salvation – The Preacher Pollard Blog

Pointless Baggage

Dale Pollard

On Paul’s third missionary journey he would write to a congregation in Rome. Today this letter is viewed as sone of the most theologically deep books in our New Testament. Some think that there are portions of Scripture that are best left alone, or that only a preacher or Bible teacher can decipher the “code.” When we do some digging into the original audience that Paul was writing to, we see something interesting. He was delivering these deep theological concepts to a church that seemed to be largely lacking in spiritual knowledge. In fact, some of the members of this 1st-century church believed that God was glorified through their sins! Clearly they had some growing to do. Paul didn’t say they needed to stick with simple Christian concepts or the basics; he still tries to teach them the difficult and more complicated aspects of Christianity.

This is a call for us to challenge ourselves in our daily studies. The Bible was meant to be understood, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t take some effort on our part. The book of Romans is a rewarding book to study. In fact, it’s difficult to find another book that can give the Christian more joy and confidence in their salvation. In Romans 8:1, Paul writes, “There is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” At first glance this may just be a verse that many skim past because of how familiar we are with it. When we study the application of such a simple verse, in context, the benefits are incredible.

There’s no need to agonize over our relationship with Christ, if we’re in Christ. Paul simplifies our salvation by telling us that if we have obeyed the gospel and we’re striving to follow Jesus, we don’t have to live in fear of our standing before God. In fact, this phrase, “in Christ,” appears 172 times in the New Testament, but it’s a phrase that is largely misunderstood. Some Christians believe that through the course of their week they bounce from “saved” to “lost” on a daily basis. The idea of being “in” Christ is really describing a spiritual union— much like marriage! You don’t wake up everyday and ask your spouse, “Are we still married?” and then worry throughout the day that despite your spouse’s confirmation, you’re just not convinced that you’re really married to them. If we haven’t done anything to separate that union with Christ, we can live confidently knowing we are saved.

What a wonderful feeling. The book of Romans is one that helps us to let of any pointless baggage and live a life of peace and joy.

When James And John Wanted To Send Fire

Neal Pollard

In Luke nine, the inspired doctor writes about a certain group of Samaritan villagers who would not show hospitality to Jesus and His disciples. This did not sit well with James and John, who asked Christ, “Lord, do You want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” (9:54). They probably did not expect that the Lord would rebuke them for having such an idea, but He did.

What made these sons of thunder think of fire? Earlier in the chapter, the brothers had met Elijah up on the mount of transfiguration (30-34). There’s good reason to believe that the route they were taking back to Jerusalem would have put Mount Carmel in view on the horizon. Recently, they had heard the discussion about who people thought Jesus was and the mention of Elijah (19). Elijah could well have been very much on their minds! Elijah was a man who you would associate with fire. He prayed for God to send fire upon his evening offering to prove Jehovah to be the only true God (1 Kings 18:38; Elijah killed the 450 false prophets of Baal for good measure). In 2 Kings 1, Elijah sat upon a hill and sent word back to Ahaziah that he would die of his illness since he prayed to Baal-zebub rather than the true God. Ahaziah sent three companies of 50 soldiers up the hill to bring Elijah down to the wicked king, and Elijah called down fire from heaven to kill the first two captains and their fifty men. In 2 Kings two, Elijah is carried to heaven by a chariot and horses of fire (11).

James and John were probably, as good Jews, students of Old Testament history. They knew how God had acted against the wickedness of those in Old Testament times. It is not implausible that they were hoping for a similar showing from God.

It is interesting that Jesus, who came to earth to show us the Father (cf. John 14:9), did not share their desire for fiery vengeance on that occasion. Why? He says, “The Son of Man did not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them” (9:56). The Samaritans were part of those whom He came to save. He tells the disciples to take the gospel to the Samaritans (Acts 1:8). Ironically, John would go with Peter to the Samaritans to do “follow up” work with the new Christians there (Acts 8:14).

Maybe James and John wrestled with the nationalism that infected so many of their contemporaries. Maybe they saw Samaritans as worthless people, worthy of fire for even the slightest slights and fractional infractions. But, Jesus saw them as souls to be saved.

Do the atheists, false world religionists, and all others in error draw your ire and contempt as they flaunt God’s Word? What would you have God to do with them? I will tell you what He wants us to do with them. Share the good news of grace and the hope of salvation. Most will reject it, maybe even laughing you and God to scorn. But some will change! Through us, they can escape the fire (Matt. 25:41)!

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.

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.

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.

My God Is So Big

Dale Pollard

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

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

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

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

Grace Is Not A Cover For Irreverence

Brent Pollard

Imagine a man who has been fully pardoned by the king—sealed, signed, undeserved—who then strolls into the throne room, drops a bruised apple on the dais steps, and yawns his way through the royal anthem. He has mixed up mercy with permission. He has mistaken the king’s kindness for the king’s indifference. There were men like this among the prophet Malachi. They were dressed in priestly robes.

