Tag: forgiveness

The Man Who Left His Clothes Behind

Carl Pollard

There’s a strange detail buried in the story of Jesus’ arrest. Mark 14:51–52 says, “And a young man followed him, with nothing but a linen cloth about his body. And they seized him, but he left the linen cloth and ran away naked.”

And then…he disappears. No name. No explanation. A young man sprinting into the darkness without his clothes. My question is why would Mark include that?

We can’t know for certain who the young man was. Some have suggested that it may have been Mark himself. That’s possible, but the text never identifies him.

What we do know is that Mark has placed this bizarre moment immediately after one of the saddest statements in his Gospel, “And they all left him and fled.” Mark 14:50

Jesus had spent years surrounded by people. Crowds followed Him. Disciples traveled with Him. Peter had just promised, “If I must die with you, I will not deny you.” Then the soldiers arrived and suddenly, following Jesus became dangerous. And everybody ran! 

Mark seems almost determined to show us how complete the abandonment was. Even this unnamed young man was so desperate to escape that when they grabbed his clothing, he chose to lose the clothing rather than stay with Jesus. He left everything behind (including his dignity) to get away.

There’s another young man later in the Gospel. After Jesus is crucified, several women enter His tomb. Mark 16:5 says, “And entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe…”

The first young man is fleeing into the darkness. The second is sitting inside an empty tomb announcing, “He has risen; he is not here.”They aren’t necessarily the same person. In fact, the young man in the tomb most likely an angelic messenger.

But the contrast is pretty cool. In chapter 14, everything looks lost. Jesus is arrested. His followers scatter. A young man runs away exposed and afraid. By chapter 16, everything has changed. The tomb is empty. Death has been defeated. And another young man, now clothed in white, announces victory.

That’s the story of the gospel. Sometimes we judge what God is doing while we’re standing in Mark 14. Everything is dark. Plans have collapsed. People have disappeared. Nothing makes sense.

But the story isn’t over. There’s still a Mark 16 coming. The same Gospel that records a man running terrified into the darkness ends with an empty tomb.

Sometimes the chapter that looks like the end is only three days away from resurrection.

Turn The Other Cheek

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Heart Of Jonah

Dale Pollard

The book of Jonah is a unique book in the Old Testament. Unlike other prophetic books, God chooses to focus on the prophet himself rather than the message being preached by him. While many lessons can be pulled from this four chapter book, there’s one in particular that we can all benefit from hearing from time to time. That lesson is that in order for true change to occur in our lives there must be a genuine transformation of the heart.

The book begins with God’s call to Jonah to preach to the wicked people of Nineveh and then closes with God’s response to Jonah’s anger at the penitent hearts of the Ninevites. Between these two divine speeches you read about the prophet’s incredible experience in the belly of a great fish. Many artist’s have painted pictures of Jonah desperately trying to keep his head above the waves while a terrifying monster breeches the surface with its mouth wide open preparing to swallow him. While this may be the image that comes to mind, Jonah gives us an interesting detail in his prayer. He recalls how the waters closed over him and he eventually reaches the sea floor where he is helplessly tangled in the weeds. While the murky waters cloud his vision his fate seemed very clear. Jonah admits that he called out to the Lord provoked by his great distress and this mental plea was a desperate attempt to preserve his life. God answers this cry by sending him a slippery savior. Jonah, while known to be a little on the dramatic side, will later recall how it was in the moment when his life was fainting away that he “remembered the Lord.” God saved a blatantly rebellious man who in no way deserved that salvation but He also allowed Jonah to reach great depths and come face to face with his own spiritual reality. Jonah was a long way from God, but not geographically.

Before Jonah became soaked by the stormy seas, he was soaked in a sin problem that had taken root in his heart. God allowed Jonah to physically experience rock bottom so that he could acknowledge some spiritual issues that distanced him from God. While Jonah may have desired to run from God, he came to the conclusion that being away from God was not the relief he thought it would be.

As traumatic as this event was, Jonah seems to emerge from the belly of the fish with lingering spiritual issues. Though he preaches to the city of Nineveh, there is still anger and hatred dominating his heart. The last chapter gives us a glimpse of this as he directs this anger towards the very God that saved him. In order for true change to occur, there must be a genuine change of heart. While low points can help us examine our heart health for a moment, relentless determination to live life differently is the key to success. A hopeful reminder for anyone who may find themselves in the depths of sin, there is no place too dark where God is not able to hear your prayers. 

My God Is So Big

Dale Pollard

“My problems are so big, my worries so mighty, there’s nothing my anxieties can’t do.” Wait, that’s not how that song goes. It’s been said that the there are more stars in the known universe than all of the sand on earth combined. That being said, in just one grain of sand there are more atoms than all of the stars. That’s pretty amazing. Our planet is but a speck in the grandeur of space. Countless stars, planets, galaxies, lightyears and somehow God is well aware of the happenings of people.

Have you stood on the mountain tops? Have you observed the power of the oceans as the waves crash on the shore? Has your heart almost stopped after the vibrating sensation of a thunder clap resinates in your chest? The might of the Creator is everywhere in the world around us and at times it just demands to be noticed.

