Tag: God

A Profile In Genesis

Dale Pollard

The first book of the Bible is one that has always intrigued its readers. Here’s a profile of the contents and context of this inspired work.

Earliest Date

The traditional view says that Moses composed Genesis during or shortly after the Exodus (1400-1200 BC). This was the standard belief of ancient Israel and early Christianity. Later, there was some debate (lacking satisfying proof) over whether it was written closer to 900-500BC. However, nearly everyone seems to agree that the accounts themselves preserve much older material.

Historical Coverage

Genesis spans from creation to the death of Joseph in Egypt. During this period, major events like the Flood, the Tower of Babel, and the Patriarchs. Depending on what source you use you’ll find timelines from 2,600 years (Masoretic chronology) to over 5,000 years (According to Flavius Josephus). 

Incredible Accuracy

The universe had a definite beginning, but before that was acknowledged, it was something that even 19th century scientists resisted.

Humans are made from the “dust of the earth.” Modern biochemistry shows the human body is literally made of the same elements found in soil—carbon, iron, oxygen, trace metals.

Purpose

To explain the origins of the world and humanity. It answers big questions like where everything came from and why we exist. It explains why the world we live in is both beautiful and broken.

It establishes Israel’s Identity. The twelve tribes and their ancestry would trickle down through history to produce the promised Messiah (Gen. 49.8-12).

Did Jesus Go to Hell? Clearing Up a Common Misunderstanding

Brent Pollard

How often we hear it said—in songs, in sermons, even recited in ancient creeds—that Jesus “went to hell” after His crucifixion. The phrase rolls off the tongue with such familiarity that few pause to question whether Scripture actually teaches such a thing. Yet here is where we must be careful, for familiarity can breed assumption, and assumption can obscure truth.

The reality is both simpler and more glorious than the popular notion suggests. Yes, Jesus descended somewhere after His death—but it was not to the hell of eternal punishment. The confusion arises from a tangle of translation issues, historical traditions, and well-meaning but imprecise language. However, God’s Word speaks with unmistakable clarity once we understand what terms like Hades, Sheol, and Gehenna actually mean.

Let us think clearly about this matter, for the truth of Christ’s death and resurrection deserves nothing less than our most careful attention.

The Root of the Confusion: Words Matter

Much of our confusion stems from a problem as simple as translation. Scripture employs three distinct words to describe the afterlife, each with its own meaning:

  • Sheol (Old Testament): The realm of the dead—a shadowy place where all departed souls once dwelt
  • Hades (New Testament): The Greek equivalent of Sheol—the temporary abode of the dead
  • Gehenna: The place of final, eternal punishment—what we properly call hell

Here lies the problem: older English translations, particularly the King James Version, routinely render all three of these words as “hell,” even though they carry distinct meanings. Imagine the muddle this creates! It’s rather like using the word ‘home’ to describe a house, a hotel, and a prison all at once.

Consider Acts 2.27, which in the King James reads: “Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell.” But the Greek word Peter quotes from the Psalms is Hades, not Gehenna. Peter is declaring that God would not abandon Jesus to the realm of the dead—the temporary holding place of departed souls. He is not saying Jesus entered the fires of eternal judgment.

This distinction matters immensely. To collapse these words into one English term is to blur what God has made clear.

The Apostles’ Creed and Historical Development

Many point to the Apostles’ Creed, which states that Christ “descended into hell,” as proof of this doctrine. But even here, history reveals something important: this phrase did not appear in the earliest versions of the Creed. When they first added the term, they translated it as “Hades” instead of “hell.” This translation emphasizes that Jesus did not suffer punishment; instead, He truly died and entered the realm of the dead.

The Creed intended to combat early heresies that denied Jesus’ full humanity. The Creed was saying, in effect: “He really died. His death was no illusion.” This statement is orthodox truth. But somewhere along the way, “descended into Hades” morphed in popular understanding into “descended into hell,” and theological precision—accurately understanding and articulating biblical truths—gave way to theological confusion.

Medieval Imagination and the “Harrowing of Hell”

If you’ve seen medieval art or passion plays, you’ve likely encountered dramatic depictions of Jesus storming the gates of hell, releasing captives, and binding Satan in chains. These images are vivid, memorable, and deeply rooted in Christian culture. There’s only one problem: none of it comes from Scripture.

The so-called “Harrowing of Hell” developed from apocryphal writings—texts that early Christians never accepted as inspired Scripture. These stories captured the imagination and found expression in art, literature, and liturgy throughout the medieval period. They tell a good story, but they are not God’s story.

Here we must be discerning. Just because something appears in Christian tradition does not mean it appears in Christian Scripture. We honor the past, yes, but we bow only to the authority of God’s revealed Word.

What About 1 Peter 3.19–20?

Some appeal to 1 Peter 3.19, where Peter writes that Christ “went and preached to the spirits in prison.” At first glance, this might seem to support the idea that Jesus descended into hell to preach. But look closer.

Peter never uses the word Gehenna here. He doesn’t say Jesus entered the place of eternal punishment. The “spirits in prison” likely refers to the fallen angels of Genesis 6 or to the souls of the disobedient from Noah’s day. And the “preaching” mentioned is not an offer of salvation—it’s a proclamation of victory.

Think of it: Would the triumphant, risen Christ journey to hell to offer redemption to those who had already rejected God? This concept contradicts everything Scripture teaches about the finality of death and judgment, which means that once a person dies, they face judgment (Hebrews 9.27). What Peter describes is not an evangelistic campaign in the underworld, but a declaration of Christ’s conquest over sin, death, and the powers of darkness.

Where Did Jesus Actually Go?

Scripture answers this question with beautiful simplicity:

  • His body was laid in the tomb (Matthew 27.59–60)
  • His spirit went to Hades—specifically to Paradise, the place of blessing for the righteous dead (Luke 23.43)
  • God did not abandon Him there (Acts 2.27, 31)
  • He rose victoriously on the third day (1 Corinthians 15.4)

Notice what Jesus promised the thief on the cross: “Today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23.43). Not hell. Not torment. Paradise—the blessed side of Hades, where the righteous awaited the resurrection.

Hades is the temporary realm of the dead, not the final hell. It is the waiting room, not the eternal chamber. Jesus never set foot in Gehenna, the place prepared for the devil and his angels (Matthew 25.41). To say otherwise is to add to Scripture what God never said.

Why This Matters

Why be so careful about these distinctions? Because truth matters. Because God’s Word deserves precision. Because the gospel itself is at stake.

If Jesus suffered the fires of hell as part of our redemption, then His sacrifice on the cross was incomplete. But Scripture declares that on the cross, Jesus cried, “It is finished” (John 19.30). The payment was complete. He accomplished His work. He descended into death, yes—but not into damnation. This reaffirms the fullness of our redemption and the security of our faith in Christ.