“But when you present the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? And when you present the lame and sick, is it not evil? Why not offer it to your governor? Would he be pleased with you? Or would he receive you kindly?” (Malachi 1.8, NASB). The question stings because it’s fair. The priests would never insult a Persian official with a lame lamb, but here they laid sick animals on the altar of the living God and called the transaction worship. God saw. God spoke. And what He said should still make us tremble.

When Worship Becomes Leftovers: The Warning of Malachi 1

Malachi’s generation never abandoned the temple. That’s the alarming part. They kept the schedule, they fanned the fires, they said the prayers—and God pronounced the whole show evil. Absence was not their sin. It was attendance wearing contempt. They gave God what was least costly to them, and He wasn’t going to pretend that gesture honored Him.

The irony was more than the priests knew, for their ancestors had suffered the Babylonian captivity because of the other side of this same coin. Israel continually worshiped the LORD before the exile, but they would not worship Him alone. They swore by the LORD and by Milcom in the same breath, bowing in His temple one week and burning incense on pagan high places the next (see Zephaniah 1.5), vacillating between two opinions until Elijah demanded a choice they would not make (1 Kings 18.21). They were driven into captivity by divided worship, and when they returned, God was met with diminished worship. Idolatry gives His honor to a rival; irreverence keeps the ritual and withholds honor—but both commit the same treason. Both deny Him the whole heart He demands. Both He rejects with equal fire.

We recognize the pattern because we carry it. The prayer mumbled while the mind is on tomorrow’s errands. The song mouthed without a single thought rising heavenward. The contribution calculated to pinch nothing. Long before Malachi, David saw the danger and slammed the door on it. When Araunah offered him a threshing floor without charge, the king refused: “I will not offer burnt offerings to the LORD my God which cost me nothing” (2 Samuel 24.24). David knew what the priests of Malachi’s day had forgotten: that a free offering announces a worthless God. Our offerings show what we think He is worth.

Would You Offer It to Your Governor? The Insult of Halfhearted Honor

The argument is from the lesser to the greater, and it is sound. If a defective gift would put you to shame in the presence of a human ruler — a man of dust who rules for a season, and then gives up the office — how can you set it before the Lord of hosts, whose name is feared among the nations? The priests had turned the order upside down. They praised men and blasphemed God. Their best was for those who could promote them and their scraps for God.

This caution is expressed in the first pages of the Bible. Cain brought only an offering, and God disregarded it; Abel brought the firstlings of his flock and their fat portions (Genesis 4.3–5). Nadab and Abihu carried strange fire before the Lord, fire He had not commanded, and learned in a single terrible moment that “by those who come near Me I will be treated as holy” (Leviticus 10.3). God has never let us worship him the way we want to. He defines what is pleasing to Him, and He sees—always—when we swap the convenient for the commanded and the leftover for the firstfruit.

Why God Prefers Closed Doors to Empty Ritual

Then comes the verse that should make every casual worshiper stop in their tracks: “Oh that there were one among you who would shut the gates, that you might not uselessly kindle fire on My altar!” (Malachi 1.10). Read it slowly. God would rather the temple remain dark than host a charade. He has no love for ritual. He doesn’t care for being buttered up with attendance figures. Heaven doesn’t want our smoke; it weighs our hearts. The same God told Israel through Isaiah that He was fed up with sacrifices from people full of wrongdoings (Isaiah 1.11–15). He also said through Amos that He wouldn’t listen to their music while their lives dishonored Him (Amos 5.21–23).

Why is it so serious? Worship isn’t a tax that God takes; it’s a joy He calls us to. Fake joy offends Him more than silence. “Serve the LORD with gladness” (Psalm 100.2) is not decoration on the command. It is the command. The priests of Malachi’s day sniffed at the altar and sighed, “My, how tiresome it is!” (Malachi 1.13), and in that sigh they revealed everything. A bored worshiper delivers a sermon with each yawn: this God isn’t worth my delight. But those who see Him truly cannot stay bored, for “God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4.24) — with the whole inner man ignited, and according to the pattern He has revealed.

Grace That Instructs: Reverence as the Fruit of Salvation

A critic will say Malachi thundered under the Old Covenant, but we live under grace. And that is precisely why the bar rises, not falls. Listen to what grace does: “For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all men, instructing us to deny ungodliness and worldly desires and to live sensibly, righteously and godly in the present age” (Titus 2.11–12). Grace instructs. Grace disciplines. Grace trains the redeemed heart to revere, not to relax. Any concept of grace that encourages disregard for God has been imported from outside the Bible.

The writer of Hebrews, standing on this side of the cross, presses the point further than Malachi ever did: “let us show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable service with reverence and awe; for our God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12.28–29). Notice the order of things: gratitude, then acceptable service, then reverence and awe. Grace doesn’t lower the temperature of worship; it raises it. Indeed, we must live in fear while we are here on earth. We are redeemed not by perishable silver or gold, but by the precious blood of Christ (1 Peter 1.17–19). The more expensive our pardon, the greater our respect should be. Worship that is cheap disrespects a costly cross.

