Category: Vineabiders

  • The Resurrection Is More Important Than You Think

    If you have ever sat through an Easter sermon and walked away faintly dissatisfied with the explanation of why the resurrection matters, you are not alone. Preachers rightly treat it as the hinge of the Christian faith. Paul says that if it did not happen, we are still in our sins, so it clearly has something to do with the atonement. And yet the reasons usually given for it always struck me as thin.

    I once thought I understood this doctrine well. After a season of reading (the books are listed at the end), I have come to think my old view was not so much wrong as badly incomplete. The reality is stranger and far more important than I had been taught. Let me start with the three answers you have probably heard, and then build toward what I think is actually going on.

    Three Familiar Answers

    First, that the resurrection vindicates Jesus’s teaching. Tim Keller put it crisply: if Jesus rose, you have to accept everything he said; if he did not, none of it matters. I more or less agree, but I would hesitate to make rising from the dead the thing that certifies a teacher’s words. The Antichrist, by my reading, will appear to rise from the dead too. More to the point, I cannot find an explicit teaching in Scripture that says we should believe Jesus because he rose. It feels more like worldly wisdom than a biblical argument. I will give Keller the benefit of the doubt, but it does not get to the heart of things.

    Second, that the resurrection proves Christ’s death accomplished salvation. John Piper frames it as proof that the death of Jesus was an all-sufficient price, that without the resurrection his death was a failure. In this model the resurrection is essentially a receipt: God’s wrath has been satisfied, so he raises his Son to show the transaction cleared. It is intensely cross-centered, and that is exactly what I want to challenge. The atonement could not have been completed until Jesus rose and ascended. If that is true, then the resurrection cannot merely be proof that the work was already finished at the cross. It is part of the work itself.

    Third, that the resurrection gives us hope of our own. This is the one you hear on Easter most often and at funerals, and it is the one I fully agree with. Christ is the firstfruits; because he rose, we have solid hope that we will too. But there is far more to say, and the deeper reasons are what I want to walk through.

    What Is the Atonement, Exactly?

    Before we can say why the resurrection matters, we have to ask a question most Christians never think to ask. What is the atonement?

    Most people would answer that it is Jesus dying for our sins on the cross. That is not wrong, but it mistakes the opening act for the whole drama. In the logic of the Old Testament sacrificial system, the death of the victim was never the moment of atonement. It was the preparation for it.

    This is not a controversial claim among scholars of Israel’s sacrificial system. The slaughter of the animal, by itself, accomplished nothing. Its purpose was to obtain the blood, and the purpose of the blood was to be carried to a sacred place and applied. The application was the atoning act, whether that meant sprinkling blood on the mercy seat on the Day of Atonement or on the various implements of the tabernacle. Leviticus 17:11 is about the only place in the Bible that explains why this works:

    ‘For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you on the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood by reason of the life that makes atonement.’

    The operative idea is that the bloodby reason of the life that makes atonement.. We meet this theme early in Scripture, in the severe prohibition against eating blood. Blood carries life, and that is precisely why it makes atonement. Atonement is fundamentally about cleansing, and life cleanses because what it cleanses is the opposite of life, which is death.

    Here is the picture, and it is worth holding onto. At the center of the tabernacle dwelt God’s own presence, the pillar of cloud and fire between the cherubim. I take this to be the Holy Spirit, the same Spirit who will one day dwell in the temple of our bodies. The connection is close to one-to-one, and you will not fully grasp what the New Testament says about the Spirit until you see that the Spirit was that pillar of fire.

    Sin, which leads to death, defiled the place where this presence dwelt. (Leviticus 16:16–19)

    Atonement was the cleansing that kept it habitable, so that the Spirit would remain in Israel’s midst. When the nation sank into sin and the cleansing lapsed, the presence departed.

    So in the old system, atonement was not finished until the blood reached the sacred object. On the Day of Atonement the high priest, having first purified himself so he would not die, carried the blood into the Holy of Holies for one purpose: to place it on the mercy seat and withdraw. Until the blood touched that lid, no atonement had been made. Hold that thought, because it is about to do a great deal of work.

    The Lid of the Ark

    If atonement requires blood on the mercy seat, then atonement cannot have been completed at the cross, because there was no Ark of the Covenant at Golgotha. That is not a clever objection of mine. It is the very point the author of Hebrews builds his argument around, and it is why Jesus had to ascend to where the true mercy seat is.

    The Hebrew name for that lid is kapporeth, from the same root that gives us Yom Kippur. It means, roughly, to atone. The Day of Atonement is the day, and the kapporeth is the place, of atonement. The phrase is almost circular: atonement is made on the place of atonement. The lid is so central that its very name is atonement.

    The New Testament writers refer to that same object with the Greek word hilasterion. Translated as “mercy seat,” it renders the Hebrew faithfully. Translated as “atonement,” it is also fair, since that is what the word carried. But some translations render it “propitiation,” meaning the satisfaction of a god’s wrath, and that I think is a mistake. Many of the translators, including those behind the King James, were Calvinists for whom atonement simply was the satisfaction of wrath, so substituting one word for the other cost them nothing. It costs us a great deal, because it smuggles a whole theory of the atonement into a word that never meant it.

    Hebrews and the Heavenly Tabernacle

    The book of Hebrews was written, in part, to explain how atonement works, and the author is insistent on a point modern readers tend to spiritualize away: there is a real tabernacle in heaven. The one Moses built was a copy and shadow of it. When I have tried to describe this to people, they reach for “in a spiritual sense,” but the writer of Hebrews means something more concrete. The cleansing capable of pouring God’s Spirit out on all flesh, as happened at Pentecost, could only be accomplished by a sacrifice offered not in an earthly sanctuary but in the heavenly original. He grounds this in Moses himself:

    Who serve unto the example and shadow of heavenly things, as Moses was admonished of God when he was about to make the tabernacle: for, See, saith he, that thou make all things according to the pattern shewed to thee in the mount.

    And he presses it further: Christ entered not the holy places made with hands, the mere figures of the true, but heaven itself, to appear before God for us. Whatever reality you grant the earthly Ark, Hebrews ranks it below the heavenly one, which is the real thing.

    Around this the author builds a careful case. First he must show that Jesus can be a high priest at all, since he came from Judah, not Levi. His answer is that Jesus belongs to a different and older order, the priesthood of Melchizedek. Then he establishes the real sanctuary above. Then he explains why a new covenant was needed in the first place: the old one was limited at every point, by the mortality of its priests, the earthliness of its tabernacle, the blood of animals, all of which capped how far its cleansing could reach. A greater atonement required a greater priest and a greater place. He brings the threads together in chapter nine:

    But Christ being come an high priest of good things to come, by a greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to say, not of this building; Neither by the blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood he entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us… How much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?

    The whole new covenant hinges on a logical fact: that Jesus is a real high priest, and that there is a real place in heaven for him to do his work. This, I suspect, is what Paul means in 1 Corinthians 15:17, that if Christ is not raised, our faith is vain and we are still in our sins. Read against Piper, the difference is sharp. For Piper the verse means the resurrection confirms a finished transaction. For Paul it means something stronger: you are not forgiven unless Jesus is raised. That can only be true if the dying was not the whole of the atonement. A Christ who died but never rose and ascended is a sacrifice slaughtered but never presented, blood that never reached the mercy seat, an atonement left unfinished.

    There is one more strand here I want to flag without overreaching. A high priest also maintains the covenant through ongoing intercession, which Hebrews ties to Christ’s endless life: he is able to save completely because he ever lives to intercede. I do not yet understand this aspect as well as I would like, so I will only note the obvious point. A dead savior cannot intercede. The resurrection is the condition of his ongoing priestly work as much as of his finished sacrifice.

    How Jesus Becomes Lord

    The second reason runs through the whole New Testament and is easy to miss: the enthronement, the way Jesus comes into his lordship.

    This is delicate, because in one sense Jesus was already Lord before his ordeal on earth. Yet the New Testament returns again and again, not in a stray verse here or there but as a steady theme, to the claim that through his resurrection he is given something. He is appointed heir. He is declared Son of God with power. The passages are worth reading rather than summarizing, so let me set several of them down.

    Romans 1:4:

    And declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead.

    The verse ties the declaration to the resurrection. Was Jesus the Son of God before that? Yes, and we will come to it. But notice the qualifier: Son of God with power.

    Another important passage is as follows:

    And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth. Philippians 2:8-10

    The hinge is “wherefore.” Paul does not say Jesus was exalted alongside his humbling but because of it. The exaltation is the Father’s response to the obedience of the cross, and a reward genuinely earned cannot be something he already possessed in full.

    So this is not a return to a position temporarily set aside. It is an exaltation earned through suffering and issuing in a rule acknowledged everywhere, exactly the pattern the argument has been tracing. The one caveat: this need not mean the eternal Son changed in nature. The change is one of office and exercise, which is why it fits Orr’s middle view rather than the stronger claim that Jesus was not Lord at all before Easter.

    Ephesians 1:20 through 22 makes the same move more fully, speaking of what God accomplished in Christ:

    Which he wrought in Christ, when he raised him from the dead, and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places, Far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come: And hath put all things under his feet, and gave him to be the head over all things to the church.

    Here the two themes arrive together, resurrection and enthronement at the right hand, and Paul tells us what the new authority amounts to. It is dominion. Nothing in Christ’s nature changed. What changed was the throne and the power that go with it.

    The picture I keep returning to is a king and his son. In the ordinary course of things the crown prince is royal by birth but does not rule until the old king dies and authority passes to him. They are of one substance; the son will be king; but the power transfers at a moment. The analogy breaks at the obvious place, since God never dies, so instead the Father voluntarily hands the Son all authority, in effect saying, “You take care of it.” And this happens only after a particular sequence: resurrection, ascension, enthronement.

    Hebrews 5:8 through 9 carries the same logic, that something was gained through the ordeal itself:

    Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered; And being made perfect, he became the author of eternal salvation unto all them that obey him.

    Whatever else is happening there, the Son who needed nothing nevertheless learned obedience through suffering and then became the author of eternal salvation. The nature held constant; an office was entered. Jesus says it of himself in Revelation 3:21, speaking to the churches:

    To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne.

