Accurately Handling the Word of Truth

 Scripture regards Scripture as truth (John 17:17). The claim is that it is “God-breathed” and “adequate” to equip believers for “every good work” (2 Tim 3:16-17). It’s not trivial. It’s not peripheral. It’s not an instruction manual you can disregard if you want. It is God’s Word—authoritative, complete, accurate. Anyone who moves it away from that is moving it against God’s Word.

Here’s the thing. Even holding the Word in the highest esteem, it is possible to disagree. Honest, sincere, careful believers still disagree on things. This is confusing sometimes because others—less than entirely honest or sincere or careful or even believers—will also disagree, but not for the same reasons. But believers who are sincere and dedicated can still come to differing positions. Paul knew that and told Timothy, “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth” (2 Tim 2:15). It’s work. It’s important. It requires accuracy. (The King James’ “rightly dividing” doesn’t help.) Let’s look at an example.

Keith Green was a Christian musician in the late 70s and early 80s. He was eager to be true to God’s Word and often called out Christian failure to obey. He put his albums (back in the day when vinyl was our primary music source) in Christian bookstores with the caveat that “anyone who wants this and can’t afford it is allowed to have it free.” Green was an impressive musician and a dedicated believer. But … at times … he was mistaken in his theology. For instance, he understood that the difference between the sheep and the goats in the parable was “what they did and didn’t do.” He failed to notice the theological implications of such an interpretation, namely that it could make Christianity appear to be a works-based salvation, and the real difference between them was what they were and were not—sheep act one way; goats act a different way. Their actions revealed their true nature.

One of the other interesting positions Green took was on the Great Commission. At the end of his life (he died in a plane crash in 1982), he had begun a campaign to get Christians to go to the mission field. Keith Green believed the Great Commission's "go" was directed to all disciples, and that Christians should generally view themselves as available for missionary service unless God clearly directed them otherwise. The question was never “Am I called to go?” to him. He believed every Christian should plan to spend at least some time in cross-cultural or foreign missionary service sharing the gospel. I think that there is truth to his belief that all believers are called to be missionaries, but I think his understanding of “go” isn’t accurate … if you consider Scripture.

Jesus said “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations” (Matt 28:18-20). Green understood that to mean "Go somewhere." However, the Greek construction places the primary emphasis on "make disciples," and many interpreters understand the commission to mean "as you are going, make disciples." Not “go places for this purpose” but “do this while you go wherever you go.” We see this in the rest of the New Testament. The church commissioned people to go (e.g., Acts 13:1-3). There are specific people designated biblically as “evangelists” (Eph 4:11). In the church, some went, some sent, some supported, and some stayed. The church served as a body, doing different tasks to support the body and spread the gospel and make disciples, so that, in the end, every individual was part of the spread of the gospel either at home or out in the world. Jesus specifically commanded His disciples to be His witnesses “both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth” (Acts 1:8)—an ever-expanding range, beginning at home.

I believe, then, that a proper understanding of Scripture commands believers to be witnesses where God places them. We are to make disciples where we are. It should begin at home and go where God takes us. The world is a mission field, beginning with our homes and our neighbors and expanding to the farthest reaches. Some are called to go to the remotest parts and some are called to support them. Some are called to remain local and make disciples there. No one is called to do nothing about walking alongside others, bringing them the gospel, and teaching them to walk with Christ. That is not an option for any of us.

Make Disciples?

Biblical discipleship is far more than transferring information. Jesus did not tell His followers merely to preach, teach, or make converts. He commanded them to "make disciples" (Mat 28:19-20). A disciple is a learner, follower, and imitator. Biblical discipleship, therefore, is the intentional process of helping others follow Christ by teaching them God's Word, modeling obedience, encouraging spiritual growth, and helping them become disciple-makers themselves.

Jesus Himself is the pattern. He certainly preached to crowds, but He invested most deeply in a small group of disciples. They watched Him pray (Luke 11:1), heard Him teach, observed how He treated people, accompanied Him in ministry, and received correction when they failed. He taught them truth, but He also taught them how to live. At the end of the Great Commission, Jesus defined discipleship as teaching believers "to observe all that I commanded you" (Mat 28:20). The goal is not merely knowledge but obedience.

The Apostle Paul followed the same pattern. He could say, "Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ" (1 Cor 11:1). He not only instructed believers publicly but shared his life with them. To the Thessalonians he wrote, "We proved to be gentle among you, as a nursing mother tenderly cares for her own children... having so fond an affection for you, we were well-pleased to impart to you not only the gospel of God but also our own lives" (1 Thess 2:7-8). Discipleship involves relationship. Truth is taught, but it is also demonstrated.

Biblical discipleship includes teaching sound doctrine (2 Tim 3:16-17), encouraging spiritual disciplines such as prayer and meditation on Scripture (Acts 2:42), helping believers put sin to death and pursue holiness (Col 3:1-17), and equipping them for service within Christ's body (Eph 4:11-16). A mature disciple is not merely someone who knows biblical facts but someone whose life is increasingly conformed to Christ.

Perhaps the clearest picture of intentional discipleship is Paul's instruction to Timothy: "The things which you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, entrust these to faithful men who will be able to teach others also" (2 Tim 2:2). Notice the progression: Paul discipled Timothy, Timothy would disciple faithful men, and those faithful men would disciple others. Biblical discipleship is multiplication, not accumulation.

Ultimately, discipleship is helping another believer grow in knowing Christ, loving Christ, obeying Christ, and becoming more like Christ, while equipping that believer to do the same for others. It is truth taught, truth lived, and truth passed on. The measure of successful discipleship is not merely how much someone knows, but whether he increasingly reflects the character of Christ and helps others follow Him as well (Rom 8:29; Eph 4:13).

So ... my question. Have you been a disciple? Have you discipled? How is that working for you?

The Parable of the Billiard Ball

No, not one of Jesus’s parables. I just came up with the idea myself. Take it or leave it.

Life seems sometimes to be random to us. Things happen to us, not necessarily because of our own doing. Illnesses, disasters, deaths, irrational reactions from others, or ... you get the idea. Stuff happens. And we’re left trying to claw our way out of troubles not of our own doing … or, at least, not entirely. And we question God.

I would suggest that God is never out of the picture, never at a loss, never confused or surprised or worried. I would suggest that God is constantly guiding, directly or indirectly, everything that happens. He doesn't cause sin and we're still responsible for it, but He causes or allows everything for a purpose. So Paul says we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God (Rom 8:28-29). Nothing wasted. Nothing mistaken. And I came up with an illustration of what I mean.

Imagine with me a billiard table. There’s a cue ball and other balls. A player hits the cue ball to interact with the edges and the other balls in order to accomplish a goal, like “Three ball in the corner pocket.” Now, imagine you are the cue ball, a sentient orb sitting comfortably on the felt with all your felt needs met. (Yes, that was a little pun.) Suddenly an unknown entity smacks you in the back and you’re in motion, out of control. You roll … look out!! … into a bumper and bounce off in a brand-new direction. Another ball is in your path and you collide with it, sending both of you spinning off in different courses. This continues until you finally come to a rest. Only then can you evaluate what happened. Look! That other ball … actually went into a pocket in the corner, just as it was intended to. And … if you pay attention, you discover you’re sitting in just the right spot to line up another shot. And what appears to have been an entirely random set of events from the impact on your back to the end of the roll was actually a carefully planned sequence that produced expected results.

That is actually what our lives are like. Things happen. They often seem random. Sometimes they come without warning. Sometimes we can see them coming. Often there’s little we can do about them. And we feel helpless and even harmed. But Scripture says God never leaves us (Heb 13:5), but, instead, works all things after the counsel of His will in accordance with His purpose (Eph 1:11). So what appears to be a random and chaotic existence is a carefully, lovingly, and skillfully planned and executed sequence of events to get you and others exactly where He wants you to be. He uses apparently “random and chaotic” events to mold you and shape you and use you for His glory and your ultimate good.

So, I just have one question. Is that okay with you?

Another Look

In yesterday's look at the harmony of the gospels, we noted that the Parable of the Sower is one of the few parables that are included in all three synoptic gospels. That seems to make it more visible. Maybe we can take another look.

Parables are different than allegories or fables. The latter can be taken apart and examined for other meanings, other conclusions, other ramifications. A parable has a central point. The Parable of the Sower (Mat 13:3-23, Mark 4:3-20, Luke 8:4-15) has a central point, but Jesus's own explanation suggests that there are several important lessons surrounding that point.

It’s possible to pull ideas out that are not the main idea. For instance, the sower threw seed everywhere, suggesting we should do the same without regard for “the soil type.” Maybe. But there are other messages. The main point is that people's responses to God's Word differ because of the condition of their hearts. The seed is the same. The sower is the same. What varies is the soil.