Giving God Your Best: A Call to Wholehearted Worship

Make these questions personal. When the Lord’s day comes, is your heart ready, or just your schedule? When the congregation sings, do you give melody with your heart to the Lord, or do you move your lips while your mind wanders the week? As the plate passes, is your offering like David’s expensive gift or Cain’s convenient one? When the Word is preached, do you lean in as one who hears from the throne, or do you endure it as one who waits for lunch? God demands nothing of us but what He has already given us. Paul arrives at the only reasonable conclusion: “present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship” (Romans 12.1). Not the leftover hours. Not the blemished remainder. Your mind, your body, your Monday and Sunday, all of them laid out on the altar.

Return to the man in the throne room, pardon in hand, apple on the stairs. And think of the opposite: a forgiven man walking in trembling joy, laying his very best at the King’s feet, because the pardon taught him what the King is worth. Be that man. Be that woman. Close the gates of empty ritual in your own soul, and light instead a fire God will not scorn — the whole burnt offering of a thankful life.

God’s grace is a gift. It is never an excuse to treat Him lightly.

Grieving The Holy Spirit

Neal Pollard

Paul contrasts the “old man” of sin, before conversion, and “the new man” who is striving to live a right and holy life (Ephesians 4:20-24). As such, he gives a list of old and new behaviors:

In some of these contrasting behaviors, he highlights the fact of spiritual warfare, a theme he returns to in chapter six. For example, by giving in to sinful anger, one gives the devil an opportunity (27). By having a godly attitude, we imitate God’s grace in forgiving us (32). Yet, to me, as sobering as anything Paul says in this paragraph is a warning he issues in verse 30: “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.”

The Sin. The word “grieve” (“bring sorrow,” NLT) is an intense word, meaning “to cause severe mental or emotional distress” (BDAG, 604). Elsewhere in the New Testament, it describes Herod’s reaction when the daughter of Herodias asked for the head of John the Baptist (Matthew 14:9), the apostles’ reaction when Jesus predicts His death (Matthew 17:23), and the Christian’s response to the loss of a loved one (1 Thessalonians 4:13) and persecution (1 Peter 1:6). But, the cause of such anguish is our actions, specifically our speech. The word “and” closely ties what Paul says in verse 30 to the admonition in verse 29. Truly, willful, habitual sin of any sort would have the same effect, but Paul ties grieving the Holy Spirit to “unwholesome speech.” Zodhiates says that word “unwholesome” (“corrupting,” ESV; “foul or abusive,” NLT) was used to describe spoiled or rotten vegetables, meat, fish, or fruit (Matthew 7:17; 13:48; etc.)(np.). The idea is rotting, decaying, and offensive (TDNT, Vol. 5, 94-95). While Paul doesn’t use the graphic illustrations James does in warning about sins of the tongue (James 3:1ff), his warning is no less intense! We are wise to think about the wholesomeness (or lack thereof) of our words! Words that fail to meet the standard Paul sets in the second half of the verse have to be suspects on the list of unwholesome! Words that are destructive, demeaning, dirty, and the like leave the lasting effect of the intense feeling of sorrow and grief to God Himself! Refusing to stop such speech perpetuates this pain for Him!

The Seal. They made Jesus’ tomb secure with a seal (Matthew 27:66). The Christians in Revelation were said to be marked for identification with a seal (Revelation 7:3). The idea of sealing is to mark, set apart, acknowledge and prove (Newman, 177). Scripture teaches that the Holy Spirit indwells us as a sign or acknowledgment that we are in Christ (Romans 8:9-11; 2 Corinthians 1:22). Let us revisit the idea that the all-knowing, omnipresent Spirit of God is grieved by the unwholesome speech of a Christian. How much more grievous must that be for Him dwelling within us as we think the thoughts that precipitate such speech! Furthermore, how long will He remain in one who continuously, hardheartedly engages in such “old man behavior” (1 Samuel 16:14; Psalm 51:11; Hebrews 6:4-6; 10:26-31)?

The Salvation. Thankfully, each of us gets to choose! We do not have to succumb to the practice of sin, whether unwholesome words, the other old man behaviors in Ephesians 4, the works of the flesh in Galatians 5:19-21, or any other sinful practice disclosed in the New Testament. We have the option to live the Spirit-led life revealed in God’s Word! Nothing will drive us to do so any more than “the day of redemption.” This should be the ambition that wakes us up each day and drives us through the ups and downs of life. However we are pushed, pressured, and tempted, we will bear the fruit of the Spirit that will lead us to be found in Him (Philippians 3:9).

Do you struggle with taming the tongue (see James 3:1ff)? What will motivate you to put that away? How about remembering that God’s Spirit is in you between now and the day of redemption? Won’t this help you think more carefully about what you say and how you say it? Won’t it allow you to use those words which build up and bring grace to those who hear?

Does God Hear the Sinner?

Brent Pollard

A man who had never seen the color of morning once silenced the scholars of his nation with a single sentence. Blind from birth, he had been sent by Jesus to wash in the pool of Siloam, and he came back seeing (John 9.7). When the Pharisees pressed him to denounce his Healer as a sinner, the former beggar answered with a logic so clean it drew blood: “We know that God does not hear sinners; but if anyone is God-fearing and does His will, He hears him” (John 9.31).