    He had to overcome in order to sit down with his Father on the throne. A change comes through the cross.

    Revelation 4 and 5 dramatize the whole thing. In chapter four the Father sits enthroned, worshiped without ceasing by angels crying “Holy, holy, holy,” surrounded by twenty-four elders, holding in his right hand a scroll sealed with seven seals. Then the scene turns on a crisis:

    And I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, Who is worthy to open the book, and to loose the seals thereof? And no man in heaven, nor in earth, neither under the earth, was able to open the book, neither to look thereon. And I wept much, because no man was found worthy to open and to read the book, neither to look thereon.

    There is weeping in heaven, because no one is worthy. Then comes the resolution, announced by one of the elders: the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has prevailed. What John actually sees, though, is not a lion but a Lamb:

    And I beheld, and, lo, in the midst of the throne and of the four beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent forth into all the earth. And he came and took the book out of the right hand of him that sat upon the throne.

    Before this the living creatures and elders had sung “Holy, holy, holy” to the Father. Now they fall down before the Lamb and sing a new song:

    Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation; And hast made us unto our God kings and priests: and we shall reign on the earth. And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne and the beasts and the elders: and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands; Saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard I saying, Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever.

    The slain Lamb becomes worthy to take the scroll because it was slain, and recieve the dominion of all things.

    Scholars handle the obvious tension here in different ways, and Peter Orr has usefully mapped them. At one end, Christ is fully Lord throughout and merely lays his lordship aside at the cross, so that the resurrection discloses what was always true without adding anything new. At the other end, the pre-Easter references to his lordship are anticipatory, so that when Jesus accepts the title “Lord” he is claiming what he will only truly hold once he receives the throne; the enthronement is what actually makes him Lord. In between, and this is where Orr himself lands, Jesus is truly Lord beforehand but enters his lordship in a fuller and more real way afterward. The one born Christ and Lord, whose lordship was silenced at the crucifixion, is made Lord and Christ through his literal enthronement at God’s right hand, like a prince who is royal by birth yet not king until the day of his crowning. Nothing changes in his nature, only his coronation.

    Because he humbled himself to the point of death, God highly exalted him. The resurrection and exaltation let him enter the full reality of his Davidic role.

    The Spirit Withheld Until the King Was Crowned

    The third reason is the most surprising of all. The outpouring of the Spirit was deliberately held back until the King was enthroned.

    It is not simply that Pentecost had to wait for the cross. Jesus says something stranger than that. He tells the disciples plainly that it is to their advantage that he go away, because only if he departs will the Spirit come to them. Read that slowly. His leaving is not an unfortunate cost that the Spirit’s arrival makes up for. His leaving is the precondition. The implicit claim is bold: the universal outpouring of the Spirit on all flesh depended on Jesus being glorified, ascended, and seated on the throne. The whole case turns on Peter’s sermon in Acts 2, his explanation to a stunned crowd of exactly what they are seeing and hearing.

    One detail first, because it knits this section back to the first. The flames that rest over the disciples’ heads are not a random sign. The pillar of fire that led Israel through the wilderness and dwelt above the Ark was God’s own Spirit, and that is why fire attends the Spirit here as it did there. What had once filled a single sanctuary now rests on people, and it can do so because the atonement accomplished in the heavenly sanctuary has made them clean enough to hold it. The fire on their heads is the visible sign that the cleansing worked.

    Peter opens by reaching for Joel: God will pour out his Spirit on all flesh, on sons and daughters, young and old, menservants and maidservants alike. The point is that an ancient and almost impossible hope has finally landed. Under the old order the Spirit came upon a prophet here, a king there, and rested on him for a task. Moses had wished aloud that all the Lord’s people were prophets, that God would put his Spirit on every one of them. The prophets had gone further and promised it: a new covenant, with the law written on the heart and a Spirit set within, so that obedience would finally come from the inside out. The crowd at Pentecost would have known those promises well. Peter’s announcement is that the wish has come true in front of them, and then he tells them precisely how it happened:

    Therefore being by the right hand of God exalted, and having received of the Father the promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this, which ye now see and hear… Therefore let all the house of Israel know assuredly, that God hath made that same Jesus, whom ye have crucified, both Lord and Christ.

    The sequence is exact, and every step matters. Jesus is exalted to the right hand. There, in that enthroned state, he receives the promised Spirit from the Father. From there he pours it out, and the pouring is the very thing the crowd can see and hear. And because they can see it, Peter says, they may know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ. The outpouring is not merely a blessing that happens to follow the enthronement. It is the public evidence of it. This is the same Jesus who, for the joy set before him, endured the cross, overcame, became worthy to take the scroll, and sat down on the throne. The Spirit falling on the disciples is the proof, visible to anyone standing in Jerusalem that morning, that he is seated.

    If that inference feels like a stretch built out of one sermon, John states the principle flatly and removes all doubt. Commenting on an earlier promise of Jesus that rivers of living water would flow from the believer, John adds an editorial note:

    (But this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believe on him should receive: for the Holy Ghost was not yet given; because that Jesus was not yet glorified.)

    This is as plain a confirmation as the argument could ask for. Why had the Spirit not yet been given? Not because the disciples were unready, not because the time was not ripe in some vague sense, but for one specific reason: because Jesus was not yet glorified. The giving of the Spirit is made directly contingent on Christ’s glorification. And we already know from Peter when that glorification occurred. It was his sitting down at the right hand of God, the moment of enthronement, which could only follow the ascension, which could only follow the resurrection. So John 7:39 supplies the missing link in the chain. Peter shows us the enthroned Christ pouring out the Spirit; John tells us that the Spirit could not come at all until that glorification had happened. The two passages lock together. Pentecost, and I would argue the whole purpose of the new covenant, waited on the throne.

    Max Turner names the mechanism behind all of this as well as anyone:

    You cannot pour out the Spirit as the executive power of your reign until you are reigning. The throne must be occupied before the Spirit can flow from it. The outpouring is not a separate event that happens to come after the enthronement. It is the active expression of enthronement itself.

    There is one last implication, and it is the sharpest. Every one of those prophecies said that God would pour out his Spirit. It was always God’s promise, God’s act, God’s prerogative. So when Peter stands up and says that Jesus has poured this out, he is saying far more than that Jesus is enthroned. He is identifying Jesus as the one doing what only God said he would do. If Jesus is the agent of an outpouring that was always God’s to give, then Jesus stands in the place of God, at his right hand, fulfilling a divine promise as only the Son could. The Spirit at Pentecost is proof of the throne, and the throne, in turn, is a quiet but unmistakable claim to his divinity.

    Pulling It Together

    Three things, then, that the usual Easter sermon leaves out.

    The atonement was completed in heaven. In the logic of Leviticus, it was never made at the moment of slaughter but when the high priest carried the life-bearing blood into the holy place and set it on the mercy seat. The cross is the slaughter. Hebrews insists the heavenly sanctuary is a real place, and into it the risen Christ carried himself as the offering. This is why Paul can say that without the resurrection we are still in our sins. A sacrifice slaughtered but never presented atones for nothing.

    Something happened to Jesus’s status at the ascension. He is made Lord, declared Son with power, given the name above every name, seated with all authority in heaven and earth. The eternal Son did not become something he was not. The King who laid his lordship aside at the cross entered its full and active exercise, a crown prince crowned at last.

    The Spirit was always meant to be universal. Moses wished for it, Joel promised it, Jeremiah and Ezekiel made it the heart of the new covenant. But a Spirit poured out on all flesh required a universal cleansing, which only the completed atonement could provide, and it required a throne, since the Spirit is how an enthroned Lord rules and stays present to his people.

    So the cross opens the door, but the risen Christ carries the offering through it. The ascended Christ takes the throne, and from that throne the reigning Lord pours out his Spirit and draws his people into union with himself. Easter is not where the story ends. It is where the risen Christ steps through the doorway into the true sanctuary, and from there reaches back to bring us with him.

    Further Reading

    The ideas in this post lean heavily on the work of several scholars. If you want to go deeper, these are the books that shaped my thinking, roughly in order of how central they are to what I argued here.

    David M. Moffitt, Atonement and the Logic of Resurrection in the Epistle to the Hebrews. The technical work at the heart of everything I said about atonement being completed in heaven. Moffitt argues that in Hebrews, Jesus’s death does not by itself accomplish atonement. It is the presentation of his resurrected life and blood in the heavenly sanctuary that does. This is the dense, academic version, but it is the foundation.

    David M. Moffitt, Rethinking the Atonement: New Perspectives on Jesus’s Death, Resurrection, and Ascension. A more accessible collection that gathers and extends his argument, reaching beyond Hebrews into Matthew, Acts, and 1 Corinthians 15, with a foreword by N. T. Wright. If you only read one Moffitt book, this is the one to start with.

    Patrick Schreiner, The Ascension of Christ: Recovering a Neglected Doctrine. A short, readable book on why the ascension belongs in the gospel itself, not as an afterthought. Schreiner works through Christ’s ongoing ministry as prophet, priest, and king. A great on-ramp to this whole subject if the others feel too heavy.

    Peter C. Orr, Exalted Above the Heavens: The Risen and Ascended Christ. The source for my discussion of how Jesus “becomes” Lord, and the survey of scholarly views on what changed at the enthronement. Orr looks at the exalted Christ through his identity, his location, and his present activity.

    Max Turner, Power from on High: The Spirit in Israel’s Restoration and Witness in Luke-Acts. The basis for the third movement of the post, that the Spirit could not be poured out until the King was enthroned. Turner’s line about the Spirit as the executive power of Christ’s reign is drawn from this work.

    Related Reading

    Matthew Thiessen, Jesus and the Forces of Death: The Gospels’ Portrayal of Ritual Impurity within First-Century Judaism. Not cited directly above, but closely connected to the post’s underlying logic that atonement is about life cleansing death. Thiessen shows how the Gospels depict Jesus destroying the forces of death and impurity rather than abolishing the Jewish law. Worth reading alongside the others.

  • Life Is a Test: Suffering and the Meaning of Life

    There’s a kind of honesty that sounds cruel at first but turns out to be exactly what people need to hear.