Beyond that central truth, however, we can learn a number of additional things.

One important message is on the power of God’s Word. The focus is often on the soils, but the seed itself is remarkable. A tiny seed can produce an abundant harvest. God's Word has life-giving power within it (Isa 55:10-11; Heb 4:12; 1 Peter 1:23). The problem is never a deficiency in the seed.

Another clear point made is that faithful evangelism does not guarantee immediate results … in either direction. The sower scatters seed broadly and generously. Much of it appears wasted. Some appears useful … at first, then ends up not so useful. Yet the sower keeps sowing. This is encouraging to believers who share the gospel. We are responsible for sowing; God is responsible for the results (1 Cor 3:6-7).

There is an implied warning here: visible responses are not always genuine conversions. The rocky soil receives the word "with joy" but later falls away. Jesus teaches that an enthusiastic initial response is not necessarily evidence of genuine saving faith. Perseverance reveals the reality of faith (Mat 24:13; 1 John 2:19).

Another obvious warning is that the world can choke out growth. The thorny soil is particularly sobering because the plant actually grows. Jesus describes "the worries of the world and the deceitfulness of riches" choking fruitfulness (Mat 13:22). Not all spiritual dangers come through persecution. Prosperity, distraction, comfort, and busyness can be just as destructive.

Quite clearly, Christ wanted to tell us that the true evidence of a transformed heart is a transformed life—fruitfulness. The good soil produces fruit, though in differing amounts: thirty, sixty, or a hundredfold. Jesus does not demand identical results from every believer. What matters is genuine fruit, not equal fruitfulness (John 15:1-8).

It’s good to know that, although there are many disappointments, God’s kingdom still advances. At first glance, three soils produce disappointing outcomes and only one succeeds. Yet the final harvest is extraordinarily abundant. That reflects the growth of God's kingdom throughout history. The obstacles are real, but God's purposes ultimately prevail.

One lesson I find especially striking is that Jesus directs our attention inward. It is easy to ask, "Which soil describes other people?" But the parable challenges each of us to ask, "What kind of soil am I today?" Even genuine believers can allow worries, worldly concerns, or hardness of heart to hinder the fruitfulness God desires.

In that sense, the parable is not only about conversion. It is also about ongoing discipleship and the condition of our hearts whenever God's Word is sown into them.

The Harmony of the Gospels

I went to a private Christian school in my youth. One project we did in junior high was what is called “The Harmony of the Gospels.” They gave us each two books that contained the entire four gospels. (You need two for this.) We cut out stories from each gospel and put them in a column, then pasted the parallel story from the other gospels. We got to see the parallels, the overlaps, the retellings, and the unique texts. I was struck by the effect of the parallels because it seemed to be a form of emphasis. For instance, with the exception of the Resurrection, the only miracle what was told in all four accounts was the feeding of the 5,000. Jesus’s baptism, His entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, His betrayal by Judas along with His death and resurrection are all told in all accounts, to name a few. You can find claims in all four gospels that Jesus is the Messiah, Jesus is the Son of God, Jesus died for sinners, and that Jesus rose from the dead. These appear to be important.

The first three Gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, are called the Synoptic Gospels because they can be viewed "with the same eye." They often report the same events, sometimes in remarkably similar wording. John, on the other hand, is quite different in both content and style.

While exact percentages vary somewhat depending on how they're measured, the broad picture looks something like this:

• About 93% of Mark appears somewhere in Matthew or Luke.
• About half of Matthew is found elsewhere and half is unique.
• About half of Luke is found elsewhere and half is unique.
• John stands largely alone, with most of his material not found in the Synoptic Gospels.

There is material shared by all three Synoptics. These include:

• John the Baptist's ministry
• Jesus' baptism
• The temptation in the wilderness
• The feeding of the 5,000
• The Parable of the Sower
• Peter's confession of Christ
• The Transfiguration
• The Last Supper
• The arrest, trial, crucifixion, and resurrection

These events form much of the backbone of Jesus' public ministry.

On the other hand, Matthew alone gives us:

• The visit of the Magi
• The flight into Egypt
• The parable of the Ten Virgins
• The parable of the Sheep and Goats
• The temple tax coin in the fish's mouth

Matthew also contains many teaching sections aimed at showing Jesus as the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy.

Luke, on the other hand, uniquely records:

• The annunciation to Mary
• The shepherds at Jesus' birth
• Jesus at the temple at age twelve
• The Good Samaritan
• The Prodigal Son
• The Rich Man and Lazarus
• The ten lepers

Luke especially emphasizes God's compassion for outsiders, women, Gentiles, and the poor.

John is a standout. His gospel is a different style and message. John alone includes:

• The wedding at Cana
• Nicodemus
• The woman at the well
• The man born blind
• The raising of Lazarus
• The Upper Room Discourse (John 13-17)
• Most of the explicit "I Am" statements

John focuses less on parables and more on extended conversations and theological reflection.

What does this tell us?

One remarkable thing is that the Gospel writers seem less interested in providing a comprehensive biography of Jesus than in providing a trustworthy witness to who He is.

If you put the four Gospels together, there is overlap enough to confirm the core events from multiple witnesses, yet enough uniqueness to show that the writers were not merely copying one another wholesale. Each writer selected material for a particular purpose:

• Matthew presents Jesus as the promised Messiah and King.
• Mark presents Jesus as the Servant and Son of God.
• Luke presents Jesus as the Savior of all people.
• John presents Jesus as the eternal Son of God so that readers may believe (John 20:31).

In a way, the overlap gives us confidence in the historical core, while the unique material gives us a richer, fuller portrait of Christ than any single Gospel could provide. The Parable of the Sower appearing in Matthew, Mark, and Luke is a good example of a teaching that was evidently so important to the early church that all three writers chose to include it. In fact, Mark records Jesus saying, "Do you not understand this parable? How will you understand all the parables?" (Mark 4:13), suggesting that it may have been regarded as a foundational parable for understanding many of Jesus' teachings.

News Weakly - 11/7/2026

A Matter of Priorities
President Trump was deeply concerned about the midterm elections, all while juggling a war against Iran and other important things like renaming the Gulf of Mexico, Lake Ontario, and New Mexico. Now he’s getting stuff done, like … declaring the Oval Office a national monument. We thought he was interested in Making America Great Again, but it seems as if his priority has been to make his name known by branding buildings, hotels, and the John F. Kennedy Center for Performing Arts. Tell me again who he’s trying to make great again?

Speaking of Elections
In case you’ve been under a rock somewhere, there was an election here. The Democrats are currently holding 54 seats to the Republicans’ 44 in the Senate and 254 seats to the Republicans’ 162. Democrats are beating their chests and assuring us they’re going to put a choke hold on the president and stop him from doing tariffs and shooting at enemies … like they failed to do with Obama when he did the same thing. You know … partisan politics as usual achieved primarily by bluster.

Doing Their Part for Humanity
Russia continues its humanitarian efforts in Ukraine by bombing a school and an aid center in a southern Ukraine village. An obvious sinister plot against the people to provide them with education and supplies, the Russians stopped that threat to freedom.

Doing Their Part for the Environment
Singapore extended their Transboundary Haze Pollution Act by increasing penalties to those who cause more pollution. They plan to demand fines up to $20 million even in absentia to those who cause haze to hit Singapore … like the smoke from the fires in Indonesia. Because everyone knows “You can prevent forest fires.” Smokey said so.

From the Funnier Side
Governor Newsom of California commuted 548 death sentences to life in prison because he was pretty sure the legal system got it wrong (actual story). An undercover investigation discovered that the real reason was he wanted to make room for people caught using plastic straws. Now that is a threat to society. In politics, after this big win for Dems, they’re relieved they no longer have to pretend to be normal people anymore. Oh, the hardships. On the Republican side, they’re entirely at a loss as to why voters were mad at them. I mean, they haven’t done anything in the past two years … literally.

Must be true; I read it on the internet.

A Dirty Story

When Jesus told the parable of the sower, He described four kinds of soil: the hard path, the rocky ground, the thorn-infested ground, and the good soil (Mat 13:3-9, 18-23; Mark 4:3-20; Luke 8:4-15). It’s interesting to me that the text doesn’t seem to say how the soil got that way. Did they do it themselves? Did the sower do it? What strikes me is that Jesus spends very little time explaining how those soils became what they were. His emphasis is on how each soil responds to the seed, which He identifies as the Word of God. Yet when we consider the rest of Scripture, we can gain some insight into how these various soil conditions develop.

