The book of Ecclesiastes emphasizes living authentically before God, particularly through the concept of "fearing God," which implies reverence, obedience, and a proper relationship with Him.
Ecclesiastes 12:13-14
"Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the duty of all mankind. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil."
This passage aligns with Jesus’ emphasis on doing the will of God.
Matthew 7:21
"Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven."
The "fear of God" in Ecclesiastes is not merely an intellectual acknowledgment but a call to live obediently, much like Jesus’ requirement for a genuine relationship with Him and the Father.
Ecclesiastes critiques the pursuit of meaningless endeavors, including superficial religious practices.
Ecclesiastes 5:1
"Guard your steps when you go to the house of God. To draw near to listen is better than to offer the sacrifice of fools, for they do not know that they are doing evil."
This passage warns against thoughtless worship or religious acts without genuine devotion, and echoes Jesus' words from the cross in regard to those who were executing him. Both Ecclesiastes and Matthew's gospel emphasize the need for heartfelt obedience. And Ecclesiastes repeatedly underscores that God sees and judges' human actions, a theme that connects to the judgment scene in Matthew 7:21-23.
Ecclesiastes also reflects on the futility of human endeavors apart from God, apart from true relationship with Him. Which indirectly relates to Jesus’ rejection of those who rely on their own works.
Ecclesiastes 2:11
"Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun."
This sense of "meaninglessness" when pursuing human achievements without God parallels the futility of the religious acts in Matthew 7:22, which lack the foundation of a genuine relationship with Jesus. Both texts suggest that works, no matter how impressive, are empty without alignment with God’s will.
You could say that Ecclesiastes, emphasizes reverence and obedience over personal intimacy. And therefore, it differs from Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 7 which is explicitly eschatological, focused on the final judgment and personal rejection by Him as the divine judge.
But I don't think they are different. I mean, why did Jesus tell us in Matthew 7 that some would be rejected?
In Matthew 7:21-23, Jesus teaches that not everyone who claims allegiance to Him ("Lord, Lord") or performs impressive religious acts (prophesying, casting out demons, performing miracles) will enter the kingdom of heaven. Instead, only those who "do the will of my Father" will be accepted. Added to this is how Jesus emphasizes that true discipleship involves a personal connection (internal transformation), not just outward actions. Jesus ties entry into the kingdom to "doing the will of my Father." This reflects a consistent biblical theme (seen in both Old and New Testaments) that true faith is demonstrated through obedience. It’s a challenge to live with integrity, ensuring that one’s faith is not just performative but rooted in love for and submission to God.
Likewise, in Ecclesiastes, the "fear of God" (Ecclesiastes 12:13) is not merely intellectual reverence but a holistic posture of awe, submission, and adherence to God’s commandments. Both texts reject superficiality, Ecclesiastes critiques the "sacrifice of fools" (Ecclesiastes 5:1), and Jesus rejects those who perform miracles without true faith.
Part Two: Saved or Self Deceived
Every human being lives forever. Consciously, thoughtfully, without distraction and with full comprehension. It'll be eternity with unlimited and unrestrained fully functioning minds and bodies. In other words, we will know all there is to know for the created beings to know.
The question isn't eternal life; the question is where you'll spend eternity. Many people are convinced that they have secured their place in eternal life in the kingdom of heaven.
Are they right or wrong?
Let's take a closer look at what Jesus said on this.
Matthew 7:21-23
"Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.'"
Jesus tells us that there will be many, not just a few, but many, who will fall into deception on this subject. They'll have empty words that come from empty hearts. Their testimony will be founded upon a false confession. And so, right from the start we can sus out that genuine faith that saves is not merely about confession. Saying "Lord, Lord" reflects a verbal profession of faith, but Jesus indicates this alone is insufficient. Jesus prioritizes action over words. This challenges those who rely solely on a one-time profession of faith or cultural Christianity without a transformed life.
The next thing to notice is the self-righteousness. The people Jesus rejects point to their extraordinary deeds; prophesying, casting out demons, and performing miracles, all done "in your name." These are not minor acts; they’re powerful and outwardly impressive and they have the appearance of being very devoted spiritually speaking.
Now, let's pause here for a moment.
What do we know?
We know that confessing Jesus is critical to a faithful relationship with Christ.
We know that one cannot confess faith in Christ unless they are given the words from The Holy Spirit. It is His work to bring that about.
And yet Jesus says,
"Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven."
This brings to my mind something from the prophet Isaiah,
Isaiah 29:13
"This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me."
It's about giving lip service without a genuine heart transformation, which ultimately is meaningless. The deception lies in believing that a verbal claim alone secures your salvation, ignoring the need for a heart aligned with God’s purposes. And we see this advertised every Sunday in most churches, believe and be saved.
Now, let's keep in mind, these people Jesus is referring to aren't just some groups of C and Eers (people who attend church on Christmas and Easter only), or recent one-time altar call recruits. They're devoted to Jesus' name, performing works of righteousness in his name. They're devoted are directly associated in the service of His name. They are engaged in spiritual warfare, doing ministry that involves the casting out of demons. These are not some superficial marginal claims to faith. So, it's stunning to hear this, that many like them will hear,
"I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness."
What were they doing that was lawless?
How can people who appear deeply devoted to Jesus; performing miracles, casting out demons, and prophesying in His name, be rejected as "workers of lawlessness" who were never known by Him?
The deception lies in believing that outward acts, whether verbal confession or religious works, secures salvation without a heart aligned with God’s will. They are hypocritical and profane because they are taking the Lord's name in vain.
The term "workers of lawlessness" (Greek: ergazomenoi tēn anomian) in Matthew 7:23 is key to understanding their rejection. It refers to a disregard for or violation of God’s law, which encompasses His moral, relational, and covenantal standards. It's profane in its lack of love for God's word, and it's self-centered motives. This aligns with Jesus’ earlier warnings in the Sermon on the Mount about practicing righteousness "to be seen by others" (Matthew 6:1–5). Their works, though done "in His name," may have been driven by pride or a desire for status, not in love for God.
Jesus redefines righteousness as surpassing that of the Pharisees (Matthew 5:20), emphasizing an internal transformation (purity of heart, which really means motives, humility, and love for enemies) over external compliance to ritualistic behavior. For instance, the Pharisees and the chief priests practiced acts of righteousness, even casting out demons and curing infirmities. That was their duty as priests. And they did those things. And Jesus did not "know" them. Not as his children of light. Not having met them at the narrow gate. Not seeing them in an attitude of repentance. They weren't thirsting and hungering for righteousness. They were empty hearts speaking empty words, whitewashed tombs.
These empty people know the law but don't know the heart of the law. God’s law encompasses His moral, relational, and covenantal standards, rooted in love for God and others (Matthew 22:37–40). These empty people prioritize self over God, even while cloaked in religious activity. Jesus addresses these people when speaking about two types of people who are both building houses (which represents building a relationship with God).
Let's take a closer look:
Luke 6:46–49
"Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you? Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built. But the one who hears and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the stream broke against it, immediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great."
So, what's happening here?
The storm is coming against both houses (judgement), the stream is breaking against us, the flood is pounding on our doors. Both houses are built in the same place. Same everything except for one thing. One has a foundation built on the rock, and the other has no foundation. One built on a bed of rock that cannot be moved, and the other has built directly on the sand.
This parable underscores the importance of not just hearing Jesus’ teachings but putting them into practice, providing a vivid illustration of the consequences of genuine faith versus superficial faith.
The Two Builders:
The wise man represents those who hear Jesus’ words and does them. Their faith is active, rooted in obedience to His teachings.