    In 1914, Ernest Shackleton reportedly placed an advertisement in a London newspaper for his Antarctic expedition. The ad read something like this: Men wanted for hazardous journey. Low wages, bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger. Safe return doubtful. Honour and recognition in case of success. Whether the ad is apocryphal or not, the story endures because it captures something true about human nature — the brutal honesty of it didn’t drive people away. It drew them in. Something in us responds to a call that tells the truth about the cost, because when the stakes are real, the reward is real too.

    I want to make a similar case here. What I’m about to say might sound harsh — but I think it’s exactly what people need to hear. Life contains real tests. Your choices have real, eternal consequences. The suffering you’re going through right now is the very place where that test is being administered. And the outcome of that test is not just about whether you become a better person or whether God uses your pain for some greater good down the road. The outcome could be about heaven or hell.

    I genuinely believe that hard truth is actually more encouraging and steadying for the person lying in a hospital bed than anything they’ll typically hear from a Christian trying to explain their suffering. Not because it’s easy — it isn’t. But because it’s real. And people who are suffering don’t need comfortable half-answers. They need to know that what they’re going through actually matters, that there is a real enemy trying to use their pain against them, and that there is a real and eternal reward waiting for those who endure faithfully even unto death.

    But we need to build the case carefully. So let’s start at the beginning.


    Everything Downstream of One Conviction

    Before we get to suffering, we have to talk about the theological premise that makes all of this necessary.

    If once saved, always saved (OSAS) is true, then nothing in this post matters much. Whatever you do, however you behave in your suffering, the end is secured. But if OSAS isn’t true — if free will really matters and your choices genuinely have eternal consequences — then everything changes.

    Free will, when you actually believe in it, is a serious thing. It’s much more comfortable to believe it’s all going to work out no matter what you do. But if your choices really matter, then the question of what your suffering means stops being merely pastoral or philosophical. It becomes urgent. It becomes a matter of life and death.


    What the Bible Actually Says About Testing

    There are not one or two isolated verses about testing in the Bible. There is a consistent, pervasive, Old Testament-to-New Testament pattern of God explicitly testing people to see what they will do.

    The Old Testament Pattern

    Genesis 22:11–12 — When Abraham raised the knife over his son and the angel of the Lord stopped him, God’s own explanation for what had just happened was this:

    “Do not stretch out your hand against the lad, and do nothing to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.”

    Deuteronomy 8:2 — Moses, looking back on forty years in the wilderness, gives us the interpretive key for that entire season of Israel’s history:

    “You shall remember all the way which the LORD your God has led you in the wilderness these forty years, that He might humble you,testing you, to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep His commandments or not.”

    The wilderness, in its totality, was a test. The explicit goal was to find out what was in their hearts — whether they would obey or not. And it’s worth pausing here to remember that many people failed that test catastrophically. The earth swallowed some of them. Others were destroyed. This was not a test with automatic grace for failure. The consequences were real.

    Deuteronomy 13:3 — On false prophets who might arise and perform signs:

    “You shall not listen to the words of that prophet or that dreamer of dreams; for the LORD your God is testing you to find out if you love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul.”

    Judges 3:4 — On the pagan nations left in Canaan after the conquest:

    “They were for testing Israel, to find out if they would obey the commandments of the LORD, which He had commanded their fathers through Moses.”

    God left nations there — nations that would tempt Israel toward idolatry, toward compromise, toward sin — on purpose, as a test, to see what Israel would do. The surrounding culture is not an obstacle to the test. The surrounding culture is the test.

    Exodus 16:4 — Even the manna in the wilderness was a test:

    “Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘Behold, I will rain bread from heaven for you; and the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion every day, that I may test them, whether or not they will walk in My instruction.’”

    2 Chronicles 32:31 — Of King Hezekiah:

    “Even in the matter of the envoys of the rulers of Babylon, who sent to him to inquire of the wonder that had happened in the land, God left him alone only to test him, that He might know all that was in his heart.”

    Jeremiah 17:10 — A summary statement from God Himself:

    “I, the LORD, search the heart, I test the mind, even to give to each man according to his ways, according to the results of his deeds.”

    The Book of Job: The Test Laid Bare

    Job is the Old Testament’s most transparent window into why testing happens and what is actually at stake. We get to see the backstage conversation that usually remains hidden.

    Here is Job: blameless, upright, fearing God, turning away from evil. And Satan comes before the Lord with a charge. The charge is not that Job is a sinner. The charge is that Job’s righteousness is bought — that he serves God only because God blesses him. Take away the blessing, Satan says, and Job will curse God to his face.

    What is at stake in the book of Job? Exactly one thing: whether Job will sin. That’s it. Everything — the loss of his children, his wealth, his health, the horrific suffering of his body — is all organized around that single question. Will he sin? Will he curse God?

    And the answer, at the end, is: “In all this, Job did not sin.”

    Job passes. And I believe one of the reasons he passes — is that what God initially says about him is true, he has a genuine fear of God. He knows, in some form, that sin has real consequences in the afterlife. m

    The New Testament Raises the Stakes

    The New Testament picks up this testing theme and sharpens it.line.

    James 1:12:

    “Blessed is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him.”

    This is an if-then statement with eternity on both sides. Once he has been approved — that approval is not guaranteed. The blessing is conditional on perseverance. The crown of life is what’s at stake.

    Luke 8:13 — Jesus himself, explaining the Parable of the Sower:

    “Those on the rocky soil are those who, when they hear, receive the word with joy; and these have no firm root; they believe for a while, and in time of temptation fall away.”

    Jesus is not describing unbelievers who never responded to the gospel. He is describing people who heard, who received the word with joy, who believed. These are people who had a genuine response to the message of the kingdom — and then, in time of temptation, fell away.

    1 Thessalonians 3:4–5 — Paul writing to the Thessalonians about why he sent Timothy to check on them:

    “For indeed when we were with you, we kept telling you in advance that we were going to suffer affliction… For this reason, when I could endure it no longer, I also sent to find out about your faith, for fear that the tempter might have tempted you, and our labor would be in vain.”

    This passage is a remarkable window into how Paul actually thought about suffering and temptation. Notice what he was afraid of. Not that the Thessalonians had become discouraged. Not that they had lost hope or grown weary. He was afraid that the tempter had gotten to them — that Satan had used their suffering as an opportunity, and that their faith had not survived it. And notice what that would have meant: Paul’s labor would have been in vain. Not diminished. Not partially wasted. Vain.

    Revelation 2:10:

    “Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Behold, the devil is about to cast some of you into prison, so that you will be tested, and you will have tribulation for ten days. Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life.”

    These are Christians. They are going to suffer. They are going to be tested. And the instruction is: be faithful until death. The implication of that instruction is clear — faithfulness is required, and its absence has consequences. The crown of life is not promised to those who simply endure passively. It is promised to those who are faithful in the endurance.


    The Two Typical Explanations Of Suffering — And What They Miss

    When Christians suffer, there are typically two explanations offered, both of them biblical, both of them true, and both of them incomplete.

    The first is Romans 8:28 — God is going to work this together for good. Something redemptive will come out of this. You don’t know what He’s doing, but He’s doing something. He’s going to use your cancer, your loss, your crisis, to accomplish something good in this world.

    The second is the refining explanation — suffering is the fire that purifies gold. It is producing something in you. Romans 5:3–4:

    “We also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope.”

    Both of these are real. Both are biblical. I’m not dismissing either of them.

    But here is the problem: both of them are almost entirely this-life-focused. God is going to use this for good — for someone, somewhere, in this world. Or: this is going to make you a better, more complete person in this life. The application is horizontal.

    But we need the third explanation — not to replace the other two, but to complete them. And it is this: this suffering is often a test of whether you will sin in the midst of that suffering or not, and the outcome of that test has eternal consequences.


    What Is Actually Being Tested

    Here is something that almost nobody in modern Christianity is talking about: when you are suffering, you are often being tempted to sin.

    Satan’s weapon of choice is suffering, because suffering is where we are most vulnerable — when everything is taken away, when the body is in pain, when the losses mount and the isolation deepens, that is when the temptations hit hardest.

    The first and most obvious temptation is bitterness toward God. It usually doesn’t start with outright cursing — it starts with a question. Why is He doing this to me? What did I do to deserve this? Where is God in all of this? That spiral, if you follow it long enough, ends in the same place Job’s wife ended up: cursing the God who allowed the suffering. Satan will push on this one with everything he has, because it’s his easiest win.

    But when that doesn’t work, he changes tactics. He goes after unforgiveness. In any prolonged suffering event — a long illness, a financial collapse, a broken relationship — there are going to be micro-betrayals. Doctors who make mistakes. Friends who don’t show up. Family members who say the wrong thing. People who were supposed to help and didn’t. And Satan is going to use every single one of those as a wedge.

    Unforgiveness is not a minor matter in the New Testament. Jesus says it plainly, more than once, if you do not forgive others, your Father will not forgive you.

    Satan will also come after you with sensuality, with anger, with the temptation to numb the pain in ways that lead to death. He is prowling around looking for whom he may devour, and suffering is his hunting ground.


    The Hard Truth Is the Encouraging Truth

    Now I want to come back to where we started. Because everything I’ve said so far might sound grim. Life is a test. Suffering is a temptation mechanism. Your choices matter. Hell is on the line.

    That sounds like bad news. But I want to argue that it is, in a profound and perhaps surprising way, the most encouraging thing a person in the midst of suffering can hear.

    The person who is dying of cancer, who has been told by everyone around them that God is going to work this together for good, who has been reassured that God loves them and has a plan — that person is still in pain. And the reassurance, as well-intentioned as it is, doesn’t reach them in the place where they most need to be reached. Because the suffering is not mostly about God’s plan for the world. The suffering is happening to them, now, in their body, in their life, today.

    But now tell that person the other thing. Tell them: what you do in this suffering matters. Your soul is on the line. Satan is coming for you right now, and he wants you to curse God, to hold on to unforgiveness, to give up. And if you fight him — if you endure faithfully — you will receive the crown of life. And not just the crown of life in some abstract doctrinal sense, but the real thing: an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, something no eye has seen and no ear has heard.