1 Kings 19:11-13 is a section of scripture that is mysterious and fascinating. The Lord of hosts is about to show Himself to a depressed and exhausted Elijah, but in a way that he would never forget. “The Lord said, ‘go out on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’ Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out to stand at the mouth of the cave. Then the voice said, ‘what are you doing here Elijah?’” In the hush of Horeb, Elijah seeks to avoid the troubles of his world. The acoustics of the mountainous area along with the time spent in silence must have made the shattering rocks, raging fire, splitting hills, and rumbling earth all but deafening and definitely a terrifying display of divine power. Then in sharp contrast, a still whisper comes. This gentleness, no doubt, is the reason Elijah decides to cautiously emerge from his hiding place. God is teaching His worn-out servant a lesson that holds true for us today.

The fact is, there is no more God, His wisdom, power, and presence in an earthquake than there is in the sweet breath of a blooming flower. The quiet ticking of a wrist watch reveals just as much intelligence and purpose as does the striking of a clock tower’s bell. One may walk out into an open field at night and stare up into the vast sky, lit up with numerous twinkling stars and declare, “I’ve found God!” But God is no more in the sky than He is in the blades of grass flattened beneath your feet. The question came to Elijah from that still voice, “What are you doing here?” To the prophet, his problems were too great and too large and his solution was to run and hide. God, in a magnificent way, is trying to remind Elijah of his place. Our place in life is not to take matters into our own hands or solve life’s many difficulties on our own. The answer is not to run away, but to walk humbly with our awesome God. He is strong enough to lift our burdens, wise enough to counsel us, patient enough to allow us to learn, and loving enough to constantly forgive. My God is so big, so strong, and so mighty, there’s nothing my God cannot do— for you, too. 

Thinking the Best Instead of Assuming the Worst

Carl Pollard

Have you ever waved at someone you know and they didn’t wave back? What conclusion did you jump to? Probably something like, they’re upset with me. We do that all the time. We see a look, hear a tone, notice a decision, and instantly attach meaning to it. We don’t just observe what someone does, we assign motives. Then we start treating those motives like facts.

That’s dangerous, because most relationship damage doesn’t come from what people actually do. It comes from what we decide they meant.

Jesus said in John 7:24, “Don’t judge according to appearance, but judge with righteous judgment.” He didn’t remove judgment altogether. He corrected it. There’s a right way to evaluate and a wrong way. Assuming motives we don’t know falls into the wrong category.

In 1 Samuel 16, Samuel saw Eliab and immediately thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is before Him.” Eliab looked the part. He seemed strong, impressive, kingly. But God said, “Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” Samuel almost chose the wrong man because he based his conclusion on what he could see. We do the same thing! We speak confidently about hearts God hasn’t revealed. When we claim to know motives, we step into territory that belongs to God alone.

It gets worse. Once we assume the worst, we start building a case in our minds. In Mark 2, when Jesus forgave a man’s sins, the scribes immediately concluded He was blaspheming. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t investigate. They decided. That still happens today. One action becomes a pattern. One moment becomes a label. We create a version of someone in our minds that isn’t even real.

And a lot of times, we’re not reading people accurately at all. We’re reading them through our own wounds, insecurities, and past experiences. Joseph’s brothers did this in Genesis 50. Even after Joseph had forgiven them, they assumed he’d finally take revenge. Their guilt shaped their interpretation.

That kind of thinking hurts the church. Colossians 3:13 says we’re to bear with one another and forgive one another. Love gives space. Love shows patience. Love doesn’t default to suspicion. First Corinthians 13:7 says love “believes all things” and “hopes all things.” That doesn’t mean love is naive. It means love won’t rush to the worst conclusion.

Before you decide what someone meant, pause. Ask, Do I know this, or am I assuming? God knows the worst about us and still offers grace. We ought to show that same grace to others.

A Few Less Considered Benefits Of Baptism

Gary Pollard

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

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

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

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

Learning Valuable Lessons From An Unpleasant Action

Neal Pollard

Fifteen months after a dear Christian was withdrawn from for a sin addressed in 1 Corinthians 5:9-11, that one came back home and was restored to fellowship last Wednesday. Both decisions, the withdrawal and restoration, were accompanied by a lot of emotions. But when repentance was publicly demonstrated, tears filled many eyes and smiles adorned many happy and relieved faces. Much that occurred in that moment is truly hard to put into words. With one young person making such a humble, courageous decision, we saw so many powerful things happen at the same time.

  • God’s plan works when we work His plan.
  • Godly elders acting with love and courage should be commended, not condemned.
  • Such elders did what they did out of deep love for a wayward soul. 
  • Discipline, done right, is loving. 
  • Sometimes we are asked by God to do things that make no earthly sense to us, but submission is required whether or not we understand or agree with them. 
  • Christians, especially friends of the fallen, who submit to a righteous decision from the leadership help bring a soul back home.
  • A good heart, touched by the power of the gospel and by exhorting friends, can be softened and led back home.
  • While there is time, there is opportunity.
  • Seeing people’s faith in God’s Word confirmed is exciting and encouraging.
  • The more invested people were in retrieving the fallen, the more joy and relief seemed evident. 
  • If there is an “older brother” in our congregation, “he” is yet to be identified. 
  • Satan cannot be happy, and we must help guard this precious soul from him.
  • Our task is to reaffirm our love for this one, to provide needed comfort and to put this permanently behind us all. 
  • It is hoped that we never have to go through with this here again, but if we do we should refer back to this situation. 
  • It is not our prerogative to pick and choose what truths to accept and reject. 