The foolish man represents those who hear Jesus’ words but do not do them. Their faith is superficial, lacking the practical application of His teachings. No love for the law of God. No longing for the love of God. They are looking to enhance their relationship with externals. Worshipping with their mouths but not with their hearts.
What is the foundation, the rock upon which it is built?
The rock symbolizes a life built on obedience to Jesus’ gospel teachings, particularly those in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5–7), such as humility, love, forgiveness, and purity of heart. It reflects a heart transformed by faith and aligned with God’s will (Mark 1:15).
The sand symbolizes a life built on hearing alone, professing faith, performing religious acts, and relying on self-righteousness without true repentance, obedience, or transformation.
The house on the rock stands firm, symbolizing salvation. The house on the sand falls with a great crash, symbolizing destruction and rejection. The foolish builder’s failure to act on Jesus’ words mirrors the "sacrifice of fools", religious acts without genuine devotion. Both are superficial, lacking the heart transformation that God requires.
So where can we hear a word of encouragement and assurance in this?
Jesus doesn't leave us in the dark on this.
John 8:31
So, Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, "If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples,"
So, how can we be sure that we are abiding in His word?
I think we can sus that out by examining where scripture teaches us about those who aren't abiding and maybe learn from their mistakes.
Titus 1:10, 14, 15, 16
"...there are many who are insubordinate, empty talkers and deceivers...", "...devoting themselves to Jewish myths and the commands of people who turn away from the truth...", "...both their minds and their consciences are defiled. They profess to know God, but they deny him by their works. They are detestable, and disobedient, unfit for any good work...."
One thing in particular marks the difference between an abiding believer and an unbeliever or believer in name only, and that is a lifestyle of eagerly loving and obeying the word of God. Hearing the word and doing it. No one can snatch Jesus’ sheep from His or the Father’s hand when they are doing his word.
1 John 2:3–6
"And by this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments. Whoever says, ‘I know him’ but does not keep his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him, but whoever keeps his word, in him truly the love of God is perfected."
James 1:22–25
"But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing."
We're not necessarily talking about "perfection" here, we're talking about "direction". True Christians build on the rock of biblical wisdom and truth. Merely hearing the word (building on sand) without acting on it leads to self-deception.
Why do so many build on sand?
Simple answer, it's easy. No need to dig deep. No need to form a foundation and structure that'll make the foundation able to withstand the pressures and tensions that comes from being beaten down again and again. It's the short cut, instant gratification that so many seek. You see this often in many orthodox practices. No time for conviction and cultivating the truth. No time for counting the costs. It's a shallow approach to everything. And today superficiality is how we measure success. Today we build our lives on instantaneous impressions. Today we build on the sand of a viral Tik Tok moment. Today we rush into a bold and beautiful profession of faith without ever acknowledging that Jesus Christ is actually in charge of our salvation. not us, not our rituals, not our institutions. And later on, inevitably they rush out again when the storm comes.
There's no preaching about sin; therefore, there's no repentance from it. There's no cost counted because there's no cost. There's no persecution so there's no perseverance. There's no effort, no endurance, so there's no efficacy. There's no obedience to the word so there's no obedience to Christ.
And so, our Lord says, the foolish builder, who hears but doesn’t act, mirrors the hearer-only who deceives themselves. Their faith, like the house on sand, collapses because it lacks the practical application of God’s truth. James emphasizes that true faith is demonstrated through action, not just words or outward works of devotion to a pattern of worship.
So now we come to the nitty gritty.
How do you know that you haven't built your house on a foundation of sand?
The sand is religious acts without genuine devotion. If you're ashamed of the gospel or are reserved in yielding to Christ as King of the Universe. If you are you irritated by the commands of scripture, if it bother you that Jesus is restricting in His Way. Do you not like that the Bible lays out sins that you cannot be found doing? Sins that you would like to do. Does that irritate you?
If you answered yes, that is evidence that you have built your house of faith on a foundation of sand which isn't even a foundation. It's not even a concrete slab poured on sand. You've literally built your house directly on sand.
Do you come to faith because it's expected of you? Do you pray openly because it's expected of you? Are you trying to earn your way into favor with God and his people? Have you recycled your previous lifestyle of phony self-worship and traded it in for a new fabrication of YOU with Jesus as an add-on for a new viral sensation and adulation?
If you are doing these things, it's a wrong motive because it's about your own glory and not Christ's glory or Christ's kingdom that you are promoting. It's a wrong motive building on sand.
Is there anything in you, even some small component of your faith, that thinks you can earn your way into heaven? Even if you believe in the cross and the resurrection but still believe that you can contribute to your salvation somehow, you have a foundation built on sand. Which isn't a foundation at all. And I mean, even if you think that you can encourage your salvation, not directly earn it but encourage it with prayers to saints, acts of contrition (which really means acts of contribution), or post-death means of working out your salvation (purgatory), then you have built your faith on sand.
If you love the world. Can't let go of it. Can't let go of pleasures and pride, and you won't forsake those things for the sake of obedience to Jesus Christ and his teachings? It's very possible that you've built your faith on sand.
Unfortunately, friends, I think most of us have built very elaborate houses on sand. If I'm being serious and honest, I've come to the understanding that genuine faith is knowing that if you were to hear those words from Jesus, ("I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness."), it would be justified and right for Jesus to judge us in that way.
And I've learned that if you believe you deserve to hear those words, you probably won't hear them. It's a little like a sane person asking if they are really insane. Probably not if you are willing to admit that you may be.
So, let's stop with that and pray:
Heavenly Father,
We come before You with humble hearts, acknowledging our unworthiness and our tendency to build on sand, trusting in our own works, seeking our own glory, or clinging to the world. Forgive us for any resistance to Your word, any prideful motives, or any belief that we can earn Your favor. We confess that we deserve Your judgment, yet we cling to Your mercy through Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross. Thank You for Your grace that saves us, not by our works but by faith in Christ alone.
Holy Spirit, search our hearts and reveal any sandy foundations. Transform us from within, giving us a love for Your word, a desire to obey Jesus, and motives that seek Your glory alone. Help us to abide in Jesus’ teachings, to be doers and not hearers only, and to build our lives on the rock of His truth. May we forsake the world’s pleasures and pride, taking up our cross to follow You.
Lord Jesus, we trust in Your promise of eternal life, and we rest in Your unfailing love. In Your holy name, amen.
Defining Jesus: Jesus’ Self-Revelation as Mighty God
What did Jesus say about himself?
John 5:17-24
Jesus answered them, "My Father is working until now, and I am working." This was why the Jews were seeking all the more to kill him, because not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God. So Jesus said to them, "Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all that he himself is doing. And greater works than these will he show him, so that you may marvel. For as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom he will. For the Father judges no one, but has given all judgment to the Son, that all may honor the Son, just as they honor the Father. Whoever does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who sent him. Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not ...
Layers of Divine Light: Unveiling the Crystalline Realms of Scripture
Genesis 1:6-8
And God said, "Let there be an expanse [canopy] in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters." And God made [fashioned] the expanse and separated the waters that were under the expanse from the waters that were above the expanse. And it was so. And God called the expanse Heaven [sky]. And there was evening and there was morning, the second day.
The spiritual realms are like a symphony of layered light where God’s sovereignty orchestrates every refraction and pathway. It's not a static vault but a dynamic crystalline expanse, a threshold shimmering with divine order, separating yet connecting the seen and unseen. God created the "firmament" (raqia in Hebrew, often translated as expanse or vault) to separate waters above from below, forming a structural boundary between earthly and heavenly realms. And the scriptures give us illuminations from time to time about what those heavenly realms are like.
