This is a fun, lighthearted series intended not necessarily to teach, but to spark conversation. Consider this an open invitation to share what you know, like, dislike, or simply find interesting about any of the apostles. This is a judgment-free zone, so feel free to share your thoughts and opinions.

Series Sixth Question

The sixth question of this series is: Was Paul wrong to publicly rebuke Peter?

My Answer: Yes

I believe the apostle Paul was wrong to publicly rebuke the apostle Peter. Notice that my emphasis is on “publicly.” I believe the rebuke itself was justified, but I disagree with the public manner in which it was delivered because:

1. I don’t believe Peter’s offense warranted a public rebuke, at least not as the first step.

2. I think it failed to give proper regard to Peter’s position as a senior apostle and elder.

3. It doesn’t align with the pattern Jesus taught and modeled for handling sin and correction (Matthew 18:15–17).

But before I get into that, a few biographical facts.

A Few Biographical Facts

Both men are well-known apostles, so I won’t spend much time on their biographies.

Peter

Peter was the first person Jesus called to be an apostle, making him, in a sense, first among equals. Along with James and John—the two brothers—he formed Jesus’ inner circle.

He led the church on the Day of Pentecost (Acts 2) and was the primary spokesman in defending the faith before the Sanhedrin, the Jewish council (Acts 4–5).

You can read more about his life in Part 2 of this series, The Outspoken Apostle and His Transformation.

Paul

I believe Paul was arguably the early church’s most fearless apostle and its leading apologist. He began as a persecutor of the church but, after his conversion, became its most prominent defender.

You can read more about his life in Part 4 of this series, The Greatest Apostolic Dispute.

The Incident at Antioch

Interestingly, Luke does not record this rebuke in Acts as he does Paul’s disagreement with Barnabas. Instead, the account comes from Paul himself in Galatians 2, where he says:

“Now when Peter had come to Antioch, I withstood him to his face, because he was to be blamed;”

— v.11

Peter had come to Antioch and was apparently very comfortable eating with Gentiles, I believe in no small measure because of the vision the Lord had shown him and his subsequent visit to Cornelius’ house (Acts 10). He had come to understand that he was not to discriminate against Gentiles and was comfortable eating with them until some believers who appear to have been James’ disciples arrived from Jerusalem. Paul writes:

“for before certain men came from James, he would eat with the Gentiles; but when they came, he withdrew and separated himself, fearing those who were of the circumcision.”

— v.12

The Jewish practice of not eating with Gentiles was an ethnocultural one never commanded by God. It’s why the Samaritan woman questioned why Jesus would ask her for a drink of water (John 4:9).

Based on the details Paul provides, the incident appears to have taken place shortly after the Jerusalem Council (Acts 15), where the apostles and elders settled the question of whether Gentiles should be circumcised, and before Paul and Barnabas parted ways, since Paul says:

“...even Barnabas was carried away with their hypocrisy.”

— v.13

Should Paul Have Publicly Rebuked Peter?

Should Paul have publicly rebuked Peter over this? I believe the answer is no. In fact, I don’t think it should even have been a rebuke. Given Peter’s status in the church. It should have been a private correction.

Some may point to 1 Timothy 5:19–20 as justification for Paul’s actions, but I believe that misses the point.

“Do not receive an accusation against an elder except from two or three witnesses. Those who are sinning rebuke in the presence of all, that the rest also may fear.”

Let me explain.

Peter was indeed an elder and fits the general framework of the passage, but what he did was not, in itself, a sin. There are two things at play here: the action and the motive.

Withdrawing from eating with Gentiles (the action) was not sinful. Doing so because he feared offending James’ disciples (the motive) could certainly be considered wrong. Frankly, I’m not even sure I would call it hypocrisy. Peter wasn’t living a lie; he wanted to avoid offending—or perhaps more accurately, appeasing—these believers.

For perspective, Paul himself did something similar on two occasions.

First, in Acts 16:3, he had Timothy, whose father was Greek, circumcised. One of Paul’s biggest theological battles was over circumcision, and some may see this as capitulation. But he did it to avoid criticism from this same group—the circumcision party. Some may point out that Timothy’s mother was Jewish, but that doesn’t change the fact that Paul circumcised him to avoid criticism from that group.

Second, in Acts 21, on the advice of James—and possibly Peter, if he was still in Jerusalem at the time—Paul underwent Jewish purification with four men and paid their expenses to avoid the accusation that he was teaching Jews to forsake the Law of Moses.

“Take them and be purified with them, and pay their expenses so that they may shave their heads, and that all may know that those things of which they were informed concerning you are nothing, but that you yourself also walk orderly and keep the law.”

— Acts 21:24

Paul didn’t sin, just as I don’t believe Peter did. In both cases, however, the motive was essentially the same: to avoid criticism or causing offense to a particular group.

Furthermore, in 1 Corinthians 9:19–23, Paul explained that he adapted himself to different people depending on the situation in order to win them. No one would accuse Paul of hypocrisy for doing that. To be clear, I’m not accusing Paul of hypocrisy either. I’m simply pointing out that there is an important nuance here that should not be overlooked.

How Should Paul Have Handled Peter’s Actions?

Jesus established a model which I believe serves as a general principle for resolving conflicts and correcting others: Matthew 18:15–17. It is a three-step process, and the first step is a private conversation.

“Moreover if your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he hears you, you have gained your brother.”

— v.15

The second step is mediation (v.16). The final step is to bring the matter before the church (v.17).

I believe Paul should have corrected—or, if necessary, rebuked—Peter privately first. I think it should have mattered that Peter was an apostle of the first order, an elder in the Jerusalem church, and senior to Paul in the church’s leadership.

Given that Peter neither argued nor became defensive (Galatians 2:11–14), I’m confident he would have taken the appropriate steps to also publicly correct his actions without the need for a public rebuke or confrontation.

Lessons from the Incident

I believe there are important lessons to be learned from this incident.

One

The Church needs leaders like Paul who are willing to boldly call out sin within their leadership circles, or elsewhere when it is clearly present and established.

Sin must be exposed—especially among leaders—without exception, in order to protect the body of believers.

Recently, I heard a pastor at Lionheart Church criticize Christians who call out megachurch pastors for living frivolous and extravagant lifestyles. I found his defense baffling because many of the criticisms are legitimate, especially considering that he himself is not a megachurch pastor.

There is often a cover-up culture around church leadership that resists accountability, even when wrongdoing is present. We have seen this at times—for example, more recently with Bethel Church, which, according to Mike Winger’s exposé, failed to expose false prophets like Shawn Boltz.

Two

We also need leaders like Peter—those who receive correction and respond appropriately, whether by repentance or stepping back from leadership when necessary.

Peter appears to have accepted the rebuke. He did not argue with Paul, and there is no indication of any resentment. In fact, Peter later speaks of Paul with respect (2 Peter 3:15).

There are many unqualified individuals leading God’s people who remain unaccountable and unwilling to receive correction.

Church leaders must be held accountable and, hopefully, will respond with the kind of humility and maturity that Peter demonstrated.

Your Turn

What do you think? Do you agree that Paul was wrong to confront Peter the way he did? If not, I would like to hear your thoughts in the comments.

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Leave a comment

This is a fun, lighthearted series intended not necessarily to teach, but to spark conversation. Consider this an open invitation to share what you know, like, dislike, or simply find interesting about any of the apostles. This is a judgment-free zone, so feel free to share your thoughts and opinions.

Series Fifth Question

The fifth question of this series is: Who is the apostle who quoted a non-canonical book?

My Answer: Apostle Jude

Apostle Jude was the one who quoted a non-canonical book—the Book of Enoch. In fact, he also referenced another non-canonical work, which I will highlight below.

Some may disagree with my calling him an apostle. That is okay, but it is my considered view. I will lay out my case below. First, however, a few biographical details.

A Few Biographical Facts

Jude was a brother of the apostle James (Jude 1), whom I highlighted in Part 3: The Skeptic Who Became an Apostle. Like James, he was a son of Mary and Joseph, making him Jesus’ half-brother.

Like the apostle James, there is no evidence that Jude believed in Jesus during His earthly ministry. They shared the same unbelief, as reflected in these verses:

“Leave Galilee and go to Judea, so that your disciples there may see the works you do. No one who wants to become a public figure acts in secret. Since you are doing these things, show yourself to the world.”

— John 7:3–4

“For even his own brothers did not believe in him.”