The specific passages were not cited with each of those bullet points, but one can gain insight from such vital passages as Matthew 18:15-17, 1 Corinthians 5:1-13, 2 Corinthians 2:6-11, Galatians 6:1, James 5:19-20, Hebrews 12:5-17, and 2 Thessalonians 3:11-15. They help us understand what God would have us do, how He would have us do it, and why He would have us do it. We cannot outthink Him or devise a better plan. Not every wayward soul comes back home, tragically. But when such matters are handled in the right way with the right spirit, we are doing the most extreme thing we can do “so that his (or her) spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord” (1 Cor. 5:5). May these lessons learned not be soon forgotten.

Whiter Than Snow

Dale Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Dangerous Lie We All Believe

Neal Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

The Tragedy of Judas: When a Heart Hardens Against Grace

Let us search our hearts with ruthless honesty, bringing every hidden sin, every cherished idol, every secret compromise into the light of Christ’s presence. Let us choose Peter’s path of humble repentance over Judas’s path of proud despair.

Brent Pollard

 The Humanity of Christ in the Face of Betrayal

In John 13:21-30, Christ reveals a profound insight into His humanity. Jesus, with a troubled spirit, revealed the identity of His betrayer through an act of fellowship—the sharing of bread. Jesus’ action was not a casual disclosure. The text reveals a Savior who experienced the weight of impending betrayal with genuine human anguish. He had chosen someone He knew to be a devil (John 6.70), and now the hour had arrived for that devil to execute his dark purpose.

Even in this moment of revelation, we witness Christ’s unwavering mercy. His acknowledgment of what Judas was about to do served as a final lifeline extended to the infamous traitor—one last opportunity to turn back from the precipice. This enduring mercy is a beacon of hope for all of us, reminding us that no matter how far we may have strayed, Christ’s grace is always within reach.

The Hardening Power of Unrepentant Sin

Sadly, Judas’s love of money and his own twisted ambitions had calcified his heart against both the deeds and words of Jesus. He had already negotiated his treachery, his mind fixed on the thirty pieces of silver promised by the chief priests (Matthew 26.14-16). Here we see a sobering truth: sustained exposure to Christ does not guarantee transformation. One can walk in the very presence of the Son of God and yet remain unmoved, unchanged, unredeemed.

The text tells us that “Satan entered” Judas (John 13.27). But what does this mean? We must resist the temptation to absolve Judas of responsibility by imagining some irresistible demonic possession. No, Satan did not override the will of a helpless man. Instead, he exploited the foothold Judas had already granted through his unrepentant sin, his corrosive greed, and his fundamental lack of faith. The phrase “Satan entered” signifies Judas’s complete surrender to the evil influence he had been cultivating in his own heart. It marked a decisive point of no return, the final rejection of Jesus’s appeals to repentance.

The Reality of Moral Agency Even in Darkness

Here we encounter a mystery that the shallow mind cannot fathom: even after Satan entered Judas, he retained sufficient moral agency to feel guilt, to return the blood money to the chief priests, and ultimately to take his own life (Matthew 27.3-5). This remorse, though powerful, was not genuine repentance. True repentance would have driven him to God for forgiveness, as Peter’s denial later drove him to weeping restoration. Instead, Judas’s guilt led only to despair—a worldly sorrow that produces death rather than the godly sorrow that leads to salvation.

James illuminates the progression: a person becomes enslaved to sin by yielding to their own lust. When that lust conceives, it gives birth to sin. When sin reaches full maturity, it brings forth death (James 1.13-15). Judas walked this path to its bitter end, each step a choice, each choice hardening the next.

The Contrast of Two Betrayers: Judas and Peter

The story of Judas serves as a stark warning about the human capacity to reject grace, even when confronted with overwhelming love and unmistakable conviction. While God’s offer of salvation extends to everyone, it requires a willing and humble heart to receive it. Judas’s ultimate fate—despair and suicide—stands in sharp contrast to Peter, who, despite his own devastating denial, turned to Jesus in repentance and received complete forgiveness.

Both men betrayed Christ. Both felt crushing guilt. Yet their responses diverged at the crucial point: Peter ran toward mercy; Judas ran from it. Peter believed forgiveness was possible; Judas believed his sin was unforgivable. This stark contrast serves as a powerful reminder of the impact our choices can have on our lives.

Practical Warning: The Danger of Walking with Jesus Without Surrender

Judas serves as a tragic example of someone who allowed his lust for money and power to lead him toward betrayal and destruction. His story reveals an uncomfortable truth: even people who walk closely with Jesus, witness His miracles, hear His teachings, and participate in His ministry can fall prey to the temptations of this world if they do not genuinely surrender their hearts.

What distinguished Judas from the other disciples was not the absence of sin—they all sinned—but the presence of unrepentant, cherished sin that he refused to bring into the light.

Closing: A Call to Self-Examination

The question Judas’s life poses to each of us is searingly personal: Are we cultivating hardness in our hearts through unconfessed sin? Are we, like Judas, close to Jesus in proximity but distant in devotion? Do we serve Him with our hands while withholding our hearts? The grace that could have saved Judas is the same grace offered to us today. But grace must be received, not merely observed. You should embrace it rather than acknowledge it.

Let us search our hearts with ruthless honesty, bringing every hidden sin, every cherished idol, every secret compromise into the light of Christ’s presence. Let us choose Peter’s path of humble repentance over Judas’s path of proud despair. The same Christ who extended mercy to His betrayer still extends it to us—but we must reach out and take hold of it before our hearts grow too hard to feel His touch. The time to respond is now, while the Spirit still speaks, while grace still calls, while the door of repentance remains open. Tomorrow may find us, like Judas, having crossed a point of no return that we never saw coming.