Ezekiel 1:22
Over the heads of the living creatures there was the likeness of an expanse, shining like ...
"Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go." (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after saying this he said to him, "Follow me."
As I was writing what follows, I was reminded of a favorite line in a favorite Broadway play, Godspell. The line I'm thinking about is part of the song, "All For The Best".
"Someone's got to be oppressed"
And whenever I feel like I'm out of control or out of sorts, I say that line. It's a comfort for me. I know where I come from, I know where I'm going, and I don't have any doubts about it. It is what it is, and someone's got to be oppressed.
It's a challenge and an invitation to trust and obey, even in the face of sacrifice. The Acts of Peter (a late 2nd century, apocryphal writing) claims Peter was crucified upside down in Rome under Emperor Nero around 64-68 AD. Sources ...
Risen In Faith: Embracing Christ's Transformative Power
Acts 9:32-35
"Now as Peter went here and there among them all, he came down also to the saints who lived at Lydda. There he found a man named Aeneas, bedridden for eight years, who was paralyzed. And Peter said to him, "Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals you; rise and make your bed." And immediately he rose. And all the residents of Lydda and Sharon saw him, and they turned to the Lord."
It's said that Peter spoke a "word of faith" over Aeneas, and over Tabitha in Acts 9:40 when he raised her from death. What do you suppose Peter was doing? Was he commanding the powers of the Universe? Maybe operating in the fourth dimension?
Peter is boldly declaring healing and life in the name and authority of Jesus Christ, grounded in his unwavering belief of God’s promises and power. Peter’s actions in these passages from Acts 9 reflect a profound demonstration of faith in God’s power, specifically through Jesus Christ, rather than any personal command over universal forces or mystical dimensions. Peter explicitly says "Jesus Christ heals you," making it clear he’s invoking ...
God’s Initiative in Giving “Ears to Hear” and Restoring the Soul
Q: How can a believer know they are among the elect?
Ephesians 1:3–10
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth."
Assurance of our election is not automatic or unvarying; it develops over time, it can differ in strength and may be temporarily obscured by our sin or doubts, but it is possible, and we are...
From Damascus to Unity: Saul’s Radical Transformation and the Unifying Gospel
Acts 8:32-35
Now the passage of the Scripture that he was reading was this:
"Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter and like a lamb before its shearer is silent, so he opens not his mouth. In his humiliation justice was denied him. Who can describe his generation? For his life is taken away from the earth."
And the eunuch said to Philip, "About whom, I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?"
Then Philip opened his mouth, and beginning with this Scripture, he told him the good news about Jesus.
The story unfolds in Acts 8:26-40, where Philip, one of the seven deacons chosen in Acts 6 and an evangelist filled with the Holy Spirit, is directed by an angel to travel a desolate road from Jerusalem to Gaza. There, he meets an Ethiopian eunuch; a high-ranking court official in charge of the treasury for Candace, the queen of Ethiopia (likely modern-day Sudan). This man, described as a eunuch (a castrated male often serving in royal households), had journeyed to Jerusalem to worship, indicating he was likely a Gentile convert to Judaism or a ...
So, Ananias departed and entered the house. And laying his hands on him he said, "Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus who appeared to you on the road by which you came has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit." And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and he regained his sight. Then he rose and was baptized; and taking food, he was strengthened.
The disciple named Ananias in Damascus has a vision in which the Lord speaks to him concerning Saul/Paul who had been spending the last three days sightless and fasting both food and water. This is a pivotal moment in the early Christian story. This scene marks the transformation of Saul (later known as Paul) from fierce persecutor of the church to one of its great apostles.
Saul has a dramatic encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus. a blinding light and Jesus’ voice confront him: "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" Saul is left blind, fasting, and praying for three days; a period symbolizing humility, repentance, and preparation, much like Jonah’s three days in the fish or Jesus’ three days in the tomb. Ananias, a disciple in Damascus, receives a vision from the Lord instructing him to go to Saul. Ananias is understandably hesitant at first (Acts 9:13-14), given Saul’s reputation for arresting and harming believers, but he obeys God’s command. Ananias enters the house where Saul is staying and lays hands on him. Ananias relays the message: Jesus, who appeared on the road, sent him for two purposes, restoring sight and filling with the Holy Spirit.
Acts 9:18
"Immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and he regained his sight."
This isn’t just physical healing; it’s a metaphor for spiritual enlightenment. Saul’s blindness represented his previous spiritual darkness in persecuting the church, and the "scales" falling away signify clarity and conversion. Saul eats and is strengthened, and he spends time with the disciples in Damascus, marking the beginning of his integration into the Christian community.
Paul’s later writings reflect on this conversion as a direct call from God, underscoring its authenticity.
Galatians 1:15-17
"But when he who had set me apart before I was born, and who called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, in order that I might preach him among the Gentiles, I did not immediately consult with anyone; nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were apostles before me, but I went away into Arabia, and returned again to Damascus."
Early church fathers like Augustine saw this as a model of divine election, where God chooses and transforms whom He wills. But even more than this I think it's important to note that the local church serves God's purposes, especially in regards to new believers in the way. After his very sudden conversion, Saul needed baptism, food, and fellowship. And the disciples at Damascus were there to serve God in these things. This encourages us to support new believers (or even ourselves in weak moments) through practical care and inclusion. If God can turn a persecutor like Saul into the author of much of the New Testament, imagine what He can do with our lives. It’s a story of hope for anyone feeling "beyond reach."
Like Ananias, we might be called to reach out to "difficult" people, perhaps someone who’s opposed to our faith or who has hurt us. Ask: Where is God prompting me to act despite hesitation? Ananias isn’t mentioned anywhere else in the Bible, suggesting he was an "ordinary" believer, a reminder that God often uses unsung heroes. But this also highlights for me the importance of the local church over individual notoriety.
In my own life I've had something like a sudden conversion. Not as dramatic as Paul's, but turbulent, nonetheless. And not long after I was convinced/convicted by God's Word to find a local church community and so I set out to find one. At that time I wasn't hyper-focused on the political situation in the churches. I simply wanted to fellowship with God's people and I left it up to prayer and discernment. I was convicted in my heart by God's Word toward that end, and I wanted to be obedient to God's will.
Hebrews 10:25 - The Verse That Convicted Me
"not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near."
At the time I was deeply involved in my own weekly study of God's Word and finally got around to this verse. Honestly it convicted me profoundly. I felt at the time as if God wrote that verse just for me. It’s a profound biblical principle that echoes throughout the New Testament, but it really hadn't convicted me beforehand.
The author of Hebrews (I believe Paul) urges believers to hold fast to their faith amid trials, holding unswervingly to hope, spurring one another toward love and good deeds, and not neglecting fellowship. The "fellowship of the believers" (koinonia in Greek) refers to a shared life in Christ: worship, prayer, teaching, breaking bread, and mutual support. It has its place in Christ's earthly kingdom, even if they are stubborn, lazy, lukewarm, argumentative, arrogant, and so on. It’s not optional, especially for new believers; it’s essential for growth, accountability, and endurance, especially as "the Day" (Christ’s return) approaches.
After Saul’s dramatic conversion and healing through Ananias' obedience, verse 19 notes that he "was with the disciples at Damascus for some days." This immediate integration into fellowship was crucial, Saul needed teaching, protection (from those believers who doubted him), and encouragement to begin preaching. Without the believers’ embrace, Paul's transformation might have faltered. Ananias’ obedience modeled fellowship in action: welcoming the former enemy as a brother in Christ.
