Feeling “God-Like” In Your Gut

Neal Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

The Rebuke Michael Would Not Speak

Brent Pollard

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

Rejecting Authority and Reviling Angelic Majesties

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

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

Michael the Archangel and the Limits of Delegated Authority

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grace That Governs the Tongue in an Age of Railing

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

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

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

Take Your Place Beneath the Throne

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

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

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

The Danger Of Normal

Carl Pollard

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

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

That’s why the broad road is so popular.

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

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

Which trail naturally feels like the right one?

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

Jesus says they can.

Popularity is a terrible test for truth.

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

Truth has never depended on a majority vote.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus tells us where it ends.

The broad road leads to destruction.

The narrow road leads to life.

How To Make The Best Of A Bad Situation

Dale Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

The Observations About Self-Righteousness

Neal Pollard

The word “self-righteous” does not appear in scripture.  The dictionary defines the word as “filled with a conviction of being morally superior to others; smugly virtuous.”  That attitude is certainly found and discussed in scripture.  Jesus told a parable “to some who  trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and viewed others with contempt” (Luke 18:9; the NIV has “confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else”).  In Luke 16, Jesus tells the Pharisees, “You are those who justify yourselves in the sight of men” (15).  Much of what Jesus says in Matthew 23 is devoted to confronting the scribes and Pharisees’ feelings of moral superiority.

There are some common traits among the self-righteous.  It is not a question of one’s sincerity or conviction, but of how one behaves under the guise of either.  None of us should want to fall into the category of the self-righteous.

First, the self-righteous often see others’ failings, but not their own.  Such a one could fill a book with what the other one is doing wrong, but spend very little time in meaningful self-examination (cf. 2 Cor. 13:5).  Self-righteousness can display itself in constant criticism or hypercriticism of others.  It is easier to pick apart the actions of others than to be self-aware.  Yet, reminding ourselves that all sin will add humility to the way we handle their perceived faults and flaws.

Also, self-righteousness is not true righteousness.  There is a big difference.  True righteousness can be classified with goodness and truth (Eph. 5:9), but self-righteousness is neither good nor true.  True righteousness is coupled with peace and joy, but self-righteousness works against both (Rom. 14:17).  True righteousness can be mentioned in the same breath with self-control (Acts 24:25), but self-righteousness is often devoid of it.  That is the irony of self-righteousness.  It really is not righteous at all.

Further, self-righteousness is often  a product of pride.  It is often a byproduct of one elevating his or her judgments, opinions, and feelings to the level of law.  One’s own preference can become what all should do.  One’s conviction can become the best or the only way.  If we are not careful, conviction and preference can become self-righteousness.

God wants His people righteous.  There is too much worldliness and embracing of sin among even children of God.  This is unrighteousness and no one should aspire to that.  Yet, let us be careful to place our trust in God’s rather than our own righteousness.

The Blood That Is Never Anemic

Brent Pollard

A hematologist once quipped that the bone marrow is like a brick-making factory. The bricks are blood cells. He told me that my body made poor bricks.

Hence, anemia has been an issue I have dealt with for a long time. I have sometimes joked that if “the life is in the blood,” then there have been periods when I must have been partially dead.

Obviously, that is only a joke. When Moses wrote, “the life of the flesh is in the blood” (Leviticus 17.11), he was not saying that someone with a low hemoglobin count possesses only part of a life. Nor was he giving Israel an advanced lesson in modern hematology.

His point concerned sacrifice.

The Life of the Flesh Is in the Blood

God continued: “I have given it to you on the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood by reason of the life that makes atonement” (Leviticus 17.11).

Blood represented a life surrendered.

Anyone in the ancient world could observe the connection between blood and death. An animal whose blood poured out soon ceased to breathe. Long before anyone understood hemoglobin, oxygen transport, or circulation, people understood the more basic truth that blood was intimately connected with life.

But God took that observable reality and gave it theological significance. He did not describe biology; He assigned meaning.

The blood placed upon Israel’s altar said, in effect, that a life has been given.

That explains why blood was treated with such seriousness under the Law. Israel was forbidden to consume it because “the blood is the life” (Deuteronomy 12.23). It belonged to God, who had appointed it for the altar. Hebrews compresses the arrangement into a clause: “without shedding of blood there is no forgiveness” (Hebrews 9.22). Sin has never been cheap.

Sacrificial Anemia: Bulls and Goats Fell Short

Yet there was a problem.

An animal’s blood represented a life, but it could never equal the human life stained by sin. Hebrews states the limitation plainly: “For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Hebrews 10.4).

Those sacrifices were not mistakes. God commanded them. They taught Israel holiness, guilt, substitution, death, and atonement. But they were shadows pointing beyond themselves.

A bull could die. A goat could bleed. A lamb could be offered. But none of them could provide the final answer to human sin.

They were, in a sense, sacrificially deficient.