We are quick to file this away as first-century prejudice—the man’s “we know” a borrowed scrap of rabbinic opinion. Did not God hear Cornelius, who stood outside the covenant (Acts 10)? The objection looks tidy on paper. But it mistakes the ground beneath his feet. The healed man was not parroting tradition. He was standing on bedrock that runs the entire length of Scripture, and we would do well to stand there with him.

What Kind of God Hears Prayer?

Begin with the kind of God we are dealing with. He is not a celestial clerk filing every petition with bland impartiality, nor a doting grandfather too sentimental to distinguish worship from rebellion. He is holy—“a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12.29)—and there is a moral grain to His universe as real as the grain in oak. Prayer is not a coin dropped into a machine; it is a creature speaking to its Maker, and the Maker is not deaf, but neither is He indifferent to the heart from which the words come.

What the Old Testament Says About God Hearing Sinners

Hear how plainly the prophets say it. To a Judah whose worship had grown lavish and whose hands had grown bloody, God thundered, “even though you multiply prayers, I will not listen. Your hands are full of bloodshed” (Isaiah 1.15). The psalmist turned the same truth inward, holding it like a lamp to his own chest: “If I regard wickedness in my heart, the Lord will not hear” (Psalm 66.18). Solomon set it in two clean lines of a proverb: “The LORD is far from the wicked, but He hears the prayer of the righteous” (Proverbs 15.29). And lest we think the matter is about volume rather than the heart, he added the sharpest word of all: “He who turns away his ear from listening to the law, even his prayer is an abomination” (Proverbs 28.9).

There is a terrible symmetry in that last verse. Stop your ears against God’s voice, and you have already chosen the silence you will one day cry into. The man who will not listen has, by that refusal, asked God not to listen either. This is not divine sulking. It is the moral architecture of a universe where reality answers to its Author—where a soul cannot spend its days shutting the door on heaven and then expect heaven to fling its windows open the moment trouble comes.

The Blind Man’s Argument in John 9.31

So, the once-blind man’s argument is not the dusty bias of his age. It is razor-edged Scripture: You call my Healer a sinner. Yet God has just done through Him what has never been done since the world began—opened eyes that never saw. “If this man were not from God, He could do nothing” (John 9.33). God does not hand such credentials to a rebel. Your verdict collapses under the weight of the very miracle you cannot deny.

Does God Ever Hear a Sinner’s Prayer?

But here we must not overshoot the runway, for the verse has a second half, and it is full of mercy: “but if anyone is God-fearing and does His will, He hears him.” The former blind man is not declaring God metaphysically deaf to every syllable a sinner speaks. He is drawing a line—not between the religiously credentialed and the outsider, but between the defiant and the seeking, between the man who uses God while spurning Him and the man who, however dim his knowledge, turns his face toward the light.

Why Cornelius Is Not an Exception

Which is precisely why Cornelius is no contradiction at all. Luke does not paint him as a brazen sinner gaming the system. He paints him as devout, generous, one who “prayed to God continually” (Acts 10.2). And the angel’s word to him is tender: “Your prayers and alms have ascended as a memorial before God” (Acts 10.4). Here is a man outside the covenant whose heart was already bent Godward, and God did not despise that hunger—He fed it. He sent Peter with the gospel, and Cornelius heard, believed, and was baptized (Acts 10.48). That is not God winking at rebellion. That is God meeting a seeker on the road and walking him the rest of the way home. “In every nation the man who fears Him and does what is right is welcome to Him” (Acts 10.35).

Set the two together and the supposed contradiction dissolves like morning mist. God does not grant a favorable hearing to the stubborn, impenitent sinner who clutches his sin with one hand and reaches for blessing with the other. But the humble, penitent, God-fearing seeker—even one who has not yet entered the fullness of covenant—He will hear, and will providentially draw nearer than that seeker dared hope. Isaiah and Acts are not at war. They are two notes of one chord.

When Your Prayers Feel Unanswered

What, then, do we do with this on a random Tuesday afternoon, when the bills are due, and our prayer feels like it bounces off the ceiling? We examine our hearts before we accuse the heavens. Scripture’s diagnosis is rarely that God has gone deaf; far more often, it is that we have cherished something we will not surrender. “If I regard wickedness in my heart”—there is the hinge. Unanswered prayer is sometimes God’s mercy refusing to subsidize our self-destruction, His way of saying that He loves us too much to bless a path that leads off a cliff.

The Door God Always Opens

So, the door stands open, and it has always opened from within a willing heart. The God who would not listen to bloodstained hands is the same God who heard a centurion’s quiet, continual prayers and sent a preacher across the sea to find him. He is never reluctant to receive the one who comes on His terms—broken, hungry, ready to obey. The question John 9 leaves ringing is not whether God can hear. It is whether we have made ourselves the kind of people He delights to answer. Turn your ear toward His law, and you will find He has been listening for your voice all along.