It was like that with my little country church on the edge of town. It was a very small village congregation with a long history dating back to the early 1800's. It was founded in the "Congregationalist" tradition as a community of believers, with some ties to the earlier puritan roots. Today that church operates under the United Church of Christ synod. It's probably not as progressive as its synod, but just the same it's definitely aligned with that political ideology. I mention this because it's a testimony to how God can use even the apostate faith conventions to make disciples. It's a testimony that every believer is an individual in the eyes of God, not a religious group. Though he created the "church", and all its many iterations, He deals with the individual when it comes to salvation.
Take me for instance. I spent years in God's word and in prayer and fasting before going to a church. I eventually found a beautiful little country church on the edge of town. I didn't know anything about the UCC at the time. What I knew was I found a small village church with beautiful believers there. A whole bunch of Christian history lived there. It was a church populated by retired clergy and wonderful Bible study. My wife and I renewed our wedding vows there. And my youngest daughter was baptized there. I served for a very short time as a deacon, and I learned about church history there. That time of local church instruction was wonderful for a new believer like me. It wasn't until much later on that the political leanings in that synod were made clearer to me. And that's okay. That's a testimony to me that God can use even the error of apostate conventions to do some good for Christ's kingdom.
You know, as a part of my studies at that time, I learned a lot about the history of "The Church". And I'm thankful for that instruction time. It was like a short course in church history for me. And it didn't take very long for me to begin noticing the divide in the churches. I remember learning how the puritan church started in New England and spread throughout the New York "frontier". And eventually these faith communities created towns around these churches. The American "frontier" was founded upon these churches. On many different denominations and synods. As the frontier expanded westward, including into New York, these Puritan influences spread. Congregationalists (and their offshoots) helped found towns centered around the church, where unity in faith was paramount. The Congregationalist tradition, in which my first church draws from, traces it's origins directly to the Puritans who settled New England in the 1600s, seeking to "purify" the Church of England through covenant-based, autonomous congregations. And the American Baptist churches were also founded on these early puritan traditions. They eventually broke off from those purian traditions, mainly focusing on the believer’s baptism (by immersion, for adults) rather than infant baptism, which they saw as unbiblical. And they would move out into the frontier and found their own towns and churches. Many early Baptists were Separatists from the Church of England or Puritan circles, prioritizing congregational autonomy and personal conversion, echoing Saul’s own dramatic shift apart from Jerusalem.
Our nation was literally built upon this autonomous tradition of worship and community. This pluralism: Dutch Mennonites, French Huguenots, German Baptists, Quakers, and more, highlights how God’s kingdom advanced through varied traditions, even amid conflicts like the Revolutionary War. It’s a testament to unity in diversity, much like the early church blending Jews and Gentiles.
These independent minded communities of believers each felt that they should be a self-governing gathering of believers, free from hierarchical control; a radical idea that emphasized personal piety and communal accountability, much like the early church in Acts. I was drawn to these ideas early on because I was searching for a church that closely resembled the first century church model I had studied in my personal bible study.
You know, in those early days of our nation, it was unheard of that a town would have more than one church. Interesting to think about that. Unity in the faith was very important to these early Christian Americans. New towns popped up as the Word of God traveled throughout the frontier. And each town needed to build a new community of believers. Where I grew up, in the Mohawk Valley of New York, these communities were mainly Protestant, though in the cities the Roman Catholic church was present as well. It’s a powerful reminder from Romans 8:28 that God works all things for good, including through conventions or synods we might later question. Salvation is individual, yet the church (in all its iterations) is God’s design for collective growth.
Ephesians 4:11-16
"And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love."
Even if a congregation is stubborn, lazy, lukewarm, argumentative, or arrogant, it’s often where we learn humility, forgiveness, and perseverance. In the local church we find friendship with God and with His people who are broken, just like us. Let's face it, the Christian community is the church of the dropouts, the sinners, the failures, and the fools (like the song goes).
In my experience, God uses these different dimensions of the church to prepare and send disciples into the world. And that means it's relying heavily upon flawed people. People who are going to get the scriptures wrong, they're going to get Christ's teaching and intent wrong, and they're going to back up their ideas with compromise and new cultural norms. This all circles back to hope: If God transformed Saul, a hypocritical Pharisee, through a hesitant disciple and a fledgling community, and if He used a small UCC church to ground my faith under the instruction/example of good and faithful Christians, despite later realizations about their politics, then no one is "beyond reach."
Just as a funny side note on this thread, I first noticed the division in the church ideologies thanks to a local Mennonite church. They made a habit of walking through this little farm town each Sunday following their church services. They walked through town dropping tracts about their faith at various doorsteps. I of course loved this and engaged them often. And one day I was going to my own little UCC church to work on something and noticed they had stuck a tract in our church door. I laughed and of course I read it. It’s like a gentle nudge from history itself, highlighting the beautiful (and sometimes quirky) ways faith communities express their convictions. Their actions embody a "disciplined evangelism" that’s persistent yet non-confrontational, much like early Anabaptists distributing writings amid persecution. I truly appreciate their willingness and commitment to evangelism. And God often uses unexpected encounters to deepen our understanding. It was a Godly wakeup call, I believe sent specifically for me. Mennonites often emphasize conservative theology, community discipline, and a withdrawal from "worldly" politics, contrasting the much more integrated progressive denominations like the UCC.
I wrote about it in my journals and it caused me to study their history. But it struck me that there was this sort of distinction being made by the Christian communities. This caused me to ponder on these matters more and eventually as I progressed in my studies and lay ministry work which exposed me to the larger world of UCC politics, I gained firsthand experience in how the progressive movement has evolved in the church. It’s a reminder that, while national bodies lean liberal (on LGBTQ+ inclusion and social justice), individual local churches vary greatly, fostering the fellowship I cherished.
In the context of the larger synod I learned that progressives derive their identity from politics, viewing Jesus as a social liberator, whereas conservatives like myself emphasize theology and personal salvation. In the context of the synod I learned that Clergy often lean more liberal than congregants, amplifying divides on issues like LGBTQ+ rights or abortion. But I also learned that these people are people, imperfect just like me. Hebrews 10:25 urges, we’re called to fellowship despite these things, encouraging one another toward love and good deeds for Christ's sake.
Our takeaway today is in my mind that distinctions can prompt growth, not just division, echoing Saul’s integration into a skeptical Jerusalem/Damascus community. God works through imperfect vessels, turning "tract moments" into profound testimonies.
Sparked by those Mennonite tracts and my local UCC experiences, I was led to a lifetime of immersion in church history, systematic theology, and a focus of study into the early church fathers. Studying figures across many eras and traditions; Charles Finney (the fiery revivalist emphasizing free will and social reform), Paul Tillich (with his existential "ground of being" theology), Dietrich Bonhoeffer (whose costly discipleship amid Nazi oppression resonates so powerfully), Augustine (the architect of doctrines like original sin and grace), Thomas Aquinas (the scholastic giant bridging faith and reason in works like the Summa Theologica), Karl Barth (the neo-orthodox voice thundering against liberal theology), Anselm (famous for his ontological argument for God’s existence) and many others. It reflects a thoughtful engagement with diverse perspectives: Catholic scholastics, early patristics, modern liberals, and evangelical reformers. It's no wonder it solidified my Protestant roots, emphasizing sola scriptura, justification by faith, and the priesthood of all believers amid those varied voices.
