We Are Known By God

7 “And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write: ‘The words of the holy one, the true one, who has the key of David, who opens and no one will shut, who shuts and no one opens. 8 “ ‘I know your works. Behold, I have set before you an open door, which no one is able to shut. I know that you have but little power, and yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name. 9 Behold, I will make those of the synagogue of Satan who say that they are Jews and are not, but lie—behold, I will make them come and bow down before your feet, and they will learn that I have loved you. 10 Because you have kept my word about patient endurance, I will keep you from the hour of trial that is coming on the whole world, to try those who dwell on the earth. 11 I am coming soon. Hold fast what you have, so that no one may seize your crown. 12 The one who conquers, I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God. Never shall he go out of it, and I will write on him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down from my God out of heaven, and my own new name. 13 He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’ 

14 “And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: ‘The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of God’s creation. 15 “ ‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! 16 So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. 17 For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. 18 I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. 19 Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. 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. 21 The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. 22 He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’ ”

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2025), Re 3:7–22.

We find ourselves in a season where the Church often feels paralyzed, locked in a metaphorical prison of our own making. Whether it is the iron bars of cultural pressure, the shackles of internal division, or the stifling walls of spiritual lethargy, we feel restricted and unable to do what we want, and powerless to do what we ought. We are stuck, and in this confinement, we are desperate for hope. It is precisely here, in the shadow of restriction, that we must look to the Apostle John. Exiled on the barren, rocky island of Patmos, John was physically imprisoned, cut off from his community and his work. Yet, it was in this place of isolation that heaven didn’t send a message in a bottle, but rather it broke in with a visitation. God did not merely send John information to study, but he was sent a Person to see, as the veil revealed that Christ is not a distant auditor checking boxes from afar, but is alive and active, walking among the churches. To understand the hope we have in our own prison, we must understand that Christ is the anchor of our hope as the One who walks among us is also the One who sees through us and knows us, and even with all of that Christ still stands for us.

That look at the churches ultimately transforms into a simple phrase that Jesus repeats with precision, “I know.” When He speaks this to the churches, He is not merely indicating he is aware of their calendar of activities, but He opens up a covenant lawsuit. The risen Christ, standing as both King and Judge, issues a verdict on their faith, love, endurance, and obedience. Jesus pushes away the public relations and the reputation to reveal the true spiritual state of His people, because public perception means nothing, and reality is everything. We see this vividly when we look at the disparity between how the world saw these seven churches and how Jesus saw them. In Ephesus, though they had impressive doctrine, Jesus saw their love had cooled into heartless orthodoxy. While in Smyrna, they were afflicted and poor, but Christ viewed them as truly rich. The church in Pergamum displayed courage in the face of hostility; however, Jesus still indicted them for being compromised in holiness. Thyatira’s Christians were growing in service and love, but had a dangerous tolerance for internal corruption. While Sardis had a famous reputation for being full of life, but yet God pronounced them dead.

Nowhere is the contrast between worldly metrics and divine reality sharper than in the letter to Philadelphia. Here was a church situated in a frontier city, a missionary crossroads that had been literally shaken by earthquakes and plagued by civic instability. To the naked eye, they appeared fragile, a community possessing little to no power. However, Jesus introduces Himself to them not merely as an observer, but as “the Holy One, the True One, who has the key of David.” He reminds them that He alone controls access, opportunity, and final vindication. They kept His word despite their apparent weakness, He offered them three staggering promises. First, He sets before them an open door, which is a missional opportunity that no human force can shut, granted not to the impressive, but to the faithful. Second, He promises a great reversal, assuring them that their opponents will one day be forced to acknowledge that this overlooked community is the one beloved by the Lord. And finally, to a people living in a city terrified of the ground shaking beneath them, He promises they will be a pillar in the temple of my God, the embodiment of immovable, unshakable security. We see in Philadelphia that a church with little power but great faithfulness can carry enormous kingdom weight.

In stark contrast stands Laodicea, a warning against the danger of comfortable uselessness. This city was wealthy and self-sufficient, but its water supply was its fatal flaw. While nearby Hierapolis boasted hot healing springs and Colossae offered cold, refreshing mountain water, Laodicea had to pipe its water in. By the time it arrived, it was lukewarm and nauseating—good for nothing but to be spit out. When Christ calls them “lukewarm,” it isn’t a rebuke about a lack of emotional heat or spiritual zeal; rather Jesus rebukes their lack of usefulness. They were neither healing like the hot springs nor refreshing like the cold water. They had succumbed to the ultimate self-deception, declaring, “I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.” When Christ strips away their bank accounts to reveal that they are “wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked”. To this self-reliant people, He offers three specific remedies: exchange material security for a faith purified by trial, lay aside self-made status and embrace righteousness that covers their shame, and confess their spiritual blindness to receive sight from the Spirit, which is especially poignant in a city famous for treating physical eyes. In Laodicea we see that Christ’s harshest words are not for the persecuted but for the comfortable.