The hardened path pictures a heart that is resistant to God’s truth. Like a footpath that becomes packed down after being walked on repeatedly, a heart becomes hardened through continual unbelief and resistance to God. The writer of Hebrews warns believers repeatedly, “Do not harden your hearts” (Heb 3:8, 15), and cautions that “the deceitfulness of sin” can progressively harden a person (Heb 3:13). The seed falls on the path, but it never penetrates the surface because the heart has become calloused to God’s voice.

The rocky soil represents a person who receives the Word with enthusiasm but without depth. The issue is not the seed but the shallowness of the soil. There is just enough earth for an immediate response but not enough depth for lasting root growth. When hardship, persecution, or testing comes, the plant withers because the root system was never well established (Mat 13:20-21). This suggests a heart that has not been deeply broken up by genuine repentance and submission to God.

The thorny soil presents a different problem. Here the seed grows, but so do competing influences. Jesus identifies the thorns as “the worries of the world and the deceitfulness of riches” (Mat 13:22), while Luke adds “pleasures of this life” (Luke 8:14). The soil is productive enough for growth, but it has become crowded. The Word is not rejected outright; it is simply suffocated by rival affections and concerns until it becomes unfruitful.

The good soil raises the deeper question: how does a heart become good soil? Scripture holds two truths together. On one hand, God commands people to prepare their hearts. Through Jeremiah, He says, “Break up your fallow ground” (Jer 4:3), and Hosea gives the same exhortation (Hos 10:12). Human beings are responsible to repent, believe, and respond to God’s Word. On the other hand, Scripture teaches that God Himself must ultimately transform the heart. He promises, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you” (Eze 36:26). Jesus says that no one can come to Him unless the Father draws him (John 6:44), and Luke tells us that the Lord “opened” Lydia’s heart so that she responded to Paul’s message (Acts 16:14).

For that reason, I believe the parable is less concerned with explaining the origin of the soils than with revealing the condition of the heart when the Word of God arrives. The same seed is scattered everywhere, yet the results differ because the soils differ. The gospel does not create these conditions; it exposes them. A hardened heart is revealed by its rejection of the Word. A shallow heart is revealed by its temporary response. A divided heart is revealed by its competing loyalties. And a fruitful heart demonstrates the gracious work of God, who prepares the soil, grants understanding, and brings forth fruit. As Jesus later taught, “apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5), and as Paul wrote, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God was causing the growth” (1 Cor 3:6). In the end, any harvest that comes from good soil is a testimony not merely to the quality of the seed, but to the grace of the One who prepared the ground.

Made for More

Years ago (more than I care to think about) I tried my hand at music. I thought, “Why make songs up when there is so much good stuff in God’s Word?” So, I picked a psalm and put it to music. I didn’t rewrite it. I just took it as it was. Okay … Hebrew poetry doesn’t quite feel the same as modern poetry, but it went pretty well. I mean, very, very few people ever heard it, but I liked it.

It was from Psalm 113.

Praise the LORD!
Praise, O servants of the LORD,
Praise the name of the LORD. (Psa 113:1)

Not exactly deep theology, but really, really important. We are, in fact, built for praise.

Who is like the LORD our God,
Who is enthroned on high,
Who humbles Himself to behold
The things that are in heaven and in the earth? (Psa 113:5-6)

This was a little hard to break down in my mind. Those “who” phrases were tough. “Who is like the LORD our God?” Since “God” is the point here, the “who” there doesn’t refer to Him. It revers to anyone. “What human is like the LORD our God?” But the other “whos” don’t refer to that “whoever” person. They refer to God. He is the one who is enthroned on high. He is the one who “humbles Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and earth.” And did you catch that? The author of this psalm believes that it takes humility for God to notice creation. We are beneath Him. And He graciously humbles Himself to take notice.

When the Pharisees told Jesus to silence His disciples, He said, “I tell you, if these become silent, the stones will cry out!” (Luke 19:40). That’s all the psalmist is asking. Be like a good stone and praise the Lord. Be amazed that He even notices us, because He doesn’t have to.

The Bloody Truth

Years ago when I was a worship leader, one of the pastors came to me and said, “You need to tone down the whole ‘blood’ thing.” We had sung Nothing But the Blood of Jesus and he told me it upset those who had come out of Satan worship. I had to disagree.

When you trace the theme of blood through Scripture, it becomes clear that God is teaching a single, consistent truth from Genesis to Revelation: sinners can only be reconciled to a holy God through a sacrificial death. The Bible does not present Christ’s blood as a theological afterthought that appears in the New Testament. Rather, from the earliest pages of Scripture, God is preparing His people to understand the necessity of substitution, sacrifice, and ultimately the shedding of blood for the forgiveness of sins.

The first hint appears immediately after the fall. Adam and Eve sinned, realized their nakedness, and attempted to cover themselves with fig leaves. Yet God replaced their inadequate covering with “garments of skin” (Gen 3:21). While the text does not explicitly mention blood, an animal had to die for that covering to be provided. Even here we find a picture that will echo throughout Scripture: human effort cannot adequately cover sin, but God provides a covering through the death of another.

The principle becomes clearer in the next generation. Abel offered to God “the firstborn of his flock and of their fat portions” (Gen 4:4), a sacrifice involving the death of an animal, and the Lord regarded Abel and his offering with favor. The writer of Hebrews later tells us that “by faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain” (Heb 11:4). Already God is distinguishing between mere religious activity and an approach to Him that comes according to His appointed means.

The theme expands dramatically in the Passover. On the night God judged Egypt, Israel was commanded to kill an unblemished lamb and place its blood on the doorposts and lintel of the house. God’s promise was simple and profound: “When I see the blood, I will pass over you” (Exo 12:13). The Israelites were not spared because they were more righteous than the Egyptians. They were spared because they stood under the protection of the blood. Centuries later, Paul would identify Christ as the fulfillment of that picture, writing, “For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed” (1 Cor 5:7).

Under the Mosaic Law, blood became the central element of Israel’s sacrificial system. Animals were offered daily, monthly, yearly, and on special occasions to make atonement for sin. The foundational explanation is found in Leviticus 17:11: “For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls.” God explicitly states that He Himself appointed blood as the means by which atonement would be made. This was not man’s idea. It was God’s provision.

The Day of Atonement in Leviticus 16 further emphasized this truth. Once each year the high priest entered the Most Holy Place carrying sacrificial blood to make atonement for the sins of the nation. Yet these sacrifices had to be repeated year after year because they could never permanently remove sin. They pointed beyond themselves to a greater sacrifice yet to come.

The prophets continued to develop this expectation. Isaiah described a coming Servant who would bear the sins of His people. “He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” (Isa 53:5). “The LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Isa 53:6). Isaiah presents a substitute who suffers in the place of sinners, foreshadowing the sacrifice of Christ.

When Jesus arrived, John the Baptist immediately identified Him with this long history of sacrificial imagery. Seeing Jesus, he declared, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29). Every Passover lamb, every sacrifice on every altar, every ceremony performed by every priest was pointing forward to this One.

At the Last Supper, Jesus explicitly interpreted His approaching death in terms of sacrificial blood. Holding the cup, He said, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Mat 26:28). The forgiveness promised throughout Scripture would be accomplished through His blood.

After the cross, the apostles repeatedly explained salvation in those terms. Paul writes, “Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God” (Rom 5:9). He tells the Ephesians, “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses” (Eph 1:7). He tells the Colossians that God has reconciled sinners to Himself, “making peace by the blood of his cross” (Col 1:20). In each case, Christ’s blood is presented as the means by which God justly forgives sinners while remaining perfectly holy.

The book of Hebrews perhaps states the matter most directly. Looking back over the entire sacrificial system, the author concludes, “Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Heb 9:22). He explains that the blood of bulls and goats was never the ultimate solution. Rather, Christ entered the heavenly holy place “by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption” (Heb 9:12). Unlike the priests who offered sacrifices repeatedly, Christ “offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins” (Heb 10:12).

Peter echoes the same truth, reminding believers that they were not redeemed with silver or gold but “with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot” (1 Peter 1:18-19). John adds that “the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:7).

The story culminates in Revelation, where heaven itself celebrates the saving power of Christ’s sacrifice. The redeemed sing to the Lamb, “for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev 5:9). Later we are told that believers overcome Satan “by the blood of the Lamb” (Rev 12:11).