— John 7:5

They viewed Jesus as someone seeking public attention and promoting Himself because they neither recognized His divine identity nor understood His mission.

Scripture is silent on when or how Jude came to faith, but sometime after Jesus’ resurrection he became a believer and went on to author the Epistle of Jude. Next, I will make the case for why I consider Jude to be an apostle.

The Case for Jude’s Apostleship

I consider Jude to be a second-generation apostle, like James, Barnabas, and Paul. Also, I do not believe he was an apostle simply because James was his brother or because he was Jesus’ brother. My case rests on the evidence found in his letter. Allow me to explain why I believe Jude should also be regarded as an apostle.

First, Jude’s letter is classified among the Catholic Epistles, alongside those of Peter and John. “Catholic” here does not refer to the Roman Catholic Church but means universal, since these letters were addressed to the church at large rather than to specific congregations. This distinguishes them from Paul’s letters, which were written to individual churches, such as the Corinthians and Ephesians, or to a group of regional churches, such as the Galatians. Jude opens his letter by writing:

“To those who are called, sanctified by God the Father, and preserved in Jesus Christ:”

— Jude 1

Second, flowing from the universality of his letter, I believe Jude must have been widely recognized by the church as an elder alongside Peter, John, and James. It is difficult for me to imagine someone writing authoritatively to the entire church if his authority as a church leader had not already been broadly acknowledged.

Third, Jude writes with the voice of an authority figure and church elder:

“Beloved, while I was very diligent to write to you concerning our common salvation, I found it necessary to write to you exhorting you to contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all delivered to the saints.”

— Jude 3

For perspective, consider Mark, whom I discussed in Part 4: The Greatest Apostolic Dispute. Mark wrote the Gospel that bears his name, recording historical events. Jude, however, wrote pastoral instruction grounded in established apostolic doctrine.

My point is not that Jude was an apostle merely because he wrote an epistle. Rather, I believe the tone, authority, and theological weight of his letter place it alongside the writings of Peter, John, and Paul. He wrote with what I regard as apostolic authority.

Finally, Paul provides explicit evidence that James was an apostle when he writes:

“After that He was seen by James, then by all the apostles.”

— 1 Corinthians 15:7

By distinguishing James and then mentioning “all the apostles,” Paul appears to be indicating a broader group of apostles beyond the Twelve. Earlier he had already written:

“and that He was seen by Cephas, then by the twelve.”

— 1 Corinthians 15:5

I believe this points to a second generation of apostles, a group that I believe included Jude. Since Jesus appeared to James and many others after His resurrection, it is not implausible that He also appeared to Jude, although Scripture does not explicitly say so.

This is my case for Jude’s apostleship. It is my considered opinion, and you are free to disagree.

Now, let’s explore the non-canonical books that Jude either quoted directly or indirectly referenced.

The Book of Enoch

Jude quotes the Book of Enoch in verses 14-15:

“Now Enoch, the seventh from Adam, prophesied about these men also, saying, ‘Behold, the Lord comes with ten thousands of His saints, to execute judgment on all, to convict all who are ungodly among them of all their ungodly deeds which they have committed in an ungodly way, and of all the harsh things which ungodly sinners have spoken against Him.’”

This is a close paraphrase of 1 Enoch 1:9.

The Book of Enoch was never canonized for several key reasons. Scholars believe it was not written by Enoch himself, dating its composition between the 3rd century BC and the 1st century AD and attributing it to multiple authors. Additionally, what I consider the strongest argument against its canonization is that some of its theological content is incoherent and inconsistent with Scripture. Having read it, I can attest to this.

The Book of Enoch appears in the Ethiopian Bible (which totals 81–82 books) alongside 21 other non-canonical writings. I have seen people on social media promoting the Ethiopian Bible and claiming the standard 66-book canon is “abridged.” This is completely false.

Also, Jude appears to reference a tradition associated with the Assumption of Moses, when he describes the Archangel Michael disputing with Satan over Moses’ body (v. 9).

You might ask: If these books are not canonical, why does Jude reference them? Other literature can contain kernels of truth, and citing it does not amount to full endorsement. Paul likewise quoted pagan poets (Acts 17:28; Titus 1:12) without endorsing everything they wrote.

The Bible itself mentions other books that were not included in the canon, such as the Book of Jasher (Joshua 10:13; 2 Samuel 1:18) and the Book of the Wars of the LORD (Numbers 21:14). Their absence does not mean the Bible is incomplete. The canon stands complete as it is.

Jude’s Legacy

Whether you consider Jude an apostle or not, his contribution to biblical theology is undeniable. His letter is not a systematic doctrinal treatise but mostly instructions and exhortations based on established doctrines.

He urged believers to contend for the faith (v. 3).

He warned about false teachers (v. 4) and described their character and conduct (vv. 8-13).

He grounded his warning against complacency by recounting historical examples of God’s judgment (vv. 5-7). I believe this is a warning that some Once Saved Always Saved (OSAS) advocates forget.

He predicted the rise of scoffers, as has happened in all generations, and noted the apostles’ prior warnings (vv. 17-19).

He called believers to build themselves up in the faith (vv. 20-23).

I believe that one of his greatest contributions to church literature is one of the most quoted benedictions in the New Testament:

To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.

— Jude vv.24-25 NIV

Your Turn

What do you think? Do you consider Jude an apostle or not and why? What do you think is his greatest contribution to the church?

Your answer doesn’t have to be as long as mine—feel free to share in the comments.

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Leave a comment

This is a fun, lighthearted series intended not necessarily to teach, but to spark conversation. Consider this an open invitation to share what you know, like, dislike, or simply find interesting about any of the apostles. This is a judgment-free zone, so feel free to share your thoughts and opinions.

Series Fourth Question

The fourth question of this series is: In the dispute with Barnabas, was Paul wrong to reject Mark?

My Answer: Yes

I believe the apostle Paul was wrong to reject Mark. You don’t have to accept my conclusion, but I want to explain why I believe Paul was wrong.

First, let’s review what Scripture records about the three men involved: Barnabas, Paul, and Mark.

A Few Biographical Facts

Barnabas

Barnabas’ birth name was actually Joses (which I suspect is a variant of Joseph). He was a Levite from Cyprus (Acts 4:36). The name Barnabas, meaning “Son of Encouragement,” was given to him by the apostles. I suspect this was not only because of his selfless act of selling his land and giving the proceeds to the early church (Acts 4:37), but also because they recognized that quality as an inherent part of his character.

After Paul’s conversion, it was Barnabas who introduced him to the apostles and the church in Jerusalem. The believers there had initially rejected Paul, fearing he was still the man who had persecuted them (Acts 9:26–27). Scripture doesn’t tell us how, but Barnabas had evidently become convinced that Paul’s conversion was genuine.

The apostles also held Barnabas in very high regard. When they heard about the growing church in Antioch, it was Barnabas whom they sent to investigate (Acts 11:22–24). He later departed for Tarsus to find Paul and brought him back to Antioch, where the two ministered together as leaders.

Scripture describes Barnabas as:

“...a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith.”

— Acts 11:24

Keep all of this in mind, because I believe what we’ve learned so far about Barnabas becomes pivotal in understanding the dispute that later unfolded between him and Paul.

One interesting nugget you may not have heard before: Barnabas, along with Apollos, has long been one of the two leading candidates proposed as the author of Hebrews. While the book itself is anonymous and Scripture never identifies its author, Barnabas has been a prominent suggestion throughout church history.

Lastly, in case anyone questions whether Barnabas was an apostle—he was. Acts 14:14 explicitly refers to both Barnabas and Paul as apostles.

Paul

Paul is already well known, so I won’t spend much time on his biography.

He was born in Tarsus of Cilicia and raised as a Pharisee. He studied under one of the most respected Jewish teachers of his day—Gamaliel.

A zealous defender of Judaism, Paul fiercely persecuted the church until his dramatic encounter with the risen Jesus on the road to Damascus (Acts 9). From that moment on, he was never the same.

Paul was unquestionably an apostle. He repeatedly identified himself as one in his letters, and Scripture also explicitly recognizes both Paul and Barnabas as apostles (Acts 14:14).

Paul wrote thirteen books of the New Testament.

Mark

Mark’s mother’s name was Mary, and it was to her house that Peter went after an angel released him from Herod’s imprisonment (Acts 12:1–12).

We know him as Mark, but that was actually his last name (Acts 12:12). John was his first name, which is why he came to be known as John Mark.

He was a cousin of Barnabas (Colossians 4:10), and their stories actually parallel one another in their association with the apostles.

Mark was not an apostle, but he was one of the four Gospel writers and the author of the Gospel of Mark.

Background of the Dispute

Barnabas and Paul were leaders in the church at Antioch (Acts 13) when the Holy Spirit sent them to preach to the Gentiles (vv. 2–3). One of the first places they visited was Cyprus, Barnabas’ hometown, and Mark accompanied them as their helper (v. 5).

One of the notable events of this first missionary journey took place at Paphos on the island of Cyprus, where they encountered a Jewish sorcerer and false prophet named Bar-Jesus, also called Elymas (vv. 6–12). Paul famously struck him with blindness because he tried to prevent the proconsul, Sergius Paulus, from coming to faith.

Another nugget: scholars believe that the conversion of Sergius Paulus was why Paul, who until then was known as Saul (his birth name), came to be called Paul, in keeping with a Roman military tradition in which Roman generals adopted the names of important cities they conquered.

From Paphos they sailed to Perga, and it was there that Mark left them and returned to Jerusalem (v. 13). Although Scripture doesn’t tell us why he left, I wonder if he was simply homesick or seasick. The journeys to both Cyprus and Perga were by ship.

The Dispute

Barnabas and Paul completed this first missionary journey at the end of Acts 14 and returned to Antioch, where they had begun, and remained there for a long time — v. 28.

The time between this first missionary journey and the second was when Barnabas and Paul went up to Jerusalem to consult the apostles and elders on the matter of circumcision. I previously referenced this story in Part 3, The Skeptic Who Became an Apostle.

Following the resolution of the controversy over circumcision in Acts 15, Paul asked Barnabas that they should go back and visit the places where they had been on the first missionary journey — v. 36. Barnabas wanted to take Mark along — v. 37; apparently, he had returned to Antioch. Paul did not think it was wise, since he had previously deserted them in Pamphylia — v. 38.

They had such a heated disagreement that Barnabas sailed for Cyprus with Mark, and Paul chose Silas and left to go visit the believers.

My Opinion

It may seem that Barnabas chose family over his relationship with Paul, and there could be other undertones at play. However, I believe Barnabas knew or saw something about Mark that Paul did not—namely, that Mark was not an unreliable person.

The biblical record bears this out. He was highly regarded by the apostle Peter, and even later by Paul, who had previously rejected him.

Peter calls him “son” while Mark was with him in Babylon — 1 Peter 5:13.

He is subsequently found alongside Paul on multiple occasions (Colossians 4:10; Philemon 1:24). Paul later writes of him:

“Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is useful to me for ministry.”

— 2 Timothy 4:11

Some scholars believe Paul wrote 1 Timothy and 2 Timothy 15–18 years after his disagreement with Barnabas over Mark, near the end of his life.

This is the same Paul who earlier thought it was not wise to take Mark along. Yet here he acknowledges Mark’s usefulness. We do not get to hear Barnabas’ side of this story, but this stands as a clear endorsement and reversal of Paul’s earlier judgment.

This is, for me, the strongest argument for believing that Paul was wrong to reject Mark at that earlier point.

The object lesson I take from this is that we must be careful not to be quick to dismiss or reject people, and certainly not on the basis of a single failure (real or imagined) or disagreement. I believe this aligns with Paul’s own words:

“We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves.”

— Romans 15:1 (ESV)

Your Turn

You don’t have to agree with my analysis because it is only my interpretative inference. If you believe Paul was right or have other ideas, I would love to hear your thoughts.

Your answer doesn’t have to be as long as mine—feel free to share in the comments.

Share

Leave a comment

This is a fun, lighthearted series intended not necessarily to teach, but to spark conversation. Consider this an open invitation to share what you know, like, dislike, or simply find interesting about any of the apostles. This is a judgment-free zone, so feel free to share your thoughts and opinions.

Series Third Question

The third question of this series is: Who is the unexpected/surprising apostle and church leader?

My Answer: Apostle James

James is the one I’m most surprised to see emerge as an apostle and church leader—and here’s why. But first, a few biographical details.

A Few Biographical Facts

The James in question is not James, the brother of the apostle John. That James was killed early in the life of the church by King Herod (Acts 12:2).

This James is the brother of Jesus Himself, meaning he was a son of Mary and Joseph. In other words, he was biologically related to Jesus through their mother, Mary.

He was also the brother of Jude (Jude 1), whom I will explore in a separate post.

And yes, this James is the one who wrote the book of James.

James’ Sudden Rise

That James was an apostle, in the broader New Testament sense, is not in doubt, although he was not a foundational apostle like Peter and John. Rather, he belonged to the second generation of apostles, alongside figures like Paul.

James was a peripheral figure in the Gospel narratives, almost standing in the shadows. The Bible didn’t record that he was present at Jesus’ trial or crucifixion. Even in Acts, he is absent from many of the early defining moments of the church. He is not mentioned on the Day of Pentecost, during the initial persecution by the Jewish council, or in major events such as Peter’s imprisonment and miraculous release.

Then we arrive at Acts 15, and suddenly James appears as a figure of immense prominence alongside Peter and the other apostles.

Barnabas and Paul had come down from Antioch to consult with the apostles and elders regarding whether Gentile converts should be circumcised like the Jews.

After much debate, Peter addressed the council and argued that requiring circumcision of Gentiles would place upon them an unnecessary yoke (Acts 15:7–11). Barnabas and Paul then recounted the signs and wonders God had done through them among the Gentiles (Acts 15:12).

Finally, James spoke—and his was the decisive voice.

“It is my judgment, therefore, that we should not make it difficult for the Gentiles who are turning to God.”

— Acts 15:19

He then outlined recommendations that became the basis of the letter sent to the church in Antioch and the standard by which Gentile believers were expected to live (Acts 15:23–29).

James’ leadership and authority in the early church are remarkable in themselves, especially when one considers his beginnings and his early relationship with Jesus.

Let’s explore that.

James Was a Skeptic

James, along with Jesus’ other brothers—Jude and the rest—did not believe in Him at all.

In John 7, they said to Him:

“Leave Galilee and go to Judea, so that your disciples there may see the works you do. No one who wants to become a public figure acts in secret. Since you are doing these things, show yourself to the world.”

— John 7:3–4

They viewed Jesus as someone seeking attention, eager to make a name for Himself. Then John adds this devastating comment:

“For even his own brothers did not believe in him.”

— John 7:5

Ouch.

It is one thing for outsiders not to believe in you. It is another thing entirely when your own family—your brothers and sisters, the people who know you best—do not believe in you.

In addition, in Mark 3, we are told that because of Jesus’ relentless ministry, His family reacted this way:

“When his family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, ‘He is out of his mind.’”

— Mark 3:21 NIV

In other words, they thought He had lost His senses. This is remarkably similar to the accusation made by some of the Jews in John 10:20.

I believe this attitude toward Jesus forms the backdrop to His response in Matthew 12. When He was told that His mother and brothers were waiting to speak with Him, He asked:

“Who is My mother, and who are My brothers?”

— Matthew 12:48

He then added that those who do the will of His Father are His brother, sister, and mother (Matthew 12:49–50).

Given this background, how did James go from being an unbelieving brother—a skeptic to becoming an apostle and one of the most prominent leaders in the early church?

James Became an Apostle

First, let’s establish that James was an apostle. Then we can explore how he became one and rose to such prominence in the early church.

James never referred to himself as an apostle, but others did, and I believe his standing alongside Peter and John confirms it.

Paul referred to him as an apostle when recounting an early visit to Jerusalem:

“Then after three years I went up to Jerusalem to see Peter, and remained with him fifteen days. But I saw none of the other apostles except James, the Lord’s brother.”

— Galatians 1:18–19

Then, describing a later visit to Jerusalem some fourteen years afterward, Paul acknowledged James alongside Peter and John as leaders and pillars of the church (Galatians 2:2, 9).

This establishes James as an apostle and one of the foremost leaders of the early church. Yet it still does not explain how this happened.

Paul may provide a clue elsewhere. Defending the reality of Christ’s resurrection, he listed several post-resurrection appearances of Jesus. After mentioning Peter, the Twelve, and many other witnesses, he wrote:

“After that He was seen by James, then by all the apostles.”

— 1 Corinthians 15:7

We are given no details about this encounter, but I believe it was probably the moment that finally convinced James of Jesus’ divinity and that He truly was who He claimed to be.

It may also have been the occasion on which the risen Christ commissioned him for ministry. That would explain why James was later recognized by the other apostles as a fellow elder, apostle, and leader in the church.

James’ Transformation and Impact

James’ contribution to the circumcision debate in Acts 15 was decisive. His judgment became the basis upon which the church resolved the issue, and it provided support for Paul’s continuing struggle against those who insisted that Gentile believers must be circumcised. That conflict would continue to surface throughout Paul’s ministry and can be seen in letters such as Galatians, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Ephesians, and Colossians.

His story is remarkable.

He went from not believing in Jesus to becoming His disciple. He went from being a skeptic who thought Jesus was “out of His mind” to becoming an apostle and one of the most influential voices in the early church.

Few stories illustrate the transforming power of the resurrection more clearly than that of James.

Your Turn

Are you surprised, as I was, that James became an apostle? Or is there someone else whose apostleship surprises you even more?

Your answer doesn’t have to be as long as mine—feel free to share in the comments.

Next Episode Preview

I will be announcing, by Tuesday, the question for the next part on my Facebook page. Please check it out and stay tuned.

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Leave a comment

This is a fun, lighthearted series intended not necessarily to teach, but to spark conversation. Consider this an open invitation to share what you know, like, dislike, or simply find interesting about any of the apostles. This is a judgment-free zone, so feel free to share your thoughts and opinions.

Series Second Question

The second question of this series is: Who’s the apostle you’re most likely to get along with and why?

My Answer: Apostle Peter

Peter is the apostle, I believe, I can very much get along with—and here is why.

A Few Biographical Facts

Like John, my favorite apostle, Peter was a fisherman, along with his brother Andrew, and the two were close associates.

He was from the town of Bethsaida, the same town as Andrew, Philip, and possibly James and John (John 1:44). Bethsaida was among the cities Jesus later denounced for their unbelief, along with Capernaum, His home base, because He had performed many mighty works there (Matthew 11:20–24).

Peter is the only apostle whom Scripture explicitly identifies as married, although Paul suggests that the other apostles may also have been married (1 Corinthians 9:5). We know this from the account of Jesus healing Peter’s mother-in-law (Mark 1:29–31).

Peter, along with James and John, formed Jesus’s innermost circle. There were the Twelve, and then there were these three. They alone accompanied Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration (Matthew 17:1–8), were present when He raised Jairus’s daughter from the dead (Luke 8:51–56), and were with Him in the Garden of Gethsemane (Mark 14:32–42).

Peter was also the author of 1 and 2 Peter.

Paul characterized Peter, along with James—the Lord’s brother—as apostles to the Jews, while he was an apostle to the Gentiles (Galatians 2:7–9).

Why Apostle Peter

There’s so much that’s endearing about the apostle Peter.

One thing that quickly strikes you about him is his outspokenness and curiosity. He’s the one quick to ask or answer questions. His most famous answer came when Jesus asked who the Son of Man is:

“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16)

He also asked if he needed to forgive his brother only seven times, and Jesus replied no—70 times seven, effectively an unlimited number of times (Matthew 18:21–22).

Peter’s outspokenness also shows in how he sometimes speaks or acts rashly. When Jesus said He would be killed, Peter took Him aside and rebuked Him:

“Far be it from You, Lord; this shall not happen to You!” (Matthew 16:22)

Jesus responded immediately:

“Get behind Me, Satan! You are an offense to Me, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men” (Matthew 16:23)

Peter even stepped out onto the water to come to Jesus but began to sink when fear of the wind and waves overcame him (Matthew 14:28–31).

Genuine

Taken together, these moments paint a candid portrait of Peter. Where some may see someone rash, I see someone genuine. Peter was rash but never brash—there’s a difference. Someone who always speaks their mind is unlikely to harbor dark thoughts; they are usually open, unpretentious, and not phony. You usually would never have to guess what’s on their mind.

There are many phony people in the world, even among Christians. I will take, any day, someone authentic who speaks their mind, even if it doesn’t always come out perfectly. Peter is that kind of person.

Humble

Peter is a foundational apostle—a first-class apostle, in fact, an apostle of apostles. But you may not know it because he was refreshingly humble, unassuming, and human.

When members of the circumcision party challenged his decision to visit and eat with Gentiles in Cornelius’ house, he did not dismiss their criticism or assert his authority as an apostle. Rather, he responded calmly and explained his decision (Acts 11:1–18).

Similarly, when Paul rebuked him for withdrawing from table fellowship with Gentiles in Antioch—an episode I’ll return to in a later part of this series—he received it without argument or condescension (Galatians 2:11–14).

In these cases, he acted with the mind of Jesus:

“Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death…” (Philippians 2:6–8 NIV)

In my view, Peter exemplified the kind of leaders that are generally lacking in the church today. In their place, there are leaders who are unaccountable to, contemptuous of, and lord it over God’s people. Peter is the kind of leader I can follow and get along with.

Finally, Loyal

Finally, Peter embodied the kind of loyalty you expect in a family member or friend. You may ask, didn’t he deny Jesus? Yes, and Jesus had predicted it and warned him:

“…Simon, Simon! Indeed, Satan has asked for you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, that your faith should not fail…” (Luke 22:31–32)

Yet Peter, overconfident, boasted:

“…Lord, I am ready to go with You, both to prison and to death” (v.33)

He meant it sincerely and later demonstrated his loyalty by cutting off the ear of Malchus, the high priest’s servant (John 18:10).

Peter faltered and ultimately denied Jesus as predicted—his most well-known failure. But I believe it was not a betrayal like Judas, which was deliberate. His came from fear, highlighting his human weakness. Many of us have acted or spoken out of fear at some point.

Nonetheless, he recovered from this failure and became a loyal and fearless follower of Jesus, to the point that even the Jewish council noticed his boldness (Acts 4:13).

He remained loyal to the very end, reportedly (recorded in extra biblical tradition) requesting to be crucified upside down because he felt unworthy to die in the same manner as Jesus.

Peter’s Transformation

Peter’s story is less about his failures and more about his conviction and unwavering loyalty to Jesus. The defining character of his life is his transformation: the disciple who was often rash and sometimes fearful became a disciplined and formidable leader of the early church after Jesus’ resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2).

Jesus’ questioning and commissioning of Peter in John 21:15–19 is his ultimate seal of approval.

Peter is a kindred spirit and an apostle I can get along with.

Your Turn

Who’s yours?

Your answer doesn’t have to be as long as mine—it could be as simple as one reason why you think you’ll get along with any particular apostle. Feel free to share in the comments.

Next Episode Preview

In the next part, let us examine the question Who is your unexpected/surprising apostle and church leader? Stay tuned.

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As previously announced, this is a fun, lighthearted series intended not necessarily to teach, but to spark conversation. Consider this an open invitation to share what you know, like, dislike, or simply find interesting about any of the apostles. This is a judgment-free zone, so feel free to share your thoughts and opinions.

The First Question

The first question of this installment is: Who’s your favorite apostle?

My Answer: Apostle John

Bar none, the Apostle John is my favorite apostle—and the one I’d most want to hang out with.

A Few Biographical Facts

He was a fisherman, alongside his brother James and their father Zebedee (Matthew 4:21–22; Mark 1:19–20). Scripture never explicitly states they were twins, though it could be assumed from their close association.

He was one of only 2 apostles—alongside his brother James—whose mother is directly featured in the Gospel narrative—specifically in her request that her sons sit at Jesus’ right and left in His kingdom (Matthew 20:20–23).

In addition to the Gospel of John, he wrote 1, 2, and 3 John, as well as the Book of Revelation.

He also referred to himself euphemistically as “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 13:23; John 19:26; John 21:20).

Why Apostle John

The Gospel of John is my favorite Gospel for several reasons.

First, it gives us the clearest and most comprehensive evidence of Jesus’s divinity. John chapters 14–17 especially contain some of the clearest distinctions within the Trinity or Godhead because Jesus Himself makes those distinctions explicit. I frankly cannot understand how anyone can read and understand those chapters and still teach or believe the Oneness or Modalist doctrine that says Jesus is the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are distinct persons who share the same divine essence.

It also contains some of the most well-known verses in all of Scripture, such as:

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” — John 3:16 (NKJV)

And:

“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” — John 14:6 (NKJV)

The Gospel’s Unique Focus

While the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke primarily emphasize Jesus’s teachings, parables, and public ministry, John gives us another window into Christ through some of His longest, deepest, most intense, and most intimate conversations.

Conversations like John 6, where Jesus teaches about being the Bread of Life, or John 5, where He lays out the fourfold witness that testifies to who He is.

The Apostle John also records more of Jesus’s public prayers than the other Gospel writers, including Christ’s longest recorded prayer in John 17.

And of course, the Gospel of John gives us some of the most beloved and unforgettable stories in Scripture: the wedding at Cana in Galilee (John 2), the woman caught in adultery (John 8), and the death and resurrection of Lazarus (John 11).

Attention to People

The other Gospels mainly focus on the more prominent figures within Jesus’s inner circle—Peter, John himself, and his brother James. But John’s Gospel also gives us meaningful insight into more peripheral figures like Thomas Didymus, Philip, Nathanael, and the sisters Martha and Mary.

I think that reflects a certain perceptiveness—an attentiveness to other people that is necessary for any meaningful relationship. Nobody wants to be around someone who is self-absorbed.

Transformation: Sons of Thunder to Apostle of Love

Jesus nicknamed John and his brother James “Boanerges,” meaning “Sons of Thunder” (Mark 3:17), for wanting to call down fire from heaven upon the Samaritan villages (Luke 9:54). Yet this same John eventually became known as the apostle of love because of how profoundly he wrote about love in 1 John.

I think that transformation beautifully highlights the power of the Gospel—that a man who once wanted to destroy people would later write:

“Whoever hates his brother is a murderer…” — 1 John 3:15 (NKJV)

In his second epistle, John also displays a warmth, tenderness, and pastoral affection that most people would want in any close relationship.

These—and many more—are why John is my favorite apostle and the one I’d most like to hang out with.

Your Turn

Who’s yours?

Your answer doesn’t have to be as long as mine—it could be as simple as one reason or one thing you admire about a particular apostle. Feel free to share in the comments.

Next Episode Preview

In the next part, I want us to weigh in on the dispute between Barnabas and Paul. Whose side are you on, or who do you think was right? Stay tuned.

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Jesus loved Lazarus. So why did He wait until he died? John 11 confronts the tension between divine love, human suffering, delayed answers, and wounded faith.

Let me begin with an apology. I had planned to begin my new series on the apostles today. However, I believe the Holy Spirit wanted me to continue the Grace in Action series with Part 7, which is what this post is. I’ll begin the new series next week.

The story of Lazarus’ death in John 11 is a classic illustration of the tension—and even apparent contradiction—between God’s love and human suffering. This age-old tension compels us to ask how a loving God could, or would, allow suffering in the lives of His people.

It is as much Martha and Mary’s story as it is Lazarus’—perhaps even more so. In Martha and Mary, we see the pain and the agony of loss, and feelings of disappointment. On the other hand, we also see divine love and divine response.

Much could be said about this story, but it stands as yet another example of grace in action. Let’s dive into it.

The Story Begins

The story unfolds with a message from Lazarus’ sisters to Jesus that he was sick. They said:

“...Lord, behold, he whom You love is sick.”
— v.3

Notice the word “love,” because it captures the tension I mentioned earlier. Jesus’ love for Lazarus is further underscored when Scripture says:

“Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.”
— v.5

Yet what did Jesus do? He did not depart immediately for Bethany, but stayed two more days. Here lies the tension. We often expect God, who loves us, to deliver us the moment trouble comes. Sometimes He does. Other times, He doesn’t, because His plans are different from ours. Even in suffering, God is working toward His purposes.

Jesus finally departed two days later, but by then Lazarus had died—v.14–15.

God had not lost control, nor was He caught off guard. This had been part of the plan all along. He already knew how it would play out and that death would not be the end. Earlier, Jesus had said:

“...This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.”
— v.4 NIV

Jesus was about to do something that had never been done before. Lazarus’ case was different and unique because, although Jesus had raised others back to life, He had never raised someone who had been dead for four days.

When Jesus arrived at Bethany, Martha met Him first, then Mary. Both said the same thing to Him:

“...Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.”
— v.21, 32

I believe Martha said it out of anger. She blamed Jesus. In her mind, if He had come immediately, Lazarus would not have died.

Mary, on the other hand, spoke out of brokenness—the kind that struggles to reconcile suffering with the love of God.

Neither Martha—v.24, v.39—nor the people—v.37—could see any possibility of recovery from death. In their minds, death was the end—a finality.

Yet, Jesus went on to bring Lazarus back to life — v.44 — just like He told Martha “...Your brother will rise again.” — v.23. And there are several lessons we can learn from this story.

Lessons from the Story

1. Grace does not show up according to your timing, your schedule, or your expectations—but it will show up. Martha and Mary wanted Jesus to come immediately, but He did not. He acted according to His own timeline.

2. Grace does not wait for you to believe first. It acts even when your faith is weak. Martha did not truly believe Jesus when He told her:

“...Your brother will rise again.”
— v.23

If you read the dialogue that follows in verses 23–27, it may seem as though she believed Him, but she didn’t. We know this because in verse 39, when Jesus commanded them to take away the stone, Martha objected, saying:

“...Lord, by this time there is a stench, for he has been dead four days.”
— v.39

Then Jesus reminded her:

“Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?”
— v.40

Grace acts even when your faith is imperfect, and it does not wait for your faith to catch up.

3. Grace does not care how long your problem has lasted, because nothing is impossible with God. Lazarus had been dead for four days, which, in their minds, was final. Up to this point, Jesus had never raised anyone who had been dead that long.

The length of your problem is no obstacle to the power of God. It does not matter how long you have been in a situation when grace intervenes.

Perhaps the reason the answer to your prayer has been delayed, or your situation prolonged, is because God is about to do something unprecedented for you—just as He did when He raised Lazarus after four days.

4. Grace gives more than you expect, even when you have stopped expecting altogether. Lazarus had been dead for four days. Martha, Mary, and everyone else believed the opportunity for intervention had passed. To them, death was final. Nothing more could be done.

Yet grace brought Lazarus back to life, even when no one expected it.

5. Grace does not condemn you when you struggle with God’s love. Mary—and especially Martha—must have wrestled with doubts about it. Remember, they appealed to Jesus on the basis of His love—v.3—yet He delayed coming.

God understands when your doubt is the language of disappointment.

6. Grace also does not condemn you when your faith in God’s faithfulness is shaken. Sometimes doubt is not the absence of faith, but wounded faith. Both sisters expressed it in the exact same statement—v.21 and v.32.

Yet Jesus did not condemn them. He raised Lazarus anyway. Know also that God does not condemn you for your wounded faith.

I’m excited to start my new series on the apostles next week. I hope you’ll engage with me and share your thoughts on the topics I’ll be raising. Stay tuned.

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Last week, I concluded the six-part series Grace In Action. If you missed any part of it, or would like to read the full collection, you can find it on my Substack under the tab Grace In Action.

I’ll now be starting a new series on the Bible’s apostles. This is not intended to be an exposé, but rather a fun and lighthearted series meant to encourage thought and discussion about how much we really know of the apostles.

I’ll be focusing on these apostles: Peter, John, Paul, Barnabas, James, and Jude — mostly the men who wrote the pastoral letters included in the biblical canon.

Along the way, I’ll be asking questions such as:

• Who is your favorite apostle, and why?

• Who’s the apostle you’re most likely to get along with and why? I may ask the reverse - Which apostle do you think you’d be least likely to get along with

  and why?

• In the dispute between Barnabas and Paul, who do you think was right, and why?

• In the dispute between Peter and Paul, who do you think was right, and why?

I will add more questions as the series progresses.

I do not intend this to be a teaching but an interactive and collaborative effort where we can learn together. I don’t believe I know enough, nor do I think Scripture gives us enough information for an expose. Still, if the Holy Spirit directs, I may eventually do a deeper study on one or two of the apostles.

I hope you’ll join me in this adventure and share your thoughts and answers through comments on my Substack or Facebook page — however you normally interact with my posts.

I hope you find the series both enlivening and enlightening.

Stay tuned.

A reflection on how grace enters the human condition—without explanation, qualification, or delay—and redefines the life, the present, and the future.

The story of the blind man in Gospel of John 9 deserves our attention—not only because it spans an entire chapter, but because it touches on several theological themes that remain relevant today. These include questions of sin and suffering, spiritual blindness and sight, and the identity of Jesus as the Son of Man.

Unlike the man at the pool of Bethesda in Jesus Asked an Unusual Question, he at least knew Jesus’ name (v.11). Yet like the woman at the center of that quintessential story of grace in Grace Knows Your Name, he remains unnamed.

The religious establishment reacted with scrutiny, disbelief, and growing opposition to his healing. His story stands out for several reasons, which I’ll unpack below.

The Question of Sin and Suffering

His story begins with an encounter with Jesus, followed by a question from His disciples:

“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
— John 9:1

To understand the weight of that question, you have to understand the theological environment that produced it. There was a prevailing assumption in rabbinical teaching that suffering was tied to sin—that suffering is the direct result of sin. We even see this echoed in the blind man’s response to the Jewish council’s disparaging remarks about Jesus (v.29). He sort of defends Him, saying:

“Now we know that God does not hear sinners…”
— v.31

The man is essentially saying that Jesus could not be a sinner if God used Him to heal his blindness.

To this first question, Jesus responds:

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned…”
— v.3

This answer challenges the rabbinical assumption. It doesn’t tell us exactly why bad things happen, but it does tell us that it is not always because of sin.

Bad things do happen to good people. As Christians, we may not always understand why we suffer, but it is often not because of sin. If you’re suffering right now, don’t let Satan—the accuser of the brethren—convince you otherwise. And if what you’re going through is because of sin, God will make that clear to you.

Jesus then goes on to heal the man’s blindness—a healing without precedent, as the man himself later points out:

“Since the world began it has been unheard of that anyone opened the eyes of one who was born blind.”
— v.32

What follows next is where the controversy in the text becomes relevant for non-believing Jews, Muslims, and other religious groups today.

The Son of Man Question

Although it was debated among the religious establishment, this wasn’t a question they asked Jesus. It was Jesus Himself who asked the man who had been healed:

“…Do you believe in the Son of Man?”
— v.35 ESV

Jesus often referred to Himself as the Son of Man, echoing Daniel’s prophecy:

“I was watching in the night visions,
And behold, One like the Son of Man,
Coming with the clouds of heaven!
He came to the Ancient of Days,
And they brought Him near before Him.”
— Daniel 7:13

Daniel is describing the Son of Man coming to receive final dominion and authority. “Son of Man” speaks of Jesus’ humanity and it’s His Messianic title, closely tied to the Hebrew concept of the Messiah and the Greek “Christ.”

Whether someone believes that Jesus is the Christ—the Messiah—remains the defining question. It determines every person’s ultimate destination: heaven or hell. It is the singular question on which the fate of humanity rests. Jesus said:

“Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me has everlasting life.”
— John 6:47

Jesus is the only giver of eternal life. He is the only way to God (John 14:6). He is the only Savior of the world, as it is written:

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”
— John 3:16

The Theology of Grace

Now we come to the most significant aspect of this man’s story. It is a story of grace in action. Here, we see that grace is not transactional. It asks nothing of us upfront. It is freely given.

Jesus’s full answer to the original question—who sinned—gives a rich picture of what grace looks like:

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”
— John 9:2 NIV

Notice the phrase, “this happened.” It does not mean God caused his blindness—as in fatalism—so that His works could be displayed. Rather, it points to the encounter itself, as something divinely arranged.

Jesus is not making a judgment about why the man was born blind, but His answer is loaded. It reveals how grace operates—and, more broadly, what grace is:

Grace doesn’t ask if you sinned.

Grace doesn’t ask who your parents are—or whether they sinned.

Grace doesn’t ask you to prove your righteousness or your worthiness.

Grace doesn’t care about your past.

Grace doesn’t need a reason for God to heal you.

Grace doesn’t need a reason for God to bless you.

Grace doesn’t ask if you believe in Christ—the Messiah—first.

Grace isn’t limited by how long your condition has lasted.

Grace doesn’t wait for a specific time, date, or occasion to show up.

Grace meets you where you are.

Grace meets you at the moment you need it.

This is the theology of grace. Anything short of this is not grace.

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Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz stand at the center of a line that shapes history—where divine destiny and human choice collide, and everything hinges on choices made in fear and faith.

In this installment of my series Divine Grace in Action, I explore how the lives of three individuals intersect to reveal the outworking of God’s grace. The book of Book of Ruth is where their stories unfold, with an ensemble cast of Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz.

I broadly outline the book as follows:

Chapter 1 introduces the women—their past, their pain, and their loss.
Chapter 2 shows Boaz meeting Ruth and recognizing her as a woman of character—loyal, diligent, and faithful.
Chapter 3 is where we see each playing their part in the outworking of divine providence.
Chapter 4 is where destiny finds its fulfillment.

Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz

The story begins with Naomi, whose name means “pleasant.” Ten years earlier (v.4), because of famine, she moved with her husband, Elimelech, to Moab (v.1). We meet her as she prepares to return to Israel after hearing that God had visited His people (v.6). In those ten years, she lost her husband and her two sons (v.3–5)—a devastating blow.

When she arrived in Bethlehem, she said:

“Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. I went out full, and the Lord has brought me home again empty. Why do you call me Naomi, since the Lord has testified against me, and the Almighty has afflicted me?”
— Ruth 1:20–21

Mara means “bitter,” reflecting her bitterness toward God.

Next, we meet Ruth. Although the book bears her name, her story would not have been possible without the other characters. When Naomi tried to dissuade her from returning to Israel, she said:

“Entreat me not to leave you,
Or to turn back from following after you;
For wherever you go, I will go;
And wherever you lodge, I will lodge;
Your people shall be my people,
And your God, my God.”
— Ruth 1:16

Ruth, one of Naomi’s two daughters-in-law, had come to believe in the God of Israel during her marriage to Naomi’s son, Mahlon (Ruth 4:10).

Then comes Boaz, a wealthy man and relative of Naomi (Ruth 2:1), who brings the next movement of the story into focus and later marries Ruth (Ruth 4:13). One notable detail is that Boaz’s mother was Rahab (Ruth 4:21; Matt. 1:5), whom I discussed in Part 3, The Unexpected Name in Jesus’ Genealogy. She is one of the three Gentile women listed there.

In terms of timeline, these events take place during the period of the Judges (Ruth 1:1), likely early in Israel’s settlement in the promised land, given that Rahab was Boaz’s mother.

Divine Destiny and Human Choice

Earlier, I mentioned the concept of destiny. We all have roles and outcomes that God has chosen and determined for our lives. God told Jeremiah:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
— Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Ruth and Boaz both had roles to play in Jesus’ genealogy. The ending of the book makes this clear:

“Salmon begot Boaz, and Boaz begot Obed; Obed begot Jesse, and Jesse begot David.”
— Ruth 4:21

The line of David is the line through which Jesus came. Naomi functions as the link that brings this Davidic chain into motion. Each person had a part to play, but each also had to make the right choices. If any of them had declined or failed to step into their role, God, who is sovereign, would have worked it out another way—but they would have missed out.

Naomi had to choose to return home. She could have remained in Moab, since her faith in the God of Israel had already been deeply shaken. Instead, she chose to return to the land of her God.

Ruth had to return with Naomi. She had the option to stay in Moab like her sister-in-law, Orpah (Ruth 1:15), but she clung to Naomi even under pressure to turn back.

Boaz had to fulfill his role as a kinsman-redeemer. He could have declined, like the nearer kinsman did in Ruth 4:6. That man hesitated out of concern that his inheritance would be jeopardized. He assumed that any child born through Ruth would carry Mahlon’s name, but it didn’t ultimately play out that way.

God, by His grace, chose them for these roles—it was undeserved. Naomi was struggling in faith, Ruth was a Moabite, and Boaz, apart from being a man of character and wealth, there was nothing else remarkable about him. Yet they still had to make the right choices within what was set before them.

Faith and Human Response

Similarly, there are destinies God has chosen for us, and we still have to make the right choices within them.

Naomi chose to return to the land in spite of her bitterness and her declining faith in the God of Israel.

Ruth chose the God of Israel over the gods of Moab, and chose uncertainty living among a foreign people over the comfort of her own.

Boaz chose faith over fear (Ruth 3:13). He did not know how marrying Ruth would affect his wealth or inheritance, but he did it anyway.

Faith is not the absence of fear but action in spite of it. All great men and women of God had fears, but they did not allow those fears to stop them. This is where grace intersects with destiny in human life.

Final Takeaways

Our inadequacies are where grace mostly intersects with God’s purposes. We are all inadequate in one way or another. Which of these characters do you most identify with?

Maybe you’re like Naomi—someone who has lost much, whose faith has grown weak and unsteady. God has not forgotten you. He is about to change your story and turn your bitterness into pleasantness again.

Or perhaps you’re like Ruth, living in uncertainty. You’ve left your past and relationships behind, and stepped out in faith, unsure of what lies ahead. God is about to give you the stability you need and desire.

Or you’re like Boaz. He was secure financially and materially, yet he had no wife and children—an emptiness he longed to fill, one that led him to risk everything. He put it all on the line, uncertain of the outcome. God is about to reward your faith and give you what has been missing.

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An unnamed woman, caught in sin, meets Jesus and discovers a grace that forgives, confronts, and transforms.

A Beloved Story of Grace

The story of the woman caught in adultery is one of the most beloved in the Bible—a vivid picture of grace in action.

Many women are named in Scripture. Rahab, as I mentioned in my last post—The Unexpected Name in Jesus’ Genealogy. Mary Magdalene, from whom Jesus cast out seven demons (Luke 8:2). Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus (John 11). And yet this woman, at the center of a story so quintessential, remains unnamed.

It is as if God, in His wisdom, left it that way so that anyone in need of the kind of grace she received could step into her place. Grace knows your name.

But this story is also considered controversial. Some argue it was a later addition, noting that it does not appear in the earliest manuscripts. The Critical Text is a scholarly reconstruction of the Greek manuscript tradition. Translations like the ESV and NIV are based on this tradition but even they have included it—wisely and rightly—with explanatory footnotes.

Recently, I read someone claiming authority as a Bible expert say that it should not be taught as Scripture. Later addition or not, the story is widely regarded as an early and authentic tradition about Jesus—an actual account preserved for us. I say: praise God that we have it.

The Accusation and the Trap

It was in John chapter 8 that her story unfolds. Very early in the morning, we’re told, the scribes and Pharisees brought this woman to Jesus at the temple and said:

“...Teacher, this woman was caught in adultery, in the very act.”
— v.4

Notice the phrase “in the very act.” In American parlance, it’s what we’d call “the smoking gun.” This wasn’t hearsay or an accusation that needed proving—she was caught doing the deed. Her guilt wasn’t in question; even Jesus didn’t contest it.

The scribes and Pharisees then reminded Jesus what the Law said—as if He needed reminding:

“Moses, in the law, commanded us that such should be stoned...”
— v.5

And then they asked Him:

“...But what do You say?”

They not only wanted this woman stoned, they also intended to accuse Jesus (v.6). If He had said not to stone her, they’d accuse Him of contradicting Moses, discredit Him as a false prophet, and undermine Him in the public eye. If He had said to stone her, they’d report Him to the Roman authorities, because only they could authorize capital punishment.

They were playing a zero-sum game; in their minds, Jesus loses no matter what He says.

But they miscalculated. They didn’t realize they were dealing with the Son of God.

Jesus didn’t take the bait. Instead, He stooped down and wrote on the ground with His finger (v.6), seemingly ignoring them. But they kept pressing Him. Finally, He straightened up and delivered one of the most famous lines ever spoken:

“...He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first.”
— v.7

Then He stooped down again and continued writing on the ground.

Jesus had just thrown them a curveball they never saw coming. They had no answer. And being convicted by their own conscience (v.9), they began to leave quietly, the older ones first.

A Quick Aside on Human Nature

A quick aside: the order of their departure reveals something about human nature. The text notes that the older ones left first. With age often comes a clearer awareness of one’s own moral failings and a quickness to recognize conviction. The younger, by contrast, are often more idealistic and confident of their own rightness. It is a reminder that self-awareness tends to deepen with time and experience.

After they had all left, Jesus straightened up again and asked the woman:

“...Woman, where are those accusers of yours? Has no one condemned you?”
— v.10

She replied, “No one,” and Jesus said to her:

“...Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more.”
— v.11

In that moment, condemnation was gone—but so was permission to remain the same. Grace met her where she was, and then called her to a different life.

The Dimensions of Grace

Unlike Rahab’s story, where we see grace primarily from her point of view, here we see grace displayed more in terms of how God Himself dispenses it.

First, God’s grace ensures justice. In a world often marked by injustice, it is powerful to see that grace sometimes balances the scales of justice.

The accusation against her wasn’t false, but it was unfairly applied. According to Deuteronomy 22:22, both the man and the woman caught in adultery were to be stoned, yet only she was brought forward. I believe this is part of why Jesus responded the way He did:

“He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first.”
— v.7

But let this not be misunderstood. Jesus was not defending her sin or suggesting adultery is acceptable—adultery is never okay. There is no framing that makes it right. Rather, He was exposing the double standard and hypocrisy of her accusers.

Second, God forgives sin because of His grace. This is what Jesus extends to us all. He says:

“Neither do I condemn you…”
— v.10

And Scripture affirms this contrast:

“For the law was given through Moses, but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.”
— John 1:17

The law represents judgment and condemnation; grace in Christ brings forgiveness and justification.

Third, God’s grace frees us from the consequences of sin. Jesus saved this woman from death, the penalty prescribed by the law. Though her accusers were applying the law selectively and hypocritically, apart from Jesus’ intervention, she would have been stoned.

But it is important to understand that grace does not erase every consequence in life. This is not a question of God’s power—He is sovereign—but of how the world operates under justice and accountability. God’s forgiveness does not automatically remove criminal or civil consequences. There are many forgiven people who still sit in prison.

This matters for those who claim to follow Christ while continuing in sin. God will forgive when we ask Him, but society and justice may not.

Fourth, notice something easy to miss: grace does not remove accountability. The woman did not deny her sin or attempt to justify it.

The text is silent on her posture, but she is clearly not arguing or rationalizing, unlike how some people often respond when caught. She remained silent until Jesus spoke. I suspect fear of death and shame over her actions left her without words.

Scripture says:

“He who covers his sins will not prosper, But whoever confesses and forsakes them will have mercy.”
— Proverbs 28:13

We must acknowledge sin without qualification. If we desire grace, we must come before God with humility and sincerity.

Lastly, God’s grace demands transformation. Jesus tells her plainly:

“...go and sin no more.”
— John 8:11

God does not condemn us for our past, but He calls us not to remain in it. Grace is never a license to sin—it is the power to leave it behind.

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Her name shouldn’t be there—yet it is. Rahab’s story is a quiet testimony to the reach—and demand—of God’s grace.

In my last post, A Forgotten Heir and the Grace That Found Him, I explored the story of Mephibosheth—Saul’s grandson—who not only lived in obscurity but had been driven from his inheritance. In this post, I want to explore another story of God’s grace in action.

Unlike Luke, who traced Jesus’ genealogy in reverse all the way back to Adam, Matthew traces it forward, beginning in Matthew 1:1–16 and leading to Joseph, His earthly father. Then, in verse 5, Matthew includes a surprising detail—a woman:

“Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab,
Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth,
Obed the father of Jesse”
— Matthew 1:5

Although Matthew had already mentioned Tamar in verse 3, it is still striking that he includes Rahab alongside Ruth. It is noteworthy that they are all gentile women.

The mention of Rahab is unusual not only because biblical genealogies typically list men, but also because of who she is. If you don’t know her story, the name might pass by unnoticed—until you realize that she was not only a non-Israelite, a Canaanite, but also a harlot. Yes, you read that right.

If you find yourself wondering how God could include a harlot in the genealogy of Jesus, let’s step into her story and see.

Rahab’s Story

Joshua 2 is where her story unfolds. In verse 1, Joshua sent two men to spy out the land, saying:

“Go, view the land, especially Jericho.”

The two men entered Jericho and, by what can only be described as divine orchestration, lodged in Rahab’s house. But they were quickly recognized as spies (v.2), and the king sent men to seize them (v.3).

In a surprising turn, rather than give them up, Rahab chose to protect and hide them (v.4–7)—even though she knew they were Israelites who would eventually conquer Jericho. Why would she do this? Because she had come to understand this:

“…for the LORD your God, He is God in heaven above and on earth beneath.”
— verse 11

This was an incredibly risky decision. If she had been discovered, it would have been considered treason. She chose faith in the God of the Israelites over loyalty to her nation. This is a lesson for our time: faith must always take precedence over allegiance to state, party, or political ideology.

We are called to be Christ-first—not American-first, or defined by any political party or system.