But among all that history, I think my favorite story has to do with a local church history story that piqued my interest. I'm referring to Asa Gray (1810-1888), the renowned botanist and devout Christian born in Sauquoit, New York, right there in my home Oneida County. Asa Gray wasn’t a traditional theologian by trade, he was America’s foremost botanist, often called the "father of American botany" for his work classifying North American plants and teaching at Harvard. Which for a guy like me (being a horticulture expert by trade) stood out. But he also deeply engaged theological questions, especially in reconciling science and faith. As a committed Presbyterian, Gray corresponded extensively with Charles Darwin starting in the 1850s, exchanging over 300 letters that influenced both men. I recommend every Christian check these stories out. It's extremely interesting now that we've seen the future they both could have only speculated about. Gray defended evolutionary theory as compatible with Christian theism, arguing that natural selection could be God’s method of creation; a "design by wholesale, not retail," as he put it. For Gray, science glorified God, echoing Romans 1:20. But that's enough for now. Maybe someday I'll write more on this topic.
Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the transformative power of Your grace, as seen in Saul’s conversion and in our own lives. Guide us in fellowship with believers, deepen our understanding through Your Word and history’s faithful witnesses, and strengthen our faith amid divisions. May we obey Your call like Ananias, reaching out with love and humility.
"Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no ‘root of bitterness’ springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled."
You can't keep a perfect law of love and keep God's grace in your heart and not create a bitter root of anger if you're striving to ghost people (cutting off contact without explanation) in your life. You will "fail to obtain the grace of God" with all your plans and boundaries. You can't maintain grace in your heart if you're harboring disrespect and dishonorable behavior toward another. Ghosting or dismissive behavior often stems from unresolved anger, pride, or a refusal to engage in reconciliation, which contradicts the pursuit of peace. It's a poisonous attitude that spreads, harming both the individual and the community. By choosing to disconnect in a way that dishonors another, we risk failing to obtain God's grace and defiling others along the way. There's a fallout that comes from this bitterness. It hurts others who love them. They may think themselves righteous and alone, but their anger stirs up bitterness among many others. And now they've become the very thing they thought they were trying to separate from. Bitterness is contagious, spreading negativity and division. Ghosting can be a form of malice or indifference that allows bitterness to fester, blocking the flow of grace. You may think you're being holy and righteous, but you're really just stirring up malice, gossip, and slander.
Ephesians 4:31-32
"Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you"
That bitter root digs down deep and weaves it way away the arteries of your heart. It squeezes and breaks them, and it will make you sick. Ghosting not only harms the individual harboring bitterness but also spreads pain to others, creating a ripple effect of division and defilement.
Ghosting often stems from unresolved anger, pride, or refusal to reconcile. It creates a poisonous attitude that spreads its self-righteous hypocritical harm.
Deuteronomy 29:18
"Beware lest there be among you a man or woman or clan or tribe whose heart is turning away today from the Lord our God to go and serve the gods of those nations. Beware lest there be among you a root bearing poisonous and bitter fruit"
It's something that starts out small but grows insidiously, corrupting not just the individual but the whole community. Ghosting someone doesn’t just affect the person ignored; it can cause confusion, pain, or division among mutual friends, family, or church members who care about both parties. You may justify your actions as a form of self-protection or moral superiority, but this pride blinds you to the collateral damage. You may model or provoke negative behaviors in others; gossip, slander, or further estrangement, creating a cycle of division. This hypocrisy is a spiritual trap, where the attempt to distance oneself from toxicity leads to embodying it.
Failing to obtain God’s grace, as the scripture passages warn, doesn’t necessarily mean losing salvation but can speak to missing the active, transformative power of grace that enables peace and holiness. Ghosting, as an act of malice or indifference, blocks this grace by prioritizing self over love for others, contradicting the “perfect law of love”.
James 2:8
"If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself," you are doing well."
You've got to ask yourself, do you want resurrection, or do you want healing? Let's see if we can figure this out...
Your bitterness is making you “sick” is supported by both scripture and science. Psalm 32:3-4 describes how unconfessed sin (including unforgiveness) causes physical and emotional decay, while studies (Mayo Clinic, 2023) link chronic resentment to stress-related illnesses. Forgiveness, as Ephesians 4:32 urges, is the path to healing. Love requires action, kindness, reconciliation, or at least respectful communication, not the indifference of ghosting. And that bitterroot will cause leaks in every other relationship around you. It'll bleed into other areas of your life, like a hemorrhaging internal wound.
Personal Testimony:
I'll tell you a story. My family came through many generations of bitterroot bitterness that choked out love and joy in that time. My dad and his siblings loved each other in their own way, but the past crippled their love and forgiveness. Too many instances of abuse I suppose. Too much anger was involved. And too little forgiveness was given. And so, generations were poisoned by it. The result was that my parents were caught up in that bitterness by no fault of their own. And so, when I came along the family was very unkind to them. This isn't to say that my dad wasn't a jerk or causing division among them, but that bitterroot doesn't stop with the parties involved.
I was just six months old when my mom had enough. She left my dad and went home to her dad. He wanted nothing to do with her child (me) because he wanted nothing to do with my dad's child. You see, there's that bitterness again. Why? I don't know, no one knows really because the anger continues the harm even far beyond to initial hurt. Whatever started this fight was long ago forgotten, but now that bitterness is bruising the next generation. I was punished for the sins of my ancestors I suppose.
For six years (the first formative years of my life) I lived with a foster family because of this bitterroot's death of love and grace. I lived just a few houses down the street from my ancestral family home. I knew my extended family and my father who lived just down the street, but I wasn't one of them as far as I knew.
So I began my life as an outcast. No real family and no true understanding of what that truly means. This was the fallout of bitterness. I was the fallout of that bitteroot. The "bitterroot", gets passed down through your family, and this shows how unresolved anger and unforgiveness can become a legacy of pain, punishing generations for sins they didn’t commit. My mother’s rejection by her father, my separation from family, and my years in foster care, all stemming from conflicts long forgotten, reveals the devastating reach of this spiritual and emotional decay.
My dad's family wasn't helpful much, in fact not at all really. Some tried, but again that bitterness crept in and put an end to grace. My aunt and her children tried to help my dad and care for his newborn son. But his brother, like my grandfather (my mother's dad), wanted nothing to do with his brothers' child. So, this generational trauma pushed me out again.
Six years later my dad takes me out of the foster home, and he and I begin my new life together. He believed I was old enough now to take care of myself for the most part. He worked most of the time but tried his best to provide a home for me. He was depressed and an alcoholic, and he took care of me with what he understood about love.
But what did I know about love?
Nothing really but what my dad taught me by his example. I learned about bitterness, drunkenness, and separation. I knew I belonged nowhere. I didn't have a family like my friends families. I didn't have a mom, she abandoned me six years before, and dad told me she was dead. And for twelve years I knew that to be true. Until that day she came to our front door.
What did I feel that day?
I was afraid of it. I didn't want it, I didn't need it, I didn't want a step family. I had learned in twelve years to be alone and comfortable in that aloneness. Bitterness had its roots deep inside me. I was born from it you could say. Every instance in my childhood that look even a little like love, hope, and joy was quickly ripped away from me.
This is the foundation of a principle that was forged in me. I believe you should never punish a child for the sins of the parents, or the family, or whatever. NEVER force a child to grow up in an environment that fosters bitterness. This is a foundational principle with me, and believe it or not it's not gracious or righteous.
What do you mean Mike? How can that principle be a bad thing.
Because it too can become a bitterroot if it doesn't allow for people to make mistakes. In fact, most principles don't allow for mistakes. There is rarely very much grace in a principle when its root is bitterness. So, as you can see, bitterness shapes not just families but the very core of a child’s understanding of love, belonging, and trust.