God’s sovereignty shines through this truth. He orchestrated redemption exactly as He planned—through the death, burial, and resurrection of His Son. Jesus conquered death by entering it and emerging victorious. He didn’t storm the gates of hell; He broke the chains of death itself.

Conclusion: Death Conquered, Not Hell Invaded

The belief that Jesus “went to hell” is born from translation confusion, historical development, medieval imagination, and misinterpreted Scripture. But when we let God’s Word speak for itself, the picture becomes clear: Jesus entered Hades—the realm of the dead—and triumphed over it.

He truly died. He truly descended into the domain of death. And He truly rose again, bringing life and immortality to light through the gospel (2 Timothy 1.10).

What practical difference does this make? Everything. Because Jesus conquered death—not hell—we can face our own mortality with confidence. “Because I live,” Jesus said, “you also will live” (John 14.19). That’s not just doctrine; that’s hope. That’s victory. That’s the gospel.

So let us speak carefully about these things. Let us honor Scripture’s precision. And let us marvel at the One who entered death’s dark valley and emerged with the keys of death and Hades in His victorious hand (Revelation 1.18). He didn’t invade hell—He abolished death. And because He lives, we shall live also.

The Comfort Of Complacency

Carl Pollard

Church attendance in western culture has shifted toward a consumer model: people want inspiration, community, and moral reinforcement without reciprocal obligation. 

Surveys from Barna and Pew consistently show that active involvement (serving in ministries, financial giving beyond easy amounts, discipleship) hovers below 20% in most congregations. So around 1 in 5 people in the church are actively involved and growing. 

This pattern reflects a deliberate preference for low-pressure environments. People gravitate toward churches that minimize demands on time, energy, and resources, creating a feedback loop where leaders, fearing decline, reduce expectations to retain attendance. The result is a complacent church that prioritizes comfort over transformation.

Scripture offers us helpful insights. In Matthew 25:14–30, the parable of the talents illustrates stewardship as non-negotiable. The servant who buries his talent is not condemned for incompetence but for inaction rooted in fear and misunderstanding of the master’s character (v. 25). In the same way, modern complacency often stems from a distorted view of grace, treating it as permission to coast instead of power to grow. 

Paul counters this in Ephesians 2:8–10: salvation is “not by works,” yet Christian’s are “created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand.” The text puts grace before works, but never severs them. Involvement is not additive to faith; it is its evidence!

James 2:14–17 provides more clarity: faith without action is “dead,” not deficient, but non-existent in functional terms. A body without movement is a corpse. Complacent churches foster spiritual necrosis: members gather, sing, and leave unchanged. The pressure to engage, whether through serving, giving, or accountability, is not manipulative; it is medicinal. 

Hebrews 10:24 uses the verb paroxysmon (“spur” or “provoke”), a term elsewhere negative (Acts 15:39), here used to describe mutual exhortation. Healthy tension is intrinsic to growth.

Psychologically, avoidance of pressure is (what people smarter than me call) “loss-aversion bias.” This is where the perceived cost of involvement outweighs anticipated benefits.

Theologically, it reveals a failure to grasp the church’s identity. The church is not a service provider but a body (1 Corinthians 12:12–27), where each member’s function is non-optional. Passive behavior disrupts organic unity and destroys our ability to live out the mission Jesus left us (Matt. 28:18-20). 

This article isn’t about putting down the church, but a call to disciplined obedience. Leaders must model and teach expectation without compulsion; members must embrace responsibility without resentment. The goal is not busyness but faithfulness. Complacency, however lovingly cloaked, dishonors the cost of redemption and delays the kingdom’s advance. Grace equips; it does not excuse. 

The question isn’t whether pressure belongs in church, but whether the church belongs to Christ.

Why The Restoration?

Gary Pollard

As I’ve mentioned in a previous article, a well-intentioned man named Rufinus made significant changes to Origen’s writings when he translated them from Greek into Latin. Unfortunately, the overwhelming majority of what has survived to this day is Rufinus’s Latin text. My goal in this series is to restore the text as it would’ve been read in Greek — before Rufinus’s sometimes radical changes. 

So how does anyone restore a text if most of it’s in Latin? Thankfully, sections of these books have survived in the original Greek — especially Book III. This allows us to read the Latin and Greek texts side-by-side. Rufinus was also kind enough to write a preface for Book III, explaining further why he made the changes he made. 

To be abundantly clear, I am not qualified to do serious textual criticism. While I’m interested in Greek and have studied it for some years now, I’m not nearly competent enough to do this unaided. For several weeks, I painstakingly worked on the text of Book I using the resources at my disposal (most helpfully Dr. Begley’s dissertation containing a critical apparatus for De Principiis). I compared this to what survives of Peri Archon, as well as Philocalia. 

Then I used ChatGPT 4 to read every scrap of Greek text written by or quoting Origen himself. From this, ChatGPT was able to make a profile of the way Origen thought and spoke, and what he believed. It would flag texts that appeared to be redacted based on several criteria — e.g. words, traditions, teachings, or beliefs that weren’t seen prior to the 4th century, and the use of Latinisms. I check these flagged texts myself, especially when they may be controversial. AI fatigue is real, and I’m no AI apologist. However, the fact that some are now far more “intelligent” than any one human is well-established. This should keep my own bias out of the text as much as possible, and has provided a very helpful critical apparatus. 

To demonstrate how needed this textual restoration is, I will share Rufinus’s Preface to Book III and a single verse of the same book translated from both Latin and Greek. I highly recommend reading an interlinear translation of Book III on your own so you can see the more egregious errors for yourself.

Preface of Rufinus, Book III

Reader, remember me when you pray so we may both emulate the spirit. I translated the last two books on The Principles, not only because you asked me to, but also because of the pressure you put on me during the days of Lent. Since you, my devout brother Macarius, were living closer to me and had more free time back then, I worked even harder on the books. It has taken me longer to translate these last two books, partially because you now live far away and haven’t had to hurry me on. 

Don’t forget what I warned you about in my first preface — some people will get angry if I don’t speak evil of Origen. I’m sure you’ve already experienced this yourself! But if those daemons who compel people to slander are so enraged by Origen’s first two books (in which he has not yet fully revealed their secrets), what do you think they’ll do about these last two? In these books, Origen exposes all of the dark and subtle ways that they take over the hearts of men, and deceive weak, unstable souls. 

You should expect to see many things thrown into confusion, seditions stirred up, and plenty of fuss raised. You should expect the person who makes these texts available to be summoned for condemnation; what do you expect when someone tries to dispel daemonic darkness with the light of the Gospel? 