The Debt Of Love

The hymn “Alas and Did My Savior Bleed” captures the heart of the Christian response to Jesus’ sacrifice: “But drops of grief can ne’er repay the debt of love I owe; Here, Lord, I give myself away, ’tis all that I can do.” This “debt of love” isn’t like the $18 trillion in financial debt Americans carry…

Carl Pollard

The hymn “Alas and Did My Savior Bleed” captures the heart of the Christian response to Jesus’ sacrifice: “But drops of grief can ne’er repay the debt of love I owe; Here, Lord, I give myself away, ’tis all that I can do.” This “debt of love” isn’t like the $18 trillion in financial debt Americans carry, like mortgages, credit cards, or student loans. Unlike monetary debt, the debt of love is a lifelong obligation, as Paul writes in Romans 13:8, “Owe no one anything, except to love one another.” 

In Luke 7:36-50, we see this debt of love unfold in an account of grace and judgment, humility and pride. Jesus dines at the home of Simon, a Pharisee who prides himself on strict adherence to the law. In first-century Jewish culture, dining was an honor, yet Simon’s hospitality is cold. He offers Jesus no water for His feet, no kiss of greeting, no oil for His head. These were customary acts of respect (vv. 44-46). His indifference reveals a heart of pride.

Then enters an uninvited woman, a “sinner” (hamartōlos in Greek), likely notorious in her community, possibly a prostitute. Her presence in a Pharisee’s home is unheard of, yet she brings an alabaster jar of perfume, worth a year’s wages, and pours out her worship. Weeping loudly, she wets Jesus’ feet with her tears, wipes them with her hair, kisses them, and anoints them with perfume (v. 38). While Simon is judging silently the whole time! He questions Jesus’ discernment: “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him” (v. 39). Simon’s pride blinds him, while the woman’s humility drives her to worship.

Jesus responds with a parable: two debtors owe a moneylender, one 500 denarii (two years’ wages), the other 50 (two months’ income). Neither can pay, but both are forgiven. “Which will love him more?” Jesus asks (vv. 41-42). Simon answers, “The one who had the bigger debt forgiven” (v. 43). The woman, aware of her great debt, offers extravagant love; Simon, assuming his debt is small, offers none.

Jesus contrasts their actions: “You gave me no water… but she wet my feet with her tears… You gave me no kiss, but she has not stopped kissing my feet” (vv. 44-45). He says, “Her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown” (v. 47). Her love doesn’t earn forgiveness; it’s evidence of grace received through faith (v. 50). Simon, believing he needs little forgiveness, loves little.

So where do we stand? Like Simon, do we judge others while ignoring our own sin? Romans 3:23 reminds us, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Colossians 2:14 declares Jesus “canceled the record of debt… nailing it to the cross.” If our love for Him has grown cold, perhaps we’ve forgotten the weight of that debt.

Picture this woman, broken at Jesus’ feet, offering her tears and treasure. Now picture yourself. Are you offering pride or worship? Let’s remember the cross, where Jesus paid our unpayable debt. We would do well to pour out our lives like her perfume, through worship, obedience, and love for others.

Standing In The Gap

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

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

The Truth

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

Carl Pollard 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hosea’s One Bride–and the One Messiah

But who is this woman? Is she the same Gomer whom Hosea married in chapter 1, or does she represent a second bride, perhaps symbolizing Judah alongside Israel in some grand drama of two sisters? Here stands one of those interpretive crossroads where the very trajectory of revelation hangs in the balance.

Brent Pollard

In the ancient landscape of Scripture, few passages arrest the soul quite like Hosea 3, where God commands His prophet: “Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the Lord loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins.” (Hosea 3.1). Here Hosea purchases her—this mysterious woman—“for fifteen shekels of silver and a homer and a lethech of barley,” then withholds marital relations for “many days” (Hosea 3.2-3).

But who is this woman? Is she the same Gomer whom Hosea married in chapter 1, or does she represent a second bride, perhaps symbolizing Judah alongside Israel in some grand drama of two sisters? Here stands one of those interpretive crossroads where the very trajectory of revelation hangs in the balance.

Two paths stretch before the careful reader. A minority of conservative scholars sees chapter 3 as a fresh symbolic act with another adulteress, sometimes linked to Judah through the “two sisters” motif found elsewhere in prophetic literature. Yet the majority view—held by the great cloud of classic conservative commentators—perceives one continuous drama with one wife, one covenant, one story of love’s persistence through the darkest valleys of unfaithfulness.

This latter reading, I would argue, best preserves the magnificent Messianic arc that governs the whole of Hosea 1-3, an arc as vast and purposeful as the eucatastrophe that crowns the most remarkable tales ever told.

The Divine Command and Its Shocking Grace

Chapter 1 opens with words that still have power to startle the modern heart: “Go, take to yourself a wife of whoredom and have children of whoredom, for the land commits great whoredom by forsaking the Lord” (1:2). What kind of God would command such a thing? Only one whose love burns with such intensity that He will use even the prophet’s agony to mirror His own heart’s breaking.

Hosea obeys—for prophets know something of the weight of divine calling—and marries Gomer. Their children become living sermons, their names carving judgment into the very air that Israel breathes. Jezreel speaks of scattering that follows political bloodshed; Lo-Ruhamah means “No Mercy,” signaling heaven’s withdrawal of compassion; Lo-Ammi—“Not My People”—depicts the ultimate horror: covenant rupture, the tearing of that sacred bond that once made them the apple of God’s eye (1.4-9).

