattern Throughout History
Individuals who defy societal norms for “noble” causes have been lauded throughout history—from Robin Hood and Batman to contemporary antiheroes like Disney’s Ironheart. She constructs her suit using stolen technology and collaborates with criminal organizations to achieve her objectives. Additionally, her character is portrayed as bisexual, a choice that mirrors the cultural agenda.
This highlights a more profound concern: the notion that good intentions can excuse immoral behavior. However, Scripture disagrees. Theft is still considered stealing (Exodus 20.15). Violence is inherently wrong (Matthew 26.52). Corrupt partnerships taint ethical values (1 Corinthians 15.33).
We must not confuse love with chaos. God’s law is rooted in love, and genuine compassion does not justify sin.
The Dangers of Celebrating Moral Compromise
Societies that glorify morally ambiguous figures participate in cultural catechism. This teaching influences hearts and minds with significant repercussions:
Moral Absolutes Decay: Entertainment or activism that makes exceptions to God’s commands undermines the concept of absolute truth.
Pragmatism Replaces Principle: Compliance is no longer mandatory when outcomes justify actions.
Resistance to Authority: Antiheroes frequently succeed by challenging authority, prompting viewers to scrutinize all types of it, including divine authority (Romans 1:18ff).
Scripture provides counterexamples. David refused to kill Saul, even when he could have justified it, since Saul sought to kill him (1 Samuel 24.6). Jesus rebuked Peter for drawing a sword in His defense (Matthew 26.52).
The Authority of Scripture vs. Cultural Trends
We must maintain the authority of the Bible (2 Timothy 3.16-17). This obligation stems from principle rather than tradition. We evaluate cultural trends through Scripture, rather than assessing Scripture against cultural norms.
Peter warned that mockers would pursue their desires (2 Peter 3.3). Likewise, Paul cautioned Timothy about individuals who would turn away from sound doctrine in favor of what satisfies them (2 Timothy 4.2–3).
Teaching Moral Discernment
Christian parents should instruct their children to evaluate media from a biblical perspective. Consider:
Is this character committed to following God’s commands regardless of the circumstances?
Are sinful acts being celebrated?
What if everyone followed this character’s moral logic?
Modeling Consistent Ethics
Children gain the most insights from their parents’ examples. If we justify our minor faults while criticizing similar behaviors in others, we convey that moral standards can be adjusted.
James 1.22 urges us to be doers of the word. That includes how we consume entertainment and participate in politics.
Providing Positive Alternatives
Don’t just say what’s wrong; point to what’s right. Scripture presents heroes who remained faithful under pressure:
Daniel in the lion’s den (Daniel 6)
Joseph, tempted yet faithful (Genesis 39)
Hebrew midwives, who feared God more than Pharaoh (Exodus 1.17)
These individuals suggest that following righteousness may require sacrifices, which is always rewarding.
The Church’s Role
The church must be a prophetic voice. Like Isaiah, we declare “woe” to moral confusion from a place of spiritual integrity, not political power.
Early Christians transformed Rome not through political activism but by living the Gospel (Acts 17.6). So must we.
Conclusion: Holding Fast to Truth
Paul’s charge remains: “Guard… the treasure which has been entrusted to you” (2 Timothy 1.14).
We should not adjust the Bible to fit contemporary views. Instead, we present the truth with love, even if it’s not well-received.
By upholding moral integrity in our heroes, we instill in the next generation the importance of righteousness. Though this narrow path is challenging, it ultimately leads to eternal life (Matthew 7.14).
To accurately understand Isaiah 5.20 against the backdrop of modern moral ambiguity, it is crucial to comprehend its original historical and literary context…
Brent Pollard
Text: “Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil; Who substitute darkness for light and light for darkness; Who substitute bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!” — Isaiah 5.20
Expository Background: The Context of Isaiah 5.20
To accurately understand Isaiah 5.20 against the backdrop of modern moral ambiguity, it is crucial to comprehend its original historical and literary context. The prophet Isaiah shared his prophecies during the reigns of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, a timeframe of around 740–686 BC. Concurrently, the kingdom of Judah experienced both material prosperity and a concerning spiritual decline.
The Literary Structure of Isaiah 5
Isaiah 5 opens with the famous “Song of the Vineyard” (vv. 1–7), in which God compares Israel to a carefully tended vineyard that produced sour grapes instead of the anticipated good fruit. The vineyard represents the chosen community, whereas the wild grapes symbolize their moral decline, despite being bestowed with plentiful spiritual blessings.