I didn't know my family. I didn't know my grandparents. I wasn't given the opportunity because bitterness had its roots deep inside my family. It was passed down through my family’s unresolved anger and unforgiveness. It became a force that isolated me, first through my mother’s rejection by her father, then years in foster care, and later through my father’s family’s inability to overcome their own resentment. An innocent child was made to bear the weight of sins he didn’t commit.
This created in my a resentment of a kind. It manifested itself in how I view people. I don't trust people. I don't trust authority. And I really don't like false accusations made against me. I suppose being raised in an atmosphere of bitterness created a sense in me that I was by default guilty of something in the eyes of others, even when I knew I was innocent. So I very easily believe most people are bearing false witness against me. Cut off from my grandparents, rejected by my mother’s father, placed in foster care, and distanced by my father’s family; all created a profound wound in me.
Hebrews 12:15
"warns of this very thing: a root of bitterness that "causes trouble and defiles many."
My story shows how this defilement can ripple across generations, shaping a child’s worldview and relationships. The resentment I carry, manifesting as distrust in people, authority, and a heightened sensitivity to false accusations, is a natural response to growing up in an environment where love and trust were scarce. This aligns with psychological insights: chronic exposure to rejection or unfair treatment, especially in childhood, can foster "hypervigilance" and a belief that others are prone to bearing false witness (APA, 2023). I can attest to this fact. I live with it daily.
Spiritually, this echoes the pain of being sinned against, which can tempt us to build walls rather than bridges. Distrust and fear of false accusations reflects a deep longing for justice and truth; qualities rooted in God’s character (Psalm 89:14). Yet, as I've hinted, resentment can become its own bitterroot, keeping me guarded and reinforcing the isolation I've already endured. I'm very distant for the most part. And it's ironic because I can easily fit into public life, in fact my vocation demands it of me. And I do alright with it. But I don't want it really. I welcome it when it comes, but it needs to be forced upon me, because my guarded nature will always resist.
Trauma profoundly shapes our identity, often reshaping how we perceive ourselves, others, and our place in the world. My story of generational bitterness, rejection, and isolation illustrates this vividly. Especially in childhood, which disrupts the formation of a stable sense of self. Being ostracized by family and placed in foster care, can lead to an identity rooted in survival rather than belonging. I can want a family all day long, but my identity will always have that connection to the bitter root (hypervigilance).
Survivors like me often develop "masks" to navigate social settings while hiding a wounded core self. My preference for distance, despite being capable of connection, suggests an identity caught between longing for belonging and fearing betrayal. And believe me, I take betrayal very personally. And often very loudly. This is the "defilement" I mentioned earlier. Defilement can distort our view of ourselves, making it hard to internalize spiritual truths like Psalm 139:14; that you are "fearfully and wonderfully made." My sense of being an "outcast," punished for others’ sins, may have led to an identity tied to rejection rather than divine purpose. So, this bitter root can sap my connection with my Lord as well. Maybe this is why I strive so much to keep that connection. I'm fighting my own root of bitterness. This hints at a redemptive thread in my story, an identity capable of extending grace (e.g. Kairos prison ministry), even if I struggle to receive it myself.
During a Kairos weekend event inside the prison, we have a forgiveness ceremony. I won't go too much into the details, but I'll share that we write down the names of people we need to forgive or who we need forgiveness from. And these notes get dissolved into a large bin of water. And they're gone. Put in God's hands. I've been involved in many of these ceremonies. I'll share now, that I've had the names of my entire family on those notes. My wife, my extended family, my mom, my dad, my children, and my own name. I've asked for forgiveness both ways, coming and going. I’ve left it there in God's hands. And I'm at peace with it to the extent that I am able given my bitter root identity.
Genesis 50:20
As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.
Joseph understood this idea that betrayal is raw and painful, especially when it comes from one's family. It wounds when we've become the subject of a double-cross. Joseph acknowledges the evil of betrayal but sees God’s greater purpose in it.
I understand this as well. Forgiveness, as I've practiced it, imperfect as I am, doesn’t erase the hypervigilance or fear of betrayal but loosens the grip some, allowing space for God’s good to emerge. The evil meant against me; family's rejection, abandonment, and the resulting wounds, has been real and painful. Yet, God is weaving good from it. My principle of protecting children from their family’s sins, though tinged with bitterness, reflects a heart aligned with God’s justice (Micah 6:8). And I see the prisoners as God's children as well. They need to face justice it's true, but they also need God's love and forgiveness. My hypervigilance, while painful, has honed a sensitivity to truth and fairness, which God can use for advocacy or discernment.
The "good" God intends might include a redeemed identity. Through forgiveness and faith, I'm moving toward an identity as God’s beloved, not an outcast. God is breaking these cycles of resentment. By releasing my family’s names in the forgiveness ceremony, God is halting the bitter root’s spread and hopefully ensuring that my children and others don’t inherit its pain.
But today there is purpose in the pain. My betrayal sensitivity fuels a calling to protect and guide others, as seen in ministry for the outcasts, turning personal wounds into communal healing if I can with God's help. There is still a lot of work to do in this regard. My children are not always at peace with me, and rarely do we speak. They don't appreciate my words and they resent my identity because of misunderstandings and frankly ignorance. The tension I share with my children, is a raw reminder that healing is ongoing. The bitterness still has a hold on my history. Their struggle to connect with me stems from their own wounds and bitter root misunderstandings, mirroring the family bitterness I've worked to overcome. This doesn’t negate the grace process; it highlights the complexity of relationships fractured by generational pain. I can’t control their response, but I can continue leaning into God’s redemptive purpose.
I pray for their hearts:
Following Matthew 5:44, I pray daily for my children’s peace and healing, asking God to soften their resentment. This keeps my heart open, even when they resist, much like Joseph’s patience with his brothers (Genesis 50:20).
I try to model grace where I'm able:
Knowing that I'm damaged goods and pretty much incapable of being lovable, I try to extend grace to the outcasts. Showing love without demanding response. With me it's not transactional. Grace isn't supposed to be a give and take, it's always unconditional. This mirrors Jesus’ persistent love despite rejection (Luke 23:34).
I reflect on other perspectives:
I know my hypervigilant intensity can make communication difficult, and I try to think about how that reflects upon other perspectives. This aligns with Psalm 139:23-24’s call to let God search my heart, helping me approach relationships with empathy, even when communication is hard.
And I trust God to find a way:
I've already seen God’s good in my redeemed identity and ministry. My children have very notably resisted my attempts to include them in these contexts. Some have vehemently stated they will never join me in this ministry. This tells me that there is an underlying tension between them and me and my redeemed identity. The bitterness still wants my family to cling to it. The bitter root won't allow for healing. And as a consequence, they can't accept a redeemed me. Not unlike the experience of the prisoners I know.
My response is to nurture my own peace, in daily prayer and devotional writing, affirming my identity as God’s beloved, countering the outcast narrative. Daily prayer and devotional writing are grounding practices for me, affirming my identity as God’s beloved. This practice puts me at rest and gives me power to overcome my hypervigilance.
I know I'm not alone in this work, God is with me, turning evil into good. I know all the tension is coming from misunderstanding and prideful things. I know resistance stems from the bitter root, from misunderstanding my journey and probably feeling disconnected from the grace I've found, especially if they associate me with the family’s past dysfunction. There's a lingering anxiety I call "the bitteroot", and what my children don't understand is that it's the enemy's energy they are feeding when the choose resentment toward me.