This isn’t a big deal for anyone more concerned with being trained in divine learning, though. We just have to maintain the integrity of the rule of Catholic faith while we do so. I’ll remind you that I’m still observing the same principles I did in the former two books: 

  1. I won’t translate anything that appears to contradicts Origen’s other teachings. 
  2. I won’t translate anything that contradicts our own beliefs. I’ll skip those as if they were forged by others. 

If he talks about intelligent beings (a subject that does not threaten the essence of our faith), I’ll keep those texts for the sake of discussion and of adding to our knowledge. If I have to refute some heretical opinions, I’ll mention them. If he repeats the heresy in another book, I’ll just omit it. 

If anyone wants to read these passages purely to expand their knowledge (and not to raise stupid objections), it would be best to have someone qualified explain it to them. Who would use a grammar expert to explain the finer aspects of poetry or comedy? Who tries to learn things spoken by God or the “heavenly virtues” without a master interpreter? It’s too easy to make mistakes and fall into some pagan error or heresy. 

It is typical human nature to harshly and ignorantly condemn things that are obscure and difficult, rather than to try to understand them fully through great effort and study. 

Book III, 3 from Greek: 

Human beings, unlike other animals, not only have imagination but also reason. Reason helps us judge our thoughts and mental images—it rejects some and approves others—so that we can act according to sound judgment. Because reason naturally helps us recognize virtue and vice, we can choose good over evil. When we choose to live rightly, we deserve praise; when we choose the opposite, we deserve blame.

Still, we shouldn’t ignore the fact that different creatures have these abilities in varying degrees. For example, hunting dogs and warhorses have instincts that come surprisingly close to reason in some ways. Now, when something outside of us triggers a thought, feeling, or impulse, that’s not something we can always control. But what is within our control is how we respond—whether we decide to use that experience in a good way or a bad one. This power of choice belongs only to our reason, which can guide us either toward what is virtuous and fitting or away from it.

Book III, 3 from Latin: 

Human beings, unlike other animals, not only have natural instincts and impulses but also possess reason to a much greater degree. This reason allows us to judge our natural urges—rejecting some and approving others—so that our actions can be guided toward a good and honorable life. Because reason enables us to tell the difference between right and wrong and to choose what we recognize as good, we deserve praise when we make good choices and blame when we choose what is evil or shameful.

It’s worth noting, though, that some animals seem to act with a kind of order or intelligence—like hunting dogs or warhorses—which might look like reason. But this isn’t truly rational thought; it’s an instinct they’ve been naturally given for their particular roles.

As we’ve already said, since human nature is rational, certain things can happen to us from the outside—through sight, hearing, or our other senses—that stir us toward good or bad thoughts and actions. Because these things come from outside ourselves, we can’t control their arrival. But we can control how we respond to them. It’s the job of our reason—our inner judgment—to decide how to use these experiences. Guided by reason, we can direct our natural impulses toward good actions or, if we choose poorly, toward the opposite.

The I AM

Dale Pollard

God speaks of Himself as simply “I Am.” This is one powerful statement depicts His infinite presence and His existence through every age. What does it mean to know Him? How do you know if you do? To know of Jesus is very different than knowing Him. 

John is one of those books in the New Testament that will help us to become better aquatinted with the Christ. It’s the last of the gospels that paints a vivid picture of who He was and is on a deeper level than even the three previous gospels. He’s the Bread of life, Light of the world, the Gate, Good Shepherd, Resurrection and Life, the Truth, and the Vine. All of these titles found within the book teach us a little more about the Savior of the world. 

There are seven “I Am” statements in John referring to Jesus and three hundred throughout the entire Bible. They begin in Genesis and end in Revelation, and in many books in-between. You just can’t read very far without discovering something very profound about its Writer. He’s eternal. God’s desired response to this is simply for us to believe, respond, and live with our minds and hearts prepared to live with Him. When Jesus describes Himself as the “I Am” it makes the religious leaders want to kill Him (John 8). 

To know Jesus, to really know Him, is something that many people have not fully understood. Even as Jesus walked among us mortals and we witnessed His miraculous power there were still several that didn’t realize what it meant to follow Him (Luke 9:57-62). While it’s true that everyone is made in the image of God, few reflect the Father’s image. 

Those that know Jesus introduce others to Him. With the knowledge that we are imperfect, let’s not forget that we also have the ability to have a relationship with Him. I am flawed and I am weak, but the Great I Am is interested in who I am. By the grace of God, we are called His children. He is the bread of life that sustains us, the light that guides us, the gate we’ll walk through, and the Truth that will save us. It’s not how great I am, but how great the Great I Am is. 

He Survived Four Shipwrecks, Then He Died

Neal Pollard

Many stories have been written about Violet Jessop, a ship stewardess who survived the sinking of the Titanic and the Brittanic. But fewer know about someone who survived twice as many sinkings, including the two survived by Jessop. Arthur Priest, a stoker for the steam-powered ships, survived two major collisions and four shipwrecks. The Asturias was in a collision on its maiden voyage in 1908 and the Olympic survived a collision in 1911. Then, Priest survived the Titanic in 1912, the Alcantra in 1916, the Brittanic in 1916, and the Donegal in 1917. Two of the ships were luxury liners, one was a hospital ship, and the other was an armed merchant cruiser. For the latter, Priest was awarded the Mercantile Marine Ribbon by the British for service in World War I. He sustained a serious head injury on the Donegal, returning to his home in Southampton, England. 

As remarkable as all these survival stories are, Arthur Priest died of pneumonia with his wife Anna by his side in Southampton. He was 50 years old. There is very little information about what he did with a life spared four times from the depths of the sea. We don’t know if he was a religious man, much less a Christian. We don’t know much beyond the fact that he was unsinkable at sea.

Reading about Priest, I thought about a different kind of priest (cf. 1 Pet. 2:5,9) the New Testament tells us about. He wrote, “three times I was shipwrecked, a night and a day I have spent in the deep” (2 Cor. 11:25). We know what this man did with his life, which was cut short in service to an infinitely greater King than the one who was on the throne in Arthur’s lifetime. He was in a war of far more lasting consequence (2 Cor. 10:4-5), and he was decorated for his service in a far more dramatic way (2 Tim. 4:6-8).

The likelihood that you and I will survive even one shipwreck is small. But, like Priest and Paul, we will ultimately die unless the Lord returns first. Even if our lives are not filled with dramatic tales of rescue and unlikely survival, we can leave a legacy of faith and fervor in service to our King (1 Tim. 6:15). We can share Paul’s victory, crowned with the victorious on that last day (Rev. 2:10). 

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.

Dealing With Sin Aggressively

Sin won’t quit on its own. It has to be killed. The Bible doesn’t offer a gentle plan; it hands us a sword. Cut off the hand. Gouge out the eye. Put the old nature to death. This is love for the One who died so we could live free.