Following this parable, Isaiah announces six “woes” (vv. 8–23) that clearly illustrate how Israel has produced these “wild grapes.” Each lament tackles a particular transgression that had become prevalent in Judean society:
An insatiable craving for acquiring land and possessions (vv. 8–10)
A state of intoxication coupled with a lack of spiritual enthusiasm (vv. 11–17)
Intentional misconduct and ridicule of the sacred (vv. 18–19)
Labeling what is evil as good and vice versa (v. 20)
Excessive pride and unwarranted confidence (v. 21)
Corrupt authority and injustice (vv. 22–23)
The Specific Context of Verse 20
The fourth woe (verse 20) is essential in this list, underscoring its significance. The Hebrew phrasing employs four parallel clauses that form a chiastic, or mirrored, structure:
A: “those who call evil good”
B: “and good evil”
B’: “who substitute darkness for light”
A’: “and light for darkness”
This literary device underscores the significant shift in moral standards that occurred in Judean society. The messenger does not reflect accidental ethical ambiguity but rather an intentional and systematic inversion of the divine order established by the Creator.
Historical Circumstances
Archaeological evidence and scriptural records suggest that the land of Judah faced significant social unrest in the eighth century. While wealth increased and an elite class emerged, many people suffered from poverty and oppression. The political alliances of that era required concessions to the customs and beliefs of non-believing nations.
Crucially, in Judea, society developed complex justifications for actions that clearly violated divine laws. The wealthy justified their mistreatment of the poor as vital for economic growth. Religious leaders conformed to local customs to maintain political ties. Social elites altered moral standards to fit their personal goals.
Isaiah 5:20 specifically highlights the changing perspectives on morality within both intellectual and cultural contexts. The Hebrew verb amar, meaning “call,” suggests more than just a personal viewpoint; it denotes an authoritative pronouncement—key individuals were reshaping society’s moral discourse.
Theological Principles for Application
Several hermeneutical principles enable the legitimate application of Isaiah 5:20 to modern contexts:
Divine moral standards are universal: The distinctions upheld by Isaiah testify to God’s immutable nature. What God deems wicked in one age remains wicked throughout all ages.
Patterns of Betrayal in the Covenant: Though we do not belong to ethnic Israel, the New Testament recognizes the church as Israel’s spiritual counterpart (Galatians 6:16; 1 Peter 2:9).
The Influence of Culture on Moral Understanding: Isaiah’s message targets the broader evolution of societal ethical standards, making his warnings perpetually relevant.
The Weight of Leadership Endures: Isaiah’s woes address influential figures who shaped public values. Today, spiritual leaders bear a similar responsibility.
The Bible’s divine nature never ceases to amaze me. The more I study it, the more I’m convinced it’s God’s Word—perfect, infallible, and life-giving. It’s unlike any other book, offering purpose, wisdom, and a unified story of salvation through Christ.
Carl Pollard
The Bible’s divine nature never ceases to amaze me. The more I study it, the more I’m convinced it’s God’s Word—perfect, infallible, and life-giving. It’s unlike any other book, offering purpose, wisdom, and a unified story of salvation through Christ.
What proves a book is divinely inspired? It must be free of errors, contain knowledge beyond human reach, and fulfill prophecies with precision. The Bible does all this. It reveals scientific truths unknown until recently, remains consistent from Genesis to Revelation, and fulfills thousands of prophecies. The odds of just 48 prophecies coming true by chance are 1 in 10^157—an impossibility for human authors. Isaiah 53 and Psalm 22, written centuries before Christ, detail His suffering with uncanny accuracy. Archaeological discoveries and identical manuscripts further confirm its reliability.
For a moment, let’s explore one proof of the Bible’s divine origin: the parallel between Abraham and Isaac in Genesis 22 and God’s sacrifice of Jesus. Written 2,000 years before Christ, this account mirrors His sacrifice with stunning precision.
1. A Father’s Love: God asked Abraham to sacrifice his beloved son, Isaac (Gen. 22:2). Similarly, God gave His only Son, Jesus, for us (John 3:16). God’s love for humanity surpassed even His love for His Son.
2. The Son’s Obedience: Isaac, a young man, carried the wood for his sacrifice and didn’t resist (Gen. 22:6, 9). Jesus carried His cross to Golgotha, submitting to God’s will (Luke 22:42). Both show obedient trust we’re called to emulate.