I don't think I'll ever completely be free from the hypervigilance, (a lingering side-effect of my childhood trauma; rejection, foster care, and betrayal), it's a survival mechanism that may never fully fade. Early trauma often embeds hypervigilance in the brain’s wiring, making reactive responses automatic. It's not an excuse, just my reality. It will always drive me to react when I should respond with grace. But I can try to soften my nature whenever I can. This is my work and God's work to be done. I acknowledge that God is with me, turning evil into good (Genesis 50:20), this is my faith, and it anchors my hope in His redemptive power.
Earlier I asked: "You've got to ask yourself, do you want resurrection, or do you want healing?"
I suppose the answer I've come to is we should want healing. Resurrection is wonderful when it comes, but the bitter root needs to be healed today if it's going to last. Thankfully grace is renewed with each new day.
Psalm 30:5
For his anger lasts only a moment,
but his favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning.
Please pray for me in this work.
Heavenly Father,
You are the God who turns evil into good, who heals the brokenhearted and binds up our wounds (Psalm 147:3). I come before You, carrying the bitterroot of my past; rejection, betrayal, and the hypervigilance that guards my heart. Thank You for redeeming my identity, calling me Your beloved, fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14).
Uproot the bitterness that clings to my family, especially my children, and replace it with Your peace and healing. Help me model Your unconditional grace, showing love without demand, as Jesus did. I lift up my children to You, asking You to soften their resentment and open their hearts to Your love. Guide me to pause and pray in moments of anxiety, trusting Your timing to turn this pain into purpose.
Thank You for never leaving me alone in this work. Strengthen me through Your Spirit to nurture peace, affirm my identity in You, and extend grace to the outcasts. May my life reflect Your redemptive power, breaking generational cycles for Your glory.
"You are severed from Christ, you who would be justified by the law; you have fallen away from grace."
Thinking you've got to do something for God in order to deserve something from God, feels like a transactional love.
Let me ask you a question...if you don't hear those words (well done) from Jesus, would you still love Him?
Galatians 5:4 warns against seeking justification through the law, which cuts us off from Christ and His grace. Reducing a relationship with Jesus to a checklist of deeds, is not a gift rooted in Christ’s sacrifice. When someone does this they make an idol of themselves and their works. They are in effect saying their deeds are greater than Christ's sacrifice and love.
Relying on the law for justification severs us from Christ’s grace.
Why?
Because Christ's glory cannot have an effect upon us while we're still living in our own works of self-righteousness. It shifts our trust from His finished work to our own efforts. What if the virgins whose oil ran out were too busy practicing their self-righteous works, what if they forgot to fill up with God's love while they were working to fulfill their perceived religious duties.
When we make an idol of our works, we’re essentially declaring our self-righteousness sufficient, which dims the radiance of Christ’s glory in our lives. His grace can’t transform us while we’re clinging to the illusion that our deeds outshine His sacrifice. It’s like trying to earn a gift that’s already been freely given; our self-focus blocks the reality of His love and power.
Q: Why do people do this?
A: Unbelief. Because some will always fall back into self-preservation and performance. The enemy has convinced them that sin is so powerful that Christ could not forgive it, defeat it, or defend against it.
Think about this. If Christ can't defeat sin, even with forgiveness alone, with mercy, then He is not worthy to be called our Savior. You adopt this attitude, and you are saying Jesus is not worthy, he's not a perfect sacrifice. It's a subtle but profound rejection of Christ’s sufficiency.
People fall into this trap because the enemy exploits our human tendency toward self-preservation and prideful performance, whispering that sin’s power is too great for Christ’s sacrifice to fully cover. This lie leads to a mindset where we feel we must earn God’s favor, as if our works could outdo the cross.
Q: You want to know when true repentance and born again faith happens?
A: When your dependence upon yourself runs out. When your supply of self-sufficiency comes to end.
Born from above, salvation from dead works, happens when our self-dependence and self-sufficiency are exhausted. When we hit the end of our own resources, when we realize our works can’t save us, that’s when we surrender to Christ’s sufficiency. It’s in that moment of humility and brokenness that we truly grasp the power of His cross and are reborn by faith in Him alone.
Q: What is this thing, "dead works"?
A: Doing something, sometimes militantly, to get God to do something for you. It's spirituality without love for God. Maybe it's a love for the law. It's a desire to perform your love to earn God's grace.
Hebrews 6:1
"Therefore, let us leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity, not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God."
Dead works are not just futile efforts but a misdirected affection that prioritizes self-effort or legalism over a genuine relationship with God. As Hebrews 6:1 urges, believers must repent from "dead works" as a foundational step toward spiritual maturity.
Acting like what you think a Christian should act "to get God to do something for you" reflects a quid-pro-quo mindset, treating God like a vending machine rather than a loving Father. It's transactional love, not transformative love. Rigid rule-keeping, compulsive service, or ritualistic devotion to prove worthiness lacks the heart of worship, driven instead by duty, fear, or pride. A "love for the law" suggests an idolatrous fixation on rules or performance, where the law becomes a substitute for Christ’s grace. It's revealing the contradiction; grace, by definition, cannot be earned, yet dead works chase this impossible goal.
Let's look closer into why people fall into this trap:
1. Unbelief in Christ’s Sufficiency: The enemy convinces people that sin’s power outstrips Christ’s sacrifice, so they must add their own efforts to "secure" salvation. This leads to a "love for the law" as a false savior. This deception drives individuals to supplement Christ’s work with their own efforts. This lie creates a spiritual insecurity, prompting people to "add" their own efforts to ensure their standing with God. The enemy’s deception preys on human vulnerabilities, amplifying doubts about God’s grace. The enemy exaggerates sin’s power, making it seem unconquerable. The fear that "I’m not good enough" or "God won’t accept me" drives people to perform. Some view God as a harsh judge rather than a loving Father, assuming He demands constant proof of worthiness. The enemy reinforces this by twisting scriptures to emphasize law over love, obscuring God’s character as revealed in Christ (John 3:16-18). They forget that Christ did not come to condemn.
2. Fear of Losing Favor: The militant drive to perform often comes from fear; fear of God’s rejection or not being "enough." This fuels a transactional approach: "If I do this, God must respond." The fear of losing God’s favor stems from a deep-seated insecurity about our standing with Him. This leads to a transactional approach to faith: "If I do this (pray enough, serve enough, obey enough), God must respond (love me, bless me, save me)." This mindset is the essence of dead works; efforts devoid of love for God, rooted in fear rather than faith, and disconnected from the grace of Christ’s finished work. It's a distorted view of Christ's character. The enemy exploits this, sowing doubts about God’s unconditional love.
Remember always: 1 John 4:18
"There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear"
3. Pride in Performance: A "desire to perform your love" can stem from pride, where people want to take credit for their righteousness rather than rely on Christ’s. It's showcase faith. Pride rejects the humility required to accept grace, insisting on earning salvation to maintain control. This desire to "perform your love" refuses to admit dependence on Christ’s sacrifice. Pride is a core aspect of fallen human nature, seeking self-exaltation over God’s glory (Romans 3:23 "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God"). Many church cultures celebrate self-reliance and accomplishment, fostering a mindset where value is tied to performance. This spills into faith, where people assume God’s favor must be earned through impressive (sainthood) works.