Taken together, these passages reveal a single scarlet thread running through the entire Bible. It’s not trivial. It’s not a matter of opinion. It’s not simply human tradition. From the garments of skin in Eden, to Abel’s sacrifice, to the Passover lamb, to the blood on Israel’s altars, to Isaiah’s suffering Servant, to the Lamb of God hanging on Calvary, Scripture consistently teaches that forgiveness and reconciliation come through a substitute who dies in the place of sinners. The Old Testament anticipated it. The New Testament announces its fulfillment. As Hebrews declares, “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Heb 9:22), and as John rejoices, “the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:7). Jesus, at that last Passover, commanded we remember His shed blood forever (1 Cor 11:24-25). That is the Bible’s testimony from beginning to end.

The Framing of a Commission

When most Christians think of the Great Commission, we tend to think primarily in terms of evangelism. We hear Jesus’ words in Matthew 28:18-20 and focus on the command to “go.” Certainly, sharing the gospel is part of what Jesus is commanding, but the commission itself is far broader and deeper than merely making converts. The actual command is to make disciples, and that distinction matters.

What strikes me is how Jesus frames the entire commission. He does not begin with the command itself. Instead, He begins by declaring, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth” (Mat 28:18). Only then does He say, “Go therefore.” That word “therefore” connects everything that follows to His authority. In other words, the church does not go because it has a good message, a noble cause, or a worthy mission. We go because the risen Christ is the rightful King of heaven and earth. The mission rests on His authority, not ours.

This opening declaration also reminds us that Jesus is not presenting suggestions. He is issuing commands as the sovereign Lord. His authority extends over every nation, every ruler, every people group, and every individual. The disciples were being sent into the world as representatives of the King. Their confidence was not to be found in their abilities, resources, education, or influence, but in the fact that Christ reigns.

When we look carefully at the commission itself, the central command is to “make disciples.” The accompanying actions explain how that is accomplished. We make disciples by going, by baptizing, and by teaching. Going reminds us that the gospel is meant for all nations and all peoples. Baptizing identifies believers publicly with Christ and with His church. It is not merely a private faith but an open declaration of allegiance to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Then there is the command to teach. This may be the aspect we overlook most often. Jesus did not simply say, “Teach them all that I commanded you.” He said, “Teaching them to observe all that I commanded you” (Mat 28:20). The goal is not merely knowledge but obedience. A disciple is not someone who merely learns facts about Christ. A disciple is someone who follows Christ. The church’s responsibility, therefore, does not end when someone professes faith. In many ways, that is only the beginning. We are called to help believers grow in understanding, holiness, obedience, worship, prayer, love, and Christlikeness throughout their lives.

I also find it interesting how often the word “all” appears in this passage. Jesus possesses “all authority.” The mission extends to “all nations.” Disciples are to be taught “all” that He commanded. And His presence continues “always.” There is a completeness and comprehensiveness to His kingdom work. Nothing is outside His authority, no people are outside the scope of His mission, and no aspect of Christian obedience is outside the scope of His teaching.

Finally, Jesus closes with a promise: “And lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Mat 28:20). That promise is not an afterthought. It is essential. The task He has assigned is far beyond human ability. No group of ordinary men and women could ever hope to make disciples of all nations and teach them to obey everything Christ commanded. Left to ourselves, the commission would be impossible.

But the same Lord who possesses all authority also promises His continual presence. The disciples had walked with Jesus for years and were about to watch Him ascend into heaven. They might naturally have wondered how they could possibly carry on without Him. His answer was not merely that He would help them. His answer was that He would be with them. Through the ministry of the Holy Spirit, Christ remains present with His people throughout the entire age.

The more I think about it, the more I see that the Great Commission is framed by two great realities: Christ’s authority and Christ’s presence. Because He has all authority, we go. Because He is always with us, we can go with confidence. The church’s mission is not simply to gain converts, but to make disciples who follow Christ, obey Christ, and grow in Christ. And the entire work rests securely between the authority of the King and the presence of the King until the day He returns.

Signs of the Times

I’ve written about this before, but it just keeps coming up. Signs … sometimes they just baffle me. They’re trying to tell me something significant (Get it? “Signs” … “significant” … never mind.) but I just seem to get bogged down in their content.

Like, “No Right Turn.” That seems to be a requirement that I turn the wrong way. Why would that be a rule? Why can’t I turn the RIGHT way? I understand “No Left Turn” because there are places we just don’t want liberals to go.

I saw a sign at the entrance to a university campus that read, “Observe All Signs.” Exactly what does that mean? I mean, there are signs I cannot see. MUST NOT see. Like signs in restricted areas or the women’s bathroom for instance. And it doesn’t say, “Obey All Signs.” So I’m supposed to search the campus—“There’s a sign. There’s a sign. There’s a sign.” What good is that?

One time I came to work (back when I was working) on a Monday morning. One wall of the cubicle offices had signs stuck on it, all the same: “Wet Paint.” I’m scratching my head. What did they want me to wet the paint with? And why would they want me to get it wet? That didn’t make sense, so I looked closer. In fine print, it added, “Painted with pride by the maintenance department.” Curioser and curioser.

“Painted with pride by the maintenance department,” eh? Me? I would have used paint, but not them. They used … pride. Strange. Then it occurred to me. The wall was white. They painted the wall with white pride. And it only got stranger when I realized most of the maintenance department was Hispanic. What kind of crazy …?

The sign I saw the other day—the sign that started me thinking about this topic—was a sign on a vending machine. You’ve seen them. “Out of Order.” Now, if there are two machines and they both have that sign, that makes some sense. I mean … switch their locations and they should be in the right order. But this was one machine. And it occurred to me that there must be some Master Map that lays out where every machine goes. That means that somewhere else there was an identical machine that had an identical sign that was not in the right place. What a pain! Worse, I saw the sign on a bathroom door!! Now, how did a bathroom get in the wrong place? And how do they correct that error? You can’t exactly swap bathrooms.

All in fun, of course, but perhaps illustrative of the problem of language that we neglect too often … myself included.

Truly, Truly

Scripture writers didn’t have nice printers that produce printouts with italics or bold print, so they had to come up with other methods of emphasis. For instance, we read that God is “Holy, holy, holy” … twice (Isa 6:3; Rev 4:8). Biblical scholars suggest that’s like “holy, holier, holiest.” Repetition for emphasis. When Isaiah wrote, “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You” (Isa 26:3), he actually used “shalom” twice—”peace, peace”—to emphasize the depth of that peace. Repetition for emphasis. When the four kings fought the five kings in Genesis (Gen 14:5-11), the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah, it says, fell into some pits (Gen 14:10). The translation is hazy. Some say “slimepits” and some say “bitumen pits” and some say “tar pits” and one says “great pits.” What's wrong with these translators? Is it that hard? Actually, yes. The author used the word for “pit” (בְּאֵר-beer) twice. The idea was “These were some really pitty pits.” Repetition for emphasis. One other famous repetition was Jesus’s repeated “Truly, truly” (John 1:51; 3:3, 5, 11; 5:19, 24, 25; etc.) He says the phrase 25 times in John’s Gospel. Jesus was making the point that what He was speaking was absolutely true.

One of the defining characteristics of our age is the tendency to place the subject above the object. In other words, we increasingly view truth through the lens of the observer rather than through the thing being observed. That shift may seem subtle, but it has enormous consequences for how we think about reality, morality, and even God.

The distinction between objective and subjective truth can be understood by considering the relationship between the subject and the object. The subject is the person who perceives, thinks, feels, or believes. The object is the thing being considered. When discussing truth, the question becomes this: Does truth arise from the object itself, or does it arise from the subject's perception of the object?

Objective truth is truth that is determined by the object. It exists independent of what any particular subject thinks, feels, or wishes to be true. If a statement corresponds to reality, it is true whether anyone believes it or not. The earth either orbits the sun or it does not. Gravity either exists or it does not. These things are not made true by popular opinion, personal preference, or sincere conviction. The responsibility of the subject is not to create truth but to discover it and conform to it.

Subjective truth, by contrast, is dependent upon the subject. It concerns personal perspectives, experiences, preferences, and feelings. One person may enjoy chocolate ice cream more than vanilla while another prefers vanilla. Both statements can be true because they are descriptions of personal experience rather than descriptions of objective reality. The truth claim is rooted in the subject rather than the object.

Confusion arises when subjective categories are extended into areas where objective truth is required. Preferences, tastes, and personal experiences are properly subjective. Mathematics, history, science, and theology are not. If two people disagree about their favorite color, both can be right. If two people disagree about whether Jesus rose from the dead, both cannot be right. The resurrection is either an objective event that occurred in history or it is not. Its truthfulness is determined by the reality of the event itself, not by the opinions of those considering it.

