What does it really mean to have free will when God is sovereign over everything? This week Rob Jorgensen talks to Scott Christiansen to discuss his book Defeating Evil. Scott tackles one of the most misunderstood concepts in evangelical Christianity: the relationship between divine sovereignty and human responsibility. We discover that the popular notion of libertarian free will—the idea that we must have equal ability to choose or reject God for our love to be real—actually contradicts what Scripture teaches about our nature and God's grace. The Bible is clear: we are dead in our trespasses and sins, unable to seek God on our own. Yet this doesn't make our choices meaningless or reduce us to robots. Instead, Scripture reveals a beautiful truth: God's sovereignty doesn't diminish our responsibility but establishes it within His perfect plan. When we properly understand who God is (fully sovereign), who we are (creatures dependent on our Creator), what sin is (enslaving and deceptive), and what salvation is (entirely of grace, both necessary and sufficient), everything falls into place. This isn't about logic or emotion—it's about submitting to Scripture's definitions. The regenerating work of the Holy Spirit transforms our will, freeing us from sin's bondage and enabling us to believe. Grace doesn't just make salvation possible; it makes it actual. This God-centered worldview changes everything, moving us from seeing ourselves as the sun around which everything revolves to recognizing that we orbit around God's glory, where we were always meant to be.

Pastor Jerry Wragg offers a challenging truth from 1 Corinthians 4: even our own self-examination means nothing compared to God's evaluation of our lives. This isn't about abandoning self-reflection, but rather ensuring we're measuring ourselves against the right standard—Scripture, not our own reasoning or cultural norms. The Corinthian church fell into division and compromise because they evaluated life through human wisdom rather than God's Word. Their problem wasn't just theological; it manifested in every area: tolerating immorality, bringing lawsuits against each other, confusion about marriage and family, and misusing spiritual gifts for personal prominence. We face the same temptations today. When we leave evaluations to our own minds apart from Scripture's clear teaching, we become more deceivable, more biased in our own favor, and more vulnerable to Satan's subtle deceptions. The discussion brings this home practically: a father who works 12-hour days might think his sacrifice at work exempts him from sacrificial leadership at home, but God doesn't pit biblical responsibilities against each other. He calls us to faithfulness in all areas—work, marriage, parenting, church involvement, and evangelism. True biblical reasoning means we can't cherry-pick which commands to follow based on our comfort or exhaustion. Instead, we rely on God's Spirit to energize us for every responsibility He's given us, measuring our faithfulness not by our own feelings but by His Word.

This conversation invites us into a profound exploration of genuine repentance through the lens of Psalm 51, David's heartfelt confession after his adultery with Bathsheba and murder of Uriah. We're challenged to examine whether our own repentance mirrors David's broken humility or merely consists of shallow apologies designed to escape consequences. The discussion presents repentance as a staircase descending from pride to humility, where each step requires us to acknowledge our need for mercy, use indicting language about our sin, recognize the impact on others, and genuinely request forgiveness. This isn't about quickly saying 'I'm sorry' to return to normalcy—it's about dwelling in brokenness before God. The principle that 'your repentance should be as notorious as your sin was' reminds us that David made his confession public precisely because his sin was public. For those of us raising children or discipling others, we're encouraged to model this kind of transparent repentance regularly, making it echo through our homes and relationships. When repentance becomes a practiced muscle rather than a rare event, we position ourselves near the bottom step of humility, making it easier to descend that final distance when needed. Psalm 51 serves simultaneously as our gauge, compass, and treatment plan—measuring our heart's condition, directing us back to God, and healing the disease of sin that infects us all.

In a world obsessed with self-promotion and instant gratification, we're invited to examine a radically different model of purpose and contentment through John the Baptist. This week, our conversation with Mike Kotecki challenges our young people to confront the cultural pressures that keep them in perpetual adolescence—whether it's the endless scroll of social media creating impossible expectations, the temptation to delay responsibility, or the pursuit of likes and followers over eternal significance. John the Baptist stands as a powerful counterexample: a man so unconcerned with his own image that he wore rough clothing, ate unusual food, and was considered strange by polite society. Yet his singular purpose—to point people to Christ—gave him a clarity and contentment that transcends anything our culture offers. Are we living as nameless, faceless voices pointing to Christ, or are we building our own kingdoms on the shifting sands of cultural approval?