The effect is deliberately devastating. This departure is no mere moral slip, no gentle wandering from the path. Israel’s sin bears the face of spiritual adultery against the very God who chose her, loved her, called her from Egypt, and made her His own.

The Promise That Changes Everything

Yet—oh, what power lies in that simple word!—judgment is not God’s final word. Immediately after the “Not My People” sentence, Hosea hears a promise of breathtaking scope: “Yet the number of the children of Israel shall be like the sand of the sea, which cannot be measured or numbered. And in the place where it was said to them, “You are not my people,” it shall be said to them, “Children of the living God.” And the children of Judah and the children of Israel shall be gathered together, and they shall appoint for themselves one head.” (1.10-11).

Here stands the North Star by which we must navigate all that follows. The story moves inexorably toward reunion under a single Davidic ruler—toward the Messiah. This reconciliation is not merely restoration but transformation, not simply healing but resurrection unto new life.

When Love Becomes a Lawsuit, Then Wedding Song

Chapter 2 unfolds like a covenant lawsuit in the courts of eternity. The Judge indicts His faithless spouse, exposes her idols and ill-placed alliances, announces discipline that will strip away the very gifts she has misused for evil purposes (2.2-13). Justice must speak its harsh truth before mercy can whisper its tender promises.

But then the tone pivots from court to courtship. “Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her.” (2.14). The wilderness, that place of testing and purging, becomes a wedding aisle where love writes its most beautiful poetry.

Hear how the Bridegroom’s voice grows tender: “And I will betroth you to me forever. I will betroth you to me in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love and in mercy. I will betroth you to me in faithfulness. And you shall know the Lord.” (2.19-20).

This promise is a covenant renewal of the most glorious kind—not by human reform or religious effort, but by pure divine initiative. The righteousness will be His gift, the faithfulness His accomplishment, the steadfast love His very nature poured out upon the undeserving.

The Purchase Price of Love

Chapter 3 returns us to the sign-act, but now we see it through the lens of promise. God commands Hosea to “love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the Lord loves the children of Israel” (3.1). He buys her—this woman whom love will not release—and then imposes a season of chaste separation: “You must dwell as mine for many days. You shall not play the whore, or belong to another man; so will I also be to you.” (3.3).

On the majority reading, this is Gomer once more—the same woman, the same covenant, the same costly love. The symbolism thunders with gospel truth: the bride belongs to Hosea by right of covenant, yet he pays a price to reclaim her from slavery. She dwells under his protection, yet marital intimacy waits for the appointed time. It is a perfect picture of God’s people under discipline—kept and preserved by unshakeable love, yet awaiting the full warmth of restored fellowship.

Why prefer the “one wife” interpretation over “two”? Textually, the prophecy promises not two restored marriages, but one united people under “one head” (1.11). Thematically, a single spouse clarifies the gospel shape of this ancient drama: one relationship broken by sin, one redemption purchased by love, one reunion consummated by grace. To split the sign into separate unions risks obscuring that clean line running from Israel’s infidelity to the Messiah’s unifying reign.

The Long Wait and the Coming King

Hosea himself interprets the sign with words both sobering and hopeful: “For the children of Israel shall dwell many days without king or prince, without sacrifice or pillar, without ephod or household gods” (3:4). A prolonged season follows—kingless, templeless, suspended between judgment and restoration. It is discipline, but discipline shot through with promise.

For afterward, the prophet declares, “the children of Israel shall return and seek the Lord their God, and David their king, and they shall come in fear to the Lord and to his goodness in the latter days.” (3.5). “David” here is no mere historical echo but the promised Son of David, the Root and Offspring of Jesse’s line, the King whose kingdom shall have no end.

In the New Testament’s brilliant light, that restoration dawns in Jesus Christ, who gathers the scattered, “broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility” and creates “in himself one new man in place of the two” (Ephesians 2.14-15). The apostles see clearly how Hosea’s reversal—“Those who were not my people I will call ‘my people,’ and her who was not beloved I will call ‘beloved.’” (Romans 9.25) applies to all who are called into Christ, whether Jew or Gentile. As Peter puts it with stunning directness: “Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.” (1 Peter 2.10).

The bride is being made ready for the marriage supper of the Lamb (2 Corinthians 11.2; Revelation 19.7-9).

Gospel Theater in an Ancient Home

Hosea’s household, then, becomes gospel theater of the most profound sort: covenant love initiates the drama, sin wounds the heart of it, grace pursues through every shadow, redemption pays the necessary price, sanctified waiting refines the beloved, and Messianic reunion brings the story to its glorious close.

The “same woman” reading allows us to feel this story as Scripture intends—a single, unbroken through-line running from rupture to redemption, from betrayal to betrothal, under one Head who is Christ Jesus our Lord. In His nail-scarred hands, every broken covenant finds healing, every faithless heart discovers mercy, and every wayward bride learns the deep, costly joy of being loved with an everlasting love.

This is the gospel that Hosea’s pain purchased for our instruction, the good news that his obedience spelled out in living letters. One bride, one Bridegroom, one story of love that will not let us go—no matter how far we wander, no matter how deep we fall. For such is the love of the God who calls things that are not as though they were, and who makes His enemies into His beloved.