The biblical worldview consistently treats truth as objective. Scripture presents truth as something external to us, not something generated by us. We are not the source of truth; we are accountable to it. Jesus did not say that He had discovered a truth that worked for Him. He declared, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). Likewise, in His prayer to the Father, He said, “Your word is truth” (John 17:17). Truth exists because God exists. It is grounded in His character and revealed through His Word.

Ultimately, the debate over objective and subjective truth is really a debate over whether the subject or the object has the final authority. Objective truth says that reality determines what is true and that our task is to align our beliefs with reality. Subjective truth says that the individual's perspective determines what is true. The former requires humility because it acknowledges that we may be wrong. The latter is appealing because it places the individual at the center. Yet if truth changes from one subject to another, truth ceases to have any meaningful authority. Real truth must be objective. It must stand outside of us, confront us, correct us, and remain true whether we accept it or not. From a biblical perspective, that is precisely the kind of truth God has revealed.

News Weakly - 10/31/2026

The Latest Weapon
In Kenya, at least 22 people were killed and another 24 injured when a bus and a truck collided. Sadly, most of the passengers were returning from a funeral. In Spain, another 83 people were injured when a bus plunged down a 65-foot hillside after colliding with a car. Given the two incidents, nations are now moving for “bus control” to make it safer for us all. Or not.

One Way to Win
California Governor Newsom is pushing Prop 4 in California to “eliminate private big money in California elections.” How does it eliminate private money? By making taxpayers pay for the candidates’ campaigns. So, the taxpayers will pay for the campaigns and, whoever wins, the taxpayers will have won and … very likely most of them will have supported, through their tax dollars, policies and people they didn’t want. Nice.

Blame Where Blame is Due
Israel bombed Gaza, killing two Palestinians (terrorists, according to Israel) and a child. Sixty Christians in Ethiopia were killed in two “brutal and merciless massacres” by the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA). Oil prices jumped 2% this week because of the Houthi-Saudi conflict. Clearly the blame lies in the problem of global climate change. If we could just get that under control, everyone would be nice to each other.

And Now for Something Completely Different
From the Babylon Bee, we read that Minnesota is excited because they’re expecting voter turnout to be over 130% for the midterms. Very impressive. We learned this week of the sad passing of a beloved headmaster for gifted youngsters this week. Charles Xavier, the headmaster of Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters, died at 86 years old. Oh … wait … he looks a lot like Patrick Stewart, doesn’t he? Finally, Congresswoman Ilhan Omar reportedly held a lengthy phone call with former President Barack Obama asking for the phone number for his “birth certificate guy.” She was hoping to get some help on some immigration thing she’s facing? I don't know.

Must be true; I read it on the internet.

Halloween Again

Halloween is coming, a time of parties and costumes and a time of dark thoughts and scary ideas. I was leading a Bible study in the early 2000s at the house of a coworker. Halloween was around the corner and we were discussing it. The coworker expressed how dangerous he thought Halloween was. I probed for more information. In his mind—in his words—Satan owned October 31st, so it was an intrinsically evil evening, and we shouldn’t recognize it in any way. This wasn’t 1700 or 1800. It was the 2000’s. He held this view in modern times. Is there any credence to it?

Satan is biblically a reality and any attempt to deny it takes a lot of work. But just how powerful is Satan in Scripture? He’s depicted as a serpent in the Garden of Eden and tempts Eve and Adam into sin (Gen 3:1-6). But he’s also depicted as defeated there (Gen 3:14-15). His name means “adversary” or “accuser” and he’s called “the accuser of our brethren,” but is immediately described as “thrown down” (Rev 12:10). Jesus called him “A murderer from the beginning” and said, “There is no truth in him” (John 8:44). Isaiah 14:12-15 and Ezekiel 28:12-17 are often understood as containing imagery associated with Satan's fall. He deceives (Gen 3:1), tempts (Matt 4:1-11), and hinders (1 Thess 2:18). But he is not all-powerful. He is contained.

In the famous story of Job, where Satan takes everything Job has—wealth, family, ultimately his health—Satan is depicted as … controlled. God calls attention to Job's faithful service and limits Satan's ability to test him (Job 1:6-12; 2:1-6). Likewise, in 1 Kings 22 and 2 Chronicles 18, King Ahab of Israel asks King Jehoshaphat of Judah to join him in battle. When the prophet Micaiah is consulted, he reveals that "YHWH has put a deceiving spirit in the mouth of all these your prophets." Even rebellious spiritual beings operate only within God's sovereign authority. What evil intends for evil, God remains able to direct toward His righteous purposes.

What, then? We’re warned that Satan is like a “roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8), so we should be sober and alert. We must resist him (James 4:7). We need to stand firm in the faith (1 Peter 5:9). We have to “put on the whole armor of God” (Eph 6:10-18). He’s very real and very dangerous and shouldn’t be taken lightly.

The bottom line is that Scripture repeatedly declares that God is sovereign over all (e.g., Psa 115:3; Isa 45:7; Job 1:21; Luke 22:31; Matt 28:18; Php 2:9-11). If Satan rules for one night, then God is not over all and Scripture can’t be trusted. But John wrote, “Greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world” (1 John 4:4). He wrote, “We know that no one who is born of God sins; but He who was born of God keeps him, and the evil one does not touch him” (1 John 5:18). So Satan is powerful and opposed to God, but he isn’t in charge and he isn’t out of control and he doesn’t win. Not even on Halloween.

Happy All The Day?

I love Isaac Watts hymns. They're clever and theological and ... mostly correct. One I have a small problem with is At the Cross. He says it was at the cross where he, by faith received his sight, "And now I am happy all the day!" Really?

One of the subtle distinctions that often gets lost in modern Christianity is the difference between happiness, blessedness, and joy. We tend to use the words interchangeably, but Scripture uses them in very different ways. Understanding those differences helps make sense of passages that might otherwise seem confusing, especially Jesus' words in the Beatitudes.

When most people speak of happiness, they are referring to an emotional response to favorable circumstances. We are happy when life is going well, our health is good, our relationships are thriving, and our plans are succeeding. There is nothing inherently wrong with happiness. It is one of God's good gifts. Solomon acknowledged that it is God's gift for a man to enjoy the fruit of his labor (Ecc 3:12-13). The problem is that happiness is often tied to conditions that can change overnight. What circumstances give, circumstances can also take away.

Blessedness, on the other hand, is not primarily an emotion. It is a condition of standing in God's favor. This becomes especially clear in the Beatitudes. When Jesus says, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Mat 5:3), He is not saying that the poor in spirit are necessarily happy. A person who has come face to face with his own spiritual bankruptcy may feel profound conviction and sorrow. Yet Jesus says such a person is blessed because God's favor rests upon him and the kingdom belongs to him.

The same pattern runs throughout the Beatitudes. "Blessed are those who mourn" (Mat 5:4). Mourning itself is not pleasant. Jesus is not calling grief a happy experience. He is declaring that those who mourn are recipients of God's favor because "they shall be comforted." Likewise, "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake" (Mat 5:10). There is nothing enjoyable about persecution, yet those who endure it for Christ's sake are blessed because "theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

The world's definition of blessedness focuses on comfort, prosperity, power, and success. Jesus turns that idea upside down. In effect, He is saying, "God's favor rests upon these people," even when their circumstances appear difficult from an earthly perspective.

Joy is something different yet again. Joy is the inward gladness that arises from knowing God and trusting His promises. Unlike happiness, joy is not dependent upon favorable circumstances. Unlike blessedness, joy is an experience rather than a standing. Joy grows out of the confidence that we belong to God and that His purposes cannot fail.

That is why Paul could command believers to "Rejoice in the Lord always" (Php 4:4) while writing from prison. His circumstances were hardly pleasant, but his joy was rooted in Christ rather than his surroundings. Peter likewise speaks of believers who "rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory" even though they were enduring trials (1 Peter 1:8).

Perhaps the clearest statement comes from Paul's description of Christian ministry:

"sorrowful, yet always rejoicing" (2 Cor 6:10).

The world struggles to make sense of that. How can someone be sorrowful and rejoicing at the same time? The answer is that happiness and joy are not the same thing. A believer may not be happy about a cancer diagnosis, the loss of a loved one, or some other painful providence. Yet he can still possess joy because he knows the God who holds all things in His hands. He can still rest in the promises of Christ and trust that nothing comes into his life apart from the Father's wise and loving purpose.

So when Jesus says, "Blessed are those who..." He is not merely saying, "Happy are those who..." He is saying something far deeper. He is declaring that these are the people upon whom God's favor rests. Their circumstances may be difficult. Their emotions may fluctuate. Yet they are recipients of divine grace and heirs of divine promises.