Carl Pollard

I was listening to a preacher on Facebook the other day and he said something that made me think. He said, “stop treating your sin like a pet, it’s time for us to deal aggressively with our sin!” I started looking for all the places in scripture that this concept is described. 

Jesus is clear: “If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell” (Matthew 5:29,). Sin isn’t a bad habit to manage, it’s a deadly growth that has to be cut out. The Bible never tells us to make peace with it. It tells us to kill it. That’s the normal Christian life.

Paul is clear: “So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me” (Romans 7:17). That word “dwells” means sin has set up camp inside us. It’s not a visitor; it’s a squatter that wrecks everything it touches. The only answer is eviction, forceful, immediate, and final. The Spirit is the one who hands us the tools.

Colossians 3:5 is clear: “Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.” “Put to death” is a command to act now, not later. It’s not about slow improvement; it’s execution. Lust doesn’t get a warning, it gets killed. Greed doesn’t get an excuse, it gets the cross. Every morning we take sin’s corpse out to the curb.

Jesus continues: “And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away” (Matthew 5:30). He’s using strong language on purpose. If something in your life, your phone, your habits, your friendships, keeps tripping you up, get rid of it. No debate. The word “causes you to sin” is the same one used for setting a trap. Whatever sets the trap has to go.

Romans 8:13 shows how we win: “For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” Notice it’s “by the Spirit.” We don’t grit our teeth and try harder. We pray, read Scripture, fast, and stay accountable, then the Spirit does the heavy lifting. This is daily, ongoing war, not a one-time fix.

Sin won’t quit on its own. It has to be killed. The Bible doesn’t offer a gentle plan; it hands us a sword. Cut off the hand. Gouge out the eye. Put the old nature to death. This is love for the One who died so we could live free. Fighting sin hard is just what grace looks like in real life. Start today: name the sin, grab the weapon, trust the Spirit. Eternity is too close for anything less.

What Is A Blessed Day?

Dale Pollard

 After the six days of creation God rested (Gen. 2.2). The word rest literally meant to stop or, according to Strongs, “desist from exertion” (H7673). Once He finished His work, God does something else that carries a mysterious significance— God blessed a day. So what does that actually mean? Looking at our passage (Gen. 2.3) it says that He does two things and the two verbs that are used are important to help us grasp what’s being said. God blessed the seventh day and made it holy. 

 Blessed (barak): 

 In ancient Hebrew thought, to bless something was to fill it with life, fruitfulness, or some kind of ongoing benefit. When God blesses living creatures (both man and beast), they multiply (Gen. 1.22, 28, 9.1). When He blesses the seventh day, He bestows on time itself some kind of divine favor. It was a day that gives spiritual renewal rather than physical productivity. Maybe all the details of that won’t be fully understood or appreciated on this side of eternity. 

 Made holy (qadash): 

 To “make holy” meant to set apart. This is also the first time in the Bible that anything is called holy — not a place or an object, but a day. The early Hebrew understanding saw the seventh day as more than a simple pause in labor. God gave them this and He made it a healthy spiritual function of creation. 

 What’s so significant about all that? This is God blending the spiritual and physical elements of His creation together. It wasn’t like a model train that a boy puts together just for fun. This was proof that existence would be more than a complex physical shell. God “created” an entire day, in part, so we could reflect on that.

Making The Most Of Difficult Circumstances

Perhaps you are facing a difficult circumstance. It should not be trivialized or minimized. It might be painful and protracted. But it should neither be the source of defeat or an excuse to stop serving the Lord.

Neal Pollard

In Acts 28:16, Luke tells us that when Paul came to Rome he was allowed to stay by himself (in a house he paid for himself, according to verse 30). However, he was guarded by a Roman soldier. Paul again refers to this in Philippians 1:13, 17, and your version probably has either the word “imprisonment” or “bonds.” Many ancient historians tells us that the Romans would chain the prisoner and soldier together in a practice known as “Custodia Militaris.” Polybius, a Roman historian writing more than a 100 years before the first century, wrote, “They kept them bound with a chain to a soldier who was responsible for their custody” (Histories 1.88.8). Seneca and Josephus also record this practice.

Can you imagine what a daily problem this would have been? Consider the invasion of privacy, the unpredictable disposition of your companion, and the potential for scorn and humiliation? Yet, day after day, Paul would be chained to a soldier. The chains were 18-24 inches long (the British Museum has archaeological finds from the period), and the guards were rotated every four to six hours (Vegetius 3.8). Maybe the last guard was a nice guy, but the next was not so much. It could not have been an enjoyable task for the soldier either, and he might be inclined to take that out on the prisoner. 

But, how did Paul respond? Paul implies what he did as one guard came and another went. “my imprisonment in the cause of Christ has become well known throughout the whole praetorian guard and to everyone else” (Phil. 1:13). These praetorian guards were elite Roman soldiers, also known as the imperial guard. This might further explain how the gospel reached members of Caesar’s household (Phil. 4:22). Imprisoned for preaching Jesus and shackled to worldly, hardened men, Paul taught the gospel. He learned to be content in every circumstance (Phil. 4:11), but that didn’t mean idle or self-absorbed.

Perhaps you are facing a difficult circumstance. It should not be trivialized or minimized. It might be painful and protracted. But it should neither be the source of defeat or an excuse to stop serving the Lord. Paul had a captive audience, literally bound to hear the good news from a man enduring what most would deem a bad fate. He transformed his difficulty into opportunity. May we have the will and wisdom to do the same! 

What Is Truth? When We Know But Won’t Act

It wasn’t a philosophical question. It was the exhausted sigh of a man who had compromised so often that truth had become meaningless. He had traded integrity for security so many times that he no longer recognized the currency.

Brent Pollard

The Man Who Couldn’t Afford Truth

Pontius Pilate governed Judea the way most of us manage our lives—by compromise. A mid-level Roman official ruling a resentful province, he had learned that survival meant bending to political winds. Truth, in his world, was whatever kept Caesar pleased and mobs quiet.

Then Truth walked into his courtroom.

“Are You the King of the Jews?” Pilate asked. Jesus answered, “For this I was born—to bear witness to the truth.”

Pilate’s response exposes every human heart: “What is truth?”

It wasn’t a philosophical question. It was the exhausted sigh of a man who had compromised so often that truth had become meaningless. He had traded integrity for security so many times that he no longer recognized the currency.

The Coward Who Saw Clearly

Here’s what haunts Pilate’s story: he knew.

Three times he declared Jesus innocent. His wife warned him in a dream. His conscience screamed. Yet when the priests threatened—”If you release this man, you are no friend of Caesar”—Pilate’s courage evaporated. He chose career over conscience, comfort over conviction.

Then came his famous gesture: washing his hands before the crowd, announcing, “I am innocent of this man’s blood.”

One cannot wash away guilt if one will not confess. Water cleanses skin, not souls. Pilate’s basin was as empty as his heart.

The Sovereignty in the Surrender

But here’s where God’s purposes shine through human failure: Pilate couldn’t escape his role in redemption. When he ordered the sign above Jesus’ cross—”Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”—the priests demanded he change it. Pilate refused: “What I have written, I have written.”

It was petty revenge, yes—one last jab at those who had cornered him. But beyond Pilate’s passive-aggressive defiance, God was writing truth in permanent ink. The placard that Pilate meant as mockery became prophecy. The “criminal” was indeed the King—not just of Jews, but of Pilate, Rome, and all creation.

God doesn’t need our righteousness to accomplish His purposes. Even our failures serve His sovereign plan.

The Mirror We’d Rather Not See

Pilate is us.

We know what’s right but fear what it costs. We recognize truth but won’t stand for it when the crowd turns hostile. We wash our hands of responsibility while blood stains our souls.

You and I don’t drift into heaven. Neutrality before Christ is impossible—by doing nothing, Pilate crucified Him. Every day we face the same choice: Will we crown Christ as Lord, or dismiss Him when it’s inconvenient?

What Must We Do?

Stop washing your hands. Moral evasion solves nothing. Confession begins where excuses end.

Count the cost, then pay it. Following Christ may cost you approval, comfort, or even advancement. But what profit is there in gaining the world while losing your soul?

Remember who stands before you. Jesus didn’t stand before Pilate—Pilate stood before Jesus. We don’t judge truth; truth judges us.

Act while conscience speaks. Every ignored conviction hardens the heart. Pilate’s tragedy began long before that Friday morning—it started the first time he silenced what he knew was right.

The Final Word

History remembers Pilate not for his power but for his weakness. His name endures not as a hero, but as the coward who asked, “What is truth?” while Truth stood before him.

You and I won’t face Jesus in a Roman court. But we face Him daily in every choice between comfort and courage, between what people think and what God commands.

Pilate’s question remains: What is truth?

Jesus answers: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

The question isn’t whether truth exists. The question is whether we’ll bow to it—or spend our lives washing our hands.

God’s People Care

Neal Pollard

  • For Their Community. Patriotic, civic-minded, generous, helpful, involved, and connected, God’s people strive to be good citizens and neighbors. Acts 2:47a; 5:13b).
  • For Visitors. Smiling, greeting, welcoming, inviting, and connecting, God’s people know that many visitors to church events and assemblies are future brothers and sisters and they want to do what they can to help facilitate that objective. Colossians 4:6; Philippians 2:15; Matthew 5:13-16.
  • For The Lost. Co-workers, family, friends, fellow-students, acquaintances, neighbors, and strangers, God’s people see the people in their lives as fellow-strugglers whose souls will spend eternity somewhere and they want it to be in heaven with them. Daniel 12:3; James 5:19-20; Proverbs 11:30
  • For Each Other. Empathetic, tuned-in, concerned, familiar, intuitive, and loving, God’s people rise to occasions of crisis and love in ordinary moments because they are intimately connected to each other by precious blood and like precious faith. 1 Thessalonians 5:11; Romans 12:9-10.
  • For Children. Wise, visionary, foresightful, nurturing, and of tender affection, God’s people hear their Savior’s admonition to imitate, encourage, and develop these impressionable, dear ones. Matthew 18:3ff; 19:14
  • For The Elderly. Concerned, attentive, prayerful, and connected, God’s people know it’s wise and important not to neglect and forget the part of our population that grows more lonely, isolated, frail, and needy with each passing day and they let them know they see and care. James 1:27; Proverbs 16:31; Proverbs 23:22
  • For Their Families. Responsible, judicious, properly-prioritizing, and consistent, God’s people realize that no advancement or success in the world is worth sacrificing the souls they most cherish and can most influence. Matthew 6:33; Ephesians 6:1-4; Proverbs 22:6; Deuteronomy 6:6-7
  • For Their Souls. Vigilant, conscientious, self-aware, and introspective, God’s people know all too well their humanity, weakness, and inconsistencies but grow more in love with God and heaven and less in love with this world every day. 1 John 2:15-17; Matthew 22:37-40.
  • For God’s Will. Whether gospel meetings, retreats, ladies days, daily Bible reading, workshops, lectureships, special or regular Bible classes, or worship assemblies, God’s people so often show up hungry for the bread of life and the spiritual meat, thirsty for the milk of the word, and considering all of it sweeter than honey. Hebrews 10:24-25; John 6:35; Hebrews 5:14; 1 Peter 2:2; Psalm 19:10

Aren’t there so many reasons to love God’s people?

A couple of pictures (credit Russell Simpson) from Saturday night’s Trunk or Treat. God’s people at Cumberland Trace really shined!

When Jude Quoted Books God Didn’t Write

Twenty-five verses. That’s all Jude needed to expose false teachers, rally believers, and deliver one of Scripture’s mightiest doxologies. Yet within this compact letter lie two startling citations—neither from Moses, the prophets, nor the Psalms, but from Jewish apocryphal writings. Why would an inspired writer quote uninspired sources?

Brent Pollard

Twenty-five verses. That’s all Jude needed to expose false teachers, rally believers, and deliver one of Scripture’s mightiest doxologies. Yet within this compact letter lie two startling citations—neither from Moses, the prophets, nor the Psalms, but from Jewish apocryphal writings. Why would an inspired writer quote uninspired sources?

The Arrogance That Mocks What It Cannot See

Jude writes his general epistle with a sense of urgency. False teachers have misused grace to justify immoral behavior and show disrespect for authority. By verse 8, their pride has become demonic, and they “speak evil of dignitaries,” which most likely refers to angelic beings. Jude does not intend to promote the worship of angels; instead, he warns against hubris. These false teachers behaved as if they had authority over realms they did not have, and that is the pride Jude exposes. Therefore, these men slander realities beyond their understanding.

To expose such folly, Jude reaches for an unlikely illustration.

When Even Angels Know Their Limits

Jewish tradition, preserved in the Assumption of Moses, tells of Michael the archangel disputing with Satan over Moses’ body. The devil claimed ownership—perhaps because Moses had killed an Egyptian, perhaps because Satan styled himself lord of the earth.

Michael’s response? He refused to pronounce judgment on his own authority. Though heaven’s chief warrior, he simply said, “The Lord rebuke you.”

Here is Jude’s blade: If Michael—commander of celestial armies—dared not revile even Satan, what business have mortals mocking spiritual powers they neither respect nor understand?

True strength bows before God’s sovereignty. Pride pretends to authority it does not possess.

The Prophet Who Saw Judgment Coming

Jude then quotes 1 Enoch, a Jewish apocalyptic text known to his audience:

“Behold, the Lord comes with ten thousands of His holy ones, to execute judgment upon all, and to convict all who are ungodly of all their ungodly deeds.”

This inclusion is no blanket endorsement of Enoch’s book any more than Paul’s citations of pagan poets made them Scripture. Instead, the Spirit guided Jude to extract one true statement—a warning echoing throughout divine revelation—and press it into service for eternal purposes.

God can take a fragment of human tradition and forge it into revealed truth without sanctifying its source.

How Inspiration Actually Works

Jude’s method reveals three vital principles:

1. Authority lies in God’s selection, not the source’s pedigree.

The Spirit determines what enters Scripture. Truth remains truth wherever it appears, but only God’s breath makes it authoritative. Jude’s quotes became inspired not because of their origin, but because God chose them.

2. God meets people where they live.

Jude’s Jewish Christian readers knew these traditions. Using familiar examples, he illustrated the truth vividly. We do the same, quoting, say, Shakespeare or Einstein—not to canonize them, but to communicate clearly.

3. The message matters infinitely more than the medium.

Both stories serve one purpose: to contrast human arrogance with divine authority and to warn that God judges all rebellion.

Three Applications for Your Life Today

First, guard your tongue when speaking of spiritual realities.

If Michael, who stands before God’s throne, refused to speak presumptuously, how much more should we? Reverence isn’t weakness; it’s wisdom. Before you dismiss spiritual truths or mock what you don’t understand, remember who you’re dealing with.

Second, rest in the certainty of God’s judgment.

False teachers may flourish now. Arrogance may strut across platforms. But Enoch’s prophecy stands: God will judge every ungodly deed. Your job isn’t to play God. It’s to trust Him.

Third, quote wisely, but verify everything.

You’ll find truth scattered across literature, philosophy, and even secular observation. Quote it when it serves God’s truth. But never confuse a helpful quote with Scripture’s authority. Test everything against the Word (1 Thessalonians 5:21). All other lights are dim candles held up to Scripture’s blazing sun.

The Weight of a Short Letter

Don’t mistake brevity for shallowness. In twenty-five verses, Jude wields ancient tradition, angelic authority, and divine judgment to demolish pride and call the church back to truth.

Michael’s humility rebukes the arrogant. Enoch’s prophecy warns the rebellious. Together they sound Jude’s central note: “Contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all delivered to the saints.”

In a world drowning in opinions, that call has never been more urgent.

God has spoken. The question is whether we’ll listen with the humility of angels or the arrogance of fools.

The difference is eternal.

Even when he quotes from outside Scripture, Jude points us back to Scripture’s heart—the unchanging authority of God and the sure destiny of all who defy it.

Crucifying The Flesh

Being a follower of Christ demands constant self-examination. Each day, we wake up asking, “What do I need to work on today?” One persistent battle we face is the flesh, our sinful nature that pulls us off track, like that wobbly Walmart shopping cart wheel that requires constant correction.

Carl Pollard

Being a follower of Christ demands constant self-examination. Each day, we wake up asking, “What do I need to work on today?” One persistent battle we face is the flesh, our sinful nature that pulls us off track, like that wobbly Walmart shopping cart wheel that requires constant correction. Galatians 5:24 says, “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.” But what does it mean to crucify the flesh, and how do we live it out in a world brimming with temptation?

In Galatians 5, Paul describes the flesh not as our physical bodies but as our sinful desires that rebel against God. Galatians 5:17 explains, “The flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; they are contrary to one another.” The flesh urges us to lash out in anger, indulge in lust, gossip, or hold grudges. Paul lists its acts: sexual immorality, hatred, jealousy, rage, selfish ambition (Galatians 5:19-21). These are symptoms of a heart not fully surrendered to God. The flesh promises satisfaction but delivers emptiness, chaining us to sin. Recognizing this enemy within is the first step to living for Christ.

Crucifixion, in Roman times, was a brutal, final punishment. Paul’s use of this term signals a decisive, no-turning-back commitment to put sinful desires to death. Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily” (Luke 9:23). This daily choice means saying no to pride, bitterness, or greed and yes to humility, forgiveness, and generosity.

The key to crucifying the flesh lies in belonging to Christ. When we surrender to Him, we’re united in His death and resurrection (Romans 6:5-6). His victory over sin becomes ours, and His Spirit empowers us to resist temptation. This is why Paul confidently states we “have crucified” the flesh, a present reality for Christians. Living like we belong to Jesus means choosing the Spirit daily, allowing it to produce love, joy, peace, and other fruits (Galatians 5:22-23) in our lives.

To crucify the flesh, start with confession and repentance, naming and turning from sin (1 John 1:9). Rely on the Spirit through prayer and God’s Word. Choose daily obedience, saying no to temptation and yes to love. Crucifying the flesh isn’t restriction, it’s liberation, freeing us to run the race God has set before us. What needs to be nailed to the cross today? Lay it at Jesus’ feet and live the life He promised.

The Heart Of True Righteousness

Halloween is around the corner! A time for dressing up and filling the pockets of Big Dentist. It’s definitely one of those holidays that’s more fun when you’ve got young kids that, as the parent, you get to decide what will make your child look the funniest. 

Dale Pollard

Halloween is around the corner! A time for dressing up and filling the pockets of Big Dentist. It’s definitely one of those holidays that’s more fun when you’ve got young kids that, as the parent, you get to decide what will make your child look the funniest. 

Jesus spends a good deal of time explaining to his followers about the dangers of wearing masks when it comes to righteousness, though. He preaches against practicing religious acts to gain human approval rather than God’s. He defines hypocrisy not by what one does, but by the motivation behind it (6.1-18). 

Here’s a walkthrough of the first half of the chapter. 

  • Giving to the needy (6:1–4): Jesus condemns giving with a flourish of “trumpets,” a metaphor for publicizing one’s good deeds for praise. Instead, he instructs believers to give in secret, so that only God, “who sees what is done in secret, will reward you”. The reward hypocrites receive—the praise of people—is temporary and fleeting, unlike God’s eternal reward.
  • Praying to God (6:5–15): Just like giving is about God, prayer is meant for God’s ears, not human ones. Jesus criticizes those who pray publicly on street corners to be seen as pious. He teaches believers to pray privately in a room with the door shut to avoid hypocrisy.
    • The Lord’s Prayer: Jesus provides a model (a template) for prayer that focuses on…

1.     Honoring God

2.     Submitting to his will (before personal needs)

3.     Humility through a reliance on God for daily bread

4.     The necessity of forgiving others to be forgiven.

  • Fasting with purpose (6:16–18): Fasting was a common spiritual discipline in Jesus’ day, but some hypocrites would put on a gloomy face to make sure others noticed their “holiness.” Jesus teaches to fast without outward display, anointing their head and washing their face as they normally would. This practice, when done for God, will be rewarded by Him. 

Our relationship with God must be one that survives the privacy of our homes. It can’t be like a three piece suit that’s put on when the occasion calls for it.

When Obedience Condemns

Noah did not speak his condemnation; he delivered it with a hammer.

Brent Pollard

“By this he condemned the world…” (Hebrews 11.7 ESV)

Noah did not speak his condemnation; he delivered it with a hammer.

The Paradox of Faithful Action

God warned Noah of what had never happened. No flood had come, maybe not even rain, but Noah believed. Here lies the essence of faith: trusting God’s word over visible evidence. Faith always looks foolish to those who measure reality by sight alone.

But Noah did more than believe—he obeyed. He built when building made no sense. For perhaps a century, every timber he shaped was a sermon, every nail he drove was a declaration: God has spoken, judgment is coming, salvation requires obedience.

Faith and obedience cannot be separated. You cannot say you trust God while ignoring what He commands. Abel offered, Abraham went, Moses led, and Noah built. Faith provides the motive; obedience supplies the evidence.

The Silent Sermon

How did Noah condemn the world? Although he was a preacher of righteousness (2 Peter 2.25), he didn’t have to preach fire and brimstone. Simply living differently —a lifestyle that caused him to gain God’s favor (Genesis 6.8) —was enough.

His obedience proved a devastating truth: men can do what God asks. Every person who watched Noah work and turned away chose their fate. They had a living demonstration that obedience was possible. Their rejection was therefore inexcusable.

Light does not condemn through accusation but through illumination (Ephesians 5.11-14). It simply shines, and darkness is exposed. Noah’s righteousness revealed his generation’s corruption. His faith validated God’s warnings and justified God’s judgment.

People often find holy living difficult to accept because it eliminates all justifications for their actions.

The Standard That Stands

The principle persists. Our world still measures itself by its own broken standards. It expresses surprise that God’s children refuse to join in sinful deeds (1 Peter 4.4). It ridicules divine authority (Jude 1.8) and promotes independence from God.

But when believers walk in obedience—when they love enemies, forgive debts, remain pure, speak truth, sacrifice comfort—they become living witnesses that God’s way works (Matthew 5.13-16). The faithful need not condemn with words. Their transformed lives speak louder (see 1 Corinthians 4.20).

Your obedience declares to the world: “It can be done. God’s commands are not impossible. Your disobedience is a choice.”

Obedience isn’t about pride; it’s about sharing a testimony. It’s not about judging others from a position of superiority, but rather facing the reality of the situation head-on.

The Reward of Response

Noah “became an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith.” His obedience saved his household—not because works earn salvation, but because faith receives grace on God’s terms.

We can relate to this as well. When we obey the gospel by believing, repenting, confessing Christ, and being baptized, we do not earn salvation through our actions; instead, we accept the gift. The very act that saves us sets us apart. By faith we walk differently, and by walking differently, we expose the world’s rebellion.

God’s sovereignty ordains both the gift and the response. He saves through obedient faith because it pleases Him to do so.

The Echo Continues

Noah’s hammer still sounds across the ages. Each blow proclaimed that faith builds while others mock, that obedience acts while others doubt.

Every soul who moves “with godly fear” becomes an unwitting judge—not through malice but through faithful contrast. The world may scoff, but God saves through obedient faith.

Your life is either a sermon or a silence. Which will it be?

We are still constructing the ark. The rain continues to pour down. And God saves those who believe in Him and choose to obey.

A Kingdom Opportunist

October hits, and life kicks into overdrive. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, it’s a relentless lineup! Family visits, work parties, and the creeping numbers on the scale keep you on your toes and in a food coma. In all this, it’s easy to let Bible study and prayer slip. But if you’re too busy for God, you’re too busy. So how do you balance life with spiritual growth?

Carl Pollard

October hits, and life kicks into overdrive. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, it’s a relentless lineup! Family visits, work parties, and the creeping numbers on the scale keep you on your toes and in a food coma. In all this, it’s easy to let Bible study and prayer slip. But if you’re too busy for God, you’re too busy. So how do you balance life with spiritual growth? Be a Kingdom Opportunist,  someone who spots and acts on God-given moments to advance His work, not for personal gain, but for His glory.

A Kingdom Opportunist sees openings in daily life and responds with faith and courage. Scripture shows us people who lived this way, always ready to act when God opened a door. 

Paul didn’t let circumstances stop him. In Acts 16:25-34, he and Silas are beaten and chained in a Philippian jail. Instead of giving up, they’re praying and singing hymns at midnight. When an earthquake opens the prison doors, they don’t run; they stay and share the gospel with the jailer, leading him to Christ. In Acts 17, Paul’s in Athens, surrounded by idols. He spots an altar to an “unknown God” and uses it to preach the gospel. Synagogue, marketplace, or jail cell, Paul turned every moment toward Christ. He teaches us to see opportunities in tough spots: a coworker’s question, a neighbor’s grief, a delayed schedule. These aren’t interruptions, they’re opportunities! 

In Acts 16:13-15, Lydia, a businesswoman in Philippi, hears Paul’s message by the river. God opens her heart, and she responds immediately, following Jesus and opening her home to Paul’s team. Her hospitality makes her house a base for the early church. Lydia didn’t need a stage or a title, she used her home, influence, and resources to serve God. What do you have? A spare hour? A skill? A kitchen table? Like Lydia, you can use what’s in your hand. 

Barnabas, the “son of encouragement,” saw what others missed. In Acts 9:26-27, when the disciples feared Saul (later Paul) because of his past, Barnabas took a chance, vouching for him and bringing him into the church. In Acts 11:25-26, he tracked down Paul in Tarsus, kickstarting his ministry. He also gave John Mark a second shot after a failure (Acts 15:36-39), helping him grow into a key servant. Barnabas invested in people, seeing God’s work where others saw problems. Who needs your encouragement? A struggling teen, a new Christian, a friend who messed up? A kind word or second chance can shift someone’s path for God’s glory.

Scripture is filled with examples. Esther risked her life to save her people, seeing her role as queen as God’s timing (Esther 4:16). The Shunammite woman gave Elisha a room, creating space for God’s work (2 Kings 4:8-10). Andrew brought his brother Peter to Jesus in a simple act that changed everything (John 1:40-42). Each saw God’s hand and acted, not for themselves, but for His purpose.