Books by the Pollards

A Tiny Spark Snail Mail Club (Kathy Pollard)

Shamgar The Son Of Anath

Neal Pollard

The brief account Shamgar in Judges 3:31 is interesting and unique. Othniel had a famous family tie (Caleb). Ehud had a unique anatomical feature (he is pointed out as “left-handed”). Shamgar is known for his weapon of war (“an oxgoad”). Much more is said about the opposing rulers, the oppression, and the operation of the deliverance of the other four of Israel’s first five judges (Shamgar will be followed by Deborah and Gideon). None of the judges, including Tola, Jair, Ibzan, Elon, or Abdon, have so little said about them or their length of judging of the nation. This is what is said about him:

“After him (Ehud) was Shamgar the son of Anath, who killed 600 of the Philistines with an oxgoad, and he also saved Israel” (3:31). Add to that a line which Deborah includes in her song of victory: “In the days of Shamgar, son of Anath, in the days of Jael, the highways were abandoned, and travelers kept to the byways” (5:6). What can we learn and apply from this extremely brief record?

He was resourceful–He killed the Philistines with an oxgoad. Like men after him, Samson with the jawbone of a donkey (15:15-17), Adino with an unnamed weapon (2 Sam. 23:8), Eleazer with a sword (2 Sam. 23:10), and Abishai, with a spear (2 Sam. 23:18), Shamgar took what he had and used it for God. Solomon later writes, “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might…” (Ecc. 9:10). God once asked Moses, “What is that in your hand?” (Ex. 4:2). Take inventory of your resources–money, talents, temperament, personality, intelligence, etc. Are you using them for Him?
He was valiant–He killed 600 Philistines with an oxgoad. What incredible odds! He went toe to toe, hand to hand, with 600 different people and was victorious over them all. He walked away from that confrontation alive! Can you imagine? Reminding ourselves that God delivered Israel through the judges, God was behind this victory. But He did so through this man. It reminds us of a truth taught by Paul, “…If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Rom. 8:31). When we face spiritual foes, God’s enemies, we don’t use weapons of the flesh (2 Cor. 10:4). Yet, God guarantees the outcome. Through John, He says, “You are from God, little children, and have overcome them; because greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world” (1 Jn. 4:4). With God’s help and power, you can win victories in battles you have no business engaging in!
He was useful–Judges 3:31 says he saved Israel. Judges 5:6 says he did his work in adverse times, when the highways were abandoned and travelers kept to the byways. While he gets but a footnote in history, what a legacy! There was a problem and he worked with God to provide a solution. The idea of a judge is of a savior. God saved the people through Shamgar. He had the freedom of choice, and he chose to save the people. Galatians 6:10 urges us all, “So then, awhile we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especially to those who are of the household of the faith.” You are valuable to God, but you must use what you have while you can to do all you can for Him! Just like Shamgar did!

Be Like The Baptizer

Dale Pollard

John the Baptist stood apart from the world around him. His message was bold, his lifestyle was humble (and a little weird), and his mission was clear— point people to Jesus. In many ways, the Christian life today should reflect the same spirit that marked John’s ministry.

In Luke 1, John’s name was not chosen according to family tradition or lineage. Instead, God Himself appointed the name John. That detail reminds us that our identity is no longer rooted in ourselves, our family history, or the expectations of others. We now carry the name of Christ. Scripture teaches that His name is powerful. In Luke 10, demons were cast out through His name. It’s through His name that sins are forgiven and through His name that we approach the Father with confidence. Christians are people marked by a different name.

At the same time, John clearly understood that he was not the Messiah. He refused to take a place that belonged only to Jesus. Christians today can fall into the same temptation when we place our opinions, judgments, or assumptions above others as though we can read hearts and minds. John’s humility reminds us that we are not called to be flawless saviors. Only Christ fills that role. Our responsibility is simply to be usable and obedient in His hands.

John also understood that his purpose was to point others to Jesus rather than himself. Even after gaining disciples and influence, he directed people away from himself and toward Christ. Humility remains essential in the Christian life. Paul addressed this issue in Corinthians when believers divided themselves by saying, “I am of Paul” or “I am of Apollos.” John was simply John. No believer is the center of the story. Dale is just Dale, and you are simply you. Christ alone deserves the spotlight.

Another defining characteristic of John’s life was his loyalty and submission to Jesus. Isaiah 53 describes Christ as appearing ordinary to the world, yet John recognized His greatness immediately. In Luke 3, John declared that he was not even worthy to untie Jesus’ sandals. True Christianity begins with recognizing the holiness of Christ and willingly submitting ourselves beneath His authority.

John’s message also remains the message of the church today: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matthew 3:2). His ministry culminated in the powerful declaration of John 3:30: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” That truth is at the heart of Christian living and echoes throughout books like Romans, 1 and 2 Peter, and James.

When believers decrease so Christ can increase, transformation happens everywhere. A church filled with disciples who are determined to humble themselves will grow stronger. Marriages flourish when husbands and wives seek less of themselves and more of Christ. Parents succeed when they raise children with eternity in mind rather than personal pride. Spiritual life deepens when personal ambition decreases and devotion to Christ increases.

John was different from the world around him. The question for every believer is the same— are we different? Can people tell by the way we live, speak, and serve that Jesus is increasing while we are decreasing?