It is a sobering audit that forces us to look in the mirror. Christ’s verdicts expose how often our metrics of success and His are worlds apart. Jesus walks among us today, and His words “I know” are not meant to drive us into despair, but to lead us toward freedom, just as He did with the seven churches. He looks past our public persona to reveal the specific things we need to work through in our hidden compromises, and the prisons of our own making, formed through the habits that stifle our light. He exposes these areas not to shame us, but because we cannot be healed of what we refuse to acknowledge. But here is the vital balance: His gaze is not only searching; it is validating. He also sees the quiet faithfulness that no one else notices. He sees where you have endured like Smyrna, where you have kept His word with “little power” like Philadelphia, and where you have labored in love despite exhaustion. He knows the secret battles you have won and the silent sacrifices you have made. The eyes of fire do not just burn away the chaff; they also illuminate the gold. In this, we find our greatest comfort: we are fully known, yet fully loved, by the only One whose opinion actually matters.

Ultimately, we must ask why God bothers to disrupt us when we feel perfectly comfortable in our prisons. Why does He expose our blindness or our coldness? His rebuke is not a denial of His affection, but the ultimate proof of it; He loves us too much to leave us in the dark. This divine discipline demands a response, not guilt, but a return to righteousness and faith. It is a call to trade cold duty and religious performance for loving obedience. And while this letter is addressed to the whole church, the invitation is personal for it states: “He who has an ear, let him hear.” You cannot force the whole church to change, but you can be a force for change within it. It is better to be crushed and faithful than comfortable and useless. God gives us a job to do and a people to be because He sees not just who we are, but who we can be in Him. Francis Schaeffer asked the question: “If the Holy Spirit left our church this week, how long would it take us to notice?” We will only notice if we find ourselves living in the constant presence of Christ, who walks among us.

We hear the words of Christ while huddled in a prison of our own making, paralyzed and unable to do what we ought. But the vision of Revelation reveals that the door to this prison is locked from the inside. The Lord, the One with eyes of fire who sees everything, stands at that door and knocks. He does not batter it down with overwhelming power, instead He invites fellowship. He promises, “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him”. The Church and followers of Christ must cast off the works of darkness, the quarreling and jealousy that keep us shackled in the dark, and exchange it for light. We are called to put on the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. His looking upon us with knowing eyes refines us, burning away impurities, not to destroy us, but so that we may stand with joy and confidence in God’s Holy Presence. We do not have to hide in our cells any longer, we are invited to open the door, and walk in the light of the love of a God that knows us.

Revealing Jesus Is The Point

1 The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show to his servants the things that must soon take place. He made it known by sending his angel to his servant John, 2 who bore witness to the word of God and to the testimony of Jesus Christ, even to all that he saw. 3 Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear, and who keep what is written in it, for the time is near. 

4 John to the seven churches that are in Asia: Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne, 5 and from Jesus Christ the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of kings on earth. To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood 6 and made us a kingdom, priests to his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. 7 Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of him. Even so. Amen. 8 “I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.” Vision of the Son of Man 

9 I, John, your brother and partner in the tribulation and the kingdom and the patient endurance that are in Jesus, was on the island called Patmos on account of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus. 10 I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s day, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet 11 saying, “Write what you see in a book and send it to the seven churches, to Ephesus and to Smyrna and to Pergamum and to Thyatira and to Sardis and to Philadelphia and to Laodicea.” 12 Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, 13 and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash around his chest. 14 The hairs of his head were white, like white wool, like snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire, 15 his feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the roar of many waters. 16 In his right hand he held seven stars, from his mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining in full strength. 17 When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand on me, saying, “Fear not, I am the first and the last, 18 and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades. 19 Write therefore the things that you have seen, those that are and those that are to take place after this. 20 As for the mystery of the seven stars that you saw in my right hand, and the seven golden lampstands, the seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2025), Re 1:1–20.

The Book of Revelation often comes with a heavy reputation. For many of us, it conjures up images of confusing charts, terrifying beasts, and debates about timelines that leave us more anxious than anchored. We tend to approach it like a riddle to be solved or a code to be cracked, obsessing over the “when” and the “how” of the end times. But if we start there, we miss the entire heartbeat of the book. As we begin this journey together, I want to suggest that the key to unlocking this final book of the Bible isn’t found in a timeline, but in a person. The title itself gives it away: it is not “The Revelation of the End of the World” or “The Revelation of Future Events.” It is, very simply, The Revelation of Jesus Christ.

The word “Revelation” comes from the Greek word apokalypsis, which means an “unveiling” or a “revealing.” It’s the image of a curtain being pulled back to show what is actually there. We often use the word “apocalypse” to mean disaster or catastrophe, but its biblical meaning is far more hopeful. It is about pulling back the curtain of our current reality, with all its chaos, sorrow, and confusion, to reveal who is really on the throne. The point of this book is not to obscure the truth with symbols, but to reveal the Truth Himself. It is designed to show us Jesus in a way we perhaps haven’t seen Him before: not just as the suffering servant or the teacher in Galilee, but as the risen, ruling, and reigning King of the cosmos.