    Paul says it plainly in 2 Corinthians 4:17:

    “For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”


    The Narrow Road and the Shape of This Age

    Let me say something about the bigger picture, because the testing framework isn’t just about individual suffering events. It’s about what this age — this whole period of human history — actually is.

    The earth, as originally intended, was not a test, or at least not in the way it is now.

    Something was disrupted when the enemy entered the picture and death entered the world through sin. What we are living in now — this broken, painful, morally charged existence — is not Plan A. It is the working out of a cosmic disruption, and God is, as He always does, working even that together for good.

    And the good He is working toward is this: He is choosing people. He is identifying, out of the whole of humanity, those who will pass through the narrow gate. Very few find it. Jesus is explicit about this:

    “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it. For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it.” (Matthew 7:13–14)

    This is a choosing ground. That’s what this age is. The ones who pass through — who endure faithfully, who keep their allegiance to King Jesus — they are not just kingdom citizens. They are heirs. Paul says it: heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ. That is a designation beyond what any of us can fully comprehend.

    What comes next — what these heirs are being prepared for — is something about which the Bible says: “Things which eye has not seen and ear has not heard, and which have not entered the heart of man, all that God has prepared for those who love Him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

    Think about what eternity actually means. In eight hundred million years — in ten trillion years — the people who passed through this narrow road, who endured faithfully in this brief and brutal training ground, will still be alive, still be who they are, still be the ones who endured. This age — this whole age — will be looked back on as the early days.

    The mythical time when a cosmic rebellion happened and God, rather than simply undoing it, used it to call out a people for Himself. And not just any people — heirs. Sons and daughters. Those who passed through something the angels never faced: a free will gauntlet, a world filled with suffering and temptation and real consequences.

    There is reason to think that what comes out of this age is something greater than what existed before it — beings who are not merely created righteous, but proven righteous. Who chose God when they didn’t have to. That may be precisely why Paul says we will judge angels.


    What Faithfully Enduring Through Suffering Actually Looks Like

    I want to be specific about what it means to endure faithfully, because it is not passive. It is not gritting your teeth and surviving. It is active warfare.

    When Satan comes at you and tells you to hate the person who wronged you: you love them instead. You forgive them. Not because it feels good — it won’t — but because you know what is at stake. When Satan comes at you and tells you to start drinking again, to give in to whatever the flesh is drawn toward in the darkness: you resist him. James 4:7: “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” That promise is real, and it is for people who are fighting, not coasting.


    The Gospel of the King and the Only Response That Makes Sense

    All of this leads back to the gospel — the actual gospel, not the reduced version.

    The gospel is not primarily “Jesus died so your sins are forgiven.” That is part of it. But the full announcement is: Jesus Christ is the King of the universe. He has been raised from the dead and enthroned. He reigns. And the appropriate response to that announcement is allegiance — bending the knee, pledging your loyalty to him as King.

    And if he is your King, then the next thing you do is ask what he wants. You open Matthew. You read the Sermon on the Mount. You hear what the King says about how to live, and you do it, because he is your King and that is what allegiance means.

    The end of the Sermon on the Mount says it plainly:

    “Therefore everyone who hears these words of Mine and acts on them, may be compared to a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and yet it did not fall, for it had been founded on the rock. Everyone who hears these words of Mine and does not act on them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and it fell — and great was its fall.” (Matthew 7:24–27)

    The floods are coming. The winds are coming. Suffering is coming. And the only question is whether you’ve built on the rock of obedience to the King or the sand of believing that it doesn’t really matter what you do.

    It matters. It matters enormously. And the good news — the genuinely good news — is that you are not alone in the fight. The King knows you are being tested. He has passed through his own test and emerged victorious. He has sent his Spirit as a deposit and a help. He does not want you to perish. He is testing you because he loves you and because he is choosing you, and his deepest desire is that you pass.

    A Word on Failing Tests — and God’s Patience

    I want to make sure I’m not being misunderstood here, because this is important.

    When I say that these tests are pass-fail and that hell is on the line, I am not saying that if you fail a test, that’s it — you’re done, you’re going to hell. That is not how this usually works.

    God does not want anyone to perish. That isn’t a platitude — it’s a theological conviction that shapes everything about how He deals with us. He is patient. He is long-suffering. And because of that, He keeps sending tests. He keeps giving opportunities. He is, in a very real sense, rooting for you to pass.

    Think about Israel in the wilderness. They failed constantly. They failed spectacularly. And God kept working with them, kept pursuing them, kept offering another chance. The tests didn’t stop after the first failure, or the fifth, or the fiftieth.

    But here’s the other side of that: there are only so many years in your life. There are only so many opportunities. A life is a finite thing, and eventually the tests stop

    This is why the urgency matters. Not because one failure condemns you, but because patterns form, and habits harden, and the person who keeps failing the same test — who keeps choosing sin when the pressure comes — is moving in a direction. And that direction has a destination. The good news is that you can change direction at any point. The door is open. But it will not be open forever.

    So if you have been failing your tests — if suffering has made you bitter, if you have been holding onto unforgiveness, if you have been running toward sin instead of away from it — this is not a eulogy. This is a warning with an invitation attached. God is still testing you because He still wants you to pass. The fact that you are still here, still reading this, is itself evidence of His patience.

    Don’t waste it.

  • What Is Faith, Really? Why the Greek Word Pistis Changes Everything

    A deep dive into the gospel, allegiance, and why understanding one Greek word resolves some of the New Testament’s most perplexing tensions.


    Most of us think we know what faith is. You believe something. Maybe you trust it. It happens in your head, it’s invisible, and according to a lot of modern Christianity, that’s basically the whole thing — have the right belief in the right moment, and you’re in. But what if the word we translate as “faith” in the New Testament carries a far richer, more demanding, and ultimately more liberating meaning than that?

    This post is inspired by two scholars who have done substantial work on this question: Matthew Bates, author of Salvation by Allegiance Alone and Gospel Allegiance, and Scot McKnight, author of The King Jesus Gospel. Their thesis — and I think it’s compelling — is that we’ve fundamentally misunderstood both what the gospel is and what faith means. And getting both of those things wrong has enormous consequences for how we live as Christians.


    First Things First: What Is the Gospel?

    Before we can talk about faith as a response to the gospel, we have to be clear on what the gospel actually is. Because there’s a good chance your picture of it is incomplete.

    Both Bates and McKnight argue — and I think the early church would agree — that the gospel is the objective facts concerning the entire career of Jesus as Messiah. That includes:

    • His pre-existence (he was with God in the beginning)
    • His incarnation
    • His death for sins
    • His burial
    • His resurrection
    • His post-resurrection appearances
    • His enthronement at the right hand of the Father
    • The sending of the Holy Spirit
    • His future return

    This is why the four books are called Gospels — Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John — the whole story matters. Paul lays this out explicitly in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8:

    “For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. After that He appeared to more than five hundred brethren at one time, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep; then He appeared to James, then to all the apostles; and last of all, as to one untimely born, He appeared to me also.”

    And in Romans 1:1-4:

    “Paul, a bond-servant of Christ Jesus, called as an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, which He promised beforehand through His prophets in the holy Scriptures, concerning His Son, who was born of a descendant of David according to the flesh, who was declared the Son of God with power by the resurrection from the dead, according to the Spirit of holiness, Jesus Christ our Lord.”

    The gospel, in this framing, is the story of how Jesus became the Christ — the Anointed One, the Messiah, the King. If you think about it from the perspective of a first-century Jew, the whole point was convincing them that this man, Jesus, is the promised King. That’s why Matthew’s Gospel opens with a genealogy tracing Jesus back to David. It’s legal evidence for the throne. You’re not just announcing a theology — you’re announcing a coronation.

    Yes, “he died for our sins” is in there. But notice what Paul does and doesn’t say in 1 Corinthians 15. He says Jesus died for our sins. He does not explain the mechanism of how that death accomplishes forgiveness — no atonement theory is named. What he does do is spend considerable time establishing the resurrection, the appearances, and the reality of the risen Christ. The death is one part of a larger royal story. You could say it’s roughly one-tenth of the total picture.

    The gospel, then, is everything that convinces you that Jesus is the rightful King of the Universe — the King of Kings and Lord of Lords to whom all power and authority in heaven and earth have been given.


    So What Does It Mean to Have “Faith” in That King?

    Here’s where things get really interesting — and where a single Greek word becomes a kind of Rosetta Stone for the entire New Testament.

    The Greek word translated as “faith” or “believe” throughout the New Testament is πίστις (pistis). Its verbal form is πιστεύω (pisteuo). In modern English, we typically render these as “believe” or “trust” — mental states, things that happen inside your head. You assent to a proposition. You trust that something is true. That’s it.

    But Matthew Bates argues — with considerable historical and linguistic evidence — that in its first-century context, especially when used in relation to kings and kingdoms, pistis carried a much richer meaning: faithfulness, fidelity, loyalty, allegiance. Not a one-time mental event, but an active, ongoing state of being a faithful subject.

    Bates puts it this way: pistis is better understood not as “faith” in the passive, intellectual sense, but as allegiance — the kind of sworn loyalty a subject owes to a king.


    The Evidence: Josephus and the Language of Kings

    One of the most illuminating pieces of evidence Bates presents comes from the Jewish historian Josephus, who wrote in Greek roughly contemporaneously with the New Testament authors. In his autobiography, Josephus recounts a moment where he commands a rebel leader to “repent and believe in me” — using the very same Greek root (pistis).

    The context makes clear that Josephus is not asking for a religious conversion or a change of mental propositions. He is commanding the rebel to turn away from his current course of action and become a loyal, obedient subject of Josephus as his military commander. The “belief” in question was a public declaration of loyalty expressed through obedience. That is what pistis meant in the real-world context of rulers and subjects.

    When a king announced his reign, the required pistis from his subjects wasn’t merely believing that he was king. It was pledging allegiance to him and demonstrating that allegiance through obedience.