Unlike worldly opportunists chasing self-interest, Kingdom Opportunists are driven by God’s glory. They’re prayerful, discerning, and bold, ready to move when God opens a door. To live this way, pray daily for eyes to see opportunities. Study Scripture to be ready to share your faith. Use what you have: time, talents, or a listening ear. Step into hard situations with trust, like Paul. Encourage others, like Barnabas. And stay humble, pointing to Jesus.

God’s still opening doors every day, at work, home, or in your community. My prayer is that we’ll see these moments, respond with faith, and act with courage. As we do, God’s Kingdom grows, one opportunity at a time. You’re equipped for this moment. 

Be a Kingdom Opportunist!

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book 2, Ch. 1.3-4)

Even though the whole world is divided into many different kinds of functions and offices, we can’t think of it as being in a state of chaos. Just as our single human body has many different components but is held together by one soul, I believe the entire world should be viewed as a vast, living being, held together and sustained by the power and reason of God—as though by one universal soul.

Gary Pollard

(Continuing modernizing translation of this work by one of the early church fathers)

Even though the whole world is divided into many different kinds of functions and offices, we can’t think of it as being in a state of chaos. Just as our single human body has many different components but is held together by one soul, I believe the entire world should be viewed as a vast, living being, held together and sustained by the power and reason of God—as though by one universal soul.

This, I think, is what scripture means when the prophet says, “I am everywhere in the heavens and on the earth. This message is from the lord,” and again, “The sky is my throne, and the earth my footstool.” The same truth is expressed by our Rescuer, who tells us not to swear “by the sky, because it’s God’s throne, or by the earth, because it’s his footstool.” And Paul (the apostle) told the Athenians, “In him we live, and move, and have our being.” 

How do we live, move, and exist in God, unless his power both permeates and sustains the entire creation? How else is the sky called his “throne” and the earth his “footstool”, unless his power and presence fill everything both in the sky and on earth, as Jesus himself said?

So it’s beyond all doubt that God, the Father of all, permeates and sustains the entire world through the full expression of his power. And since we have already seen that the actions and choices of rational beings produced the world’s diversity, we should consider the possibility that this world will have an end resembling its beginning. Just like creation was initially characterized by all kinds of variety, its end will be, too. That same diversity (which seems to have reappeared in this last age) will provide the foundation for the diversity of the new world that follows.

If what we have said so far is true, our next step is to consider bodily existence itself, since the many different life forms in the world cannot exist without bodies. It is evident from experience that material nature allows for change and transformation, and it can take on many different forms. For example, wood can become fire, fire can become smoke, smoke can turn into air, and oil can be transformed into fire. The same process occurs with food. Whether for humans or animals, it’s changed into the substance of whatever kind of body consumes it.

We also observe that water can change into earth or air, and air into fire, or the reverse. Though it would not be difficult to explain these transformations in detail, it will be enough here simply to mention them, since our purpose is to discuss the nature of “matter” itself. By “matter,” we mean the stuff that all things are made of—that which exists as the substratum receiving qualities and forms, and by which bodies themselves exist. 

We identify four such basic qualities: heat, cold, dryness, and moisture. When these four are combined and implanted into ὕλη (hulee) — matter itself — different kinds of bodies are produced. Matter, by its own nature, exists without any of these qualities, but is never actually observed without them. This is because it always has some quality that gives it form.

Because of this, I can’t understand how so many intelligent people believe that matter — which is so vast and is the tool and servant of the Creator, ready to take on whatever forms and properties he wishes — could be “uncreated”. Some say it existed eternally with God (i.e., he didn’t create it), but was simply there by chance. Yet these same men accuse others of godlessness if they deny God’s providence or the world’s obvious evidence of design—while they themselves fall into the same bad thinking by saying that matter is just as eternal as God!

If, for the sake of argument, we say that matter did not exist, as they claim — that God had to have something to create with in the first place — then God would’ve been doing absolutely nothing because he had nothing to work with. They imagine that matter appeared by accident and gave him the raw materials he needed for creation. They say that this substance was conveniently made of just the right stuff for our massive, ordered world, and was even composed of divine intelligence itself!

This line of thinking seems crazy. It’s for people who don’t understand the power and intelligence of God’s uncreated existence. Let me clarify the issue: even if we imagine that matter once didn’t exist, and that God created everything from nothing, why would we think that he couldn’t create matter exactly the way he did— totally indistinguishable from his own power and wisdom? Obviously, if God made matter it would be perfectly built to take on the forms and purposes he intended. So, wouldn’t it be kind of godless to call matter “uncreated” if everything is made by God out of this stuff? 

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.

Origen’s “On First Principles” (Book 2, Ch. 1.1-2)

Gary Pollard

(Continuing modernizing translation of this work by one of the early church fathers)

Up to this point, we’ve been talking about the earth and how it’s arranged. Now it makes sense to look more closely at the earth itself—its beginning, its end, the ways God has guided it between those stages, and even the mysteries some say took place before creation or will take place after the end.

The first clear point is that the world, in all its many changes and conditions, is made up of more than just intelligent and transcendent beings and many different species of each. It also includes animals—wild and tame, birds, and creatures of the sea. It includes places as well: the “sky” or “skies”1, the earth, the waters, and the air between them, which some call aether. From the earth come all plants and living things born in it.

Since the world shows so much variety, even among intelligent beings themselves, we must ask: what is the reason for this? What caused the existence of such a diverse world—especially if, as we said earlier, everything will one day be restored to its original state?

The most reasonable answer is this: this variety of lifeforms in the world reflects the variety of movements and choices made by those who fell away from their primal unity and harmony, which was the state God created them in. When they were driven out of that original goodness, and pulled in different directions by desires and motives, they transformed the simple, undivided goodness of their nature into many different kinds of minds and ways of life. 

God, with the unlimited skill of his intelligence, transforms and restores all things, no matter how they were made, toward a useful purpose and the common good. In this way, he brings creatures of very different dispositions back into a shared labor and goal. Even though their motives may differ, they all contribute to the fullness and perfection of one world. It is one power that holds the world’s diversity together and directs every movement toward a single function, preventing this vast creation from breaking apart through the conflicts of intelligences.

For this reason, we believe that God the Father, desiring the rescue of all his creatures through the mysterious plan of his Word and Wisdom, has ordered all things so that every spirit—whether soul or rational being, whatever form it takes—is not forced by compulsion into any path against its will. To do so would remove the gift of free will itself and alter the very nature of the created being. Instead, God has wisely adapted their differing purposes to fit the harmony of the world: some need help, others are able to give it, and others create struggles and contests for those trying to grow in moral goodness. This way, diligence is tested, victories are made more certain, and the ranks of honor are secured through the challenges of the struggle.

1 d est coeli, vel coelorum