That brings us back to anemia.

When a person is anemic, the blood is deficient in something the body needs. Perhaps too few healthy red blood cells, perhaps too little hemoglobin. Whatever the cause, the blood cannot do its work, and the person may grow weak, tired, dizzy, or short of breath.

Israel’s altar carried a comparable deficiency. Every priest stood “offering time after time the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins” (Hebrews 10.11). Standing. Always standing. The tabernacle held no chair because the work was never finished.

Human blood can be deficient. The blood of Jesus Christ never is.

Blood and Water at Calvary

John brings us to Calvary in his nineteenth chapter. Because the Sabbath was approaching, the soldiers intended to hasten death by breaking the legs of the crucified men. They broke the legs of the two beside Jesus.

“But coming to Jesus, when they saw that He was already dead, they did not break His legs” (John 19.33).

Then John records the detail we cannot forget: “One of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and immediately blood and water came out” (John 19.34).

Notice the order.

The soldier did not take Jesus’ life. Jesus was already dead. Earlier, He had said of His life, “No one has taken it away from Me, but I lay it down on My own initiative” (John 10.18). Rome furnished the spear. Rome did not furnish the sacrifice.

The spear demonstrated what had already happened. Jesus had truly given His life, and Calvary fulfilled the principle God had taught Israel through centuries of sacrifice.

The blood represented life. And this time, the life offered was not that of a bull, goat, or lamb. It was the life of the Son of God.

Jesus anticipated this when He took the cup and said, “This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for forgiveness of sins” (Matthew 26.28). Peter described Christians as redeemed “with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ” (1 Peter 1.19). Weigh the adjective. Precious. Paul wrote that in Him “we have redemption through His blood” (Ephesians 1.7). Hebrews says Christ entered the holy place “through His own blood” and obtained “eternal redemption” (Hebrews 9.12).

The Blood of Christ Never Runs Low

Moses’ sacrifices continued to be offered because their work was never complete. Jesus did not need to repeat His sacrifice. His offering was sufficient, and He “sat down at the right hand of God” (Hebrews 10.12).

Once was enough.

Yet here is the wonderful paradox: the sacrifice happened once, but its cleansing power continues. John writes: “If we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1.7).

John writes to Christians—people who have already come to Christ. Yet they still need the cleansing His blood provides.

Christ’s blood does not become less effective with the passing of time. It does not weaken after cleansing a certain number of sins. It does not become depleted because millions have appealed to its power. It does not cleanse yesterday’s sins only to prove insufficient for today’s.

There is no shortage in the supply God has provided. Stop rationing your repentance as though the fountain might run dry.

Walking in the Light

John does not teach that Christians may deliberately live in darkness while presuming upon that sacrifice. The promise belongs to those who “walk in the Light.” Neither does it mean sinless perfection; John immediately acknowledges that Christians still sin. “If we confess our sins,” he writes, God “is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1.9).

So walk. Confess quickly. Forgive the brother whose debt costs far less than yours.

The Christian lives, therefore, not in terror that Christ’s sacrifice may someday prove insufficient, but in grateful dependence upon the blood that never loses its sufficiency.

My bone marrow may occasionally make poor bricks. My blood may sometimes fail to carry what my body needs as efficiently as it should. I can joke that there have been times when, if life is in the blood, I must have been only partially alive.

But there is nothing deficient about the blood upon which my spiritual life depends.

The blood of bulls and goats could point toward forgiveness but could never finally provide it. The blood of Jesus does what theirs could not. It cleanses. It redeems. It reconciles.

And for those who continue walking in the light, it continues to cleanse “from all sin.”

Human blood may become anemic. The blood of Christ never will.

Can I Lose My Salvation

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Assumption Of Moses

Dale Pollard

The Assumption of Moses

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

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

That raises an obvious question:

Why was Satan arguing with Michael over Moses’ body?

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

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

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

The Book of Moses’ Assumption

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

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

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

Why Did Satan Want the Body?

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

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

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

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

“The Lord rebuke you.”

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

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

And perhaps the strangest part is what Scripture leaves out.

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

Two Faces

Neal Pollard

Recently, I witnessed something I have seen before but that never gets easier to watch.  A person who on several occasions has had something negative and disparaging to say about another person when he was not around was speaking to him, using sweet, flattering and complimentary words.  The same person has used similar words in speaking to me.  It left me cold, certain that I cannot trust the kind words this person directs my way.

By definition, one is two-faced who is “marked by deliberate deceptiveness especially by pretending one set of feelings and acting under the influence of another” (Princeton University, Wordnet).  One etymology source says the first recorded use of “two face” was in 1619, though nothing more is said of that record (www.etymonline.com).  But, many scholars see the origin of the concept in Roman mythology and the god Janus for whom the month January is named.  He is said, as a symbol of change, to see into the past with one face and into the future with another face.  His faces pointed in the opposite direction (en.academic.ru).  Apparently, the concept morphed from looking two directions to showing two sets of feelings, being duplicitous, deceitful, and hypocritical.