Books by the Pollards

A Tiny Spark Snail Mail Club (Kathy Pollard)

Be Fearlessly Fervent

Dale Pollard

It takes a special individual of both breed and brand to truly impact the world. The fact is, many will live their lives comfortable and content to never break any molds or “step outside the box,” as they say. Most believers understand that God has called us out of this world to be lights and to be different, but that means being uncomfortable (James 1:2-4). We don’t like that aspect of faithful walking and at times the fire inside us and the will to go on is at the verge of being snuffed out. On every side we are surrounded by a raging current of mainstream ideologies and beliefs that drown the masses sweeping them closer towards eternity—unprepared. That familiar and depressing reality can discourage and frustrate us to the point of tears. Preachers, elders, and leaders are constantly fighting these feelings as they huff and puff under the weight of it all.

Christian fathers and mothers anxiously worry about that painfully uncertain future their children will battle. Young people are plagued with convincing thoughts that a faithful life is all but impossible today. How can we make an impact? You may wonder what difference you could possibly make as you observe such a powerful and evil force.

Here is the bad news, it’s hard. But here is the wonderful news, it’s worth it! God has given us an instruction manual on how to become mighty misfits in a culture that rejects righteousness. There are permanent footprints left by the feet of godly men throughout history, and their tracks lead to victory for those that choose to follow them.

For example, there is the trail blazer and zealous disciple, Paul. He serves as an inspiring nonconformist when he abandons his previous life of riches, respect, and comfort. His courage, faith, and determination can produce a powerful stirring in our spirits. If that man with the thorn can overcome fear and defeat the devil’s endeavors, despite his own weakness, then by the grace of God we can too. Our lives can leave an impact and they can serve as beacon of light for generations to come.

Notice how Jabez demonstrates this point in 1 Chronicles 4:9-10. Within a lengthy list of family lines that make up the sons of Judah, Jabez breaks the mold. While numerous names are given, there is something more to be said of Jabez. He stands out as one who was “more honorable” than those who were before him in verse nine. Though his name means “son of my sorrow,” a label associated with affliction, he refuses to let this name define his future. The key to his success is given in the following verse which says, “Jabez called upon the Lord saying, ‘oh that you would bless me, your hand be with me, and that you would keep me from harm so that it might not give me pain!’ And God granted what he asked.” That verse is loaded with valuable lessons for this age and every age to follow.

Lesson one, don’t interpret your future by looking at your past. It doesn’t matter what family you were born into or how you were raised. We all have been given at least three common blessings. If you are made in the image of God, and you are, then that means you have talent, opportunity, and a life. The amount of talent, number of opportunities, and quality of that life is irrelevant. You have everything you need to succeed which is precisely what our Father desires.

Lesson number two, only God can grant you gainful glory. Jabez established his lasting legacy and was victorious because he understood one thing. God is the God of impartiality. He offers a heavenly hand to help the stereotypically weak and sinful human break the stereotype. The cards of life you hold in your hand mean little to the God who owns the deck. Jabez, Paul, and many faithful others understood the weakness of humanity. Their lives are a statement and a confession— God can help anyone rise above the crowd. He can help you achieve the only recognition that counts and give you the precious gift of a future with certainty.

The path to victory is a narrow one according to Matthew 7:14. Few have found it and few have finished it, but with the right Guide it can definitely be done. Are you unsure of your current location? Look down at the tracks you are following, and the guide walking with you. If you are holding the hand of the Savior— you can be sure you’re going in the right direction. Allow that comfort to strengthen you and break out of whatever mold you are in. Let God use your weakness and failures to leave an eternal mark on a world that needs it. There is no congregation that can’t grow, no Christian that can’t improve, and no unsaved person that doesn’t deserve the chance to hear that life changing message of the cross. There’s a great day coming, and that should provoke some excitement as well as motivate us all to diligently and fearlessly work until then.

The Invitation

Carl Pollard

Revelation 3:20, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.”

This verse is one of the most well known invitations in Scripture, but it is often misunderstood. Many assume Jesus is speaking to unbelievers about initial salvation. While the principle certainly applies, the context shows that Jesus is actually speaking to Christians who have grown spiritually indifferent.

Revelation 3:20 is part of Jesus’ message to the church in Laodicea (Revelation 3:14–22). The Laodiceans believed they were spiritually healthy. They said, “I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing” (Revelation 3:17). Yet Jesus exposed their reality they were, “wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked.”

Their problem was lukewarm faith (Revelation 3:16). They were not openly hostile to Christ, but they were not passionately devoted either. They had allowed comfort and self sufficiency to push Jesus to the margins of their lives.

Jesus uses a powerful image, He is standing outside the door knocking. The church belonged to Him, and yet He was outside.

This idea is one of patient persistence. Jesus isn’t breaking the door down. He’s knocking and calling. The responsibility rests on the individual, “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door.” Faith is personal. Each person must respond.

Jesus promises something beautiful, “I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” In the first century, sharing a meal represented fellowship, acceptance, and relationship. Jesus is offering restored intimacy.

The Laodiceans had religion without love. Christ was offering them the very thing they lacked, true communion with Him!