    Bates also points to passages like Romans 1:5 and Romans 16:26, which use the phrase “the obedience of faith” (hypakoē pisteōs). This isn’t faith plus obedience as two separate things. It’s the obedience that flows from allegiance — the obedience that is inherent to what faithfulness means.


    How This Resolves the New Testament’s “Contradictions”

    This is the part I find most exciting, because it resolves what looks like a hopeless tangle of competing salvation requirements in the New Testament. Let me walk through it.

    The “free grace” camp points to John 3:16:

    “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.”

    And they say: all you have to do is believe. One mental act. Done.

    But then the Church of Christ tradition points to Acts 2:38:

    “Peter said to them, ‘Repent, and each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.’”

    And they say: you must be baptized. It’s right there.

    And then there’s Luke 13:3, where Jesus says:

    “I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.”

    So now we need repentance.

    And Romans 10:9:

    “that if you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.”

    So now we need public confession too.

    And Matthew 24:13:

    “But the one who endures to the end, he will be saved.”

    Endurance to the end.

    And James 2:24:

    “You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone.”

    Works. Explicitly not faith alone.

    And Romans 2:13:

    “for it is not the hearers of the Law who are just before God, but the doers of the Law will be justified.”

    Doers, not hearers.

    So which is it? Believe? Repent? Be baptized? Confess publicly? Endure to the end? Do works?

    The answer is: all of them, and they’re all the same thing.

    When you understand pistis as allegiance, all of these passages snap into a unified picture. Bending the knee to Jesus as King — genuinely, not just intellectually — necessarily implies:

    • Repentance (metanoia — literally “a change of mind/direction”): You turn 180 degrees away from your previous lord (yourself, sin, the world) and toward Jesus as your Lord. Repentance toward God simply means you’ve decided that He is now your King.
    • Baptism: If you’ve just declared Jesus your Lord and he says “get baptized,” you get baptized. That’s what allegiance means. You do what the king says.
    • Public confession: Pledging allegiance to a king was always a public act. You don’t whisper it privately. You declare it.
    • Endurance: Allegiance is not a one-time event. A knight who pledged fealty to a king and then switched sides two years later wasn’t a faithful subject — he was a traitor. Enduring to the end is what faithfulness looks like over a lifetime.
    • Works: If you call someone your Lord but never do anything he says, you don’t actually think he’s your Lord. Jesus makes this point with devastating clarity in Luke 6:46:

    “Why do you call Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?”

    James is making the exact same point: works aren’t an addition to faith; they’re the evidence of it. Faith without works is dead because faithfulness without action isn’t faithfulness at all.


    The Luther Problem

    At this point, you might be wondering: why haven’t we always understood it this way? The answer involves one towering historical figure: Martin Luther.

    Luther’s great contribution to Western Christianity — the doctrine of justification by faith alone (sola fide) — was forged in polemical reaction to a corrupt Catholic system of indulgences and purchased merit. And in many ways, he was right to push back on that system. But in doing so, he overcorrected in a way that has shaped Protestant Christianity to this day.

    Luther essentially taught that when Jesus gave his commands — love your enemies, sell what you have, keep my commandments — he was using them to show us how impossible obedience is, so that we’d give up on works altogether and rest in grace alone. It’s as if Jesus was winking at us when he said “do this” — what he really meant was “you can’t do this, so stop trying.”

    Luther went so far as to say that even teaching that Jesus’s commandments need to be obeyed is itself a sin. His theology systematically disarmed the church from taking Jesus’s own words seriously as instructions for living.

    This is not a small thing. If the King issues commands, and you tell people the King was winking when he gave them, you’ve fundamentally undermined the entire concept of allegiance. You’ve made the kingdom a fiction.

    The deeper issue is free will. Luther followed Augustine (as an Augustinian monk), and Augustine taught that human beings don’t have genuine free will — a position that led directly to the doctrines of total depravity and unconditional election as systematized later by Calvin. If you don’t have free will, you can’t bend the knee on your own. God has to save you first, and then you can have faith. Salvation precedes faith, rather than faith being the moment of allegiance that initiates salvation.

    This is why Calvinist and Reformed traditions tend to react so strongly against the allegiance framework: it requires free will. It requires that you can actually hear the gospel, decide that Jesus is Lord, and give your allegiance to him. The Reformed tradition says that’s structurally impossible without prior regeneration.

    It’s also why “once saved, always saved” (or perseverance of the saints in its more technical form) feels necessary in that framework. If your salvation was entirely God’s unilateral act, it can’t be undone. But if salvation is covenantal allegiance — if it’s a real relationship involving real loyalty — then the possibility of breaking that covenant, of ceasing to be faithful, is built in.

    And the New Testament is absolutely full of that possibility. You can be cut off (Romans 11:22). You can be spit out (Revelation 3:16). You can begin to grow and then wither (the parable of the soils in Matthew 13). You can be a branch that fails to abide and is gathered and burned (John 15:6). Jesus says in John 15:1-6:

    “I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit… If anyone does not abide in Me, he is thrown away as a branch and dries up; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire and they are burned.”


    A Personal Note: Scales Falling from Eyes

    This framework didn’t come to me through intellectual argument. It came through a crisis.

    I had what I genuinely believe was a real salvation experience years ago. Then I learned about “once saved, always saved,” and — I won’t sugarcoat this — I went back to my sins for about ten years. I believed I was safe because I believed I had been saved, and I believed that couldn’t be undone. I had a theological permission slip for continuing in the very thing I needed to be freed from.

    What broke the cycle wasn’t a Bible study or a debate about OSAS. It was an overwhelming conviction — I believe from the Holy Spirit — that I needed to stop drinking alcohol or I was going to hell. Not “it might not be ideal.” Not “consider whether this aligns with your values.” I was going to hell. And I couldn’t shake it. So I quit. For good.

    And the morning after I did, I had the same experience I remembered from my original conversion — that same freedom, that same supernatural change of heart. It was like waking up.

    My wife Connie had the same experience. We’ve talked about it. It was as if we both had scales over our eyes — we knew all the passages about losing salvation, we’d read them dozens of times, but somehow couldn’t see them. And then, suddenly, we could. Not because someone showed them to us for the first time. They were already there. The scales just fell.

    I believe that’s what spiritual blindness looks like. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 4:4:

    “in whose case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelieving so that they might not see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.”

    I think one of the ways we keep ourselves blind is by refusing to repent, because we know — somewhere deep down — that genuine allegiance to Jesus would require giving up the thing we love more than him. And so we find a theology that makes that unnecessary.


    What Repentance Actually Does

    This connects to one of the most practically important things I want to say: repentance comes before the refreshing.

    Acts 3:19 puts it plainly:

    “Therefore repent and return, so that your sins may be wiped away, in order that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord.”

    The sequence matters. The freedom from sinful desire — the supernatural change of appetite that people call sanctification — does not come and then enable repentance. It comes after repentance. You turn first, and then the power to walk in the new direction is given.

    This is crucial because a lot of people are waiting to feel ready to repent before they repent. They want the desire to sin to lessen before they commit to stopping. But it works the other way around. You commit to stopping — you draw the line — and then the burden lifts.

    Start with the biggest one. Not the minor sins, not the gray areas. Start with the sin that has its hooks in you so deeply that you’d almost be willing to go to hell for it. That’s the one the allegiance decision actually costs you. And that’s the one that, when you give it up, opens the door.

    Jesus says in Luke 9:62:

    “No one, after putting his hand to the plow and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.”

    Don’t start unless you’re willing to go all the way on that one. But when you do — when you make that decision with your whole will — you will find, as I did, that it’s not the burden people think it is.


    Assurance Without OSAS

    One thing I want to address directly: if this framework is true, does it mean you can never have assurance of salvation? Are you always white-knuckling it, terrified you might fall?

    No. And this is important.

    Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 13:5:

    “Test yourselves to see if you are in the faith; examine yourselves! Or do you not recognize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you — unless indeed you fail the test?”

    Assurance comes not from a one-time event in the past — “I said a prayer in 1997” — but from being able to look at your present life and honestly say: yes, I am in the faith. The Holy Spirit is here. I am on the narrow road. I am His subject. I am doing what He says. There is grace for my failures, there is ongoing work to be done, but I am genuinely His.

    That kind of assurance is actually more secure, not less. It doesn’t depend on correctly remembering a prayer. It depends on a living relationship with a living King.

    David Bercot tells a story that I find helpful. When he was in college, he got a question right on a test but was marked wrong. He went to the professor, who admitted the answer key was wrong — but said he wasn’t going to change the grade because it would require changing everyone else’s too. Bercot protested. The professor looked at him and said: “Don’t sweat it, Bercot. You’re going to pass the class.”

    That’s kind of how sanctification works. I’m not going to get every answer right. There are sins I’m still working on, areas where I’m not yet where I need to be. But I can examine myself and know: I’m in the faith. I’m on the road. And there is plenty of grace on this road for those who are genuinely walking it.

    The King doesn’t present 50 failing grades all at once. He tends to point to the next big thing when you’re ready for it. That’s what sanctification looks like — not perfection, but progress under a patient King who is actually invested in your growth.


    The Bottom Line

    The gospel is the announcement that Jesus is the King of the Universe — the Messiah, the risen Lord, to whom all power and authority in heaven and earth have been given, and who is coming to judge the world.

    Faith — pistis — is the appropriate response to that announcement: allegiance. Bending the knee. Agreeing that he is your King and that what he says goes. Not just once, not just in your head, but as an ongoing state of faithful obedience.

    Repentance is what that looks like at the moment of entry — a 180-degree reorientation of your life toward a new Lord.

    Baptism, confession, endurance, and works are all simply what genuine allegiance looks like from different angles.

    And the gospel, understood this way, is not a burden. It’s the most liberating announcement in the history of the world: the King of Kings is standing with his arm outstretched, asking if you’ll follow him. Not just acknowledge him. Follow him. And he promises — through his blood, through the gift of his Spirit — to actually change you from the inside out so that you can.

    As long as you have breath, that offer is open.