In the end, happiness is largely connected to what is happening around me. Blessedness describes my standing before God. Joy is the settled gladness that flows from knowing that, through Christ, I stand in God's favor. That is why a Christian can be blessed even when he is not happy, and can possess joy even in the midst of sorrow. The Beatitudes are not promises of perpetual happiness. They are declarations of God's favor upon those who belong to Him, and from that assurance springs a joy that circumstances can never fully extinguish.

Deserve?

Singer Lauren Daigle sings a song titled Love Like This. It explores the idea of the awe of being loved unconditionally by God. In the song, she repeats the question, “What have I done to deserve love like this?” And I think of McDonald’s “You deserve a break today” commercials. We all deserve better, don’t we?

We live in a “deserve” world. I guess you might call it a “meritocracy.” It seems it has always been that way. When Job received all that Satan could dish out, his friends assumed he had done something wrong, because you don’t get this kind of torment for being good. If you’re good, you deserve better. When Pilate killed some Galileans and mixed their blood with their sacrifice, the people thought it must have been because they did something bad (Luke 13:1-5), because bad things aren’t supposed to happen to good people.

I understand that the point of Daigle’s song is not “I deserve to be loved,” but the opposite. But we tend to think that, don’t we? When something bad happens, we think, “I deserve better.” When something good happens we become “Maria von Trapp”—“I must have done something good.” Because “deserve” drives everything. Or does it?

The truth is that we do not deserve God’s love. We’ve done everything we could to forfeit any claim to worthiness. Scripture calls us “sinners” and “enemies” of God (Rom 5:8, 10). We’re naturally hostile toward God (Rom 8:7). If God had a “naughty and nice” list, we wouldn’t be on the “nice” list. In terms of being loved by God, “deserve” has nothing to do with it.

But that’s just one of the things that makes the good news of the gospel so good. No, we don’t deserve it, but “God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). We’ve earned judgment and are given mercy. We’ve earned no good will from God and we’re given grace. Sometimes we’re so used to God’s goodness that we miss how truly big it is.

Encouragement

Peter wrote, “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing were happening to you; but to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing, so that also at the revelation of His glory you may rejoice with exultation” (1 Peter 4:12-13). Now that’s a little disturbing, isn’t it?

In our lives as believers, we have certain wonderful promises. We have all the heavenly blessings (Eph 1:3). We have the forgiveness of sins (Eph 1:7). We have eternal life (John 5:24). So many great promises. But there is another that most of us aren’t really happy about. It’s that “fiery ordeal” Peter wrote about. Jesus said, “You will be hated by all because of My name” (Luke 21:17). Paul said, “To you it has been granted for Christ's sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake” (Php 1:29). So don’t be surprised.

Here’s the thing. This promise is not nearly as bad as it sounds. In fact, Paul spoke of “tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword” and quoted Psalm 44 about how we are “being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered” (Rom 8:35-36). He concluded, “In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us” (Rom 8:37). Not “in spite of” or “after we have endured” or “as long as we bear it.” The word was “in.” In the midst of the pain we are promised, we are more than conquerors.

I remember The Jesus Person Pocket Promise Book, a list of promises we are given—heartwarming, encouraging, true stuff. For some reason, “tribulations and trials” aren’t included. Don’t let that throw you. We are promised trials, but always for our best (Rom 8:28-29) and always under His care and control. We are promised to be “more than conquerors” in them and benefit from them (Rom 5:3-5; James 1:2-4). Those are some good promises to remember so you won’t need to be surprised and you won’t have to be discouraged.

When You Pray

Prayer is one of those things that every Christian talks about, yet many of us struggle to understand what it really is. We often treat it as an emergency hotline, something we reach for when life falls apart. But when I read Scripture, I see something much deeper. Prayer is not primarily about getting things from God. It is about walking with Him.

Jesus assumed His followers would pray. He spoke of when you pray, not if you pray (Mat 6:5-7). Prayer is simply the ongoing conversation between a child and his Father. It is where faith stops being a theology and becomes a relationship.

Jesus taught a parable about a very specific part of prayer.

He was telling them a parable to show that at all times they ought to pray and not to lose heart. (Luke 18:1)

An entire parable built with a singular message—pray at all times and don’t lose heart in it. Jesus thought that was important. Do we?

What strikes me most is that prayer begins with dependence. Jesus said, "apart from Me you can do nothing" (John 15:5). Every time I pray, I am acknowledging that reality. I am admitting that my wisdom is limited, my strength is insufficient, and my perspective is incomplete. Prayer is where self-reliance gives way to God-reliance.

Jesus also taught us to pray, "Your kingdom come, your will be done" (Mat 6:10). That reminds me that prayer is not about persuading God to join my plans. It is about aligning my heart with His. Like Jesus in Gethsemane, true prayer ultimately says, "Not my will, but Yours be done" (Mat 26:39).

In the end, prayer is less about changing circumstances and more about drawing near to God. It is where worries are exchanged for trust, guilt for forgiveness, and self-sufficiency for dependence. No wonder Paul could simply say, "Pray without ceasing" (1 Thess 5:17). Prayer is not merely something Christians do. It is one of the primary ways we live in fellowship with the God who loves us.

Love Like That

In the upper room that last Passover that Jesus celebrated with His disciples, He had a lot to say. One important thing He said was this:

"This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:12-13)

In today’s world with a thorough misunderstanding of the biblical concept of love and, perhaps, our problem of cursory reading, it’s easy to miss what He said. “Yeah, yeah … love each other. Got it.” Yes, but not quite.

Jesus gave them a new commandment. “Love one another.” In that discourse alone, He said it three times. He made it clear that He wasn’t talking about the normal “love one another” where the standard is “as you love yourself.” He qualified it with “just as I have loved you” (John 15:12). This love was something more than our normal version. In fact, Jesus called it the most telling indication that they were His disciples (John 13:35). It is not just “be nice to each other.” It’s more.

What more? Jesus said, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another” (John 13:34). “As I have loved you.” He answers that same question a little more clearly in that passage in John 15. “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” What, then, is He saying? “I am commanding you to love one another by dying to self for each other.” (See 1 John 3:16-17.) Because He was on the cusp of laying down His life for them.

Christians through most of church history have taken this command seriously. The author of Hebrews describes how those Christians “showed sympathy to the prisoners and accepted joyfully the seizure of your property, knowing that you have for yourselves a better possession and a lasting one” (Heb 10:34). They lost their own property while they went to aid prisoners. In the early church, they sold their belongings to take care of each other (Acts 4:32-35). During times of persecution they willingly died not only for Christ, but also for each other. They ministered to fellow believers during times of major epidemics without regard for their own lives. In Communist countries, they accepted punishments for weaker prisoners. Their detractors would comment, “They know how to love each other.” Church history is rich in this tradition of loving in that way.

Jesus didn’t necessarily mean just dying, either. He meant dying to self (Php 2:5-8). He meant precisely the opposite of today’s “looking out for number one” mentality, the “what’s in it for me” idea. These believers, following Christ's example, put the interests of others ahead of their own (Php 2:3-4). That is radical in today’s world. It also seems less visible than it used to be among believers. It’s not about martyrdom, but about self-sacrifice.

Jesus said, “By this all men will know that you are My disciples.” By what? The kind of love that lays down its life for others. Like He did. How are we doing? Are we living examples of Christ’s self-sacrifice for the best interest of others? I have to say I’m not what I ought to be in that area. To my own shame.

News Weakly - 10/24/2026

Unclear on the Concept
President Trump is at it again. He wants to rename “New Mexico” to “New America.” I think he’s missing the point. We have “New York” and “New Jersey” and “New Hampshire.” They’re named for York and Jersey and Hampshire ... England. They were created as a link with their namesakes, but as distinct and even superior. Why is “Mexico” offensive to the president but York and Jersey and Hampshire not? Hey, we could save time and just name them all “New America.” No, that won’t work. It’s not really new, is it? Oh, I know ... how about something crazy like “The United States of America”? I know ... that won’t work either. False advertising in this not-so-united country. Some people just don't seem to understand that naming something "New" whatever means it is not "Old" whatever.

Not All News is Bad News
In Minnesota this week, a 27-year-old man jumped onto a runaway bus with a driver suffering a medical emergency and saved nearly 20 kids from possible disaster. “I really felt like it was my duty,” he told one news outlet. Good job, man. Not every news item is bad news, right? Giving credit where credit is due.

When Feelings Trump Science
The Supreme Court rejected President Trump’s attempt to restrict “gender-affirming care” for transgender inmates in federal prisons. The court gave no explanation for the decision, leaving me to wonder exactly what there is in the Constitution about “gender-affirming care.” Currently, then, your tax dollars are paying for self-identified “transgender” people in prisons to receive hormone treatments, surgery, and “social accommodations” (like clothing, hair-removal devices, wigs, binders, etc.) for “gender dysphoria” which, from the rational viewpoint, would be better addressed by fixing it rather than encouraging it.