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Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

The Lamb, Not the Seductress: Reexamining Bathsheba’s Story

So, did David not know who she was? It’s difficult to believe that a woman connected to three men in David’s inner circle was a stranger to him. More likely, the evening light and David’s rooftop vantage point allowed him to see her form but not recognize her.

Brent Pollard

July 15, 2025, seemed like an ordinary day, but it became extraordinary when a CEO was caught canoodling with a fellow employee on the kiss cam during a Coldplay concert. The intimate moment quickly went viral, especially since the CEO was married. Many likely felt schadenfreude over the fall of a wealthy individual worth between $20 and $70 million. This contemporary scandal provides a lens through which to examine how we often misread similar biblical narratives. Frankly, I believe it is best to heed the words of Paul: while we expose evil deeds, we do not speak in detail about what is done in secret (Ephesians 5.11–12). Still, I needed to establish this cultural backdrop for this article.

One of those quick to offer a take on the July 15 incident was the satirical site The Babylon Bee. I typically enjoy their brand of humor, but this time they missed the mark. They likened the scandal to the biblical account of David and Bathsheba. If Bathsheba truly were the gold-digging seductress some portray her as, then the comparison might be justified. But she wasn’t. Bathsheba was a victim of a powerful man’s abuse, which makes The Bee’s joke not only flat but also deeply inappropriate.

This article will build a case, as if in a court of law, defending Bathsheba against unjust accusations. I will argue that she was a victim of rape and that her husband was murdered to conceal the crime. The evidence is found in 2 Samuel 11.

First, the text reveals David’s negligence and sets the stage for what follows. Verse one sets the tone: it was the season when kings customarily led their troops into battle. But David stayed home. He was not where he was supposed to be. Then in verse two, we find that David is getting out of bed in the evening. The text doesn’t say why, but the timing is odd. I can’t help but think of the words attributed to David’s son: “How long will you lie down, O sluggard? When will you arise from your sleep?” (Proverbs 6.9). It reminds us of the adage that idle hands are the devil’s workshop. This context of David’s negligence becomes crucial when we examine what happens next. Had David been at the front, none of what follows may have occurred.

As David walks on his rooftop, he sees a woman bathing. The text tells us she was very beautiful (2 Samuel 11.2). Unlike Job, who made a covenant with his eyes not to gaze lustfully (Job 31.1), David does not look away. Instead, he inquires about her (v. 3). The answer he receives is revealing: this is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, and the wife of Uriah the Hittite. Bathsheba has three direct relational ties to David. Uriah and Eliam were part of David’s elite band of mighty men (2 Samuel 23.34, 39). Additionally, Eliam was the son of Ahithophel, one of David’s counselors (2 Samuel 15.12).

So, did David not know who she was? It’s difficult to believe that a woman connected to three men in David’s inner circle was a stranger to him. More likely, the evening light and David’s rooftop vantage point allowed him to see her form but not recognize her. This is important: Bathsheba was not bathing at a time or place where she should have expected to be seen.

Second, examining Bathsheba’s actions shows she was following the Law, not acting seductively. There is debate about why Bathsheba was bathing. Some translations imply she was purifying herself from her monthly period; others suggest she was washing after intercourse with David. But here’s the key: if she were washing after sex, then both she and David would have had to bathe according to Leviticus 15.18. Yet the text only describes Bathsheba bathing.

More importantly, verse four tells us she was purifying herself from her impurity. The Hebrew word tum’ah refers to ritual uncleanness, and in Leviticus 15.19–30, this term is explicitly used for menstrual impurity. The law outlines a process of purification following menstruation, including waiting seven days and bathing before being considered clean. So the context supports that Bathsheba was obeying the Law of Moses, not reacting to a sinful encounter.

Furthermore, we are not told where Bathsheba was bathing. Was it on a rooftop, as depicted in art? We don’t know. The only specified location is David’s. He was on a rooftop with a clear, elevated view. Suggesting that Bathsheba was being immodest or trying to attract attention assumes she knew David was not at war, knew he was home, and knew he would be waking up and wandering onto the roof at that very moment—all highly improbable. The seduction theory collapses under its weight.

When we scrutinize the text, it becomes clear that Bathsheba was where she was supposed to be, doing what the Law required. David was not. He was idle, indulgent, and willfully blind. What followed was not an affair. It was an act of power and violation. We must stop blaming Bathsheba for being seen and instead call David’s sin what it truly was. I know we are uncomfortable calling David a rapist, but we don’t seem to have a problem with acknowledging his premeditated murder of Uriah.

Finally, the prophet Nathan’s parable confirms this interpretation and validates Bathsheba’s innocence. Of course, David later repented (Psalm 51), and Scripture still calls him a man after God’s own heart (1 Samuel 13.14). But his heart was not aligned with God in 2 Samuel 11. The prophet Nathan’s parable does not depict Bathsheba as a co-conspirator. She is the poor man’s beloved lamb, taken and slaughtered by one who had many (2 Samuel 12.1–4). The lamb does not seduce the butcher.

Justice for Bathsheba does not mean denying David’s restoration. It simply means telling the truth: she was not the temptress. She was the victim.

10,000 Reasons To Forgive

Carl Pollard

How many sins did you commit last week? Intentional or not, the number’s probably higher than you’d care to admit. Now think about this year—four months in, how many times have you let God down? Sin’s no small thing. It defies God’s holy nature, builds a wall between us and Him, and tears us apart from the inside. We love picturing God as all about love—and He is—but Proverbs 6:16-19 lists seven things He hates: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that spill innocent blood, a scheming heart, feet racing to evil, a false witness, and someone who stirs up division. Done any of those lately? Zoom out to your whole life—how many sins would fill your book? The weight of that debt is crushing and “unpayable.”