When you do a New Testament word study, the word most closely akin to “two faced” is “hypocrisy.”  In fact, the word itself is simply a transliteration (writing or printing out a letter or word using the closest corresponding letters of a different alphabet or language) of the Greek word.  The original word first was theatrical language meaning “playacting.”  Thus, the verb form of the word, found in Luke 20:20, is used to describe how the scribes and high priests pretended to be sincere in order to trap Jesus.

Such a practice is dishonest, for it makes the subject of the hypocrisy think you feel or believe one way when in reality you do not (cf. Mt. 23:28).  Such a practice is harmful to influence, because in showing others your “second face” you reveal yourself as not genuine, trustworthy, or honorable (cf. Gal. 2:13).  Such a practice is sinful and, thus spiritual darkness.  Peter says to “put it aside” (1 Pet. 2:1).

Let us be careful that we do not confuse attempted tact and diplomacy with dishonesty, evil influence, and sin.  Let us keep our ethics aboveboard and our integrity intact.  Let us have one face, the same face, for everyone wherever we are and to whomever we speak.

Turn The Other Cheek

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The World’s Most Venomous Snake?

Neal Pollard

As one who could not be more afraid of snakes, I was thrilled when one of my sons told me what was the deadliest snake in the world.  The Inland Taipan, native to Australia, is the most venomous land snake on earth, and it has the most toxic venom known to exist.  Yet, it is a shy snake, not known to be aggressive toward humans.  Far more people die from cobras, rattlesnakes, and mambas than reclusive, though deadly, snakes like the Taipan, the boomslang, and the tiger snake.

Mike O’Shea, author of Venemous Snakes of the World, was interviewed by Princeton University Press, and in the course of the conversation he mentioned many of the fables and myths about treating poisonous snake bites that actually do more harm than good.  He listed tourniquets, razor-cuts, venom extractors, and herbal, magical, or traditional treatments, and all of us have heard of some or all of these suggested “cures,” as wrong ways to treat such a bite.  Then he said what was most effective: keep the bite area and the victim still, keep the victim awake and as reassured as possible, keep pressure on neurotoxic bites, keep the airways clear, and perform CPR as needed.  Obviously, in all cases, the biggest, best thing to do is get the victim medical help and get a description of the offender if unable to kill and bring it with you and the victim to the hospital.

The Bible calls the devil “the serpent of old” (Rev. 12:9; 20:2).  It also draws some correlation between the serpent and the devil in 2 Corinthians 11:3, 13-14 (deceiving and craftiness).  Most feel certain that the devil was involved in the Eden events in which a serpent beguiled Eve.  Likening the work and effects of the devil to that of a deadly snake is not a stretch.

If a species of snake enjoyed in physical terms the success the devil enjoys in spiritual terms, every health and emergency services agency in every nation around the world would rise up today and make its eradication their top priority.  They would not rest until this creature was fought and defeated.  To say they would be diligent would be to grossly understate the matter.

Yet, the devil is inserting his toxic poison into the hearts of willing victims every second of time.  If only the worst he could do was kill the body.  He is ruining souls (cf. 2 Tim. 2:25-26), which impacts eternity.

We should avoid places where he is likely to be (1 The. 5:22).  We should take precautions (1 Pet. 5:8).  We should know his habits and methods (2 Cor. 2:11).  We should fight him (1 Pet. 5:9; Js. 4:8; Eph. 6:11).

If we are “bitten” by him, we need to seek help, being reassured that Christ has the power to heal us if we properly treat the “wound.”  As scary as the devil can seem, God is more powerful.  We have the help of others at our disposal, but more importantly we have God’s help and His cure is 100% successful if applied.

Wounds Without a Cause

Brent Pollard

Solomon buries a strange phrase inside a warning about strong drink, and most readers hurry past it.

“Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has contentions? Who has complaining? Who has wounds without cause? Who has redness of eyes? Those who linger long over wine…” (Proverbs 23.29–30 NASB95)

Wounds without cause. The phrase arrests me.

Recently, I found myself thinking about those words after developing a painful hematoma. There had been no fall, no bump into a table, no memorable injury. It simply appeared. As someone taking blood thinners, I know there is a medical explanation, even if I cannot point to a particular moment and say, “That is when it happened.” Even so, Solomon’s phrase echoed in my mind for days. Somewhere in my body, a small vessel failed. I never felt it. I only saw the aftermath.

That experience sent me back to the proverb, and the proverb sent me somewhere I did not expect to go.

What Proverbs 23.29–30 Actually Describes

Solomon was not writing about medication or fragile capillaries. He was sketching a portrait of the drunkard who wakes bruised, battered, and unable to account for his injuries. The wounds are not genuinely causeless. The man cannot trace them, because the wine that battered him also stole his judgment, his awareness, and his memory.