Short one today. Sorry.

By Design

I still remember something my first-semester biology professor told the class. “You will likely see a lot of things in this class that look like design. Just remember, just because it looks like design doesn’t mean it is.” Whether one ultimately agrees with his conclusion or not, he was acknowledging something important: living things often do look designed. The appearance is not subtle. In many cases, it is difficult to study biology for very long without being struck by the extraordinary coordination of life’s various systems.

Take birds, for example. A bird’s ability to fly is not the result of a single feature but of numerous features working together. Its bones are lightweight yet strong. Its feathers are shaped to generate lift and control. Its breast muscles provide the power necessary for flight. Its lungs and air sacs extract oxygen with remarkable efficiency. Its vision allows it to navigate at high speeds and track moving objects. None of these features accomplishes flight alone. Rather, they appear as parts of an integrated whole, much like the various systems of an aircraft are coordinated toward a common purpose.

The feather itself is a marvel. What appears from a distance to be little more than a simple covering is actually an intricate structure composed of shafts, barbs, and microscopic hook-like barbules that hold the feather together. If those tiny connections become separated, a bird can often restore them simply through preening. Beyond flight, feathers provide insulation, waterproofing, camouflage, signaling, and display. The more closely one examines them, the more difficult it becomes to dismiss them as mere biological afterthoughts.

Then there is the avian respiratory system. Birds possess one of the most efficient breathing systems in the animal kingdom. Unlike humans, whose lungs fill and empty through the same passages, birds utilize a system of air sacs that keeps air moving through their lungs in a largely one-way flow. This arrangement allows for exceptional oxygen extraction, enabling many species to thrive at altitudes that would leave humans struggling for breath. It is precisely the kind of elegant efficiency that many people associate with design.

Migration offers another striking example. Some birds travel thousands of miles across oceans and continents, then return to the same nesting grounds with astonishing precision. Researchers have discovered that birds may use the sun, the stars, landmarks, and even Earth’s magnetic field for navigation. The sheer complexity of such systems naturally raises questions about how such capabilities arose and why they work so reliably.

Even the humble egg exhibits a remarkable balance of properties. It must be strong enough to protect the developing chick, porous enough to permit gas exchange, and yet fragile enough for the chick to break open at precisely the right time. It contains nourishment, protection, and an environment suitable for development. What appears at first to be ordinary turns out, upon inspection, to be anything but ordinary.

Bird vision adds another layer of wonder. Many birds can see details at distances far beyond human capability. Some perceive ultraviolet light invisible to us. Eagles can detect prey from remarkable heights. Their visual systems are tailored to the challenges of life in the air, providing yet another example of structure closely matched to function.

Even bird behavior contributes to the appearance of design. Many species construct nests of extraordinary sophistication without attending engineering classes or apprenticing under experienced builders. They weave, anchor, insulate, and protect according to patterns that are often unique to their species. Likewise, their courtship rituals, incubation habits, and parental care demonstrate an intricate coordination of behaviors aimed at the survival of the next generation.

Of course, noticing these things does not settle the question of whether birds really are designed. People draw different conclusions from the same evidence. Some see these features as the product of undirected evolutionary processes. Others see them as evidence of an intelligent Creator. Yet regardless of where one lands in that debate, it is hard to deny that birds exhibit precisely the kinds of characteristics that humans instinctively associate with purposeful design: complexity, coordination, efficiency, and function.

Indeed, perhaps the most telling aspect of my professor’s statement was not his conclusion but his acknowledgment. Before he could urge us not to infer design, he first had to admit that biology often looks remarkably like it. For many observers, that appearance remains one of the most fascinating features of the natural world. As David wrote thousands of years ago, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psa 139:14). David also wrote, “The heavens are telling of the glory of God; and their expanse is declaring the work of His hands” (Psa 19:1). Scripture clearly falls on the “design” side of the question. Whether one studies the human body or the flight of a bird, it is easy to understand why so many people throughout history have looked at living creatures and seen not merely complexity, but craftsmanship.

The Authentic Christian

Jesus said that the world would recognize His disciples by their love for one another. "By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another" (John 13:35). That statement is often quoted, and rightly so. Love is a defining characteristic of the Christian life. Yet Jesus and the apostles described many other evidences that accompany genuine faith. If we want to know what a biblical Christian looks like, we must look beyond a single trait and consider the broader testimony of Scripture.

A biblical Christian is first characterized by submission to Christ. In our culture, Christianity is often reduced to agreement with certain ideas about Jesus. Scripture paints a different picture. Jesus said, "If you love Me, you will keep My commandments" (John 14:15). Obedience is not the means by which we earn salvation, but it is the natural result of a heart that has been transformed by grace. A true disciple does not merely admire Christ; he follows Him.

Likewise, a biblical Christian develops a growing love for the Word of God. Peter exhorted believers, "Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation" (1 Peter 2:2). The believer recognizes that God's Word is not simply information to be analyzed but truth to be believed and obeyed. There is a hunger for Scripture because there is a hunger for God Himself.

Another identifying mark is repentance. Christians are not people who never sin. Rather, they are people who can no longer make peace with sin. The apostle John wrote, "No one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God's seed abides in him" (1 John 3:9). The issue is not perfection but direction. The believer may stumble, sometimes badly, but he cannot remain content in rebellion. The Holy Spirit continually draws him back toward holiness.

Scripture also teaches that genuine believers bear spiritual fruit. Paul writes, "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control" (Gal 5:22-23). These qualities are not manufactured through willpower. They are produced by the Spirit working within the believer. Over time, a Christian should become more loving, more patient, more self-controlled, and more Christlike.

Humility is another distinguishing characteristic. The world teaches self-promotion and self-exaltation. Christ taught servanthood. He said, "Whoever would be great among you must be your servant" (Mark 10:43). As believers grow in grace, they become increasingly aware that every good thing they possess comes from God. Pride diminishes as gratitude increases.

A biblical Christian also perseveres. Faith is not merely an emotional response or a temporary enthusiasm. True faith endures because God preserves His people. Jesus said, "The one who endures to the end will be saved" (Mat 24:13). Christians experience doubts, struggles, disappointments, and seasons of weakness, but they continue looking to Christ because He is their only hope.

Love for fellow believers is likewise a recurring test in Scripture. John wrote, "We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brothers" (1 John 3:14). Genuine Christians do not merely tolerate one another. They recognize that they belong to the same family, redeemed by the same Savior, and indwelt by the same Spirit.

As believers grow, they also develop a deeper hatred of evil and a stronger attachment to what is good. Paul instructs Christians, "Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good" (Rom 12:9). The things that once seemed attractive begin to lose their appeal when viewed in the light of God's holiness. The believer's values increasingly reflect God's values.

There is also a desire to make Christ known. Jesus told His followers, "You will be My witnesses" (Acts 1:8). Not every Christian has the same gifts or opportunities, but every Christian should desire that others come to know the Savior. A heart that has been changed by the gospel naturally wants others to hear that same good news.

Furthermore, biblical Christians live with an eternal perspective. Paul reminds believers that "our citizenship is in heaven" (Php 3:20). This world is not our home. While Christians should faithfully serve God in the present age, they understand that their ultimate hope is not found in earthly success, political victories, financial security, or personal comfort. Their hope is fixed on the return of Christ and the promises of God.

Prayer also becomes an increasingly natural part of life. Paul commands believers to "pray without ceasing" (1 Thess 5:17). Prayer is more than a religious exercise. It is an expression of dependence upon God. Christians understand what Jesus meant when He said, "Apart from Me you can do nothing" (John 15:5). The more mature a believer becomes, the more aware he is of his need for divine grace.

Finally, a biblical Christian is marked by a love for truth. Jesus prayed, "Sanctify them in the truth; Your word is truth" (John 17:17). In a culture where feelings often determine beliefs, Christians are called to submit their feelings, opinions, and assumptions to the revelation of God. They seek not to reshape the truth according to their preferences, but to reshape their lives according to the truth.

Taken together, these characteristics paint a picture of authentic Christianity. A biblical Christian is not simply someone who claims the name of Christ. He is someone whose life increasingly reflects Christ. Love may be the trait that the world most readily sees, but it is accompanied by obedience, repentance, humility, perseverance, holiness, devotion to God's Word, love for God's people, dependence upon God, and a steadfast commitment to truth. None of these qualities are present in perfection this side of heaven. Yet they should all be present in some measure and growing over time. As Paul wrote, "Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith" (2 Cor 13:5). The question is not whether we display these marks flawlessly, but whether the Spirit of God is producing them in us as evidence that we truly belong to Christ.