  • The Sin of Vainglory and Rewards – Matthew 6:1-6

    Show Notes

    In this episode of Vine Abiders, Chris begins the next section of the Sermon on the Mount, exploring Matthew 6:1–6 and Jesus’ command to practice righteousness in secret. What does it mean to give, pray, and fast in a way that pleases God rather than seeking the praise of people? Chris unpacks the often-overlooked sin of vainglory, explains why Jesus emphasizes secrecy in spiritual disciplines, and explores the Bible’s surprising and repeated teaching about rewards—both in heaven and in this life. This episode examines how our motives shape our spiritual lives and why believing that God “rewards those who seek Him” is central to authentic Christian faith.

    You’ll also hear an update about the Joyful Hearts Home orphanage project in Kenya, which Chris White Ministries supports. If you’d like to follow that journey, learn more, or join in supporting the children there, see the links below.


    Links & Resources

  • Love Your Enemies – Matthew 5:43-48 – Vine Abiders

    In Matthew 5:43–48, Jesus says:

    “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’
    But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,
    so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven.”

    This teaching goes far beyond what most of us think possible. Jesus isn’t giving us poetic advice—He’s commanding us to live like our Father in heaven, who “causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good.”

    Some interpreters believe the phrase “hate your enemy” was Jesus referring to certain rabbinic or cultural traditions of His day. The Dead Sea Scrolls, written by the Essene community at Qumran, even instructed initiates to “love all the sons of light and hate all the sons of darkness” (1QS 1:9–11). You can read this text at:
    https://intertextual.bible/text/1qs.1-matthew-5.43

  • Eye for an Eye – Non Resistance – Matthew 5:38-42 – Vine Abiders

    Introduction

    Welcome back to Vine Abiders, where we study the words of Jesus verse by verse and learn what it really means to live as His disciples. In this study, we’ve come to one of the most misunderstood teachings in all of Scripture — “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”

    For many of us, that phrase immediately brings to mind vengeance or retribution — the idea of getting even. But as we’ll see, that’s not what the law originally meant at all. Jesus wasn’t overturning the Old Testament here; He was deepening it, revealing the heart behind it.

    This section of the Sermon on the Mount, found in Matthew 5:38–42, teaches something radical: the way of non-resistance — not retaliating when wronged, not clinging to our rights, and trusting God to be our defender.


    The Pattern of the Sermon on the Mount

    Throughout this section of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus follows a clear pattern.

    He quotes a command from the Old Testament — “You have heard that it was said…” — and then amplifies it to reveal the deeper heart behind the law:

    • “You shall not murder” → Don’t even be angry.
    • “You shall not commit adultery” → Don’t even lust.
    • “Love your neighbor” → Love even your enemies.

    In each case, Jesus affirms the law’s moral foundation, but then intensifies it. He takes it from the realm of outward compliance to inward transformation.

    So when He says, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,’” He isn’t contradicting Moses. He’s revealing the spiritual principle beneath it — and pushing it further.


    What “An Eye for an Eye” Really Meant

    The law of “eye for eye, tooth for tooth” comes from Leviticus 24:17–20 and similar passages in Exodus 21 and Deuteronomy 19.

    “If a man injures his neighbor, just as he has done, so it shall be done to him: fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth.”

    This wasn’t a call to revenge. It was a sentencing guideline — a judicial principle of proportional justice. Its purpose was to limit punishment, not to encourage it. It was designed to ensure that justice was measured, fair, and equal — preventing the endless cycles of blood feuds that plagued ancient societies.

    In fact, this law was rarely practiced literally in Israel’s history. Over time, it was replaced by monetary compensation. By Jesus’ day, Israel was under Roman occupation and had no authority to carry out capital punishment — that’s why the Jews had to bring Jesus before Pilate.


    Why These Laws Existed

    God gave these laws to Israel as a way to restrain sin and preserve holiness in a fallen world. They acted as guardrails, protecting His people from moral chaos.

    In a small, tightly knit community where disobedience carried severe consequences, sin was taken seriously. Even if we call that “legalism,” it worked. It kept evil in check.

    But Israel drifted from this system. By the time of the Judges, Scripture says, “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” The guardrails were gone — and corruption flourished.


    A Law Meant to Limit Vengeance

    For years, I misunderstood this verse. I thought Jesus was overturning the Old Testament, saying, “The law told you to take revenge, but I tell you not to.”

    But that’s not what’s happening.

    Jesus wasn’t rejecting the Mosaic law — He was affirming its intent and intensifying its application.

    The original law — “eye for an eye”limited vengeance. Jesus takes it a step further:

    “You’ve heard it said: Don’t take more than what’s owed.
    But I say: Don’t take vengeance at all. Don’t even resist an evil person.”

    That’s the pattern we’ve seen all along. It’s not reversal, it’s revelation.


    A Biblical Example: Escalating Vengeance

    In Genesis 34, when Dinah was raped, her brothers responded by killing every man in the city. That’s vengeance without restraint — a tragic example of how quickly justice can spiral into bloodshed.

    The law of “eye for an eye” was meant to stop that cycle — to prevent violence from escalating endlessly.

    Where vengeance multiplies destruction, God’s justice limits it.


    Justice vs. Vengeance

    There’s a crucial difference between justice and vengeance.

    When justice is carried out lawfully, within God’s order, it’s obedience. But when someone takes matters into their own hands — acting outside of that system — it becomes vengeance.

    That’s true both in ancient Israel and today. Even in modern courts, when a judge issues a sentence according to the law, it’s not personal revenge. It’s the lawful administration of justice.

    In the same way, when God commanded Israel to carry out sentences, it wasn’t about emotional retaliation — it was about obedience to His law.


    The Call to Non-Resistance

    Then Jesus takes it deeper.

    “Do not resist an evil person.
    If someone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.”

    This is one of the hardest teachings in Scripture. It’s the call to non-retaliation — to live in a way that mirrors Christ’s meekness, even when wronged.

    The early church took this seriously. In the first few centuries of Christianity, non-resistance was one of the defining marks of a true disciple.

    They believed Jesus meant what He said. And because they lived that way, they stood out in a world of violence and pride.


    The Apostles Reaffirm the Same Teaching

    Paul, Peter, and the early church all reaffirm this same principle.

    Romans 12:17–21 says:

    “Never pay back evil for evil to anyone… Never take your own revenge…
    Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

    1 Thessalonians 5:15:

    “See that no one repays another with evil for evil.”

    1 Peter 3:9:

    “Do not return evil for evil or insult for insult, but give a blessing instead.”

    The apostles didn’t soften Jesus’ command. They doubled down on it.


    Why Vengeance Feels So Good — and Why It’s So Dangerous

    There’s a reason we love revenge stories. They light up something in our brains — that little dopamine hit when the bad guy “gets what’s coming.”

    But Jesus calls us to walk away from that emotional payoff. That’s not the Kingdom’s way.

    Ignatius, one of the early church fathers, said:

    “When you are wronged, be patient.
    When slandered, bless.
    When persecuted, endure.
    When hated, return love.
    When cursed, pray.”

    That’s what it means to follow Christ.


    Martin Luther’s Reversal

    Interestingly, Martin Luther rejected this teaching outright. He called it “foolishness” to turn the other cheek. To Luther, the Sermon on the Mount wasn’t meant to be lived — it was meant to show us that we can’t live it.

    He believed Jesus’ impossible standard was meant only to drive us to grace.

    But that interpretation — though influential — departs from how the early church read these words. They saw the Sermon on the Mount not as an unattainable ideal, but as a blueprint for discipleship.

    And they lived it — even when it cost them their lives.


    When You’re Wronged

    Jesus also says,

    “If anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, let him have your coat also.”

    That’s not natural. It’s faith in action.

    Paul echoes this in 1 Corinthians 6:7:

    “Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be defrauded?”

    That’s radical obedience. It’s trusting God when you’re being mistreated.

    Why? Because obedience isn’t about results — it’s about trust. God says, “Vengeance is Mine.” Do we trust Him enough to let Him handle it?


    The Second Mile

    “If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two.”

    Roman soldiers had the right to force civilians to carry their packs for one mile. Jesus tells His followers to go two.

    That’s not weakness — that’s witness.
    That’s showing the world what grace looks like in action.


    Giving Without Resistance

    “Give to him who asks of you, and do not turn away from him who wants to borrow from you.”

    This isn’t just about generosity — it’s about non-resistance in giving. When someone asks, we don’t withhold.

    It’s a call to open-handedness — to live with the same self-giving spirit that Jesus displayed.


    Why Live This Way?

    Why would anyone live like this — refusing to retaliate, giving up their rights, letting others take advantage?

    Because Jesus promised there’s a reward for those who do.

    “Love your enemies, do good, lend expecting nothing in return,
    and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High.”
    Luke 6:35–36

    “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
    Matthew 5:10

    “If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed,
    because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you.”
    1 Peter 4:14

    When we refuse vengeance, God takes up our cause.
    He shapes our character, strengthens our hope, and uses our lives as a witness to the world.


    Conclusion: The Way of Trust

    God’s eye is on the one who refuses vengeance.
    He fights for them, provides for them, shapes them, and uses their obedience to change others.

    That’s faith — trusting that if we live His way, He’ll take care of the rest.

    The early church believed that, lived that, and the world was never the same.

  • The Deformation 5 – Imputed Righteousness and Union with Christ

    The Deformation 5 – Imputed Righteousness and Union with Christ

    TL;DL
    The Reformers taught that God legally credits Christ’s perfect obedience to believers—an unchangeable courtroom verdict called imputed righteousness.But Scripture’s emphasis is not on a legal transfer; it’s on union with Christ—a living participation in His life. Our righteousness isn’t Christ’s moral record applied to us, but God’s righteousness shared with us through being in Him.

    In this view, salvation is relational and dynamic, not static or abstract. Remaining or abiding in Christ is essential; righteousness endures only as long as that union does. The call to holiness is therefore not optional but vital, because our standing before God depends on abiding in the Righteous One, not merely on a past declaration.
    See the full post on Substack here https://substack.com/@vineabiders

  • Should Christians Take Oaths? – Matthew 5:33-37

    Matthew 5:33–37 NASB

    “Again, you have heard that the ancients were told, ‘You shall not make false vows, but shall fulfill your vows to the Lord.’
    But I say to you, make no oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is the footstool of His feet, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King.
    Nor shall you make an oath by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black.
    But let your statement be, ‘Yes, yes’ or ‘No, no’; anything beyond these is of evil.” YouVersion | The Bible App | Bible.com

    Jesus here is not merely refining how we swear; He is forbidding oath-making entirely.