Read the end of the chapter, and you hear him speak for himself: “They struck me, but I did not become ill; They beat me, but I did not know it. When shall I awake? I will seek another drink” (Proverbs 23.35). There is the horror of it. Sin anesthetizes the very faculty that would identify sin as the culprit. It leaves scars and then erases the fingerprints.

Every generation invents new anesthetics. The substance changes; the mechanism does not. Whatever dulls conscience will eventually dull the ability to name what has gone wrong. That is why the wise man begs us to stay awake.

When Suffering Has No Explanation: Job and the Man Born Blind

But the phrase carries a second freight, and Scripture will not let us set it down.

Sometimes life wounds us in ways we cannot explain, and no moral arithmetic will balance the ledger.

Job’s friends tried the arithmetic. They reasoned that extraordinary suffering must indicate extraordinary sin, and they pressed that logic on a shattered man for chapter after chapter. God’s verdict on their theology was withering: “My wrath is kindled against you and against your two friends, because you have not spoken of Me what is right as My servant Job has” (Job 42.7). They defended God with arguments God rejected. Zeal did not excuse them.

Centuries later, the disciples made the same mistake with a beggar’s face before them. “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he would be born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was neither that this man sinned, nor his parents; but it was so that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9.2–3). He refused the question as framed. He did not assign blame; He gave sight.

Jesus dismantled the same reasoning again when men brought Him news of Galileans slaughtered at their sacrifices and eighteen crushed beneath a falling tower. Were they worse offenders than everyone else in Jerusalem? “I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13.5). Tragedy is not a scoreboard. Tragedy is a summons.

Why Christians Must Not Invent Reasons for Pain

Here is the practical discipline this demands of us.

Christians should be careful not to invent explanations where God has revealed none. A diagnosis is not necessarily divine punishment. An accident is not always the consequence of poor decisions. A chronic illness is not proof of weak faith. We live in a fallen creation where bodies weaken, diseases develop, blood vessels rupture, bones break, and hearts fail. These realities are not always traceable to a specific personal failing.

When we manufacture a reason for another believer’s affliction, we are not comforting them. We are prosecuting them. And we do it, usually, because their unexplained pain unsettles our tidy assumptions about how God runs the world. Silence feels like weakness, so we fill it with explanation.

Note what Job’s friends did right before they did everything wrong. They sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, “and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his pain was very great” (Job 2.13). That week was ministry. The speeches were not.

Sit down. Bring food. Say less. Weep with those who weep (Romans 12.15). You are not required to explain the wound to bind it.

A Groaning Creation and the Redemption of the Body

That does not mean God is absent.

Paul teaches that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now, and that we ourselves groan within, “waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body” (Romans 8.22–23). Every unexplained ache, every mysterious diagnosis, every wound that seems to appear from nowhere testifies that this world is not the one God originally intended and not the one He will finally leave us in. Groaning is not faithlessness. Groaning is the sound of hope straining forward.

So Paul can look straight at a wasting body and call the affliction momentary and light, because he weighs it against an eternal weight of glory and fixes his eyes on what cannot be seen (2 Corinthians 4.16–18). That is not denial. That is accurate accounting. He also carried a thorn he never had explained to him, only answered: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12.9). God gave him Himself instead of information, and Paul counted it the better bargain.

We are pilgrims desiring a better country (Hebrews 11.16). Pilgrims do not demand that the road make sense. They keep walking because they trust the One who mapped it.

Trusting the Great Physician Until Every Wound Is Healed

One day the Great Physician will complete His work. There will be no unexplained bruises, mysterious illnesses, failing lungs, aching joints, or wounded hearts. “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain” (Revelation 21.4). Every effect of sin and death will finally be undone, and the undoing will be thorough.

Until then, entrust your soul to a faithful Creator in doing what is right (1 Peter 4.19). Not in understanding what is right. In doing it. Worship on Sunday with a body that hurts. Serve someone whose suffering makes less sense than yours. Refuse bitterness the way you would refuse a drink that promised to make you forget.

Some wounds will still seem to come without a cause. They may puzzle us, inconvenience us, or frighten us. They are never outside the knowledge of our heavenly Father.

We may not always understand our wounds, but we can always trust the One who does.

Why Doesn’t God Just Kill The Devil?

Carl Pollard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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. 

When God Says, “Grow Up”

Neal Pollard

It does not matter how long a church has existed at a location. Nor does it matter how long an individual Christian has been a baptized believer. It is still possible for a Christian or a congregation to be deemed immature or in need of growing up. To a congregation that had been established for some time, Paul writes, “And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ” (Ephesians 4:11-15). 

This is a rich passage of Scripture, from which we can draw so much application. However, notice the specific thing Paul writes about achieving spiritual maturity. The way to avoid being spiritual infants, according to the context, is three-fold.

No longer be tossed here and there by waves. The imagery is of instability and lacking an anchor. Know what you stand for and stand there! Follow God’s Word and reject anything else. Because many don’t know God’s Word, they accept every new teaching that comes along without studying it through and examining it critically.

No longer be carried about. The imagery is of being easily led and duped. The old circus mogul, P.T. Barnum, liked to put it, “There’s a sucker born every minute!” Paul says no longer be carried about “by winds.” There were others claiming to have the truth and who denied Jesus. No longer be carried about “by tricks.” There were others trying to back up their message with false proofs and perhaps claims that were meant to trick those not grounded in the truth. No longer be carried about “by schemes.” There were strategies and ploys attempted to try and truth people from God’s grace. 

Speak the truth in love. Paul says that if the Ephesians believed what he was saying about Christ, the blessings in Christ, and the blessings of the church of Christ, they would be a grown up church. Notice that by not only rejecting all other ways but by doing what they can to teach and live the right message, they were going to be a full-grown, mature church. The right message produces the right kind of response in the right kind of hearts. 

Ephesians 4:16 says that the whole body causes the growth of the body. This growth relies on good joints and individual working parts. In other words, we’ve got to work together and realize our interdependency,. A few people cannot do the work of the whole body. Imagine how you’d go through life in only three or four of the parts of your body functioned. You might be able to chew, blink, and smell, but what if that was it? There’s not a part of your body that is not important and necessary. Try walking without a big toe or wearing glasses without an ear lobe.

The church can’t grow like it should if you and I aren’t doing our part. Paul has spent three and a half chapters talking about how important the church is. Then he writes these words. It is Christ’s body, it was in God’s mind from eternity, and it is how God is glorified. He wants each congregation, and every individual member of it, to do what it takes to grow up! 

Never Assume Someone Is Beyond Saving

Brent Pollard

Never assume someone is beyond saving.

The Deadliest Single-Aircraft Accident in History

On August 12, 1985, on the eve of Japan’s Obon holiday—when millions travel to their hometowns to honor departed loved ones—524 people, many of them families, boarded Japan Airlines Flight 123 from Tokyo’s Haneda Airport bound for Osaka. Seven years earlier, an improper structural repair to the aircraft’s rear pressure bulkhead had unknowingly planted the seeds of disaster. After more than 12,000 pressurization cycles, the weakened bulkhead failed just 12 minutes into the flight at an altitude of 24,000 feet. The aircraft’s vertical stabilizer tore away, all four hydraulic systems were destroyed, and the pilots had almost no means of controlling the airplane.

For the next 32 minutes, the crew fought to keep Flight 123 airborne as it oscillated in a violent Dutch roll while repeatedly climbing and diving in what aviators call a phugoid cycle. The aircraft lurched through the sky in a terrifying, three-dimensional motion that made it nearly impossible to maintain a steady heading. At 6:56 PM, it slammed into Mount Osutaka in Gunma Prefecture. Only four people survived. To this day, Flight 123 remains the deadliest single-aircraft accident in aviation history.

At first glance, this sounds like nothing more than another aviation disaster. It wasn’t. It is also a story about what can happen when people conclude there is no one left to rescue.

A Tragedy That Hits Close to Home

This tragedy also strikes an oddly personal note for me. Mount Osutaka lies in Gunma Prefecture, the birthplace of my late Aunt Maki Mitchell (née Iishi). Her hometown is only about sixty-six miles from the crash site. Since she married a U.S. Air Force airman stationed in Japan, other parts of this story resonate personally as well.

When Rescuers Concluded No One Was Left to Rescue

Survivors of the Flight 123 crash were seated in the back, as the front absorbed most of the impact with the mountain, acting as a crumple zone that reduced G-forces at the rear. One survivor was off-duty stewardess Yumi Ochiai, who noted that there were more survivors initially. Some believe that additional lives were lost because the JSDF helicopter reported seeing no signs of life from the air, reducing the perceived urgency of the rescue. The principal rescue force spent the night approximately thirty-nine miles from the crash site and did not reach the wreckage until daylight.

The tragedy worsened as the U.S. Air Force, based in Western Tokyo’s Tama Area, monitored the doomed flight on radar. Unaware of the damage, they offered their 11,000-foot runway for a landing. After the crash, a C-130 located the wreckage in 20 minutes and, at 7:17 PM, informed Japanese authorities and Yokota, triggering the deployment of a rescue helicopter. By 8:30 PM, a Marine helicopter arrived to lower two pararescuemen. The crew searched for a drop site with searchlights. At 9:15 PM, Japanese authorities claimed full jurisdiction over the incident, and at 9:20 PM, U.S. personnel were ordered to leave despite their willingness to assist.

Spiritually, we can make the same mistake by looking at someone’s life and concluding there is no one left to rescue.

Waving in the Darkness

Meanwhile, Yumi Ochiai lay on the ground. She had heard the helicopters and could see the probing lights. Yet she was too pained to yell loudly, so she waved her hand, hoping to attract their attention. Other survivors called out to the lights in the sky above, all in vain. The helicopter hovered over the canopy, and the engine noise kept U.S. personnel from hearing their cries. Personally, I cannot imagine what the poor souls lying on the mountain below must have thought when they were suddenly left in darkness again.

Imagine waving with what little strength you have left while those sent to help cannot see you. There are people around us who are doing the spiritual equivalent every day.

As Long as There Is Breath, There Is Hope

Eight-year-old survivor Mikiko Yoshizaki and her mother, 34-year-old Hiroko Yoshizaki, took turns yelling at each other to stay awake during the 14 hours they waited for rescuers. Sadly, Hiroko’s husband and two other children seated beside them had perished in the crash. Twelve-year-old Keiko Kawakami spoke to her father and sister in the wreckage before they finally grew cold and quiet in the early morning.

As long as there was breath in their lungs, there was hope. As long as a sinner is alive, there is hope.

The Great Physician Never Gives Up on a Soul

Jesus never assumed anyone was beyond saving. He sought tax collectors, prostitutes, Samaritans, thieves, and even the persecutor Saul of Tarsus. While others saw hopeless cases, our Lord saw souls worth rescuing. “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19.10).

The heartbreaking part is that this may not have been inevitable. A Japanese physician whose identity remained anonymous said that dozens of victims did not suffer fatal internal trauma from the impact itself. They died from hypovolemic shock (severe blood loss) and extreme hypothermia caused by the cold, damp mountain air at 5,135 feet. He said that if rescuers had arrived only ten hours earlier, they could have saved more lives.

Let us not end with the thoughts of one physician, but the teachings of the Great Physician.

Seek the Lost and Leave the Results to God

Every congregation has someone others have quietly given up on.

Every family has someone everyone assumes will never change.

Every community has people whose lives appear beyond repair.

Yet as long as there is breath, there is hope. As long as a sinner lives, the gospel still has work to do.

Christians have never been commissioned to decide who is salvageable. We have been commanded to seek the lost (Luke 15.4ff), proclaim the gospel (Matthew 28.19–20), and leave the results to God (1 Corinthians 3.6; Isaiah 55.11).

Never assume someone is beyond saving.

Many Will Say to Me, “Lord, Lord”

Carl Pollard

Few passages in Scripture are as sobering as Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:21–23. Throughout the Bible we find warnings like, “Depart from Me,” “The door was shut,” and “You fool! This night your soul is required of you.” But perhaps the most unsettling is Jesus describing people who fully expected to enter paradise only to hear, “I never knew you; depart from Me.”

These weren’t atheists or people who openly rejected Christ. They called Him “Lord.” They believed they belonged to Him and even pointed to a lifetime of religious accomplishments. Their confidence was real, but it was misplaced.

Jesus spoke these words at the conclusion of the Sermon on the Mount. After teaching about anger, purity, prayer, generosity, worry, and judgment, He ends with a series of contrasts: two gates, two roads, two trees, two builders, and ultimately two kinds of disciples. His message is that appearances can be deceiving. The road to destruction can look remarkably religious.

From Matthew 7:21-23 we learn first that saying the right words isn’t enough. Jesus says, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven.” Calling Jesus “Lord” means recognizing His authority. But many want the comfort of calling Him Savior without submitting to Him as Master. As Jesus asked in Luke 6:46, “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?” Genuine faith is demonstrated when we surrender our will to His, especially when obedience is difficult.

Second, religious activity isn’t enough. Those standing before Jesus had an impressive spiritual résumé. They prophesied, cast out demons, and performed mighty works in His name. Today, someone might point to years of church attendance, teaching Bible classes, preaching sermons, or serving in leadership. None of those things are wrong, but none of them save us. Religion becomes dangerous when our confidence rests in what we’ve done rather than in Christ. It’s possible to preach about prayer without praying or teach God’s Word while neglecting to obey it! As a preacher, this scripture is a needed reminder to me. 

Jesus’ statement, “I never knew you,” reveals the heart of the issue. Scripture often uses the word “know” to describe a relationship. These people knew about Jesus, but they never truly belonged to Him. Outward religion had hidden lives that were never genuinely surrendered to God’s will. On the Day of Judgment, appearances will disappear, and only reality will remain.

Jesus tells us what separates the true disciple from the false one, “The one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.” Obedience doesn’t earn salvation, but it reveals genuine faith. Christians aren’t perfect. We stumble, repent, and depend daily on God’s grace. The difference is between a heart that struggles to obey and a heart that refuses to obey.

This truth is reinforced immediately afterward in the parable of the wise and foolish builders. Both heard Jesus’ words, but only one obeyed them. Before the storm, both houses looked secure. Only when the storm came was the foundation revealed. Judgment Day will expose what our confidence has truly been built upon.