This verse forces an uncomfortable question, Is Jesus really at the center of our lives, or have we pushed Him outside? It’s possible to attend church, know the Bible, and still live spiritually distant from Christ. Like the Laodiceans, we may feel self sufficient while our relationship with Him grows cold.

But the good news is that Jesus still knocks. He calls us back through His Word, through conviction, and through moments that soften our hearts. When we respond, He doesn’t reject us, He restores us.

Christ doesn’t want our attendance or routine. He wants our fellowship! The door only has one handle, and it’s on the inside. The question is simple, Will we open it?

The Power Of A Name

Dale Pollard

An angel appeared to Gideon while he was threshing wheat in winepress to hide from the Midianites, calling him a “mighty warrior” (Judges 6:12).

Gideon initially doubted his ability, noting how his clan was the weakest in Manasseh and he was the least in his family.

God instructed Gideon to reduce his army from 32,000 to only 300 men to ensure the glory was given to God, not human strength.

So, using only trumpets, jars, and torches, Gideon’s small force caused the Midianite army to panic and flee.

To this day he’s remembered as the judge who brought 40 years of peace to Israel, overcoming his own fear to act with God’s strength.

Rachel was dying during childbirth on the way to Ephrath (A.K.A. Bethlehem).

Before she dies, she names her son Ben-oni, which means “son of my sorrow” or “son of my pain.” A boy would struggle in many ways if he was forced to grow with a name that marked him as a bringer of pain and served as a constant reminder of grief.

Thankfully, his father, Jacob, changes his name to Benjamin; meaning “son of my right hand.” A name change that no doubt shaped his life growing up for the better.

It’s interesting how names or nicknames can shape our identities from a young age. When children are trying to find out who they are or what their place is in the world, they often internalize observations about themselves given by those they’re closest to.

God has allowed us to wear the Name of Christ (Romans 13.14)– an unbelievable honor. Anybody carrying His name has a future brighter than the rest.

Beyond Doomscrolling: How God Equips Us to Slay Giants

Brent Pollard

The Temptation to Feed on Fear

In this high-stakes election year, with our nation more tribalized than perhaps any time in recent memory, the core issue we face is a widespread habit: “doomscrolling.” This compulsive, endless consumption of negative news and distressing online content feeds anxiety, nurtures fear, and starves the soul of hope. First popularized during the COVID-19 pandemic, doomscrolling amounts to voluntary imprisonment in a cell of manufactured despair. To resist fear and reclaim perspective, we must rely on faith, deliberate thought, and God’s Word—tools that equip us for the challenges and Goliaths of our time.

The Christian response to such darkness must be light. We must make Philippians 4.6-8 not merely familiar, but our constant companion. Through prayer, we banish anxiety; through deliberate focus on what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, and excellent, we reclaim our thoughts from the enemy’s propaganda machine. Where the world offers an endless stream of catastrophe, God offers peace that surpasses understanding (Philippians 4.7).

Light-Scrolling and Ancient Warfare

It was through such positive scrolling—what we might call “light-scrolling”—that I encountered a video by someone calling himself “The Nerdy Christian.” His observation about David and Goliath arrested my attention and challenged assumptions I had carried for years. Like many, I had viewed this famous contest as ending in David’s victory solely through God’s direct intervention. Yet history reveals a more nuanced truth, making the story even richer.

The sling was no child’s toy. It was among the most fearsome weapons of the ancient world—a fact the Romans learned to their horror. When Hannibal crossed the Alps with his war elephants and stood at Rome’s gates, he brought 2,000 slingers whose skill was legendary. At the Battle of Cannae, one of Rome’s most devastating defeats, a slinger’s stone struck the consul Lucius Aemilius Paullus, inflicting wounds that led to his death. The mighty Republic that would eventually rule the Mediterranean nearly fell before the whirring death delivered by stones and leather straps.

The Insult Was Not in the Weapon

When Goliath taunted David, his words dripped with contempt—but not contempt for the sling itself. “Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks?” (1 Samuel 17.43 NASB). The sting lay not in dismissing the weapon, but in the absurdity of a shepherd boy, dressed in farm clothes and carrying pastoral tools, presuming to face a champion warrior. A proper opponent would bear the armor and weapons Saul had attempted to strap onto David’s young frame (1 Samuel 17.38-39). To Goliath, it was as if someone had sent a farmhand with a crook to chase off a trained predator.

But what the giant in his arrogance failed to perceive, David understood with crystalline clarity: God had been preparing him for this moment through every ordinary day he had spent in the fields.

The Physics of Faith

Slingers were crucial to the armies of the ancient Near East, Greece, and Rome. Their effectiveness was rooted in simple physics—the high kinetic energy produced by rotational motion and release velocity. When 1 Samuel 17.49 describes the stone sinking into Goliath’s forehead, it aligns perfectly with natural laws. The stone would have fractured the giant’s skull, perhaps punching clear through to lodge itself in the wound. This created the impression of “sinking” into the flesh.