    And later, James 5:12 NASB reinforces the same teaching:

    But above all, my brothers and sisters, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or with any other oath; but your yes is to be yes, and your no, no, so that you may not fall under judgment.YouVersion | The Bible App | Bible.com

    With those texts in view, let us walk through what the Bible teaches about oaths and vows, why this is serious, and how it applies today.


    Oaths vs. Vows — Clarifying the Terms

    To understand what Jesus forbids, we should distinguish between oaths and vows (or solemn promises).

    • Oath: a public guarantee of one’s speech or promise, often invoking God or something sacred to validate one’s truthfulness (e.g. “I swear before God that this is true”). It is directed toward assuring others of your sincerity or faithfulness.
    • Vow: a solemn promise or dedication made before God, binding oneself to some act, abstention, service, or offering (e.g. a personal vow to fast, a Nazirite vow, or in some forms a marriage vow).

    The difference is subtle but important: oaths are about proving the truth of one’s statement, often by invoking God’s name, whereas vows are about committing oneself before God. The Bible treats both seriously—but in different categories.


    Biblical Foundations: Why Oaths Are Prohibited, Vows Are Regulated

    Old Testament Context

    The Old Testament contains many passages about oaths and vows. A few examples:

    • Numbers 30:2 (NASB):

    “If a man makes a vow to the LORD, or swears an oath to bind himself by a pledge, he shall not break his word; he shall do according to all that proceeds out of his mouth.”

    • Deuteronomy 23:21–23 (NASB) says in part:

    “When you make a vow to the LORD your God, you shall not delay to pay it, for the LORD your God will certainly require it of you; and if you refrain from vowing, it would not be a sin in you. But you shall be careful to fulfill what has passed your lips, for you vowed to the LORD your God what you have promised with your mouth.”

    • Ecclesiastes 5:4–5 (NASB) warns:

    “When you vow a vow to God, do not delay in paying it; for He has no pleasure in fools. Pay what you vow. Better not to vow than to vow and not pay.”

    From these, we see that:

    1. Vows are not abol­ished—but once made, they are serious and must be honored.
    2. God expects integrity: if you set your word before Him, you should fulfill it.
    3. The failure to vow is not, in itself, sin; but making a vow lightly is dangerous.

    Also, the Third Commandment—“You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain” (Exodus 20:7)—is widely understood to forbid not only profanity but also misuse of God’s name, including perjury (using God’s name to back up false statements). In Leviticus 19:12 we read:

    “You shall not swear falsely by My name, so I will not hold guiltless the one who takes My name in vain. I am the LORD.”

    Violating an oath made in God’s name is, thus, a serious defilement—dragging His name into a lie.

    Historical examples underscore God’s seriousness:

    • Saul and the Gibeonites (2 Samuel 21): Because Saul broke a long-standing oath to the Gibeonites, Israel faced famine and reaped dire consequences.
    • Zedekiah’s oath to Babylon (2 Chronicles 36; Ezekiel 17): Though his oath was to a pagan king, God judged him for violating it—showing that oaths sworn even to unbelievers carry weight before the Lord.

    These examples demonstrate that God regards oaths as binding—even toward those who are not God’s people.


    Jesus’ Teaching: A Radical Prohibition

    In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus radicalizes the old commands. Rather than permitting oaths under certain conditions, He says:

    “make no oath at all … But let your statement be, ‘Yes, yes’ or ‘No, no’; anything beyond these is of evil.”

    He is sweeping away the loopholes and excusing formulas the Pharisees employed (e.g. “I swear by the temple, but not by the gold of the temple”). In doing so, He insists on a posture of sincerity and utter simplicity. His followers are to live in such honesty that no oath is needed.

    James echoes this command nearly in the same words:

    “Do not swear … but your yes is to be yes, and your no, no, so that you may not fall under judgment.”

    Jesus’ and James’ warnings: invoking God’s name to reinforce our word is unnecessary if our life is built on truthfulness. Reliance on outward guarantees points to a deeper lack of integrity.


    Why Oaths Matter to God

    1. Borrowing God’s reputation
      When we swear by God, we are effectively putting His name on the line for our truthfulness. If we break our oath, we not only break trust with the person but we bring dishonor onto God, dragging His reputation into falsehood.
    2. Character disclosure
      Jesus’ command implies that Christians ought to exhibit such consistent truthfulness that no additional assurance is needed. Integrity should characterize every word we speak—so “Yes” is trusted, “No” is trusted, without needing external guarantees.
    3. Accountability and judgment
      The text warns that those who misuse oaths may fall under God’s judgment. It signals that God doesn’t take lightly what His name is enlisted into.

    Modern Applications: Where Oaths Appear Today

    Let’s look at some modern contexts in which oaths arise, and how a Christian committed to Jesus’ teaching might handle them.

    Legal & Civil Oaths

    • Court oaths / affidavits
    • Jury oaths
    • Public office oaths
    • Citizenship oaths

    In many legal systems (especially in the U.S.), one can legally affirm rather than swear an oath. Christians historically (e.g. Quakers, Mennonites, Amish) have used affirmations to avoid swearing by God’s name while still giving a binding pledge. If forced to choose, one should request an affirmation and avoid religious language like “so help me God” or raising ones hand etc.

    Military Service & Allegiance Oaths

    This is one area where things start to overlap with other serious questions for Christians—like violence, allegiance, and obedience to Christ. The early church took Jesus’ words about oaths very seriously, but they also took other words of His just as literally—particularly the command to love your enemies.

    For them, loving your enemies meant not killing them. That conviction, combined with Jesus’ clear prohibition against taking oaths, was one of the main reasons early Christians refused to join the military. They couldn’t reconcile swearing allegiance to Caesar or pledging to obey military commands with following the One who said, “Do not resist an evil person.”

    If this is something you’re wrestling with, I’d really encourage watching a short documentary called What If Jesus Meant Every Word That He Said? It’s a thought-provoking look at how some people in the military have wrestled with taking Jesus’ teachings seriously—especially on non-violence and allegiance.

    As for me, I’m still working through all of this too. I don’t claim to have it all figured out. But I do know that if you’re in the military or thinking about joining, the oath issue alone should at least give you pause. The same goes for anyone taking any kind of formal pledge of allegiance.

    If you’re convicted by Jesus’ teaching about oaths, there may be alternatives available. Most branches of service or government institutions have provisions for people who object to oath-taking on religious grounds—usually an “affirmation” clause that removes the religious invocation. But even so, I’d say there are bigger issues at play in the military context than just the oath itself.

    Marriage Vows

    Marriage is a covenant. The Bible does not prescribe a fixed ceremonial vow formula, but many modern wedding vows function similarly to oaths (“I vow to … before God …”). While these are not explicitly prohibited, we should treat them as solemn promises, with caution regarding invoking God’s name lightly. Simplifying them to clear affirmations of covenant might better reflect the spirit of Jesus’ teaching.


    What to Do When Past Oaths or Vows Are Broken

    If you have taken oaths or made vows and have not kept them:

    1. Confess before God, seeking His mercy.
    2. Where possible, fulfill the vow or oath in a righteous way (if it is not sinful).
    3. In some cases—if the vow was rash, frivolous, or sinful—prayerful repentance and seeking God’s guidance is appropriate rather than attempting fulfillment at all cost.
    4. From now on, commit to speaking truthfully without reliance on oaths.

    The key is not to despair but to become more faithful in speech from here forward.


    Living Without Oaths — A Witness of Integrity

    Most of us have made statements like “I swear to God,” or promised “I’ll never do X” in strong terms. But now that we see the weight of those words, we are called to a higher path: let our “Yes” be “Yes,” and our “No” be “No”—with no need for oath-making.

    A Christian who lives this way will manifest consistent integrity, and the world may see in that reliability a quiet but powerful testimony to the God we serve.

  • Remarriage After Divorce is Adultery – Vine Abiders

    Show Notes:

    Remarriage After Divorce by C.A. White on Amazon:

    Free PDF of Remarriage After Divorce by C.A. White:

    https://conspiracyclothes.com/nowheretorun/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/Remarriage-After-Divorce.pdf

    Free audiobook on Youtube Remarriage After Divorce by C.A. White

    https://www.youtube.com/@NoRemarriage

    Join Chris White on Vine Abiders, a Bible study podcast and livestream where we walk through the Sermon on the Mount verse by verse. In this session, we’re looking at Matthew 5:31–32, where Jesus teaches on divorce and remarriage.

    Chris will share highlights from his book Remarriage After Divorce: A Biblical Defense of the Traditional Christian View(written under the initials C.A. White). We’ll explore:

    • The three main Christian views on divorce and remarriage.
    • Why the early church was nearly unanimous in forbidding remarriage while a spouse still lived.
    • How the Reformation shifted the discussion.
    • What Jesus and Paul actually said about this difficult subject.
    • The hard questions Christians face today if already remarried.

    Whether you’re wrestling with these teachings yourself or just want to understand Scripture more deeply, this study will give historical, biblical, and theological context to one of Jesus’ most challenging passages.

    Audio Podcast Links

    Itunes:

    Spotify: 

    Deformation Series on Substack:

    The Deformation 1 – The Early Church vs Modern Christians

    https://vineabiders.substack.com/p/the-deformation-part-1

    The Deformation 2 – Augustine, Gnosticism and Original Sin:

    https://vineabiders.substack.com/p/the-deformation-part-2

    The Deformation 3- Martin Luther, “Works of the Law” and the Sermon on the Mount:

    https://vineabiders.substack.com/p/the-deformation-part-3

    The Deformation 4 – Penal Substitutionary Atonement and Wrath Satisfaction:

    https://vineabiders.substack.com/p/the-deformation-part-4

    Vine Abiders livestreams every other Wednesday night at 7pm est: 

    Youtube: 

    https://www.youtube.com/@OSASfilm

    Facebook: 

    https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558469721149
  • Lust, Adultery, and the Fear of the Lord – Vine Abiders #3

    In this Vine Abiders livestream, we continue our series through the Sermon on the Mount and dive into one of the most direct and challenging passages—Matthew 5:27–30 on lust. Jesus equates lust with adultery of the heart and warns of eternal consequences, leaving no room for compromise. We’ll explore how the early church understood and taught this passage, why modern interpretations often dilute its meaning, and what it truly means to take Christ’s words seriously.