4. Cultural Conditioning: Many are taught that love must be earned, so they project this onto God, assuming His grace requires payment through works. Cultural conditioning shapes our worldview, often teaching that love, acceptance, and value are contingent on our worldly and Church performance. These church-culture works are driven by a need to earn love and lacks worship, producing the "dead" quality of Hebrews 6:1. At the heart of it, these faith practices lack love for God. Example: Performing religious duties out of obligation feels hollow, missing the joy of a grace-based relationship with God. And without love all these works are like a clanging gong. All noise no substance, no love.
5. Lack of Intimacy with God: "Spirituality without love for God" is key. Without a deep, personal relationship with Him, people default to rules or rituals, mistaking activity for devotion. Loveless, performance-based faith. Believing God is primarily a judge leads to performing duties to appease Him, not seeking His heart. A believer might read the Bible daily but skim it as a task, missing the chance to hear God’s voice. It's faith without the hope of salvation, often tied to a faith that isn't anticipating Christ's return. A church that prioritizes church attendance or tithing over personal prayer and anticipating Christ's return can condition believers to equate activity with church devotion. Feeling unworthy to approach God in anticipating prayer, a believer might overcompensate with charitable acts to feel more righteous and thereby earn their reward. The enemy promotes this performance-based faith, making catechism feel more reliable than a vulnerable faith connection with God's word. Some believers never learn how to cultivate direct intimacy with God, especially if their faith community focuses on external practices. Growing up in a tradition heavy on liturgy but light on personal devotion can leave someone unsure how to relate to God personally. This is the danger of both orthodoxy and fundamentalism. Without a deep, personal relationship with God, people default to rules or rituals. Believers perform spiritual duties; prayer, church attendance, fasting, out of obligation, not love, treating them as checkboxes to maintain God’s favor. Praying a set number of minutes daily to "stay right with God," without engaging the heart in worship. This is the "love for the law" I spoke about earlier. Obsessively tracking church involvement to feel spiritually secure, rather than seeking God’s presence. It brings to mind the Pharisees who embody the pitfalls of a loveless, performance-driven faith. Prioritizing ritual over heart.
Modern "Pharisees" might enforce strict rules (e.g., orthodox ritualistic worship, self-righteous dress codes, traditional behavior standards) over grace, fostering a "love for the law" that sidelines intimacy with the word of God.
To avoid the Pharisees’ error and cultivate intimacy with God, believers need to know God.
Q: How do you "know God"?
A: Let's see if the word of God can help...
Jeremiah 9:24
"Let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness."
So right away we see that God shifts the focus from the believer toward Him. It's about engaging with God as a loving Father, not a distant judge, through prayer, worship, and trust.
John 17:3
"This is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent."
Spirituality must be rooted in love for God. Knowing Him fuels this love, making works a response to His grace, not a payment for it. Knowing God changes us, aligning our desires with His and producing fruit through the Spirit, not dead works (John 15:4-5). Unlike the Pharisees, who relied on law, knowing God means resting in Christ’s finished work (the resurrection and the anticipation of his return).
The Pharisees doubted God’s grace, relying on law over relationship. Their pride sought self-glory, not God’s heart.
Jesus used a parable to describe this:
Luke 18:9-12
He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: "Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’
It was cultural conditioning. Their tradition taught that righteousness was earned, projecting this onto God. Knowing God would have shifted their focus from dead works to a faith rooted in love.
How to "Know God" and Cultivate Intimacy
Prayer is a two-way conversation, not a ritual to earn favor. Share your heart with God and listen for His voice.
Philippians 4:6-7
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
Pause to reflect, asking, "Lord, what do You want me to know?"
Read the Bible to know God’s character, not just rules. Approach it as His revelation of Himself, seeking His heart.
Psalm 119:105
"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path."
In your devotion ask God, "What does this reveal about God’s love, mercy, or faithfulness?" Journal insights to deepen understanding.
Q: Do you love worship?
Worship in love for Christ, not from a sense of duty. Worship through songs of love, prayers of thanksgiving, and reflection upon the gospels, and expressing your love for God, focusing on His goodness rather than performance. Unlike the Pharisees’ empty rituals, worship from love fosters intimacy, making works a response to God’s glory, not a transaction.
The Holy Spirit (not idols like temples, cathedrals, vestments and furniture) reveals God’s heart and empowers intimacy. Before your worship, your prayers, or your devotion to scripture, pray, "Holy Spirit, show me God’s love and truth." Be open to His nudges, like a sense of peace or conviction. Ask the Spirit to help you regularly examine your heart, confessing specific sins or fears in prayer. Thank God for His grace, accepting His love without earning it.
Conclusion:
Jesus said,
"Abide in me, and I in you" (John 15:4-5).
And the apostle whom Jesus loved wrote:
1 John 4:7
"Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God."
This verse powerfully connects to our discussion about knowing God to cultivate intimacy and avoid the Pharisees’ error of dead works. What Jesus taught they were lacking was love. Love for God and love for one another. They were trapped in a transactional relationship with God.
1 John 4:7 emphasizes that love is the hallmark of knowing God, as it originates from Him and is evidence of being "born of God." To know God is to experience and reflect His love, which is the essence of a personal relationship with Him. The Pharisees missed this mark, and Jesus said of them, "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness. These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others."
Justice reflects God’s righteousness and commitment to fairness, equity, and care for the oppressed. It involves living rightly with others, upholding God’s moral order, and advocating for those who are wronged (Micah 6:8). The Pharisees practiced a superficial justice, focusing on outward compliance with the law. They neglected the poor, the marginalized, and sinners, judging them harshly instead of seeking their restoration.
Mercy is God’s compassionate forgiving love, extended to the undeserving, reflecting His grace and willingness to withhold judgment. It involves showing kindness, forgiveness, and empathy, especially to the broken or sinful. The Pharisees lacked mercy, condemning sinners rather than extending grace. Their rigid adherence to the law left no room for compassion, as they saw themselves as superior, not in need of mercy.
Faithfulness is steadfast trust in God and loyalty to His covenant, expressed through a life of obedience rooted in love, not duty. I see it as "anticipation" of Christ's return and a living faith that experiences Christ's Spirit even now. Faithfulness is a dynamic, forward-looking love for God.
Viewing faithfulness as "anticipation" connects it to our eschatological hope, where believers live with eager expectation of Christ’s second coming.
Titus 2:13
"Waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ"
This hope fuels obedience, not to earn favor, but to align with God’s kingdom. This makes faithfulness active and relational, not a static rule-following, producing works that are alive, not "dead".
By grounding our faithfulness in love, we echo 1 John 4:7’s link between knowing God and loving, ensuring spirituality avoids the Pharisees’ transactional mindset. This view transforms faithfulness from the Pharisees’ external, loveless adherence to law into a dynamic, Spirit-filled relationship that anticipates Christ’s return while living in His presence now in love.
Food for thought:
How do you see modern believers missing this kind of faithfulness; perhaps in routine faith practices or church cultures that lack anticipation or Spirit-filled life?
Prayer:
Heavenly Father,
We come before You with humble hearts, seeking to know You deeply and love You truly. Forgive us when we fall into the trap of transactional love, striving to earn what You freely give through Christ’s perfect sacrifice. Lord, we confess our unbelief, fear, pride, and the cultural conditioning that makes us think Your love must be earned. Break the enemy’s lies that sin is too great for Your cross, and help us trust in Christ’s sufficiency. Holy Spirit, guide us to abide in Jesus. Teach us to pursue justice by caring for the oppressed, to show mercy to the undeserving, and to live faithfully with eager hope, free from the Pharisees’ loveless spirituality. When our self-sufficiency runs dry, lead us to surrender, finding new life in Your grace. We pray this in the name of Jesus, our Savior, who calls us to know and love Him forever. Amen.
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