3. The Journey: Abraham and Isaac traveled three days to Moriah (Gen. 22:4). Jesus’ ministry led to the cross. Both journeys reflect trust in God’s plan.
4. A Substitute: God stopped Abraham, providing a ram instead of Isaac (Gen. 22:11-13). Jesus, the Lamb of God, became our substitute, bearing our sins (John 1:29).
5. Resurrection Hope: Abraham believed God could raise Isaac (Heb. 11:19). Jesus rose on the third day (1 Cor. 15:4). Both stories proclaim God’s power over death.
6. Blessing for All: Through Abraham’s obedience, God promised blessings for all nations (Gen. 22:18), fulfilled in Christ’s salvation (Gal. 3:16).
Genesis 22 foreshadows God’s sacrifice of Jesus for humanity. Both Isaac and Jesus, only sons, carried the means of their sacrifice. Isaac was spared; Jesus took our place. The Bible points to the One who gives eternal life. Do you know Him?
“How can we genuinely live out the principles of Christ’s kingdom now?”
This truth does not suggest believers withdraw from the world or avoid pursuing righteousness. Throughout history, those motivated by sacred teachings have passionately sought justice, advocated for the vulnerable, and worked to elevate their communities. However, our engagement arises from a strong faith in the divine order, not from anxiety about social changes or the failures of institutions.
Brent Pollard
“If the foundations are destroyed, What can the righteous do?”— Psalm 11.3
This verse resonates with us during crises. When faced with cultural upheaval, political turmoil, or moral decline, many Christians turn to Psalm 11.3. Sometimes, they do so out of despair over society’s deterioration, while at other times, they do so as a rallying cry for their preferred solutions. The verse becomes a flexible instrument for urgency, affirming concerns or motivating action on various issues.
However, we frequently overlook a crucial aspect: David isn’t the one asking this question.
The Context Makes All the Difference
Psalm 11 opens with David’s bold declaration of faith: “In the Lord I take refuge; How can you say to my soul, ‘Flee as a bird to your mountain…’” (v. 1). David stands resolute, confronting those who would counsel retreat amid peril.
The composition of the psalm unfolds a conversation between two viewpoints:
The Voice of Fear (vv. 1b-3): David’s advisors see the wicked preparing their bows (v. 2) and come to a grim realization: when moral foundations crumble, the righteous become vulnerable. Their response? To flee and seek safety.
The Voice of Faith (vv. 4-7): David does not react with fear but with deep theological insight into God’s unwavering sovereignty.
A biblical commentator, Derek Kidner, points out that the entire middle section, including verse 3, represents “the voice of defeatism,” which David firmly rejects. “What can the righteous do?” isn’t a lament from David; instead, it captures the worried thoughts of those who have forgotten the basis of their genuine security.
David’s Counter-Argument: God Still Reigns
David’s reply cuts through the fog of anxiety with deep theological insight:
“The Lord is in His holy temple; the Lord’s throne is in heaven; His eyes behold, His eyelids test the sons of men.” (v. 4).
Although many see only the world’s chaos, David perceives the divine harmony that supports all creation. In his Treasury of David, Charles Spurgeon articulates this thought with remarkable clarity: “When we cannot see our way, we can see our God. When we cannot trace his path, we can trust his heart.” David places his trust not in the transient nature of human institutions but in the enduring foundation of divine sovereignty. God’s throne stands firm, unaffected by the upheavals of earthly power, and His justice persists, steady even when human systems fail.
Spurgeon remarks that David “answers the craven counselors” not by arguing but through a deep comprehension of God—focusing not on the immediate dangers posed by wicked men with their bows ready. Instead, David looks beyond what is visible into the invisible throne room of heaven, where God watches, evaluates, and will eventually pass judgment on all issues.
The psalm ends with a promise: “For the Lord is righteous, He loves righteousness; The upright will behold His face.” (v. 7). This is not simply hopeful thinking; it is the foundation of theology.
The Danger of Misapplication
In today’s world, Psalm 11.3 often serves as a rallying cry for various causes—whether political efforts, social movements, or institutional reforms. Some people exploit this verse to create a sense of urgency around specific agendas, implying that failing to support a particular cause amounts to a total abandonment of righteousness.
The warped perspective appears in several forms: Some cite “crumbling foundations” to justify political involvement, while others promote questionable social theories. Some reinforce institutional biases or traditional practices not backed by Scripture. Scripture fosters discord rather than a call to unwavering biblical loyalty in all these cases.
The early church repeatedly faced this temptation. They were under the weight of Roman oppression, witnessing the surrounding moral decline and suffering persecution. However, the apostles’ writings consistently guided believers beyond simple human solutions to the profound spiritual truths that lie ahead. While imprisoned by a corrupt regime, Paul wrote some of his most optimistic passages, strongly affirming that external circumstances cannot determine the ultimate safety of God’s people.
Berean biblical scholarship teaches us that, although earthly institutions fulfill God’s objectives (Romans 13.1-7), the church’s primary mission surpasses any specific human system or movement. Our true citizenship lies in heaven (Philippians 3.20), and our ultimate hope is anchored not in any earthly cause, no matter how noble, but in Christ alone.
What Can the Righteous Do?
When the very foundations tremble, the Word of God offers unwavering guidance:
Pray Without Anxiety:“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” (Philippians 4.6). During times of uncertainty, we should avoid panic and instead pursue the unfathomable peace of God through sincere prayer.
Seek God’s Kingdom First:“But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” (Matthew 6.33). We prioritize advancing the divine purpose over merely endorsing political ideologies.
Stand Firm in Faith:“Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.” (Ephesians 6.13). We do not retreat; instead, we remain steadfast, strengthened by our inner determination.
Live as Salt and Light (Matthew 5.13-17): We engage with society, aiming to effect change through the gospel instead of withdrawing from its challenges. By embodying integrity, serving others, and speaking truth with courage, we influence the world around us.
The Church’s Distinctive Response
The church offers a distinct promise that goes beyond any earthly pursuit: a message of eternal hope rooted in Christ’s victory. When society’s foundations appear to be trembling, our primary question should not be, “How can we advance our ambitions?” but instead, “How can we genuinely live out the principles of Christ’s kingdom now?”
This truth does not suggest believers withdraw from the world or avoid pursuing righteousness. Throughout history, those motivated by sacred teachings have passionately sought justice, advocated for the vulnerable, and worked to elevate their communities. However, our engagement arises from a strong faith in the divine order, not from anxiety about social changes or the failures of institutions.
J.W. McGarvey powerfully asserted that the true strength of the church is not found in human systems or movements but rather in the profound work of spiritual transformation. As we proclaim the gospel, we delve into the depths of the human heart, confronting the fundamental issues that no worldly remedy can address.
Conclusion: Standing on the True Foundation
In Psalm 11.3, the inquiry does not stem from David but reflects the anxious assumption he rejects. The righteous do despairingly ask, “What can we do?” Instead, we declare with David, “The Lord is in His holy temple.”
Charles Spurgeon reminds us that “the believer’s safety lies not in the absence of danger, but in the presence of the Lord.” We stand firm when the ground shakes beneath us, for our foundation is immune to chaos. We do not retreat in fear to the mountains; instead, we draw near to the Lord with steadfast faith. We do not turn away from the world; instead, we face it with the confidence that comes from knowing Who truly reigns.
The fundamental elements that uphold human society are fragile and can be easily disturbed. In contrast, the foundation of God’s kingdom remains eternally firm and steadfast. This reality shapes how we respond when the world trembles around us.
“For no man can lay a foundation other than the one which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 3.11).
Words carry a lot of power, revealing the core of who we are. Each year, the average person speaks about 11 million words—roughly 30,000 daily, enough to fill a short book every two days. If your words were laid bare for all to see, would they reflect a story you’d stand by?
Carl Pollard
Words carry a lot of power, revealing the core of who we are. Each year, the average person speaks about 11 million words—roughly 30,000 daily, enough to fill a short book every two days. If your words were laid bare for all to see, would they reflect a story you’d stand by? In Matthew 12:36-37, Jesus delivers a warning: “Everyone will have to give account on the day of judgment for every idle word they have spoken. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.” The Greek term for “idle,” argos, refers to useless, fruitless words that fail to honor God. Luke 6:45 reinforces this: “The mouth speaks what the heart is full of.” Our words expose our hearts and will one day testify for or against us. Every word we speak is directed toward God and those made in His image. To move from empty speech to words that give life, we can follow three steps: tighten your lips, tame your tongue, and transform your heart.
The first step is to filter what comes out of your mouth. Psalm 141:3 says, “Set a guard over my mouth, Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips.” David recognized that words can escape before we think, often causing harm through gossip, complaints, or lies. Consider Job, who, despite losing everything, refused to curse God (Job 2:9-10). His restrained speech reflected deep faith, unlike the Israelites in Exodus 16:3, who grumbled at minor hardships, saying, “We should’ve stayed in Egypt!” Their careless words revealed weak trust and cost them greatly. With about 20% of our day—4 to 5 hours—spent talking, we have millions of opportunities for idle words. A simple test before speaking: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary? By guarding our lips and seeking God’s help, we can ensure our words build up rather than tear down.
Guarding your lips is a start, but the tongue itself is a force. James 3:7-8 calls it a “restless evil,” capable of sparking destruction like a wildfire. Peter’s life shows this vividly. In Matthew 26:74, under pressure, he denied Jesus, even cursing to make his point—words that exposed his fear. Yet, after Pentecost, his tongue preached boldly, leading 3,000 to salvation (Acts 2). The difference was divine transformation. A 2018 incident proves the point: a single 50-word social media post from a well known figure tanked a company’s stock by 20% in hours, costing billions. One reckless word can destroy; one intentional word can build. To control your tongue, ask: Will this honor God? Will it uplift or harm? With the Spirit’s guidance, replace fruitless words with those that speak life.
Words don’t start at the tongue—they flow from the heart. Matthew 15:8 says, “The things that come out of a person’s mouth come from the heart, and these defile them.” When life’s pressures hit, your words reveal what’s inside. David’s heart transformation in 2 Samuel 12:13, after his sin with Bathsheba, led to honest repentance: “I have sinned against the Lord.” Unlike Saul, who deflected blame, David’s words reflected a renewed heart, restoring his relationship with God. A 2021 study found 64% of online comments carry negative or hostile tones, often from unrenewed hearts. To speak purposefully, ask God to transform your heart, as David did in Psalm 51:10: “Create in me a clean heart, O God.” Through prayer, scripture, and worship, fill your heart with God’s truth, and your words will reflect His love.
You speak 30,000 words daily, 11 million yearly—each a seed that bears fruit, good or bad. Matthew 12 and Luke 6 remind us our words will judge us, revealing our hearts. This week, commit to intentional speech: guard your lips like David, control your tongue like Peter, and renew your heart through Christ. Careless words can destroy relationships and hinder the gospel, but purposeful words can heal and point to eternity.
“The Son and the Spirit share in that same nature of divine goodness, because they come from the Father Himself. So, when anything else is called “good” in Scripture―whether angels, people, hearts, trees, or treasures―it’s called good only in a borrowed or figurative sense, not in the essential sense that belongs to God alone….”
Gary Pollard
[Editor’s Note: Gary is translating the Ante-Nicene Fathers works, beginning with Origin’s work. It is meant to update the British English of Roberts and Donaldson. What follows is part of that translation]
Thirdly, wisdom is called the radiance of eternal light. We already discussed the meaning of this phrase earlier, using the analogy of the sun and its rays to help explain it. Here, we’ll add just one further thought. Something is truly eternal if it never began to exist and never ceases to be what it is. This is what John means when he says, “God is light.” God’s wisdom is the radiance of that light―not just because it is light, but because it is eternal light. So, wisdom is the eternal and everlasting radiance of God. If we grasp this properly, we see clearly that the Son’s existence comes from the Father―but not in terms of time or from any origin other than God Himself.
Wisdom is also called the flawless mirror of God’s energy (or activity). So, we should first consider what the activity or working of God’s power is. It is a kind of living force through which God acts―whether in creating, governing the world, judging, or arranging all things in their proper time and place. Just as a mirror perfectly reflects everything a person does in front of it, wisdom should be understood as the flawless mirror of the Father’s power and actions. This is why Jesus Christ, who is the Wisdom of God, says, “The works that the Father does, the Son also does.” And again, “The Son can do nothing by Himself, but only what He sees the Father doing.”
The Son does not differ from the Father in power or action. The work of the Son is not separate from the work of the Father. Rather, both act in perfect unity―as if by one and the same motion. That’s why the Son is called a flawless mirror―to show that there is no difference at all between the Son and the Father. How then can it be right to say, as some do, that the Son imitates the Father like a student copies a teacher? Or that the Son creates material things based on spiritual patterns first made by the Father? These ideas don’t match what Scripture teaches. The gospel doesn’t say the Son does similar works to the Father―it says He does the same works, in the same way.
Now we turn to what it means that the Son is the image of His goodness. This, I believe, is similar to what we just said about the image in a mirror. God the Father is the original source of goodness, and the Son is born from that goodness. Because the Son fully reflects the Father, He can rightly be called the image of His goodness. The Son doesn’t possess some separate kind of goodness; His goodness is exactly the same as the Father’s. This is why the Rescuer says in the Gospel, “No one is good except God alone, the Father.” This statement shouldn’t be taken to mean that Christ is not good―but rather that his goodness comes entirely from the same source: the primal goodness of the Father.
The Son and the Spirit share in that same nature of divine goodness, because they come from the Father Himself. So, when anything else is called “good” in Scripture―whether angels, people, hearts, trees, or treasures―it’s called good only in a borrowed or figurative sense, not in the essential sense that belongs to God alone. To talk about all the titles of the Son of God―like true light, door, righteousness, sanctification, redemption, and many others―and to explain the reasons behind each one would take too long here. Since we’re content with what we’ve already said, we will continue on to the next part of our discussion.
Rising stark and solemn from the barren Saudi wilderness, the Split Rock of Horeb stands like a silent sentinel of ancient power. Towering nearly 60 feet high, the colossal granite monolith looms over the desolate plain, its weathered and tan flanks are etched by wind and time. But what sets it apart, what seizes the imagination…
Dale Pollard
—————————————————
It’s not just a rock.
It’s a rock surrounded by empty silence and scorched earth. It appears, not as a mere geological feature, but a thunderstruck altar where the desert drank. A place where a miracle met stone.
Rising stark and solemn from the barren Saudi wilderness, the Split Rock of Horeb stands like a silent sentinel of ancient power. Towering nearly 60 feet high, the colossal granite monolith looms over the desolate plain, its weathered and tan flanks are etched by wind and time. But what sets it apart, what seizes the imagination—is the cleft. A prodigious vertical split that is so unnaturally straight it’s as though it were torn by an invisible hand.
The two halves, still joined at the base, are separated by a gap so wide a man could walk between them. Where is the magic sword from heaven that must have struck it so cleanly?
At its base, the rock bears smooth channels and grooves—as if torrents of water once burst forth, carving trails into the stone that in wild obedience submit itself to divine command. Light filters through the divide, casting shadows that whisper about that day even to this day.
Yes, the rock still stands.
Despite centuries of exposure to harsh desert winds, sand, and temperature extremes, the massive split rock remains tall and intact. It has an imposing presence, seemingly sliced vertically in a way that defies typical erosion patterns. The site receives occasional attention, but not too much and rarely up close.
It’s in a remote, restricted area which is often under military control, and access has historically been limited or even outright prohibited by Saudi powers.
NO TRESPASSING?
Many of the widely circulated photos and videos of the rock come from unauthorized expeditions, but here’s a couple stand outs (Ron Wyatt won’t get any attention here).
Jim and Penny Caldwell
(1992)
They were just the average American oil workers living in Saudi Arabia, but with a neat twist.
On numerous occasions they took considerable personal risk by sneaking into restricted areas to document the rock and other sites, including:
The Split Rock
The blackened peak of Sinai
Altar-like structures and petroglyphs of bulls (linked to the golden calf story)
Oh, and they had to smuggle all pictures and footage out of the country.
Bob Cornuke
(Late 1990s-Early 2000s)
He was just your average former police investigator, but with a neat twist!
He collaborated with the Caldwells and visited the site to gather photographic and testimonial evidence. His trips were perfectly reasonable, just slightly (ok, entirely) unauthorized and clandestine.
Other explorers have faced interrogation, arrest, or deportation by Saudi authorities and the government has since built a fence around Split Rock. Access is now heavily restricted or off-limits to the public.
————————-//————————
Bonus Neat
Local Bedouins have called it the “Rock of Moses” for generations and their oral traditions speak of how water once flowed from it. Some Bedouins avoid the site entirely.
Bread Facts
“And the LORD said to Moses, ‘Pass on before the people, taking with you some of the elders of Israel, and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go.
I will stand before you there on the rock at Horeb, and you shall strike the rock, and water will come out of it, and the people will drink.’ And Moses did this in the sight of the elders of Israel.”
The Preacher Pollard Blog 