What the armored Goliath seems to have overlooked was the relative thinness of skin and bone protecting the brain. The practiced David, who had spent years perfecting his aim against predators, knew precisely where to deliver the lethal blow. He didn’t need God to bend the laws of nature. God had already woven into creation the very physics that would bring down the blasphemer.

Does this rob the story of its wonder? Far from it. This understanding actually deepens our appreciation for how God works.

Providence in the Pasture

Though God did not need to perform a supernatural miracle at the moment of combat, His providence had followed David throughout his youth like a shepherd follows his flock. That providence established a pattern, a precedent upon which faith could firmly stand. As David himself declared before the king, God had given him strength to defeat lions and bears that threatened his sheep (1 Samuel 17.34-37). The same covenant-keeping God who delivered him from those fierce beasts would deliver him from this uncircumcised Philistine who dared mock the living God and His people.

Here we glimpse a profound truth about divine preparation: God uses the mundane to equip us for the momentous. David’s years in obscurity, mastering a weapon most would consider beneath a warrior’s dignity, became the very foundation for his greatest victory. His faithfulness in small things—protecting defenseless sheep from predators—prepared him for great things. He protected defenseless Israel from the champion of Gath.

More Than the Mundane

The Nerdy Christian rightly observed that God will use the ordinary experiences of our lives to equip us for extraordinary callings. Yet we must not stop there. Otherwise, we truncate the full counsel of Scripture. God has not limited Himself to using only the mundane to prepare His people for battle.

Consider Paul’s instruction to Timothy: “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3.16-17 NASB). God has given us His very words—not merely as historical record or moral guideline, but as comprehensive equipment for “every good work.” Peter echoes this truth when he reminds us that God’s divine power “has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness, through the true knowledge of Him” (2 Peter 1.3 NASB). The context reveals that this knowledge comes through the Gospel itself.

And what is this Gospel? Paul declares it to be “the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes” (Romans 1.16 NASB). The Greek word translated “power” isdunamis (δύναμις)—the very word from which Alfred Nobel derived the name for his explosive invention: dynamite.

Yes, the Gospel is God’s dynamite.

Weapons Divinely Powerful

Listen to how Paul describes this explosive power that God places in our hands: “For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh, for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses. We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ” (2 Corinthians 10.3-5 NASB).

Scripture itself is the sword of the Spirit (Ephesians 6.17), sharper than any two-edged blade. It pierces to the division of soul and spirit, discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart (Hebrews 4.12). Where David carried five smooth stones from the brook, we carry the eternal Word that spoke worlds into existence. Where David’s sling could fell one giant, God’s Word can topple every fortress of falsehood that exalts itself against truth.

Equipped for Every Giant

The giants we face today seldom wear bronze armor or carry spears like weaver’s beams. They come disguised as anxiety scrolling through our feeds. They come in the form of speculations that undermine faith, as lofty arguments against the knowledge of God. They appear in the culture’s contempt for biblical truth, in our own wavering doubts, in the thousand small compromises that would diminish our devotion.

But God has equipped us to face them all. Through the mundane experiences of life, He builds practical skills in us. He builds tested faith. Through the profound truth of His Word, He arms us with weapons divinely powerful. Through the Gospel’s explosive force, He gives us everything pertaining to life and godliness.

The question is never whether God has equipped us. The question is whether we will, like David, step forward in faith with the tools He has provided. Refuse the ill-fitting armor of human wisdom. Trust instead in the name of the Lord of hosts whom we serve (1 Samuel 17.45).

The Witness of Preparation

When we immerse ourselves in Scripture daily, its truth shapes our thoughts and guides our steps. Something remarkable happens. We discover we can indeed slay every evil giant we face. As we grow deeper in a relationship with our Savior, others will take note—just as the religious leaders noticed about the apostles—that we have been with Jesus (Acts 4.13).

This is God’s way: to prepare us through providence, equip us through His Word, and empower us through His Spirit. He takes shepherd boys and makes them giant-slayers. He takes fishermen and makes them fishers of men. He takes ordinary believers and uses them to turn the world upside down (Acts 17.6).

The giants still taunt. The enemy still rages. But we need not doomscroll through catalogs of catastrophe, rehearsing reasons for despair. Instead, let us take up the weapons God has forged for us—both the practical skills refined through faithful living and the spiritual sword that is His eternal Word. Let us step forward, not in our own strength, but in the name of the God who has covenanted with His people. And let us remember: the battle belongs to the Lord (1 Samuel 17.47). He uses the weak things of this world to shame the strong, that no flesh should glory in His presence (1 Corinthians 1.27-29).

In Christ, we are more than conquerors (Romans 8.37). Every giant will fall. When we resist the culture of fear and trust in the practical skills God builds in us and the explosive power of His Word, we are equipped for every challenge. In this way, the world will know that there is a God in spiritual Israel (1 Samuel 17.46; Romans 9.6-8).

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The Temptation to Feed on Fear

Light-Scrolling and Ancient Warfare

The Insult Was Not in the Weapon

The Physics of Faith

Providence in the Pasture

More Than the Mundane

Weapons Divinely Powerful

Equipped for Every Giant

The Witness of Preparation

Give this to others: