As controversial as the final trilogy of the mainline Star Wars movies were (The Force Awakens, The Last Jedi, The Rise of Skywalker), one moment speaks to me above the otherwise predictable storylines. In this particular scene of The Last Jedi, a despondent Luke Skywalker begins to burn an ancient tree containing the remaining literature of the Jedi Way. As he sees the flames build, he has a change of heart when he considers the weight of the value, history, and—perhaps—power to be lost forever. Luke rushes in to save the books but is repelled. His woes deepen until his old Master, Yoda, appears as a Force Ghost and accelerates the destruction of the tree and books by conjuring an additional lightning strike. Yoda knows something that Luke is struggling with: the Force does not depend on the relics of the past.

This scene is analogous to our God; He is not dependent on the existence of His word, but the word exists to serve Him and His purpose. The same could be said for every church building, every ministry, every evangelist, minister, pastor, or missionary. If everything in this world is destroyed by moths or rust (Matthew 6:19), then an omnipotent God exists above everything that bears His name.

We can be understandably disappointed when a church closes, a pastor leaves the profession, or a missionary dies. We can wonder how God would allow His glory to be marked by the perceived failure. However, as Master Yoda knows of the Force, the power of God is not sourced, contained, or altered by the presence—or disappearance—of any of these temporary artifacts or people.

I’m reminded of this while reading Psalm 74. The writer is lamenting the Babylonians’ destruction of Jerusalem, specifically the Temple. Verse 7 mourns, “They burned your sanctuary to the ground; they defiled the dwelling place of your Name.” (NIV) The writer cannot understand how God would allow such a travesty to His glory. Verse 9 declares the uncertainty, “We are given no miraculous signs; no prophets are left, and none of us knows how long this will be.” From Man’s perspective, the enemies of God have won the day, and the writer implores God to remember His people and reaffirm His name.

But, who are “God’s people”? In Man’s limited understanding, they thought God’s people were descendants of Abraham or converted Gentiles. Yet, God could raise the sons of Abraham from stone (Matthew 3). Even in the Bible, we see people despair over losing what they limit God to be while in ignorance of His unfathomable strength and power.

God, though, does not care for dwelling places; He cares only for the hearts of His children. When the Israelites set up false idols at the base of Mount Sinai, God was ready and willing to set Himself up a new people, inviting Moses to plead and intervene on their behalf. When David wanted to move Israel’s central worship from the Tabernacle to a permanent temple, God never wanted a temple for Himself. (1 Chronicles 17) God is omnipresent (Psalm 139) and is not bound by any building, person, or movement in His name, which can become forms of idols if cherished too much. Instead, God calls us to a heart change. He calls us to live in His word and His will for our entire lives, not only on Sundays or in specific buildings. If He is only our master for 2 hours a week, then He is not our master at all.

Yet, our culture attempts to box God into locations and organizations. Shallow faiths come with their Sunday-best clothes to campus after a Saturday of wearing lustful swimsuits on the beach. Western traditions attend church on Sunday with an eye on the clock to beat the lunchtime buffet rush. We put forth our best impressions on Sunday mornings and resort to our worst or most brash every other day. Indeed, we live spiritually segregated lives, which are often encouraged by our overemphasis on the temporal.

Like Yoda, God will let our idols burn, rust, and fall apart if that helps us turn from them and repent of our selfishness—He may even burn them down Himself. Though His name is holy, He will not protect its earthly reputation at the cost of our eternal salvation because Man’s perception of Him does not impute His holiness; God is the source of all holiness. As God works good in all things (Romans 8:28), He can certainly work in the perceived desecration of His own name if it draws the prodigal child home.

Christians should support and encourage all those who bless the name of the Lord but should do so with an open hand. If we hold our organizations, buildings, or brands too tightly, we let them supplant God’s rightful priority in our hearts. 

So, do failed ministers and ministries infringe on God’s will? No. The Son of God did not despise the cross (Hebrews 12:2). God did not mourn the destruction of His (multiple) temples. God is willing to sacrifice His name, His body, and His Son for our salvation. He does not reside in any particular building, mission, or human. Instead, He inhabits the praises of all His people (Psalm 22:3), wherever they may be. Let us not rally around the brand of our church. Let us not depend on the notoriety of our leaders. Let us, instead, praise the Lord with our whole heart; in that, He will truly be satisfied and glorified.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com

There is a common fallacy that the larger Christian faith is exposed as illegitimate through the failings of its leaders. Whenever a famous pastor, influential apologist, or chart-topping contemporary artist is revealed to be sinful, prideful, or deceitful, some critics are inspired to jump on the hypocrisy of these spiritual leaders. Suppose these people, who often espouse Christian moral attributes, are secretly living in secular sin. In that case, they claim, the Christian faith must be a false religion meant only to extract money and exert authority.

Sanctification and righteousness are undoubtedly crucial to any Christian, and especially for the Christian in a public or leadership position. Paul demands that church elders be above reproach or offer no cause to question their character (1 Timothy 3:2, Titus 1:7). James warns spiritual teachers because they are held to a higher standard due to their impact. (James 3:1)  Indeed, righteousness is essential in validating our testimonies of Jesus as our true Lord and Savior.

Yet, God is not limited by our sinfulness or righteousness. He intends to work His plan, no matter our choices. God seems to revel in His ability to use stuttering killers (Moses), cowardly military leaders who tolerate paganism (Gideon), the imprisoned (Joseph), the adulterous plotter (David), those who may deny Him in weakness (Peter), and arrogant accomplices to murder (Paul) to accomplish His perfect will despite their imperfections. Imperfection is God’s only option beyond the perfect obedience of His Son, Jesus, from whom God asked the most.

So, we should not be surprised when another Christian leader falls. Disappointment is natural, but it does not—cannot—implicate the validity of the faith. To assign the failings of a fallen Christian leader to the faith is akin to blaming the US Constitution for a president’s poor job. In the latter case, the Constitution provides the framework by which we should judge or potentially remove a president. Similarly, our faith and the Word of the Bible provide the framework with which we correct, punish, and—yes—support the disgraced Christian. Neither source is responsible for the errant representative; in fact, the necessity for the source itself is validation because of the tendencies of our representatives to fail, whether politically or spiritually.

We see God work with terrible standards throughout the Bible, and ample evidence exists in the Book of Judges. One of the most famous, Samson, is known for his superhuman strength. It’s written that he tore a lion apart with his bare hands. He lifts and moves a massive city gate. This is Superman-type stuff.

Samson was a miracle baby given to a barren woman (Judges 13). As a part of this miracle birth, Samson’s father and mother vow to raise Samson as a Nazarite, a notably pious Jewish sect known for abstaining from wine and not cutting their hair. These lifelong offerings were intended to deepen the spiritual humility of the vowed Nazarite. Unfortunately, Samson is not a great example of adhering to this birthright prerequisite.

Samson’s first story involves his demand to marry a Philistine woman. While intercultural marriage is supported in our current Western culture, it was highly controversial then. More notably, it was against God’s law, for He hoped to avoid the negative consequences of spiritual intermingling. (Deuteronomy 7:3) Our first interaction with Samson is his demand to break God’s law.

This first story also includes the account of the lion. The lion attacks Samson, and Samson defends himself by killing the lion. A honeycomb later grows in the carcass, and Samson eats some of its honey. For Samson to eat food from the decaying carcass heavily violated kosher laws. (Leviticus 11) This is another instance of his unrighteousness.

The ensuing marriage celebration lasts for seven days. While the Bible does not record it, Samson’s track record indicates that he most likely drank wine at his wedding. This would have violated one of the Nazarite vows. Some may disagree with this interpretive liberality; however, we see future episodes of Samson’s uncontrolled rage and poor decisions with women while having no regard for his spiritual responsibilities. Such an accusation is not too difficult to imagine for a seven-day party.

Despite Samson’s many errors, God still uses Samson to accomplish His will. Samson resists the Philistinian occupiers. Samson is regularly endowed with the Lord’s Spirit to gain strength. Samson has a poor track record of obedience, yet the Lord remains faithful.

Only when Samson foolishly reveals the source of his strength to a later woman, Delilah, does he fall on hard times. Judges 16 tells us, “Having put him to sleep on her lap, she called a man to shave off the seven braids of his hair, and so began to subdue him. And his strength left him.” (Judges 16:19, NIV) Why was Samson’s hair the key to his strength and success? Because it was the last remnant of Samson’s vow still intact. Now that it is gone, Samson is left without.

The consequences are tragic; without his strength, Samson’s eyes are gouged out, and he is imprisoned. “But the hair on his head began to grow again after it had been shaved.” (Judges 16:22, NIV) Samson gets his revenge as he is paraded blindly in front of his enemies and asks the Lord to bless him one last time as he destroys the building they are all gathered in. This time, Samson recognizes where his power comes from and, in humility, achieves his God-ordained purpose.

Samson was God’s chosen champion for his time, but moral failings still marked him. We should not aspire to imitate Samson’s arc, but we can take solace that God remained with him throughout, especially by providing Samson another chance to fulfill his original purpose.

Christian leaders will fail, just like secular ones do. In fact, Christian leaders are larger spiritual targets and undoubtedly face even more temptation—it is how our enemy works. Our expectations should be high for such leaders because of their impact on the church, but we should be willing to extend a large portion of grace to them when they fail because God brings good things through failure. He brings good things through each of us.

The most blessed vow today is not to be a Nazarite but is, instead, our profession of faith in God’s Son, Jesus of Nazareth. So long as we can hold fast to that indestructible truth, our vow will stand, and our God will not leave us. Instead of condemning the faith for the failings of our Christian leaders, perhaps we should instead exalt the source of our faith, Jesus, for being all that we cannot be—that is, worthy of the position.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com

The separation of church and state within the framework of the newly minted American Constitution was a game-changing political revelation in the 1780s. Prior to that, national religious identities would change at the whim of a newly crowned monarch.  Conflicting religious sects have warred against each other across the millennia in the name of some goverment. These conflicts have killed millions of people across time as religion was mixed with state affairs.

Jesus did not advocate for zealous violence, yet Christians have been equally as guilty in this abuse of religious identity. The Spanish conducted a bloody Inquisition. Catholic English monarchs slaughtered Protestant citizens (see: Bloody Mary). Let’s not forget the inter-faith violence that has become routine, such as in biblical warfare or the multiple Crusades. Without a doubt, the name of Jesus has been abused in Man’s pursuit of power, land, and wealth.

With this in mind, the separation of church and state must be a good thing, right? The answer is not so simple for the Christian. There is a corporate value in refusing to adopt a national religious identity; however, there are dangers for the individual who lives his political life under worldly constructs and his private life under God’s.

A popular biblical verse used to exemplify the separation of beliefs from politics is from Mark 12 when Jesus is being confronted about paying Roman taxes. He responds with, “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.” (Mark 12:17, NIV) Indeed, Jesus suggests that our heavenly responsibilities do not absolve us of our Earthly ones. However, using this verse to suggest that faith has no place in one’s political alignment is particularly short-sighted.

For example, it was God’s desire that Israel be politically led by Him and His commandments alone. Known as a theocracy, God and His Law were to be the only guiding principles of the Israeli society, and local leaders with the title of “Judge” were meant to interpret the Law and settle disputes. An entire book of the Bible is committed to the lineage of these Judges.

We can confidently say that any other political structure was against God’s wishes for His people. In Deuteronomy, God warns His people of their impending heart change and offers instructions to appoint kings whom God chooses, “When you enter the land which the Lord your God is giving you, and you take possession of it and live in it, and you say, ‘I will appoint a king over me like all the nations who are around me,’“ (Deuteronomy 17:14, NASB) Unfortunately, Israel ends up like any other country, exchanging kings through murder, plot, and deceit. It does not go well.

However, we see God’s heart here—His desire is for His people to live by His Word above anything else. Can a Western society adopt that rigidly? No. Yet, as individual voters, we must still make that choice for God’s will. Imagine what our culture would be if every individual lived simply by Christian moral guidance. We would be in a different world.

What happens when we ignore our individual dispositions for the sake of the democratic majority? What happens when the world clamors to go in an anti-Christian direction? Should Christians simply shrug off the difference between church and state to remain “peacefully complicit”? Peaceful–yes. Complicit–no.

Another example that may help us with these questions comes from one of Christianity’s greatest villains, Pontius Pilate. Pilate was a historical Roman governor of the Palestine area during Jesus’ ministry. History tells us that Pilate was a brutal leader: he lost his position and was recalled back to Rome after a massacre of Samaritan civilians. You may know Pilate better as the governor who condemns Jesus to His crucifixion at the demand of an angry Jewish crowd. 

The crucifixion is mentioned in each of the four Gospel books. In Luke’s version, chapter 23 recalls Jesus’ presentation before Pilate, Herod, and the crowd. We read Pilate’s declaration of Jesus’ innocence, trying to convince the mob against putting Jesus to death. Before we give credit to Pilate for being such an upstanding advocate, let’s not forget that he ordered the vicious 39 lashes before Jesus’ death and, ultimately, condemned Jesus to die. Pilate had the authority to commute this punishment and refused. 

This is where indifference becomes as dangerous as intentional evil. Indifference allows the innocent to be hurt by the angry mob. Indifference reveals the weakness of our inner character because the indifferent prefers personal peace and conflict avoidance more than the protection of the marginalized and vulnerable. A righteous man can confront the mob peacefully and lovingly; however, a righteous man cannot condemn the innocent to suffer in any peaceable way.

While our culture demands abortion “rights,” who do we stand with? As our culture advocates for separationist, nationalistic policies, do we turn a blind eye to the massacred and suffering abroad? When the culture confuses our children, do we allow the mob to dictate their identity, or do we defend their divinely inspired images? If culture wants to imprison the poor, do we stand idly by while they are handcuffed?

National religious identities lead to tribalism and, often, violence; however, the lack of a personal religious identity leads to indifference, weakness, and cowardice like Pilate. An angry democracy is much like an angry mob, only with more political entitlement. People of God are called to be not of this world. We are called to stand in the gap for all oppressed and hurting, no matter the risk or cost to ourselves. People of God, it’s time to take a peaceful stand, but a stand nonetheless.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com

With our social media culture, the speed at which information spreads has quickened exceptionally. In its short lifetime, social media has contributed to political revolutions, social justice movements, and instantaneous newsfeeds. Putting aside media biases, technology accelerates everything for better or worse—so what works for “good” or true information works equally for “bad” or false info. Because of the click-to-share nature of today’s data, more nefarious sorts, like conspiracy theories, spread like wildfire.

Whether it’s embezzlement, human trafficking, or (even) time travel, many such theories revolve around politics. Something about leadership and Man’s constant quest for power seems to elicit our suspicions of corruption—imagine that. We shouldn’t be surprised because it has been that way since the beginning, and there are certainly examples in the Bible.

In 2 Samuel 3, there is a full-scale war between Saul’s son—with control in the northern parts of Israel—and David, who controls Judah. David enjoys military successes but has an uphill battle usurping the inherited kingdom for Saul’s son Ish-Bosheth, but Ish is feeling the pressure. Like all leaders who can sense their power slipping away, suspicion runs rampant. Ish-Bosheth accuses a senior leader of his, Abner, of having slept with Saul’s concubine—which is an unreserved accusation of treason in these times. Much later, we’ll see David’s son revolt against his father and claim the kingdom for his own by sleeping with David’s concubines—so, Ish-Bosheth is essentially accusing Abner of usurping his claim to the throne. Ish is undoubtedly buying into his fearful whispers. Just like his father was suspicious of David, Ish ostracizes his most faithful leader.

Abner is so offended by the accusation that he switches sides in the conflict. Abner goes around to some of the other tribes to vouch for David’s right to reign. He then presents himself to David, offering his allegiance and service to David’s kingdom. David receives his former enemy with grace and warmth.

However, David’s commander, Joab, returns from a raid to find out Abner has been and gone. Joab is incredulous with David and suggests that Abner was merely playing the spy for Ish. Joab pursues Abner, coaxes him to turn back from where he was going, and then murders Abner.

Now, there’s a backstory—Abner killed Joab’s brother in a previous battle; clearly, there is some bad blood here. Whether Joab truly believed Abner had ulterior motives or he was using it as leverage for his personal revenge is unrecorded. However, Joab leverages the accusation as a means to justify the murder.

There’s a lot to unpack in David’s response—the elders who had previously aligned behind Abner now must decide if David ordered the murder and if he will do the same to them. David has to publicly mourn and testify against his involvement to clear his name and maintain the conjured support, but that’s for another message.

We can learn plenty of lessons from the negative examples of both Ish-Bosheth and Joab. Ish-Bosheth’s paranoia caused him to lose a powerful ally and turn him into a powerful opponent. In Ish’s desire to protect his throne, he lost more of it. If he had trusted in the Lord as much as David had, perhaps things would have been different—Ish would eventually be murdered, as well. 

Similarly, Joab uses conspiracy to unintentionally wind up on the wrong side of David’s ire. David distances himself from his commander, and upon David’s deathbed, he instructs his son, Solomon, to kill Joab for the murder of Abner. Sure, David’s justice is not as immediate, but it is permanent.

Both Ish-Bosheth and Joab sought power. Both accused Abner of untruths that served their purposes or fears. They both lost their lives in their efforts to protect them. They were ruled by fear and conspiracy, ultimately dying due to their false accusations.

So, how should Christians treat conspiracy theories? In the way we should treat all worldly things: by keeping our minds on things above. We must remember that God sets the course of the world, even allowing unjust kings to be crowned (Daniel 2:21). Our fears suggest that something unfair or untoward may be afoot, but—even if they are—should we place more faith in our detective skills or in the heavenly Creator who’s in control of it all?

Our social media culture looks for concealed “truths” everywhere while ignoring the eternal Truth so clearly evident (Romans 1:18). Let go of the fear and live for Christ above all. Remember, those who try to save their life will lose it (Luke 17:33). Ish-Bosheth and Joab are Old Testament testimonies speaking to our New Testament promises. Leave the conspiracies for those who are only living for this world; no matter who rules on Earth, let’s remember Jesus reigns above it all.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com

Humans are tribal creatures. From the earliest parts of our history, our ancestors have lived in tribes, villages, and cities to better protect and provide for themselves. We assign ourselves to teams, groups, parties, and denominations to assume and contribute to a larger group identity. It is clearly not good for man to be alone. (Genesis 2:18)

Our desire to fit in can be so strong that we ignore our moral impulses and begin to think and act in ways we otherwise would not. This comes from peer pressure, and those we grow up with see our failings and missteps. If we’ve made quite a few mistakes, it can be difficult to shake their impressions of us. Each one of our words, steps, and choices influences how others see us.

What happens when we want to change who we are? Or more, what happens with our Creator God changes us to be more like Himself? A new believer who does not come from a Christian background has the most difficult time adjusting to life after conversion. Not only will this new Christian face the spiritual battles that often befall each of us, but they must also contend against all the other images and versions of their past that others maintain about them.

I suppose there is one comfort for those of us who must confront others’ impressions of us: Jesus endured the same. Matthew 13 includes a small story of Jesus returning to Nazareth, only to be met with doubt and offense. Verse 54 picks up, “Coming to his hometown, he began teaching the people in their synagogue and they were amazed. ‘Where did this man get this wisdom and these miraculous powers?’ they asked.” (Matthew 13:54, NIV) They go on to question their understanding. “Isn’t this the carpenter’s son? Isn’t his mother’s name Mary?…And they took offense at him.” (55, 57) Jesus retorts—to them—“Only in his hometown and in his own house is a prophet without honor.” (57)

Even Jesus was judged because of His familiarity with others. Jesus lived a sinless life—there was no dirty laundry for Him to overcome in their minds. They knew Jesus as a typical boy, from a typical carpenter, in a small village in ancient Israel. What’s profound about their doubt is their recognition of Jesus’ wisdom and miraculous powers, yet they cannot accept that Jesus is anything other than their expectations of Him.

Perhaps you’re in a spot where you want to make life changes, or you have found a deeper degree of faith, but the expectations of others are holding you back. Take heart—it’s nothing personal. Instead, we must recognize the limitations of humanity’s collective groupthink. God calls us to great things, even when the world ignorantly or intentionally attempts to hold us back. We can let the world have its way in our lives or let God have His; rarely can we appease both simultaneously.

So, how do we respond if our new life in Christ pushes in a direction that others begin to question, criticize, or resist? First, we must prepare ourselves for the trials ahead. How seriously do we take our faith? If we take Christ’s sacrifice seriously, then let’s do this faith thing right! Resolving ourselves to run the race well (1 Corinthians 9:24), we must gird ourselves with faith and righteousness (Ephesians 6). We must be prepared to live out our faith in front of our friends. If they cannot see how serious our faith is, either we are not actively showing it, or they are unwilling to accept it. In the latter case, perhaps we should close that chapter and form a more supportive community that embraces our faith identity.

But before we jump to writing our friends or family out of our lives, we must earnestly live out our faith in front of them. Living our faith may be as simple as living faithfully. In Philippians 1, Paul is under house arrest for an upcoming trial, yet, he writes to his Philippian church plant, “Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ.” (Philippians 1:12-13, NIV) Paul’s lifestyle has convinced even his guards of his innocence while serving as a platform for the Gospel to spread. His example becomes an encouragement for others. Let us remember that our example can speak louder than our words in front of our family and friends—those who know our worst history.

It is human nature to categorize other people into groups—this is particularly rampant in our hyperpolitical, postmodern era. Our worst tendencies look for the slightest sign of inauthenticity or impropriety—as if we have none ourselves—to then judge or “cancel” someone else. As we categorize others, they are equally categorizing us. Those who have known us longer have ample evidence for the labels they assign us, even if we now disavow much of what we previously did. When we share our faith with those who were witnesses to our pre-Christian behavior, we face a steeper challenge in negating who we were in exchange for who we are now.

We must approach our family and old friends differently than strangers. For strangers, I am a strong advocate for typical evangelistic methods. However, for family and friends, we must first convince them that we are different—not why we are different, but show them how we are different.

How do we make our differences obvious? Hopefully, the Holy Spirit’s work in us becomes evident. To spell it out, we must exhibit the Fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22). We must prioritize love, joy, peace, and patience over our previously expected behaviors. We must choose kindness, goodness, and gentleness in interactions where we would otherwise resort to our worst traits. We must exercise self-control and faithfulness in the face of temptation.

Our lives become living proof of our change more than our words. Our testimony of Jesus will only be received warmly after those who knew our worst can see us at our best. It’s up to us to live up to that standard. The world is watching what we do next, and our families and friends have front-row seats.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com

Preparing kids for bedtime is often challenging. The younger the child, the more regularly they must be reminded to wear their pajamas or brush their teeth. This is often met with scorn, excuse, or feigned ignorance; any parent knows what I’m talking about.

From a holistic, third-party view of this comically repeatable night-time experience, is my authority reduced by their continual resistance? No, I’m still their parent and still hold the rights to their obedience. If we zoom in and step into my young son’s mind when he throws a tantrum in response to my instructions, how does he view my dominion over his life and choices at that moment? He chooses his desires and questions my intention for his evening instead of honoring me as his father. In his mind, his decisions are better than mine, despite his ignorance of the next morning’s consequences.

I am not suggesting parents rule their children with an iron fist; instead, I am drawing an analogy to our everyday choices that stand against God’s standards and, thus, His will for our lives. With God as our Creator, our Father, we must make everyday choices to respond to His instructions. For us, this amounts to a standard of holiness.

We desire to live by the world’s indulgences. God instructs us against that. Which do we choose?

Paul warns the Ephesians in chapter 3, “So I tell you this, and insist on it in the Lord, that you must no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their thinking. They are darkened in their understanding and separated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them due to the hardening of their hearts.” (Ephesians 3:17-18, NIV) In 1 Timothy 4, Paul similarly warns against false teachers, “whose consciences have been seared as with a hot iron.” (1 Timothy 4:2, NIV) Similarly, our consciences can be seared against the wisdom and preference of God through false things we convince ourselves of while we live in darkened ignorance and separation.

Our attempts to justify it can even leverage the expanding allowances between the Old Testament and New. When God the Father allows for food to be eaten that was previously deemed unclean, it is natural for us to extrapolate that in illogical ways to justify our own preferences. While we instinctively want to apply this same sense of broader allowances to other areas of our lives, there are several instances where Jesus actually commands us to more strict versions of Old Testament law. 

During His Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-6), Jesus commands stricter rules against lust, anger, and hatred than the Old Testament specifically forbids. He condemns the then-commonly used form of divorce and restricts the grounds that it becomes acceptable. In Matthew 5, Jesus remarks, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.” (Matthew 5: 17-18, NIV) We must use care in discerning God’s will.

Jesus may be our eternal “get out of jail free” card, but He does not abolish the Law that rightfully convicts us and condemns us to that jail. Even after evening struggles with my son, I am still in command of my house despite the grace he will receive from me as he matures through his obstinance. Though he may pout through bedtime, he cannot change the rules—only I, as the father, can.

It is similar to a holy standard of living: Jesus’ grace covers our sins, but that does not mean lawlessness can ensue. Like all things of our faith, it is a matter of the heart. Are we obediently following God’s commands or throwing our tantrums in resistance?

If we refuse to act on those Holy Spirit convictions, we push Him out of control and place ourselves back in control. If we opt for our desire above God’s simple instructions, we confine His reign to smaller subsets of our lives. Therefore, God only inherits dominion as we allow Him—making ourselves the true lord of our lives. Living with one foot in and one foot out of holiness is an issue of pride.

We are not saved by our works and cannot earn our way into heaven; we are saved by faith alone. However, honest faith exalts Jesus above ourselves. Only allowing Jesus to command parts of our lives impedes our faith. We lean on our understanding (read: desire) instead of His. There is grace for the impulsive crimes of passion, but our persistent failings are premeditated offenses. Yes, Jesus can walk alongside us through those struggles, but are we really turning them over to Him in faith if they plague us for weeks, months…. years?

If we claim Jesus as our Lord but conspire against His Law or attempt to restrict His dominion—either in our own lives or the lives of others—then we are treasonous. Holiness is submission to His will and not our own. Holiness is humility in action. Holiness is not natural, instinctive, or easy—it is countercultural and anti-indulgent. Holiness is a small measure of confession and a large struggle to keep our minds on heavenly things—not worldly things.

Why do I demand my children follow a set bedtime routine? Because it will be better for their rest, growth, mental development, and mood. Do they understand it in the same way? No, they will only realize—and appreciate—it when they are more mature; for now, it makes no sense to them. Similarly, we may question, wonder, and resist why God’s commands and expectations exist. We need not appreciate or understand why they are there; we need only to show our humility and faith in God’s goodness, wisdom, and promises by following them. Like a full night’s rest, it’s good for us.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com

The Internet has created entirely new industries. Social media marketing, data science, and SaaS (software-as-a-service) companies all directly owe their entire existence to the creation of the Internet. This also extends beyond professions—the democratization of written, photographic, or video content has altered traditional industries like media and television. Everyone can now have a viral moment, but many will not.

As many of us chase fame and meaning in a digital environment, exploding the growth of platforms like YouTube and TikTok, most participants will amount to meager, insignificant views. Not everyone is chasing fame, undoubtedly, but many are. Many of those will fail. Therefore, our culture assumes that those who are famous have somehow done something correctly to deserve it. Whether it be the all-star athletes, the funniest comedians, or the best musical performers, fame is regularly linked to success and fulfillment. Yet, many of these representatives are flawed; we uncover it in later memoirs or current scandals. Others are more obvious, rising to fame by selling themselves and their inherent value for a mere moment of attention.

Despite being another failed desire from the world, there is something self-aggrandizing about chasing fame on that scale. Such pursuits stand in stark contrast to a faith-filled life. There’s nothing wrong with gaining fame or notoriety by or through our faithful activities, but—like all things—it’s a matter of the heart. One could argue that the characters of the Bible are some of the most famous in history. Indeed, the heroes of Moses, Abraham, and David have been well-known for millennia. Maintaining popularity over thousands of years is incredible, especially in our week-to-week pace of virality.

Not all bible characters arise to that level. Reading through the book of Judges, there is a litany of characters, and many are well-known. Samson, Gideon, and Deborah are fan faves, yet, still others are not. I was particularly struck while reading Judges 10. The chapter opens with two lives, spanning 45 years of leadership over the course of only 5 verses.

Tola was a man from the tribe of Issachar. “'He led Israel twenty-three years; then he died, and was buried in Shamir.” (Judges 10:2, NIV) Tola was followed by Jair from Gilead. He led for twenty-two years and was particularly wealthy with 30 sons on 30 donkeys. Then he died. After Jair, the Israelites fall to the cultural religions of the Baals and Ashoreths to repeat their experience of anguish and then restoration through a particularly flawed character in Jephthah.

Tola and Jair make it as historical mentions, but there is no story of salvation or praise. All we can surmise is that either the enemies of the Israelites were so decimated after the previous Judges that it took a generation to build up their forces or—and this is more likely—that these men faithfully served the Lord while leading Israel. If we accept the latter explanation, what does that tell us about the more frequent characters of the Bible?

God protects the intentionally righteous. We see this in other areas of the Bible. One regular reference is in Psalm 1, where the righteous man does not adapt to the wicked culture but meditates on the word of the Lord. This man prospers in all that he does. Similarly, with Abraham—we only read of the most dramatic forms of his faithfulness. Little is mentioned about his many years in his own desert. The entire story of his son, Isaac, can be read in a couple of minutes. We know little of Peter, James, John, and the other disciples beyond the 3 years of Jesus’ ministry; once the church is established, attention turns from the persons and to the message through epistles, letters, and sermons.

The same can be said for Tola and Jair in Judges 10. All that’s left to show for their faithfulness are five verses spanning almost five decades. Does it seem backward for the Bible to expound so much on worldly drama instead of reveling in those who live faithfully and successfully?

No, it is not backward. The Bible is not about how successful mankind can be. The Bible is not necessarily about how holy God’s judgment will be. Instead, the Bible’s central theme is God’s overwhelming grace toward His fallen creation: Man. This is best exemplified through the pinnacle sacrifice of Christ, but the theme is there from Genesis to Revelation. As men and women struggle with worldly dispositions, God’s patience, consequences, and ultimate grace are commonly in view. The historical narratives often skipped on Sunday mornings reveal the depravity of those who benefitted from the faithfulness of their ancestors and squandered it on the world. The Bible regularly shows how God steps in to save his repentant people or allows them to bear the brunt of their poor worldly choices.

The lives of faithfulness are marked by peace. This peace is not newsworthy, and it is not salacious. Man’s flair for the obscene does not appreciate it until after life ends, and the crowd is perplexed as to how someone could live so long with such simplicity and contentment. The countercultural example becomes attention-worthy only after having successfully completed the race faithfully.

However, peace is what we so often crave. Security in position and provision is an internal peace we want. Securing a relationship provides peace in appreciation. Social justice movements and international organizations seek peace from war and violence. Peace is our objective, but we regularly reproof God as the source of peace and misassign it to ourselves. No wonder we are left unsatisfied.

A faithful life still encounters sickness and death. A faithful life is still attacked by drama and uncertainty. Trials are inescapable on this side of heaven. However, a faithful life is marked by the unexplainable peace of God (Philippians 4:7). It may not be glitzy or glamorous. Still, just like Tola and Jair, the legacy of a faithful life outlasts life itself and sets itself apart from a world constantly distracted by self-indulgent false fame and unrest.

Don’t we all want a piece of true, enduring peace? A faith-filled life is the only way to get it.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com

Have you ever lied to continue covering up a previous lie? Most of us have. When children try this, it quickly becomes apparent—it’s simply too difficult to manage the runaway implications of deceit. Our natural proclivities are to protect ourselves from consequences rather than live in the truth.

As terrible as our sins can be, our worst natures also reveal to us the overwhelming grace of God. It does not matter how many sins upon sins we’ve committed in our past—when we declare Jesus our Lord, we are immediately made righteous. No further defense or justification is necessary. Unfortunately, we cannot say the same for our earthly consequences.

Take King David as an example. David is a heroic figure in Judeo-Christian history; however, he was a man plagued by sin like the rest of us. David exhibits a few major moral failings—most famously, his adultery with a woman named Bathsheba, which is recorded in 2 Samuel 11. The story goes: David is home while his army is away at war. He sees a beautiful woman bathing and has his servants bring her to him while her soldier husband is away. David tries to cover up his impregnation of Bathsheba by inviting the husband, Uriah, back home and coaxing Uriah to sleep with Bathsheba. Uriah doesn’t take the bait, so David hatches a plan for him to die in battle. The whole story is deeply maleficent.

David’s general, Joab, plays an instrumental role in the cover-up by sending Uriah and a group of men to a heavily defended area to ensure he is killed. In verse 17, “and some of the servants of David among the people fell. Uriah the Hittite also died.” It was a poor military strategy initiated purely because of the king’s sinful desires.

All of this history is important to understand best what happens next. In the next chapter, the prophet Nathan receives word from God that David will suffer extreme consequences for this gruesome scheme. As David professes his guilt of sin, Nathan stunningly replies, “The LORD also has put away your sin; you shall not die.” (2 Samuel 12, 13, ESV) 

To be clear, the son conceived by the adultery passes away, and David’s lineage is condemned to murder and infighting; there are earthly consequences for his earthly follies. However, David’s sins are immediately forgiven on an eternal scale. How can that be? 

Before attesting to God’s grace, let’s be honest with each other—our sins all have rippling effects. The financial cheats irretrievably lose many lifetimes' worth of savings and hard work. The harsh words from our rage echo throughout the lifetime of our children. Even hacking someone’s Facebook account leaves the victims anxious and angry. No sin is momentary; they all carry consequences. Yes, David’s plan is particularly vicious, but are we in any place to condemn him? Holiness is such an exacting standard that “'For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it.” (James 2:10, NIV) We have all broken at least one of God’s commands, so we all are as guilty as if we broke every one of them. This all-or-nothing consequence of sin is heavy, but it is the only possible holy response. 

To prove this holy binary, let’s consider the alternative. What if God were like us, where different sins begat various heavenly penalties with differing severity? What would be appropriate for David’s worst decisions? What would be appropriate for ours? My suggestion is that any gradient of responses to sin makes some more tolerable than others. A soft response to a “minor” sin would introduce a point where there is little difference between a perfect creation and a “slightly sinful” one. This hypothetical existence of a Holy sliding scale actually degrades the value of being Holy in the first place. By tolerating any sin in the slightest, it ultimately undermines and unravels the entire concept of perfection.

By understanding this value of holiness, we can now see that all sin is worthy of the death penalty. Each and every sin, no matter the “size” or “severity” of it, irrevocably stains all of creation. This ultimate judgment does not reduce the severity of the “worst sins”, but increases that of all sin. With this measuring stick in mind, let us think of how Jesus bore all penalties for our unrighteousness. Even upon the cross, Jesus asks God to forgive the ones who nailed Him upon it. Can we even imagine such love?

How could God offer David instantaneous grace? Not only was Uriah intentionally killed by David’s plot, but so were the innocent “servants of David” who died alongside him during the staged death trap. How can God so quickly forgive David for something so cruel? Because Jesus paid the debt for all people, for all time. Even though Jesus’ crucifixion occurs later in the world’s chronological history, His atonement was, is, and will always be available for all of time. Jesus’ historical event supersedes that very history and covers all saints in all eons of time with all-enduring forgiveness. David is an equal recipient of that grace. So are you and me.

This particular sin of David stole Uriah’s life, as well as the innocent bystanders who died with him. Our sins also carry a heavier weight than we will ever know. Thankfully, Jesus pays the eternal debt, with all of sin’s compounding interest, so that we may be reconciled with a God that merely wants to enjoy eternity with us. Oh, what a friend we have in Jesus.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com

The world revolves around words. Words create families through vows of marriage and can cause death through declarations of war. In court, words can free or convict defendants. Written and spoken words preserve history. If you consider computer code a language, its impact expands further by manifesting imagination into real-world actions. Words are ubiquitous, innumerable, and consequential.

Words certainly impact our relationships. The more important the relationship, the more weight our words carry. As Christians, our relationship with Jesus is the most consequential; therefore, the words that impact our faith have the greatest impact on us. We confess Jesus as our Lord and Savior (Romans 10:9). Others are saved when the Gospel is preached and heard (Romans 10:14). We were created (Genesis 1:26) by words and saved (John 1) by the Word—the Logos—the truth.

Now that we have established how important words are to our eternal salvation, what kind of words are you listening to? Which are you reading? As we think of Jesus—a Jewish carpenter who lived 2,000 years ago—can you imagine how many messengers have claimed His name with their words? How do we know which are true and which can lead us astray?

This is why the Bible is so critical: its words are eternally true. The Bible is the plumline by which all other Christian messages can and should be weighed.

The Bible’s words are so important that James, the half-brother of Jesus, cautioned followers how they were to teach them. James 3 warns that many people should not become teachers, “for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness.” (James 3:1, ESV) Why are teachers judged more strictly? The teacher is like a rider on a horse, whose bit guides the whole body (James 3:3). Indeed, by a teacher’s words, many will make choices that either strengthen their faith or weaken it. If our words have consequences on our own lives, then those of a teacher have an exponential impact through the lives of the students. Thus, the broader our impact, the heavier the burden and the larger the judgment.

Some teachers do not have honest intentions (2 Timothy 4). All teachers stumble in sin (James 3:2). Without something more eternal than a teacher’s words, our faith is precariously endangered by the whims of ourselves or others.  The Bible, then, is the source of truth that any Christian must revisit to ensure their relationship with Christ is sound, authentic, and personal.

Christians who claim faith but do not regularly read the Bible are living someone else’s faith. That’s not to say faith is pluralistic; instead, shallow Christians rely on others’ relationship with God as a proxy for their own. Would you consult your neighbor to interpret your spouse’s needs? How do we react when someone tells us how to perform our job? If we give up our role in our relationships or positions, they begin to belong to someone else. So it is with our faith; if our belief is only guided by Sunday morning sermons, then we lean on the pastor’s relationship with Jesus more than our own. If they are mistaken, so are we. This is a failing proposition.

Say what you may about the Bible’s accuracy on time, science, or history—there are compelling pieces of data across the board. However, the Bible stands true on faith matters despite all objections. The Bible reveals our purpose. The Bible shows us how unconditional love can be. The Bible offers guidance on humility, even within the world’s worst constructs like prostitution, slavery, and prejudice.

If we don’t read the Bible, we will not recognize the many ways God has and continues to love us. The words of the Bible prove God’s faithfulness and rebuke Satan’s words of doubt. Our study of God’s words reveals our commitment to our relationship with Him. We cannot have a relationship with the Father or Son without reading their words, and we have no other source for their words but the Bible.

Though character limits were a fad in our digital economy, those trends have all but reversed as we culturally appreciate the nuance and depth of our words. The Bible is not a short read because it takes time and breadth to dispel every incorrect rumor and disprove every false prophet thoroughly. Like any relationship to thrive, we must invest in it, at the expense of something else.

When we consider the immense scope of the cosmos, tiny words seem insignificant, yet, their impact on our lives is far greater than the largest star. While we marvel at majesty across lightyears, nothing influences our existence quite like words, whether from family, public personalities, or social media feeds. Of all the words that influence us, we must lean on the Bible’s most of all. 

The Bible is a cornerstone of our relationship with Jesus and, therefore, our salvation. Without the Bible to guide us in our faith, we are simply taking someone else’s word for it.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com

Our modern Western experience affords us an unending supply of luxuries. Through technology and wealth, many of us have more security and free time than our ancestors—at least by historical standards. Suburban salaries have replaced seasonal harvests. Laws protect us from our employer’s worst expectations. The Internet, devices, and democratized information provide endless content. Travel is accessible. 

These truly are indulgent times.

With so many options, how do we choose how best to spend our limited time? Studies reveal our human brain is actually more satisfied with fewer options—the massive amount of choices overwhelms us with a fear of missing out. Anxiety and loneliness are currently rampant despite our ability to pursue whichever vocation, experience, or material we could imagine. How does this make sense?

While extracurriculars are innumerable, a few core principles remain in short supply—purpose, meaning, and value. Could it be that the quiet times in between our continual distractions impress upon us our lack of direction? Could our activities be stealing our time away from our purpose? Atheists argue there is no purpose because there is nothing of a higher order than the universe we can experience. Humanists claim our purpose comes intrinsically from our human existence—I’m unsure how that makes sense when philosophically tested. Buddhists seek enlightenment. Hindus hope to ascend the plane of existence for a new and better reincarnated life.

In contrast to all of the self-seeking, the purpose of the Christian is to glorify God.

Yet, there are similarly unending ways to bring glory to God. Providing charity to the poor, regular prayer, instilling faith in the next generation, and spearheading social justice movements all glorify God if driven from the proper heart. So, suppose our cosmic reason for being can be experienced through an equally abundant number of choices. How can the Christian be any better at identifying her purpose than the secularist?

Christians discover their purpose by listening to Jesus.

Matthew 17 opens with Jesus leading his three closest disciples, Peter, James, and John, up a mountain. Known as the Transfiguration, Jesus’ appearance changes into an awe-inspiring display of white light, and He is joined on the mountain by two patriarchs of the faith: Moses and Elijah. In his excitement about the experience, Peter suggests building three shelters for these icons to have separately. Likely, in Peter’s mind, this was the beginning of the many messianic prophecies, upon which Jesus would reclaim the world, the state of Israel would be free of its oppressors and ascend to the fame and power their people had been praying for over hundreds of years.

To the disciples’ terror, a cloud forms around the mountain and a voice interrupts Peter, saying “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!” (v 5). The cloud and the holy leaders disappear, and Jesus—in his typical human form—assures the disciples that they are safe.

Of all the things an omnipotent creator God might say, at a time like that, why would He end with “Listen to Him?” Doesn’t this supernatural episode grant Jesus some privileged authority on its own? Why does Jesus need to be reaffirmed to His three closest disciples and only them (remember, no one else was there)?

Though Peter’s intentions were admirable, they were not God’s purpose for Him. Peter, seeing a supernatural revelation, willingly began planning how to serve. He reacted to the miracle and hoped to capitalize on it—not for his gain, but surely with the intention to aid the coming kingdom of God, as he best understood it at that time. Peter thought he had found his next way to serve God’s kingdom and immediately set about acting; it was wrong, though.

Unbeknownst to Peter then, God intended to send Peter (and the other disciples) out into the world, not to build stationary shelters. God’s role for Peter was to testify to God’s grace and acceptance more than His power and hierarchy. If Peter had built those shelters and the holy men would have ruled the Earth, as Peter likely expected, then Jesus’ mission would have failed. Instead of building, Peter needed to listen.

Our best intentions can cause us to rush into what we think God wants us to do. I am most guilty of imagining a better future, a new app, or an innovative model for the church and then running at it with full force in my zeal to please God. I have leaned on my own understanding instead of listening to God’s.

As Jesus says earlier in Matthew 7, “'Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’” (Matthew 7:22-23, NIV) (emphasis mine) If we use Jesus’ name to build the kingdom of God how we want it, we are attempting to limit God’s plan, unintentionally or otherwise. Instead, we are called to be servants of the Most High God, doing His bidding—no matter our opinions.

We are commanded to listen to Jesus before acting for Jesus.

That humility is a thread throughout the Christian experience. We are called to pray and fast for our directions. We are called to love those we would naturally deem unlovable. We are called to forego our own definitions of purpose or identity and instead offer ourselves as a living sacrifice. Anything less is asking God to do our bidding—asking Him to listen to us more than we listen to Him.

Prioritize Jesus’ command in your life. Let go of your endless options and, instead, let Jesus decide.

The world keeps creating more choices because none of the current ones satisfy. Instead, come to the well that never runs dry and find your refuge in the true Prince of Peace. He’ll tell you what to do.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit prodigalsonline.substack.com