Accumulation of Errors

One of the realities of construction is that a structure does not usually fail because of one massive measurement error. More often, a wall ends up badly out of alignment because a series of tiny errors accumulate over time. Each individual mistake seems insignificant. A fraction of an inch here, a slight adjustment there, and eventually the finished structure is noticeably crooked. It’s called “the accumulation of error” and the problem occurs not so much because of large errors, but because one small error adds to another which adds to another until there is something really wrong at the end. The same principle can apply to theology.

Most major theological errors do not begin with a direct rejection of Scripture. They begin with a small misunderstanding, an imprecise definition, or a subtle shift in emphasis. Over time, those small errors build upon one another until the resulting theology bears little resemblance to what the Bible actually teaches.

Consider what happens when we slightly redefine biblical love. Modern culture often equates love with unconditional affirmation. If that becomes our starting point, then correction begins to feel unloving. Convicting someone of sin appears harmful. Calls to repentance sound judgmental. Before long, the gospel itself is transformed from God's rescue of sinners into a message of self-acceptance. Yet Scripture consistently presents love as seeking another person's ultimate good, even when that requires correction. "Speaking the truth in love" (Eph 4:15) and the "faithful... wounds of a friend" (Pro 27:6) remind us that biblical love is far more than affirmation.

Similar problems arise when faith is reduced to a feeling. Scripture describes faith as trust in God's revealed truth (Heb 11:1; Rom 10:17), but many people unconsciously define it as emotional certainty. Once that happens, occasional doubt becomes evidence of spiritual failure. Feelings become more authoritative than Scripture. Personal experiences begin to outweigh biblical revelation. Eventually a person may place greater confidence in what he senses God saying than in what God has actually said.

The doctrine of grace often suffers from this kind of accumulation as well. A small error enters when grace is interpreted as meaning that God makes no demands upon His people. Yet the same grace that saves also teaches believers "to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts" (Titus 2:11-12). If grace is detached from holiness, commands are viewed as legalism, obedience becomes optional, and sanctification fades into the background. The result sounds gracious on the surface, but it is far removed from Paul's emphatic question: "Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound? God forbid" (Rom 6:1-2).

Another common accumulation of error occurs when people contrast a relationship with Jesus against doctrine. The statement sounds spiritual at first. After all, Christianity is centered on Christ, not mere intellectual knowledge. Yet Jesus Himself repeatedly emphasized truth, teaching, and obedience. He told His disciples to teach converts "to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you" (Mat 28:20). He also said, "If ye love me, keep my commandments" (John 14:15). Once relationship and doctrine are separated, however, doctrine becomes divisive, theology seems unnecessary, and eventually every individual defines Jesus according to his own preferences.

The same pattern can be observed whenever personal happiness becomes the assumed purpose of God's work in our lives. Scripture certainly teaches that God blesses His children, but His stated purpose is to conform believers to the image of His Son (Rom 8:29). If happiness becomes the highest priority, then suffering appears pointless, trials seem unjust, and difficulty is interpreted as evidence that something has gone wrong. Yet James tells us to "count it all joy" when we encounter trials because God uses them to mature our faith (James 1:2-4). A small misunderstanding regarding God's purpose can dramatically alter our view of suffering, discipleship, and spiritual growth.

Perhaps the most subtle accumulation of all occurs through the changing meaning of words. Every generation inherits language that slowly evolves. Words such as love, faith, repentance, freedom, truth, justice, and even friend often carry meanings today that differ from how Scripture uses them. Without realizing it, people can read modern definitions back into ancient texts. The interpretation changes, then the doctrine changes, and eventually an entire theological system emerges that rests upon definitions the biblical authors never intended. In many cases, people remain convinced they are following Scripture when, in reality, they are following contemporary meanings imposed upon Scripture.

This is why theological error often develops so gradually. Few believers wake up one morning and consciously reject a major doctrine. Instead, a small misunderstanding of sin leads to a misunderstanding of grace. A misunderstanding of grace affects one's view of holiness. A misunderstanding of holiness shapes one's understanding of salvation. Like a building that drifts out of square because every measurement was just slightly off, the accumulated result becomes substantial.

The problem of the accumulation of errors is actually the reference point. Measured from a known, good reference point, a single starting point, the errors don’t accumulate. It’s starting from reference points that are derived from other measurements that causes the problem. Scripture repeatedly warns believers about the importance of precision in handling God's Word. "Every word of God is pure" (Pro 30:5). Jesus declared that man lives "by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God" (Mat 4:4). The solution is not theological paranoia, but theological humility. We must constantly allow Scripture to define its own terms, maintain the balances that Scripture maintains, and resist the temptation to improve upon God's revealed truth. Small errors rarely remain small. Given enough time, they accumulate. The safest course is to keep returning to the text itself, allowing God's Word, rather than our assumptions, to set the boundaries of our theology.

Self-Sufficient

It wasn’t my finest hour. I had a crisis and I was stuck. I did what I should do and prayed. “Please, God, I don’t know what to do. Please … give me guidance.” Almost immediately an answer occurred to me … the right answer. And, to my embarrassment, I heard me tell God, “Oh, don’t worry, God … I’ve got this.” What effrontery! Like I came up with that on my own. I was ashamed.

We all have it in us, this notion that we’re capable, that we're sufficient. Oh, maybe not entirely, but for the most part, right? “I can do this.” We’re taught to tell ourselves that. “I think I can. I think I can.” It’s very human.

Some people have delusions of grandeur. We all suffer from delusions of adequacy. We think we’ve got this … at least sometimes. In life, we can be deists—the notion that God made everything and then stood back and watched. We forget that Jesus said, “Apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). We don’t really grasp the very clear statement “From Him and through Him and to Him are all things” (Rom 11:36). Paul told the Athenians, “In Him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). He told the Corinthians, “Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God” (2 Cor 3:5). Even when Paul told the Philippian Christians to “work out your salvation with fear and trembling,” he told them it was because “God is at work in you to will and to do His good pleasure” (Php 2:12-13).

We are, by birth, self-centered and therefore anthropocentric. We are human-centered. So we naturally believe that it’s all about us—that we are the primary focus. We believe that we’re capable. We believe that we, in our experience and efforts, can determine what is and isn’t true, as if something becomes true simply because we declare it to be true. It’s a lie, a product of a heart deficiency (Jer 17:9).

It’s not true. We are not that good. The only real good in us is the good God produces in us and sustains by His grace. We would do well to remember that and be properly grateful.

When God Isn't Doing His Job

It’s an intentionally provocative title, and we “true believers” will find it pointless ... but ... do we? It seems to me that any of us can get tripped up when we encounter circumstances that we find uncomfortable (or worse) and think this is not what God had in mind. And I think we’re not alone in that. Think about Jesus’s disciples.

We looked recently at the story of Jesus and His disciples in the boat in the storm. His disciples panicked, and it only got worse when they discovered their rabbi was sleeping in the back of the boat. “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (Mark 4:38). Jesus calmed the storm and asked, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” (Mark 4:40). And, of interest, they were scared in the storm, but “filled with great fear” when someone actually stopped the storm (Mark 4:41).

In fact, the running theme of the Gospels includes this idea that the disciples never quite caught on. They knew He was the Messiah (Mark 8:49) but didn’t get what He was doing. He wasn’t acting like the Messiah they expected. He went to Tyre and, when a Gentile woman asked Him to cast out a demon from her daughter, “rightly” referred to her as a dog … and then healed her daughter. He didn’t go down to Jerusalem and declare Himself king, but instead spoke to them of dying. They were … almost outraged. This wasn’t how the Messiah was supposed to act. Dying was not part of the plan. And when He was arrested, they ran. This was definitely not how a Messiah was supposed to act.

Jesus told them that He said and did what the Father wanted Him to say and do (John 14:10). Either He was mistaken, or He actually did. And since He wasn’t mistaken, it’s clear His disciples were mistaken. After three years of literally walking where Jesus walked and learning at His feet, they didn’t get it. Why, then, would we expect to understand so much better than they do?

It’s easy to stand outside of circumstances and situations and nod and say, “He does all things well.” It’s easy to agree that “God works all things together for good” (Rom 8:28) when He's not doing anything unpleasant. But in the heat of it—facing the giants—it’s another thing entirely. That’s where the rubber meets the road. That’s where faith is tested (James 1:2-4). And you should decide in advance whether or not you’re going to let God be God and do what He deems best, or you’re going to be the “wise one” and tell God how to do His business.