    Along the way, I share my own testimony of freedom from lust and pornography, the principle of “the first look is temptation, the second look is sin,” and the role of the fear of the Lord in breaking free from bondage. We’ll look at supporting scriptures across the New Testament, discuss the reality of hell, and consider practical steps to walk in holiness without loopholes or compromise.

    Whether you’re struggling with lust yourself, wrestling with what Jesus really meant, or simply seeking to grow in sanctification, this teaching is both sobering and hopeful—pointing to the power of repentance, the Holy Spirit, and the treasure of the fear of the Lord.

    Show Notes:

    Hell Testimonies:

  • More on Anger: A Study of Matthew 5:23–26 – Vine Abiders

    Welcome back to the Vine Abiders study. We are continuing our walk through the Sermon on the Mount. Last week, we began looking at Jesus’ “new commandments” in Matthew 5:21–22, where He equates anger with murder. This week, we move into verses 23–26, which are still about anger, but focus more on its consequences.

    Recap: Jesus on Anger (Matthew 5:21–22)

    Jesus says: “You have heard that the ancients were told, ‘You shall not commit murder,’ and ‘Whoever commits murder shall be liable to the court.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother shall be guilty before the court; and whoever says to his brother, ‘You good-for-nothing,’ shall be guilty before the Supreme Court; and whoever says, ‘You fool,’ shall be guilty enough to go into the fiery hell.”

    We asked the question: what are we going to do with Jesus’ teaching? He seems to be giving us new commandments to follow, which is very different from the way most evangelical churches present this passage. Luther and later Protestant tradition often taught that Jesus’ impossible commands were simply meant to show us we cannot obey. But the early church understood differently. Polycarp, a disciple of John the Apostle, said: “He who raised Him up from the dead will raise us up also, if we do His will and walk in His commandments, and love what He loved, keeping ourselves from all unrighteousness, covetousness, love of money, evil speaking, false witness, not rendering evil for evil, railing for railing, blow for blow, or cursing for cursing.”

    The early church was consistent. They did not teach sinless perfection. They did not teach salvation by works. They taught that salvation is free and undeserved, but that abiding in Christ means continuing in Him—keeping His commandments by the power of the Spirit. When Jesus says anger is equivalent to murder, He is stating truth, not exaggeration. Indulging lust means the only thing keeping you from adultery is opportunity. Indulging anger means the only thing keeping you from murder is opportunity. Virtue is not found in the absence of opportunity; it is found in resisting the desire itself.

    Anger as Addiction

    Anger is addictive. Biochemically, it produces dopamine just like alcohol, pornography, or gambling. The strongest dopamine rush comes when anger feels justified—when someone cuts you off in traffic, when rage-bait floods your feed, or when you see someone “get what’s coming to them.”

    For years I believed anger and lust could not be resisted, that temptation always led to sin. But I came to realize something simple and life-changing: “The first look is temptation. The second look is sin.” I can’t avoid seeing the girl walking down the street. I can’t avoid the initial spark of anger when I’m wronged. But I can resist indulging it. That’s the difference, and that’s where victory lies. Like any addiction, it’s hard at first, but resisting gets easier with practice. Resist the devil, and he will flee.

    The Fear of the Lord

    No one overcomes a loved addiction without something monumental motivating them. Meth addicts know it destroys them but keep using. Anger is no different. What then is strong enough to break its hold? The Bible tells us: the fear of the Lord.

    Isaiah 33:6 calls it “His treasure.” Proverbs 14:27 says, “The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, that one may avoid the snares of death.” Proverbs 16:6 declares, “By the fear of the Lord one keeps away from evil.”

    Do not let anyone steal this treasure from you. Many churches today downplay the fear of God, redefining it as mere reverence. But Scripture is clear: fear is fear. Jesus Himself warned about hell repeatedly, and the early church embraced holy fear as the path away from sin. Without it, the bondage of anger will never be broken.

    Anger and Prayer

    Matthew 5:23–24 says, “Therefore, if you are presenting your offering at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and present your offering.”

    Jesus says reconciliation is a higher priority than sacrifice, even higher than prayer. Before you pray, forgive. Mark 11:25–26 reinforces this: “Whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father who is in heaven will also forgive you your transgressions. But if you do not forgive, neither will your Father forgive your transgressions.”

    Peter writes in 1 Peter 3:7 that husbands must honor their wives “so that your prayers will not be hindered.” He goes on to say, “The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous, and His ears attend to their prayer, but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.”

    If you feel like your prayers are dead, consider whether unforgiveness is at the root. Scripture is blunt: God will not hear the prayers of those who will not forgive.

    Doors to the Enemy

    Paul warns in Ephesians 4:26–27: “Be angry, and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil.” Anger gives Satan a foothold. Bitterness grieves the Holy Spirit. Cain’s story in Genesis 4 illustrates this. God told him, “Sin is crouching at the door; its desire is for you, but you must master it.” Cain refused, and his anger led to murder.

    Hebrews 12:14–15 warns that bitterness can cause many to be defiled, and that those who refuse to pursue peace and sanctification “will not see the Lord.” This is not a minor issue. Anger, left unchecked, can destroy faith itself.

    Settle Quickly

    Jesus continues in Matthew 5:25–26: “Make friends quickly with your opponent at law while you are with him on the way, so that your opponent may not hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the officer, and you be thrown into prison. Truly, I say to you, you will not come out of there until you have paid the last penny.”

    The immediate context is debtor’s prison in Roman society. But the principle is broader. Settle disputes quickly, before they escalate. Paul echoes this in 1 Corinthians 6, rebuking believers for suing one another. He says, “Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be defrauded?”

    The cure for anger is dying to your rights. If you cling to fairness, you will never find peace. But if you lay down your rights—if you turn the other cheek, if you let go of your coat as well as your shirt, if you walk the extra mile—you will be free.

    Practical Steps

    Fear God. Recognize that anger can damn the soul. Reconcile quickly. Do not take believers to court. Esteem others higher than yourself. Pray for your enemies, especially those who fuel your anger. Practice losing arguments and letting others have the last word. It is healing to die to self.

    Conclusion

    Anger may feel justified, but indulging it is deadly. It blocks your prayers, opens doors to Satan, defiles the soul, and endangers salvation. But through the power of the Holy Spirit, through holy fear, and through humble obedience to Jesus, anger can be overcome.

    Take Jesus at His word. Reconcile quickly. Forgive freely. Live at peace with all people. The path away from anger is not weakness—it is freedom.

    Vine Abiders Resources
    Podcast: Apple & Spotify (search Vine Abiders)
    Livestream: Wednesdays at 7 PM EST (YouTube & Facebook)
    Long-form series: The Deformation Series on Substack

  • Anger – A Serious Sin – Livestream – Chris White

    Join me for the first Vine Abiders episode 1, a livestream with Chris White, the producer of the documentary “Once Saved Always Saved?”

    Summary:

    In Matthew 5, Jesus makes it clear that anger is no small matter. He equates it with murder in the same way He equates lust with adultery. The early church understood this plainly: Jesus meant what He said, and His commandments are to be obeyed. That doesn’t mean sinless perfection, but it does mean living in repentance and taking His words seriously.

    For me, the breakthrough came when I realized that sin often boils down to opportunity. If I allow myself the “second look” in lust, then the only thing preventing adultery is whether the right circumstances appear.

    The same is true with anger. If I indulge it, then the only thing separating me from murder is opportunity. That’s why Jesus says anger is murder.

    I’ve learned that anger functions like an addiction. Biochemically, it produces dopamine just like alcohol, pornography, or any other drug. And the strongest form of this “hit” comes when the anger feels justified—road rage, rage-bait on social media, or the “pleasure” of revenge. It’s no wonder the world is filled with it.

    But Jesus provides the antidote: “Do not resist an evil person. Turn the other cheek. Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you.” This isn’t weakness—it’s freedom.

    In my own walk, I had to confront alcohol first, then lust, and eventually the Lord put His finger on anger. I found myself ruminating, replaying offenses in my mind. That “first thought” of anger is temptation, but dwelling on it—the “second thought”—is sin. Just like lust, it’s possible to stop it with God’s help.

    The fear of the Lord is key here. It’s not just reverence—it’s the real fear that Jesus meant what He said and that anger can condemn us. That fear drives us to repentance, and repentance brings freedom.

    So how do we actually fight anger? First, recognize when you’re indulging it—whether on the road, in your head, or through endless arguments in your mind—and break the cycle. Take every thought captive. Second, obey Jesus’s direct command: pray for your enemies. When you pray for someone who has wronged you, your heart begins to change. Third, sometimes it helps to make forgiveness tangible. Writing out what someone did to you, how it made you feel, and then intentionally praying over it and crossing it out can be a powerful way to release it to God.

    This isn’t legalism. It’s about freedom. The Lord has real power to deliver us from the bondage of anger, just like any other addiction. If we take Him at His word, walk in the fear of the Lord, and obey His commands, we will find not only freedom from anger but also refreshment for our souls.

    Show Notes:

    My Testimony:

    https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/ci0Z68iZqMQ?start=268s&rel=0&autoplay=0&showinfo=0&enablejsapi=0

    The Deformation 1 – The Early Church vs Modern Christians

    https://vineabiders.substack.com/p/the-deformation-part-1

    The Deformation 2 – Augustine, Gnosticism and Original Sin:
    https://vineabiders.substack.com/p/the-deformation-part-2

    The Deformation 3- Martin Luther, “Works of the Law” and the Sermon on the Mount:
    https://vineabiders.substack.com/p/the-deformation-part-3

    The Deformation 4 – Penal Substitutionary Atonement and Wrath Satisfaction:
    https://vineabiders.substack.com/p/the-deformation-part-4