Matthew 7 challenges every one of us to examine the foundation of our assurance. Our confidence can’t rest on feelings, family heritage, years in the church, or even a list of good works. It has got to rest on Christ alone as we walk in obedient faith. The question Jesus leaves us with is simple but essential. Does my life match my confession? If I call Him Lord, does He truly have authority over my life? Genuine assurance doesn’t belong to the ones with the most impressive résumé, but to those who trust Christ, submit to His rule, and faithfully follow Him.

Sharing The Filling Fulness Of Christ

Gary Pollard

Some phrases in the Bible are simple to read, but very difficult to comprehend. In this article, I’d like to walk through a process together in an attempt to make sense of a difficult phrase (thanks, Paul). One of those is in Ephesians 1.23: “…the fullness of him who fills all in all.” This is a description of Jesus, specifically as it relates to His being the head of the church. But what does that phrase mean? 

I will not pretend to have the answer, but I would like to make a couple of suggestions. Firstly, “fullness” appears to describe the church. In my limited knowledge of Greek, it seems to be grammatically tied to “body.” The church – His body – is His fullness. Both are nominative, both are the subject of the sentence. 

Secondly, Jesus fills all in all. It’s that last phrase that’s so hard for me to comprehend. What does it mean, that “He fills all in all?” Based on the fact that some form of “fullness” is used three times in a single phrase, it appears to have reference to his nature. He is not confined by time or space and is present everywhere. 

If the church is His fullness (the word is possessive in Greek), and He is omnipresent (or, creation is full of Him), then the church must be extremely important. Again, I am not a scholar, I may be mistaken. 

I would, though, like to attempt to make application from this difficult phrase. If the church is, ideally, representative of the very nature of Christ, are we living up to it? Is our passion for the lost like His was/is? Is our love for each other as strong as His is for the church? Do we treat the church as if it were the body of Christ (because it is)? Do we keep in mind, as we interact with each other, that we all answer to Him? Are we trying to mold culture to His image, or are we being molded to culture? 

We really have to think about this one to try to make sense of it. Comprehending this phrase is anything but easy (at least for me!). But the church – which is one distinct unit, not a series of denominations – is supposed to represent Jesus. Our values, our demeanor, our goals, our mission, our attitudes, our behavior, and our purpose should scream to others, “We are not of this world.” If these do not, we are not representing Jesus. No one will do this perfectly, but the standard is high. 

When we begin to understand this phrase a little more, it shifts from being hard to understand to being hard to hear. We have a huge responsibility, but we also have a global family to support us. The standard is high, but our Head is also our Savior. We’re not just Christians to be good people, we’re Christians to show the world who Jesus is.

Flaming Sword Of Eden

Dale Pollard

Remember that flaming sword mentioned in Genesis 3.24? 

“He drove out the man, and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim and a flaming sword that turned every way to guard the way to the tree of life.”

The Bible frequently makes use of analogies to describe supernatural realities. By examining the precise grammar and vocabulary of Genesis 3:24, it’s discovered that the “sword” may not be describing a literal sword, but perhaps a self-animated phenomenon. Of sorts. It had light, energy, and some serious spatial awareness. Let’s dive into the passage a little deeper.

Here is what the text suggests this barrier really looked like.

A Living Sword

The word translated as “placed” or “stationed” is shakan. It literally means “to tabernacle” or “to permanently dwell.” This is the exact root word used later for the Shekinah—the physical cloud of God’s presence. The phraseology indicates that the barrier was not a temporary guard shift– it was a permanent install. Based on this, we can assume that it was stationed there until the flood eventually destroyed the garden. 

Flames

The word “flaming” is lahat, and it appears unique in this form. While it primarily means a brilliant blaze or flash, its root delivers one succulent secondary connotation of being wrapped or operating as an “enchantment.” This sounds more like a lit barrier of light that obscured the path to the Tree of Life. It would have also been physically threatening any fools attempting to intrude.

Dual Security

In Hebrew grammar, the “flaming sword” is not explicitly held by the cherubim. The sentence describes them as two distinct entities. God stationed the cherubim AND the flaming sword. They operated in tandem as some kind of dual defense team.

What “Turned in Every Direction” Means

Maybe the most interesting phrase– “turned every way” or “turned in every direction” sounds like an angel waving a weapon back and forth. However, the Hebrew word used is hammithappeket.

Grammatically, it depicts continuous and automatic action. The sword was not being actively brandished by the angel; it was turning itself!

The root verb means to overturn, transform, or overthrow—the same word used to describe the total upside-down destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Visually, this describes an erratic, whirling, twisting fire in constant motion. It formed an impenetrable, 360-degree sphere. No matter which angles a guy tried to approach from, the barrier automatically and instantly adjusted to block the path. At the very least, we know God’s secured the garden how we’d expect Him to. Perfectly. 

The High Cost of Careless Endorsement

Brent Pollard

You’ve received a notice from a page you interacted with through videos. The owner invites you to accept a badge showing you’re a top fan. A simple tap awards a badge for others to see—endorsing a page, personality, or content. It takes less time than a sneeze, but the algorithm remembers and quietly influences your feed. Paul understood quick endorsements early on: “Do not lay hands upon anyone too hastily and thereby share responsibility for the sins of others; keep yourself free from sin” (1 Timothy 5.22).

What the Laying On of Hands Meant in the New Testament Church

Timothy worked diligently in Ephesus under apostolic guidance to organize the congregation. Part of this effort involved appointing capable men to leadership roles. When the church laid hands on someone, it was a meaningful communal act. For example, at Jerusalem, the seven were presented to the apostles, who prayed and then laid their hands on them (Acts 6:6). Similarly, the church at Antioch fasted, prayed, and laid hands on Barnabas and Saul before sending them out (Acts 13.3). Timothy himself received a spiritual gift through prophetic words and the laying on of hands by the elders (1 Timothy 4.14). This gesture represented unity—confirming that the man represented the church, his teachings reflected their doctrine, and his character bore their name.

Because the act spoke loudly, Paul called for deliberate reflection. The qualities in 1 Timothy 3.1–7 and Titus 1.5–9 read like an in-depth character check—nothing a résumé can shortcut—being above reproach, temperate, prudent, able to teach, and maintaining “a good reputation with those outside the church” (1 Timothy 3.7). Paul explains why patience is vital: “The sins of some men are quite evident, going before them to judgment; for others, their sins follow after” (1 Timothy 5.24). Time reveals truth; character shows gradually. Someone who seems golden at first might only be gilded after a year.

Sharing Responsibility for the Sins of Others: The Doctrine of Shared Guilt

Here, the verse takes a serious turn. Paul warns that hastily endorsing someone risks more than embarrassment—it shares responsibility. Similarly, John states: “the one who gives him a greeting participates in his evil deeds” (2 John 11). A simple greeting, yet heaven views it as complicity since endorsement lends credibility, a form of moral currency. When the praised person falls into scandal, your hands are stained in the aftermath.

Paul urges us to avoid darkness and expose it (Ephesians 5.11). God illustrates this. He tested David and Jesus in hidden ways before giving divine approval. Should we rush to commend before celestial insight?

Keep Yourself Free from Sin: Discernment as an Act of Consecration

The verse closes with a call: “keep yourself free from sin”—meaning stay pure. But purity isn’t about primness; it’s about dedication—consciously dedicating your influence, your name, and your affections to what God approves. “How can a young man keep his way pure? By living according to Your word” (Psalm 119.9). The pure heart doesn’t just avoid defilement; it values something nobler. Paul prayed that love would flourish “in genuine knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve the best things” (Philippians 1.9–10). When practiced rightly, discernment isn’t suspicion; it’s worship. It’s a declaration to God: my approval belongs to You first, and I will not squander Your blessings.

There’s real joy here, more lasting than earning a badge. The believer who chooses his associations sleeps peacefully, keeps a spotless reputation, and finds fulfillment in God’s approval, not algorithms. “You will make known to me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy” (Psalm 16.11). Solomon emphasizes patience: “He who hurries his footsteps errs” (Proverbs 19.2). Rushing wastes time; holiness is savored.

Slow Hands in a Hasty Age: Practical Faithfulness for Today’s Christian

What, then, does obedience to 1 Timothy 5.22 look like when practiced consistently? It looks like the Bereans, who received the word with great eagerness, “examining the Scriptures daily to see whether these things were so” (Acts 17.11)—and they were examining an apostle. It looks like being “quick to hear, slow to speak” (James 1.19), and slower still to publicly commend. Before your congregation appoints a man, before you share a teacher’s video, before you badge a page or sign your name to a cause, let the questions of 1 Timothy 3 do their patient work. Watch the fruit. Wait a season. A hastily lent reputation returns slowly, if it returns at all.

Don’t overlook the vibrant gospel behind the command. When God embraced sinners, He did so purposefully and sacrificially, paying the eternal cost in blood. Christ stretched out His pierced hands and “gave Himself for us to redeem us from every lawless deed and to purify for Himself a people for His own possession, zealous for good deeds” (Titus 2.14). His favor bought your name, which you carry into every new connection. Gratefulness for costly grace calls for careful stewardship.

Keep your hands steady and heart eager—be thoughtful before endorsing, quick to obey. Carefully consider praise. Shine light on darkness instead of joining it. Use your influence for virtue and enthusiasm for good deeds. Remember, the One who never rushed to judgment extended His hands at Calvary. Live to honor that endorsement.

All Scripture quotations are from the New American Standard Bible, 1995 edition.