Jesus tells a story in Matthew 18:21-35 that hits this hard. Peter asks, “How often should I forgive my brother?” Thinking he’s generous, he suggests seven times—way past the rabbis’ three. Jesus shuts that down: “Not seven, but seventy times seven.” Don’t count—just forgive. Then He goes on to teach about a servant who owes his king 10,000 talents—60 million days’ wages, an impossible debt. The king could’ve sold him and his family, but instead, he forgives it all out of sheer compassion. What does the servant do? He chokes a guy who owes him pocket change—100 denarii—and throws him in prison. Same plea, “Be patient,” but no mercy. The king hears, calls him wicked, and reinstates the debt. Jesus ends it blunt: “So My Father will do to you if you don’t forgive from the heart.”

Our sin debt’s like that 60 million days—”unpayable.” Yet God forgives it through Jesus’ death and resurrection. Ephesians 2 says it’s grace, not our effort. But here’s the point: if we’ve been forgiven that much, how can we not forgive others? That servant’s hypocrisy is ours when we hold grudges or burn bridges. Jesus says the standard we use on others is the one God’ll use on us. If we can’t release someone’s debt against us, our own forgiveness hangs in the balance. 

How often do we forgive? Don’t count—God doesn’t count your sins against you. He releases the debt every time we ask. We’ve got to do the same.

Two Goats, One Savior

Sometimes, we read in the Old Testament about events, people, and things, wondering its significance. But, if we keep reading, we will often see why they are there. Brent discusses one of those today.

Brent Pollard

An intriguing aspect of the Day of Atonement—frequently neglected—is the significance of the scapegoat. In Leviticus 16.10, the English Standard Version designates the scapegoat as Azazel. In contemporary discourse, scapegoat refers to an individual unjustly laden with blame during strife or turmoil. Remarkably, that concept traces back to the holy observance established by the Lord for the Day of Atonement.

We often focus on the goat whose blood the priest sprinkles on the mercy seat (Leviticus 16.15). And rightly so—this initial offering represented reconciliation, a blessing we yearn for profoundly. A definition of atonement is “making amends by offering something of equal value for a wrong done.” To put it succinctly, because the result of wrongdoing is death (Romans 6.23), the goat’s demise satisfied God’s just wrath.

However, the second goat—the one designated for removal—holds an equally important significance. Once offering the initial goat, the High Priest placed his hands upon the head of the scapegoat, proclaiming the people’s transgressions before releasing it into the wilderness (Leviticus 16.21–22). I have a deep appreciation for the way the NASB1995 translates verse 22:

“The goat shall bear on itself all their iniquities to a solitary land; and he shall release the goat in the wilderness.”

This vivid image reminds me of Psalm 103:12, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.” While this imagery may not resonate with flat-earthers, round-earthers understand that traveling east or west never ends—you never “arrive.” Similarly, the scapegoat symbolically carried the people’s sins to a distant place where they could never return.

The significance for Christians is deeply impactful. The Lord Jesus, the Lamb of God, offered His blood, establishing a lasting atonement for our transgressions (1 John 2.2; see Hebrews 9.12; 10.10). Yet He also embodied the scapegoat—removing our sins (see 1 John 3.5). Both were essential for our purpose. For reconciliation, death was necessary; therefore, Jesus took on the role of our Paschal Lamb. However, reconciliation with the Divine necessitated the removal of sin—and it is in this context, the symbolism of the scapegoat fulfills its purpose.

Ultimately, the scapegoat is extremely important to believers. It reminds us that Jesus paid the price for our sins and took them away altogether. Jesus bridges the gap between us and God by dying and absolving our sins. He is both the slain Lamb and the scapegoat who carried our sins away. Through this dual work, we experience forgiveness, freedom, and reconciliation—a gift we should never take for granted.

Nobody Is Perfect

Cody Basham

Nobody is perfect. That’s not news to anyone. However, if you are not a Christian yet and you are learning some of the Bible’s teachings you might wonder if you are too imperfect to become a Christian. But let me assure you; you are not. One of the most well-known apostles of the Bible is Paul. Most of us know the backstory of Paul and how he is known initially as Saul of Tarsus, a persecutor of Christians. He was literally the opposite of a Christian.

In Acts 9:1-18 the Bible records how Saul goes from being a persecutor to a baptized believer. In verses 1-3 we see how he was actively “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord….” Now Saul was well known for zealously persecuting Christians throughout the entirety of Rome. He even recounts his own actions again in Acts 22:4 where he states, “I persecuted Christians this Way to the death, binding and delivering into prisons both men and women.” At the time, Saul had a terrible reputation for someone that would later become a Christian. However, God had bigger plans for Saul.

Looking on down at verses 3-6, it says, “As he journeyed he came near Damascus, and suddenly a light shone around him from heaven. Then he fell to the ground, and heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?’” And he said, ‘Who are you, Lord?’ Then the Lord said, ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’ So he, trembling and astonished, said, ‘Lord, what do You want me to do?’ Then the Lord said to him, ‘Arise and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.’” Now we know that Saul lost his sight for 3 days until Ananias had laid his hands on him to regain his vision and ultimately to receive the Holy Spirit too.

Then in the second half of verse 18, the Bible recorded that Saul arose and was baptized. After his baptism he spent a few days with the disciples at Damascus learning about Jesus and God’s will. Furthermore after Saul had regained his strength from his journey to Damascus, he immediately preached the Christ in the synagogues, that He [Jesus] is the Son of God. In essence we see if you answer God’s call and as it states in John 8:31-32, “If you abide in My word, you are My disciples indeed. And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” But what are we free from?

In John 8:34-36, we see Jesus speaking to the Jews stating, “Most assuredly, I say to you, whoever commits sin is a slave of sin. And a slave does not abide in the house forever, but a son abides forever. Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.” As Christians we know sin is a bondage of death. We know we need a savior that frees us from that bondage. Jesus is that Savior.

Another example is found in the first few verses of Matthew chapter 9, where the Pharisees are questioning why Jesus sat with Matthew who was a tax collector and his disciples at the same table. In verses 12 and 13, Jesus responded intently with “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy and not sacrifice.’ For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.” If you are struggling with any kind of sin, any kind at all, you are not alone. There are plenty of people who struggle with sin day to day but are taking small steps each day to become a little better. Will we become perfect over a lifetime of dedication? No, but we will be better. And for what shortcomings we do have, God’s grace will abound.

God knows we will stumble from time to time, but that does not mean as a Christian we should continue in sin. In Romans 6:1-2 Paul wrote ,“What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound? Certainly not! How shall we who died to sin live any longer in it?” Paul later suggests in Romans 6:11 “…reckon yourselves to be dead indeed to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” He then reiterates in verse 23, “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

I want you to know that no matter what your current situation is, you are not alone. We have so many Christians that would be more than willing to help you walk with Jesus.

When The Evidence Is Stacked Against You

Have you heard about Iwao Hakamada’s case? Maybe you have heard about someone innocent who was prosecuted for something they did not do. How is that not the spiritual situation for us? What does the Bible say about this?

Neal Pollard

Iwao Hakamada was a professional boxer convicted of murdering his employer and employer’s family in 1966. In 1968, he was sentenced to death by a Japanese court. The conviction was based on a confession Hakamada said was coaxed by threats, beatings, and twenty days of relentless police interrogation. 

He maintained his innocence from death row for almost 45 years, with 30 of those years in solitary confinement. But it was more than 600 pieces of evidence disclosed by a prosecutor that triggered a retrial. He was the world’s longest-serving death row prisoner. But on September 26, 2024, 88-year-old Hakamada was set free (much info gathered from amnesty.org). 

I don’t know about you, but finding out about this led me to multiple reactions–sadness, outrage, sympathy. An entire lifetime of freedom and experiencing what most take for granted was lost due to injustice. An innocent man was treated as guilty, and a sentence of death loomed over him every day. He knew he had not done what he was accused of, but those with the power in this situation concluded that he had. Or they tried to keep his innocence concealed. 

Have you considered our condition? Every accountable person in the world is on spiritual death row unless or until he or she is set free (2 Cor. 1:9). There is no evidence to overturn or bring acquittal (Rom. 5:16). We are guilty as charged (Rom. 3:23; 5:12). The offense will probably not be murder, but it is just as critical! 

What is incredible is that the One who will stand as our Judge in the last day (John 12:48) has done everything in His omnipotent power to set us free (Rom. 8:2; Gal. 5:1). Some run toward His rescue when they are young, then use that freedom to serve (Gal. 5:13). Some wait and others are not even aware freedom is possible until much later in life. All of this latter group would tell you they wish they had made the decision sooner! But no matter what the evidence is against you, you can be freed from the sentence (John 5:24; 1 John 4:17).  

Hosea: Unfaithfulness (XIV)

How is God’s expectation of repentance in Hosea’s day parallel to our day?

“Return” (14:1-9)

Neal Pollard

God ends His message through Hosea with a plan for Israel’s repentance. It is thorough and thoughtful. It is pointed, but pleading. God can perfectly foresee the collision course with spiritual disaster that this nation is on, and He wants them to feel the urgency of their situation. The postscript at the end of the book (9) calls on the wise, understanding, and discerning person to know and do. 

The Lord begins with what the people must do (1-3).  In a word, they must “return.” In this, they must acknowledge that they have gone astray (“you have stumbled…”)(1). Their repentance and returning would be articulated with words (2-3). With humility and honesty, they must confess to God how they had betrayed Him. 

The Lord promises what He will do (4-8). Notice that God looks to the future and uses the word “will” 12 times in these last six verses. If they genuinely return to Him, He is anxious and ready to heal and love them. But, more than that, God focuses them on what their return would do for them. Every other occurrence of the word “will” speaks of the abundance and blessings that would follow Israel’s restoration. It would be apparent to others that God was blessing these penitent people. 

The Lord appeals to what He expects and why (9). He expects people to evaluate their spiritual situation and make the right decision. He expects that every accountable one could do that and, in wisdom, would do that. He expects them to do that because His ways are right and “the righteous will walk in them, but transgressors will stumble in them.”

Consider that our situation parallels what God says to Israel through Hosea in this chapter. Through Christ, He has told us what we must do (Luke 3:10,12,14; Acts 2:37ff; Acts 16:30). Think about the multitude of promises that flow out of our obedient, penitent response to His will (Js. 1:17). He tells us what He expects and why (6:6; Dt. 10:12; Mic. 6:8). The question is, will we be wise, understanding, and discerning? Will we appreciate the protective love of our spiritual groom and His reasonable expectations that we be faithful to Him?