At the core of the introduction, we see the Apostle John, exiled on the island of Patmos, hearing a voice like a trumpet. When he turns to see the voice, he doesn’t see a calendar of events; he sees a Person. He sees the Son of Man, clothed in a long robe, with a golden sash, eyes like a flame of fire, and a voice like the roar of many waters. This is Jesus, unveiled in His glory. It’s a vision so overwhelming that John, who once leaned against Jesus’ chest at the Last Supper, falls at His feet as though dead. This response is crucial. When we truly see Jesus in His holiness and power, our first response is often a reverent fear. We realize that He is not a tame God that fits neatly into our boxes.

This is exemplified by the glorified Jesus reaching out and laying His right hand on John, and speaking words that should echo in our hearts: “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one.” The point of revealing Jesus is not to terrify us, but to comfort us. Because He is the First, He was there before our problems began, He is the Last, He will be there after they are long gone, and because He is the Living One who died and is alive forevermore, He holds the keys to everything we are afraid of, even death itself.

Let’s keep the main thing the main thing. We aren’t here to speculate about the future; rather, we are here to meet the One who holds the future. If you find yourself lost in the symbols or fearful of the signs, come back to the center. Look for Jesus. Revealing Him is the point. When we see Him clearly, standing with the lampstands and holding the stars in His hands, we see Jesus ruling over history, and it changes how we live in the present. We can stop living in fear of what is to come, because we know Who is already here.

In The Light Of A New Year We Begin Again

1 In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. 2 The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. 3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4 And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2025), Ge 1:1–5.

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life, and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2025), Jn 1:1–5.

At the beginning of a new year, the image that comes to mind is that of a blank slate: crisp planners, empty calendars, and clean pages that have yet to be marked. January feels fresh, full of possibilities, and the shelves are lined with tools for organizing and reinventing life. Many people head to the gym with renewed determination, crowding the space for the first couple of weeks as they try to improve themselves. That same impulse toward new beginnings should exist spiritually as well, stirring a hunger to pick up Scripture with a fresh commitment and to start again with God. Beneath that desire lies a deeper awareness that something inside is not right, that there is hurt, groaning, and a genuine need for change.​

This need for a true new beginning is reflected in the opening of Genesis, where the earth is described as without form and void, with darkness over the face of the deep and the Spirit of God hovering over the waters. The picture is one of confusion, emptiness, and shapelessness—a world in chaos. Into that chaos, God does not struggle or force anything; God simply speaks. With the words “Let there be light,” light appears, order begins, and God separates light from darkness and calls it good. Even today, the phrase “Let there be light” echoes in places like the University of California’s motto, expressing a commitment to bringing illumination and understanding into confusion. This is how God works: by the power of a spoken word that brings order, meaning, and goodness where there was once only disorder.​​

The prologue of the Gospel of John picks up this same theme of beginnings, declaring that in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. John intentionally echoes Genesis to show that the arrival of Jesus is a new creation event, an act of re‑creation in a dark world. By using the Greek term logos, John speaks both to the Hebrew story of creation by God’s word and to the Greek understanding of logos as the ordering principle of the universe. Logos is no mere concept; it is a person, Jesus Christ, through whom all things were made, in whom is life, and whose life is the light of humanity. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it, even when that darkness takes the form of rejection, suffering, and the cross.​​

Because of this, the hope for a new year is not found in a reset button that erases the past, but in God’s ongoing work of re‑creation. No one can truly wipe away their history or pretend their failures never happened, and Scripture does not begin with a world that is already good, but with one that is disordered and chaotic. God speaks into that chaos and only then declares it good, just as Christ confronts sin rather than skipping over it. Personal chaos, stress, anxiety, fear, broken relationships, does not vanish the moment someone turns to Christ; those patterns continue to threaten and return. The call is to remember where those patterns came from, to understand the past rather than ignore it, and to let God’s word keep speaking order and light into the places where darkness tries to reemerge.​

In a world where each morning’s headlines reveal new sites of chaos and brokenness, God still says, “Let there be light,” and invites people to be that light in the new year. This invitation is not about forcing change or overpowering others, but about quietly and consistently reflecting the light of Christ through everyday life. The world does not need more clever religious slogans or symbols to identify Christians; it needs men and women whose kindness, consideration, love, and integrity make the presence of Christ visible. Each sunrise and sunset becomes a reminder to “do it again,” to begin again in being light in the darkness. To step into this year, then, is to accept the opportunity to live outwardly what God has begun inwardly, letting the eternal light placed within shine so that others can see and know there is a God who still brings order out of chaos and invites everyone to begin again.

Hope In The Unexpected

36 “But concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only. 37 For as were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 38 For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, 39 and they were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 40 Then two men will be in the field; one will be taken and one left. 41 Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken and one left. 42 Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. 43 But know this, that if the master of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Mt 24:36–44.

The season of Advent serves as a time of profound anticipation where the Church looks back to the manger and forward to the second coming of Jesus. While many believers have been shaped by popular culture to view this future hope as an evacuation from a doomed world, Scripture paints a different picture. We are not waiting for a secret departure but for the parousia, a technical term denoting the official arrival of a king to transform his city and begin his reign. Our hope is grounded in a royal arrival rather than a rescue mission that abandons creation.

This distinction becomes clear when we carefully examine Matthew 24 and strip away the influence of modern novels and movies. Jesus explicitly compares His return to the days of Noah, where the unrighteous were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away. In this biblical parallel, being taken corresponds to judgment and removal, just as the flood waters removed the wicked. Conversely, Noah and his family were the ones left behind on the earth to inherit the new era, meaning that those who remain are actually the blessed ones preserved for salvation.

This interpretation is reinforced by the consistent pattern of judgment found throughout the Gospel of Matthew. In the parables of the wheat and the tares, the dragnet, and the sheep and the goats, it is always the unrighteous who are first removed from the kingdom to face judgment. The wheat, the good fish, and the sheep remain to inherit what the Father has prepared for them. Even in the parallel passage in Luke, Jesus clarifies that those who are taken are brought to a place of judgment where vultures gather, further confirming that the removal is a somber fate rather than a joyful escape.

Recognizing this truth shifts our theological framework from a desire for spiritual escape to a robust hope in the restoration of all things. The biblical vision is not about discarding the cosmos but about the renewal of heaven and earth under the lordship of Christ. This perspective aligns with the “new creation” model, which expects God to purify and perfect the physical world rather than destroy it. Such a hope encourages us to value the earth and our physical existence as part of God’s redemptive plan.

Therefore, our Advent waiting must be characterized by active stewardship rather than passive idleness. The parables of the ten virgins and the talents instruct us to remain faithful and productive, investing our lives in the work of the Gospel while we await our Master. We do not look for a secret exit but stand ready to welcome King Jesus when He returns to cleanse His creation. We wait with the confident hope that we will be the ones left behind to inhabit the renewed earth and dwell with Him forever.

No Excuses

4 Now the word of the Lord came to me, saying, 5  “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” 6 Then I said, “Ah, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth.” 7 But the Lord said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am only a youth’; for to all to whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. 8  Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, declares the Lord.” 9 Then the Lord put out his hand and touched my mouth. And the Lord said to me, “Behold, I have put my words in your mouth. 10  See, I have set you this day over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to break down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.” 

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Je 1:4–10.

God empowers individuals to fulfill their purposes and achieve great things, expecting them to act on His plan without excuses. This divine empowerment is not contingent on human qualifications or self-perceived abilities; rather, it is a gift from God intended to dispel self-doubt and equip people with His very Words. The core of God’s purpose for us is a resounding call to action, reminding all followers that God has a plan for each of their lives and that excuses are an obstacle He has no time for. He gives the authority and the means to succeed, leaving no valid excuse for inaction.

Excuses are a universal problem, because they hinder progress and are ultimately irrelevant in the face of God’s purpose. Whether in everyday life or when responding to a divine call, excuses are unhelpful and frustrating to those who receive them. God does not care about our excuses, no matter how clever or seemingly valid they may be, because He has already chosen and set us apart for a specific service. He knows our every limitation, but He also knows the immense power He has placed within us. Therefore, to make an excuse is to dismiss God’s foreknowledge and His perfect, loving plan.

Furthermore, God does not require qualifications or prerequisites for us to serve Him. Common excuses like being too young, too old, or lacking specific abilities are irrelevant to a God who provides the necessary tools. Our true qualifications and preparation for service come directly from God’s gifting, not from a series of classes or achievements. God’s choice is rooted in His unconditional love, not in our merit. He is fully aware of our perceived shortcomings, but He expects us to focus not on our limitations, but on the power He has put within us to achieve anything.

The authority to serve God is born out of obedience, and it requires individuals to set aside their excuses and simply follow His commands. Our job as believers is not to add our own thoughts or cleverness to God’s word, but to deliver it faithfully to people. This act of obedience is what gives us the authority to act on His behalf. It is through this submission that God works, cleansing and transforming us and putting His power and words in our mouths. When we embrace this truth, we understand that any rejection of the message is a rejection of God Himself, not of our own limited abilities.

There are no excuses that should inhibit us from fulfilling God’s plan. Through His Word and the Gospel, God gives believers the authority to bring hope to the downtrodden, peace to the anxious, and love to a world in need. This authority is not based on worldly power, but on the immense transformative power of the Holy Spirit. With God having already done the crucial prep work by choosing and equipping us, our only remaining task is to obey and take action. God provides an unwavering call to set aside all reasons for inaction and to embrace the purpose for which we were created—to serve His kingdom and bring about His will on earth.

Walking On Nothing But Faith

8 By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. 9 By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. 10 For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God. 11 By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive, even when she was past the age, since she considered him faithful who had promised. 12 Therefore from one man, and him as good as dead, were born descendants as many as the stars of heaven and as many as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore. 

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Heb 11:8–12.

Desperation will cause many to either do many great things, or lead to a road that may be unsavory. However, when someone is desperate they lack options and will resort to the limited scope of vision they have in a time of peril. These are times that lead us to act on nothing but a guess. Faithful action will seemingly act against common sense because while lacking clear immediate outcomes, faith is not born of desperation or blind guesses, but rather from a deep-seated confidence in the unseen realities of God’s promises. While desperation might compel individuals to act on limited vision or guesswork, Abraham and Sarah’s faith, as depicted in these sources, represents a profound departure from this. Their responsive, sacrificial, courageous, persistent, and dependent faith allowed them to transcend their seemingly desperate circumstances, not by guessing, but by trusting absolutely in the character and promises of a faithful God, whose power and wisdom surpass all human limitations and uncertainties.

Obedience to God’s call is the beginning of faith. Abraham’s faith was immediately expressed through his obedience to God’s command to leave his homeland for an unknown destination. He went out, not knowing where he was going, and didn’t trouble his mind with where he was going. This profound trust meant he placed himself entirely in God’s hands. His faith displaced all worry about his future, demonstrating that implicit faith and obedience are due to God, and to him alone. This act of obedience went against all common sense, as he left familiarity and security for the unknown, relying solely on God’s word. Abraham’s departure was a great trial of faith. He left behind everything that was secure, prosperous, peaceful, and enjoyable, including his family, highlighting the sacrificial aspect of his faith. His willingness to embark on this journey without a clear destination required heroism and courage, as the explicit promise of the land as an inheritance was given only after he had entered Canaan. While God promised Abraham a physical land, the sources emphasize that Abraham’s ultimate hope extended beyond the earthly Canaan. He lived in the land of promise as a stranger, dwelling in tents, which signified his transient status. Our response to God’s call when we walk in faith doesn’t rely on earthly assurances or a fallback plan. Instead, we rely solely on the command to go and do it. Through Christ, we see that hope is manifested through faith and that to walk on faith, we must rely upon God’s call alone and not on our own worldly securities.

Sarah’s journey shows how faith can conquer unbelief and yield incredible results. Initially, her unbelief was evident when she laughed at God’s promise of a son in her old age and previously, when she had Abraham sleep with Hagar. However, her faith ultimately prevailed. She came to believe that God, who had made the promise, was faithful and capable of fulfilling it. This unwavering confidence in God’s reliability became the cornerstone of her faith. The ultimate fruit of her faith was the birth of Isaac, a child of the promise. This seemingly impossible birth was the beginning of God’s promise to make Abraham’s descendants as countless as the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore. This demonstrates God’s power to make a barren life, whether physically or spiritually, fruitful. Sarah’s lineage eventually led to the Messiah, the greatest blessing of all. This story illustrates that faith doesn’t always immediately remove doubt, but by remaining in it, we allow God to address our unbelief and bless us in unimaginable, often impossible, ways. It also shows that God sometimes asks us to let go of our reliance on worldly systems and walk on faith alone.

Faith is an active journey toward God’s purpose, a path that often leads to the unpredictable. The stories of biblical figures like Abraham and Noah illustrate this. Abraham’s obedience, for instance, immediately demonstrated his faith, guiding him on a journey into the unknown. Similarly, Noah’s construction of the ark and Sarah’s miraculous conception in old age show how faith can challenge common sense. These examples reveal that faith isn’t static but a dynamic process. The lives of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob embody this journey. They lived as pilgrims, acknowledging they were “aliens and strangers on earth,” symbolizing their refusal to settle for a temporary existence. Their nomadic life in tents reflected a constant readiness for a better, heavenly dwelling. This “pilgrim spirit” emphasizes that Christians should not prioritize material possessions but rather be prepared for God’s mission. The popular scout motto, “Be Prepared,” echoes this sentiment, but with a spiritual distinction. While it often means readiness for the unexpected, the preparation God asks of us is a readiness to serve when He calls. This is the essence of a faith journey: a continuous readiness to go forth and be an ambassador for God in the world. It means finding peace in uncertainty, resting in the certain nature of God, and trusting in His desire to care for us and all creation.

Abraham and Sarah are foundational examples of biblical faith. Their lives demonstrate a profound trust in God’s promises, even when those promises seemed naturally impossible or required immense sacrifice. Their story shows that faith is not a desperate reaction but an active, persistent, and confident reliance on God’s character and power. Instead of being limited by human uncertainty, they were able to move forward, knowing that God specializes in the impossible. Ultimately, their journey as sojourners highlights a hope that transcends earthly life, calling believers to anticipate a permanent, heavenly inheritance. Thus we need to reconnect to faith not out of desperation, but out of an obedience to the Almighty God.

Becoming

2 When the Lord first spoke through Hosea, the Lord said to Hosea, “Go, take to yourself a wife of whoredom and have children of whoredom, for the land commits great whoredom by forsaking the Lord.” 3 So he went and took Gomer, the daughter of Diblaim, and she conceived and bore him a son. 4 And the Lord said to him, “Call his name Jezreel, for in just a little while I will punish the house of Jehu for the blood of Jezreel, and I will put an end to the kingdom of the house of Israel. 5 And on that day I will break the bow of Israel in the Valley of Jezreel.” 6 She conceived again and bore a daughter. And the Lord said to him, “Call her name No Mercy, for I will no more have mercy on the house of Israel, to forgive them at all. 7 But I will have mercy on the house of Judah, and I will save them by the Lord their God. I will not save them by bow or by sword or by war or by horses or by horsemen.” 8 When she had weaned No Mercy, she conceived and bore a son. 9 And the Lord said, “Call his name Not My People, for you are not my people, and I am not your God.” 10  Yet the number of the children of Israel shall be like the sand of the sea, which cannot be measured or numbered. And in the place where it was said to them, “You are not my people,” it shall be said to them, “Children of the living God.”

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Ho 1:2–10.

The desert, often perceived as a realm of harsh existence and relentless struggle, initially presents a desolate landscape ravaged by the sun and devoid of apparent life. Humanity’s attempts to tame these arid regions have met with limited success, requiring significant transformation to render them habitable. Yet, beneath this rugged exterior lies an astonishing beauty, visible to those who learn to perceive it. The unique Joshua Trees, with their distinctive forms, enhance this beauty, while the desert sunsets paint the sky with incredible hues, and the absence of light pollution reveals the vast, star-studded expanse above. This duality of harshness and hidden beauty in the desert serves as a profound metaphor for humanity’s spiritual journey, mirroring our own capacity for both brokenness and divine transformation.

In the eyes of God, humanity often resembles this desert—capable of both harshness and profound beauty. When sin takes root, it devastates our inner lives and relationships, particularly our connection with God. Open rebellion signifies a rejection of the relationship God lovingly offers. This spiritual impurity is graphically portrayed in the Old Testament allegory of Hosea, whom the Lord commanded to “take to yourself a wife of whoredom and have children of whoredom, for the land commits great whoredom by forsaking the LORD.” Gomer, the “prostituting woman,” symbolized Israel’s deep entanglement in “religious promiscuity” and idol worship. The names of their children—Jezreel (“Bloodshed”), Lo-Ruhamah (“Unloved”), and Lo-Ammi (“Not My People”)—served as stark “message-names,” communicating God’s escalating judgment and rejection of His people due to their profound unholiness and covenant disloyalty. This vivid depiction underscores the urgent necessity for divine intervention to restore holiness.

Despite these severe pronouncements of judgment, the Book of Hosea consistently reveals God’s “unbroken love from a broken heart” and His “unqualified grace.” This divine love, described as “prevenient grace,” is an “unmotivated love at the heart of God’s nature, offered not because we deserve it.” The ultimate demonstration of this grace and the central mechanism for justification is the cross of Jesus Christ. At the cross, God judged Christ for humanity’s spiritual adultery, enabling a path back to being His family. The “day of Jezreel,” initially a symbol of bloodshed and judgment, can also refer to the cross, where Christ’s sacrifice led to a complete and enduring purging, from which flows healing and restoration for people from all nations. This profound act of love reverses the trajectory of judgment, offering a promise of future cleansing and renewal.

The ultimate fulfillment of the allegory’s promise of restoration and sanctification occurs through Jesus Christ and the formation of the Church. The prophecy that “in the very place where it was said to them, ‘You are not my people,’ it shall be said to them, ‘Children of the living God’” signifies a renewal of the fundamental covenant promise, extending beyond physical Israel to all who align themselves with Christ by faith. Lo-Ruhamah (“No Mercy”) is reversed to “My loved one,” symbolizing God’s renewed compassion and boundless mercy. Similarly, Jezreel, once synonymous with bloodshed and scattering, reverts to its original meaning of “God plants,” symbolizing God’s active intention to “plant His people in the land and they will flourish,” becoming an “abundant harvest field.” This collective transformation of identity and experience, brought about by God’s power and mercy, embodies the essence of sanctification and empowers the Church to live out the purpose of the cross.

God uses the allegory of Hosea to powerfully illustrate Israel’s rejection of Him through sin and the subsequent reversal of their divine identity. Just as sin causes us to exchange our true identity for a false one, God intervenes through Christ to redeem and restore us. Through faith in Christ, we embark on the path toward sanctification, empowered by the Holy Spirit to understand and fulfill the requirements of following Christ, thereby enabling the Church’s mission to spread the Gospel. God redeems and reclaims us from sin, restoring us into a relationship with the Almighty. While salvation comes through Christ alone, sanctification calls us to actively follow and embody the redeemed identity Christ has bestowed upon us. Like the desert, inherently beautiful because God created it, we too are called beautiful and His people, and through walking in faith and becoming sanctified, we strive to reclaim and live out these divine names.

From Hostility To Peace

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. 16 For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. 17 And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. 19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross. 21 And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, 22 he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, 23 if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, became a minister. 24 Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church, 25 of which I became a minister according to the stewardship from God that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known, 26 the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to his saints. 27 To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. 28 Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Colossians 1:15-28.

My least favorite word in the English language might actually be “actually.” The primary reason is that it often comes from the tongue of someone that is going to obnoxiously attempt to tell you that you are gravely mistaken in your understanding of some subject. Much of the discourse that is even remotely civil in the world today is full of these “actually statements” that try to get the better of an opponent or demonstrate that their knowledge base is better. Unfortunately, the church and many Christians fall into the trap of the “actually” and try to demonstrate that they have a moral or ethical authority because they follow Christ. To follow Christ requires humility and sincerity in our care for others, therefore there is no room for moral or authoritarian elitism when encountering the world. As stated in Colossians, the authority and moral high ground belongs to Christ alone, and we are to remember that it is Jesus that brought us from a hostile position with God into an everlasting peace.

Since Jesus created the Earth and everything in it, it would be meaningless for anyone to even begin to attempt to claim any sort of supremacy that would equal or even begin to rival His authority. Since Jesus spoke with humility, it would be ridiculous for any of us to try and speak to anyone with any sort of hubris or pride. Christ’s power extends beyond the known and seen, therefore there is a foreknowledge that exceeds even the most intelligent that have ever lived. Since Jesus existed before the beginning of the world, we owe everything to Him, and thus we must humbly submit to the absolute supremacy of Christ in our lives and in the world. While there may be some things that we might believe ourselves to be experts in, we must be humble even in that because Jesus knew before we even existed. Without the loving action and mind of Christ, we would be prone to chaotic thinking and living, because when we act out of pride, we are hostile to the mind of Christ. However, the great love of Christ transforms the hostility to peace through the power of the cross.

Christ fought to bring all humans to be reconciled back to God, and thus desires for the Church to remain unified unto itself. Therefore, it is antithetical for any member of the Church to demean or “other” any other member of the Church. For the Church is not only called to peace with God, but also peace with each other. Sin works its way among members of the Church through divisiveness and pride. When one part of the Church feels more important or full of a more desired position among the other parts of the Church it misses that without Christ the Church would still be in a hostile relationship with God. On the cross, Jesus humbly carries out His mission to unite the Church unto God, and no longer allows sin to separate us and divide us, but we must humbly follow and not be led astray. The Church’s mission in the world is to reflect the reconciliation offered by Christ among its different members and as such by its faith it will reflect the hope offered to the world through the Gospel. Through unity, the Church represents the ministry of Christ in the world.

The Gospel given to us was preached to every creature under heaven, signifying its universal appeal and divine origin, contrasting with the exclusiveness of the heretical teachings. Thus, there is no one that is not available to receive God’s Good News therefore we must share with the whole world. The calling upon all followers is to make all the mysteries of God known to the world, which would mean that we must also grow in our faith that we might familiarize ourselves with all of those mysteries. Thus, we must ensure that we work repeatedly to grow in knowledge of the scriptures, not to build our pride but to share it with everyone. Just as we were once hostile to God in sin, Jesus redeemed us, and called us to show those around us God’s peace that they might be pulled toward hope in the Gospel. Since God makes His glory known to us through Christ Jesus, it is our mission and responsibility to share that glory with the world. This ministry requires humility and for us to put on the mind of Christ to see how the world hurts, and work to bring reconciliation to the whole world, which leads to peace.

Peace comes at the cross, nothing we have done has led to God’s gracious act, therefore none of us have any reason to brag or “actually” anyone. Therefore it is important to remember that Christ leads with humility, that even though He was around at creation and all things were created by Him, through Him, and for Him, He still humbled Himself on the cross to bring us peace. All God’s blessings were presented to us even when we were openly hostile to God in our life of sin. Therefore, our need at this time is to work to stop being hostile to others, but rather present the Gospel through our living, working to be at peace with all people, especially those we have conflict with both inside and outside the Church. For this is what God sought to give us through Christ. Our world is a challenging place, there is temptation and chaos all around us, and most of us just want to be kind, or at the very least just live in peace. To follow Christ is more than just living in our peace bubble isolated, because just as Christ entered into the world to directly deal with our hostility, we too must engage and enter the world and face hostility to show peace as found in the Gospel, which means we must walk with people, and listen and show peace, which isn’t a confrontation, but “actually” a caring embrace.

The Call For Justice

1  God has taken his place in the divine council; in the midst of the gods he holds judgment: 2  “How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked? 3  Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. 4  Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.” 5  They have neither knowledge nor understanding, they walk about in darkness; all the foundations of the earth are shaken. 6  I said, “You are gods, sons of the Most High, all of you; 7  nevertheless, like men you shall die, and fall like any prince.” 8  Arise, O God, judge the earth; for you shall inherit all the nations! 

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Psalm 82.

In a world perpetually searching for answers and solutions, humanity often places its faith in various forms of earthly power, from influential individuals to fictional superheroes and even emerging technologies like artificial intelligence. Yet, a profound and consistent message echoes through spiritual teachings: true help and ultimate salvation emanate solely from a divine source. This perspective challenges us to abandon our misguided reliance on transient earthly saviors and instead embrace a higher calling—to pursue genuine justice and extend compassionate care to those in need, guided by divine principles.

Throughout history, humanity has grappled with the unknown, constructing intricate systems and deities to explain the inexplicable and provide comfort in uncertainty. From ancient pantheons to modern-day icons, the quest for a protector or a guiding force remains constant. However, as ancient texts reveal, there exists a singular God who judges the earth and claims dominion over all nations. This divine entity demands not blind worship, but active participation in upholding righteousness. Judges are admonished to cease favoring the wicked, to defend the vulnerable, and to rescue the weak and needy, underscoring that the pursuit of justice is not merely a human endeavor but a divine imperative.

Our contemporary society, much like those of antiquity, frequently turns to figures of immense power or fictional heroism for deliverance. We are drawn to the idea of a singular savior—be it a caped crusader, a charismatic leader, or even the promise of advanced AI—to solve our most pressing problems. This reliance, however, is ultimately misdirected. The narrative suggests that all such earthly sources of help are fallible and will inevitably disappoint. True salvation and enduring assistance, it posits, can only be found through unwavering faith in God. Those who usurp this divine role, whether people or constructs, are destined for judgment, highlighting the futility of placing ultimate trust in anything less than the divine.

The misguided pursuit of earthly saviors, whether they are superheroes or technological marvels, stems from a deep-seated human hubris—a desire to control and perfect the world through our own ingenuity. The creation of AI, for instance, driven by the noble intention to “save the world,” risks leading to destruction and injustice if not anchored by a profound connection to a higher power and moral compass. God’s call is clear: abandon these false idols and follow a path of active righteousness. This involves not only caring for the poor, the fatherless, the orphan, and the widow, but also recognizing that neglecting these fundamental duties will lead to societal and spiritual decay.

Ultimately, the divine summons humanity to open its eyes to the pervasive injustices of the world, to actively care for the marginalized, and to boldly cry out for justice on their behalf. This is not a passive expectation but an active mandate. We are reminded that we do not require superheroes or worldly power, for divine wisdom and strength empower us to be agents of justice in a world that God loves. By rejecting the allure of fleeting saviors and embracing the divine call to compassionate action, humanity can truly embody the principles of justice and find genuine salvation.

Remember Your Story

17 For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who is not partial and takes no bribe. 18 He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the sojourner, giving him food and clothing. 19 Love the sojourner, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt. 20 You shall fear the Lord your God. You shall serve him and hold fast to him, and by his name you shall swear. 21 He is your praise. He is your God, who has done for you these great and terrifying things that your eyes have seen.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Deuteronomy 10:17-21.

In the grand narrative of faith, God beckons us to remember our deeply personal stories of transformation and salvation. This remembrance is not merely an exercise in nostalgia, but a profound call to action, urging us to extend boundless love, unwavering care, and profound compassion to all, especially those most vulnerable amongst us. This outward expression of selfless love becomes a vivid reflection of God’s own intrinsic justice, boundless love, and immeasurable mercy. Just as He, in His divine sovereignty, champions the cause of the vulnerable and lovingly guided us even when we were lost and utterly undeserving, so too are we called to embody His character in our interactions with the world, ensuring that our lives echo the transformative power of His grace.

The story of American independence, with its resounding declaration of freedom from oppression, remarkably parallels the foundational themes of Christianity. Both narratives speak to a profound yearning for liberation, ultimately pointing to God’s inherent love for humanity. Yet, over time, the potent symbolism of the American independence movement—where individuals from all ages and backgrounds united against tyranny—has, in some ways, faded from our collective consciousness. Similarly, as Christians, our own story of faith is a powerful declaration of freedom from the enslavement of sin, a liberation secured through the boundless love of God manifested in Jesus Christ. This parallel serves as a powerful reminder that the fight for freedom, whether temporal or spiritual, is deeply rooted in divine love and a desire for human flourishing.

A critical challenge for believers is the tendency to lose sight of the profound significance of our spiritual awakening over time. Just as the Israelites were given the book of Deuteronomy, a divinely inspired reminder of how to live and govern their society after their exodus from Egypt, we too need constant recall to prevent our spiritual journey from becoming a forgotten tale. The longer we drift from the moment of our spiritual rebirth, the more susceptible we become to the distractions and temptations of the world, which can obscure the path God has laid out for us. To effectively remember our story, we must perpetually recall that its genesis lies with God, our inherent sinfulness, and His sovereign act of salvation that rescued us from ourselves.

Remembering our story is an exercise in profound humility and awe. It begins with acknowledging God as the source of all things, inspiring a deep reverence for His greatness and prompting a heartfelt response to His unwavering goodness. This remembrance also necessitates a stark confrontation with our own fallen nature, recognizing that despite our sin, God’s sovereignty reached out and saved us. Accepting Christ marks the beginning of a lifelong journey that demands continuous recommitment. The myriad distractions and temptations of life can easily cloud our spiritual vision, necessitating a constant rediscovery and reaffirmation of our devotion to Him.

Ultimately, to follow Christ is to actively emulate His compassion, His boundless love, and His selfless actions. The parable of the Good Samaritan serves as a poignant reminder of this divine imperative: God calls us to remember our personal stories of transformation and, in doing so, to extend care and love to those in need, rather than walking by in indifference like the priest. The church, as the collective body of Christ, must continually recall its humble beginnings and the transformative power of God’s love that brought it into existence. Only by genuinely remembering and internalizing this story can it truly reflect Jesus in its actions, extending His love and compassion to a world desperately in need.