Then she negotiated for her life and the lives of her family, saying:

“Now therefore, I beg you, swear to me by the LORD, since I have shown you kindness, that you also will show kindness to my father’s house, and give me a true token, and spare my father, my mother, my brothers, my sisters, and all that they have, and deliver our lives from death.”
— verse 12–13

The spies agreed to ensure her safety—and that of her family—on the condition that she did not betray them. They also instructed her to tie a scarlet cord in the window through which she let them down, and to gather her entire family into her house (v.18). She obeyed (v.21), and when Jericho was later overtaken (Joshua 6:22–23), she and her entire family were rescued.

Lessons from Rahab’s Story

Rahab’s story is not just another example of God’s grace in action; it is also a powerful illustration that His grace is universal—available to anyone who is willing to receive it. We see that grace expressed in several ways:

One. God does not reject or disqualify anyone because of their past. Rahab was a harlot, yet God included her in the genealogy of Jesus. No one is too damaged or too broken for God to use. But this also calls for a complete renunciation of the past—you cannot claim God’s forgiveness and justification while continuing to live as your old self.

Scripture also warns that God will reject those who persist in sin:

“For the earth which drinks in the rain that often comes upon it, and bears herbs useful for those by whom it is cultivated, receives blessing from God; but if it bears thorns and briers, it is rejected and near to being cursed, whose end is to be burned.”
— Hebrews 6:7–8

God’s grace is free, but it is not permission to remain unchanged—it produces fruit in the life of the one who truly receives it. If we do not, we place ourselves in danger of rejection.

Two. Rahab should have perished with her people, yet God spared her and her family because she aligned herself with His will by protecting the spies. She chose faith and her family over nation. Grace is undeserved, but when we align with God’s will, we position ourselves to receive it.

Three. The grace in this story is not only at work for Rahab, but also for the spies. She understood that helping them would mean the destruction of her nation, yet she acted anyway. When God’s grace is at work in your life, He will move others to go out of their way to help you.

Four. Rahab’s inclusion in Jesus’s genealogy reminds us that it is not how a story begins that defines a life, but how it ends. God’s grace can rewrite your story, no matter how it began.

In my next post, I’ll examine another Bible character whose story reveals God’s grace at work once again. Stay tuned.

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Who was the forgotten heir who rose from obscurity to dine at the king’s table? Discover Mephibosheth’s story of God’s grace in action.

Jesus Asked an Unusual Question… and So Did David

In my last post, Jesus Asked an Unusual Question, I showed how Jesus dealt with the man at the pool of Bethesda to illustrate what it means to say that God is gracious.

In this post, I want to share another story—this time about a little-known figure in the Bible: Mephibosheth. In him, we catch another glimpse of what God’s grace looks like through the way David treated him.

David’s Striking Question

The story begins with David asking a striking question:

“…Is there still anyone who is left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan’s sake?”
— 2 Samuel 9:1

By verse 3, it becomes clear what David meant by kindness—he calls it “the kindness of God.” David intends to reflect God’s own kindness to this man—kindness that reflects God’s covenant faithfulness, hesed in Hebrew—honoring his promise to Jonathan and mirroring His unwavering loyalty to His people.

Mephibosheth’s Life Before Grace

Mephibosheth was the son of Jonathan, David’s beloved friend, and the grandson of King Saul. Yet his life was unremarkable. He lived in obscurity and was primarily identified by one defining detail: he was lame in his feet (v. 3).

He lacked the wealth and status you would expect of Saul’s grandson. In fact, his inheritance had effectively been taken over by his servant Ziba—a conniving and duplicitous man who was always scheming to deprive Mephibosheth of what was rightfully his (2 Samuel 16:1–4).

Ziba, meanwhile, was living comfortably, with fifteen sons and twenty servants (v. 10). Mephibosheth, by contrast, lived as a guest in the house of Machir, son of Ammiel, in Lo Debar (v. 5). Machir appears to have been a man of means, as he later supported David and his army when they fled from Absalom (2 Samuel 17:27–29).

Restoration and Elevation

Up to this point, Mephibosheth’s story is that of a man dispossessed of his rightful inheritance, living as a guest in another man’s house. He was disabled and clearly powerless in the face of Ziba, his servant.

But his story was about to change. David set out to right the wrongs that had been done to him over the years by Ziba and his associates (2 Samuel 9).

First, David restored to Mephibosheth everything that had belonged to Saul, his grandfather:

“I have given to your master’s son all that belonged to Saul and to all his house.”
— v. 9

Second, David reinstated him as the rightful master of the household when he told Ziba:

“You therefore, and your sons and your servants, shall work the land for him, and you shall bring in the harvest, that your master’s son may have food to eat.”
— v. 10a

Finally, David elevated him to princely status:

“But Mephibosheth your master’s son shall eat bread at my table always…”
— v. 10b

David’s generosity underscores that God’s grace is never earned. Mephibosheth did nothing to deserve it—yet grace finds him where he is.

What God’s Grace Looks Like

From Mephibosheth’s story, we see a clear picture of what God’s grace looks like. Just as David restored Mephibosheth, Scripture reminds us through Paul and the prophets that grace restores and elevates.

His disability could not limit God’s grace—and neither can yours. As the Apostle Paul says:

“But by the grace of God I am what I am…”
— 1 Corinthians 15:10

Paul was highly educated, trained under Gamaliel, one of the foremost teachers of his time (Acts 5:34; 22:3). Yet he insists all he is and all he has done is by God’s grace.

David restored Mephibosheth to his rightful place as master of Saul’s house and returned the possessions Ziba had wrongfully taken. God’s grace restores in the same way. If you have lost things—reputation, position, or more—God’s grace is able to restore you. As God promises:

“I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten…”
— Joel 2:25

David also elevated Mephibosheth to eat at his table. He went from eating at Machir’s table to dining at the table of the most powerful and wealthy man in the land—King David.

“He raises the poor from the dust
and lifts the needy from the ash heap;
he seats them with princes,
with the princes of his people.”
— Psalms 113:7–8

God’s grace does not always manifest in exactly this way, but He has promised to lift you from your present condition or predicament. Mephibosheth’s story foreshadows how Christ restores the lowly and elevates the undeserving to God’s table.

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As Christians, we often say that God is gracious—and He is.

When Moses asked to see God’s glory in Exodus 33:18, God told him no, saying no one can see His face and live (v. 20). But He also said:

“And the Lord said, ‘I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.’”
— v. 19

Then God promised Moses that when His glory passed by, He would let Moses see His back (v. 23). He fulfilled this shortly after in Exodus 34, when He appeared to Moses and declared:

“…The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.”
— v. 6

Here, God Himself tells us that He is gracious and compassionate. So when we say God is gracious, we are not making it up.

But what does it mean, in practice, to say that God is gracious, merciful, or kind? A story in John 5:1–15 illustrates this.

Undeserving Grace at the Pool of Bethesda

The story of the invalid (disabled) man at the pool of Bethesda is a picture of undeserving grace. Jesus, in Jerusalem at this time, went up to a popular pool called Bethesda, a Hebrew name that means House of Mercy. Disabled people gathered there, not to beg, but to await a miracle.

According to the NKJV and KJV:

“For an angel went down at a certain time into the pool and stirred up the water; then whoever stepped in first, after the stirring of the water, was made well of whatever disease he had.”
— v. 4

You won’t find verse 4 in the ESV, NIV, or other Critical Text translations. However, there is no reason to doubt this detail, precisely because of what follows and because verse 7 tells us that something happens when people get into the pool after the water is stirred—by angels.

At this pool was a man who had an infirm condition for 38 years. He had never heard of Jesus before and didn’t know Him at all. Jesus, knowing he had been in this condition for a long time, came to him and asked:

“…Do you want to be made well?”
— v. 6

If this seems like an unusual question, it is—because you would expect a man in that condition to want to be healed. But it shows how God operates: He usually doesn’t do anything for anyone unless they ask Him—this is what praying is. Jesus needed to make sure this man wanted to be healed.

The man didn’t give a direct answer, but from his reply in verse 7, it was clear he did. And Jesus proceeded to heal him.

Three Insights About Grace

1. Grace is God doing for you something you didn’t even ask Him.
Jesus approached the man, asked if he wanted to be healed, and healed him anyway, even though the man didn’t give a direct answer. Although normally God wants us to ask in prayer, He does so much for us that we didn’t even ask. He delivers us from dangers and enemies we aren’t even aware of.

2. Grace is receiving favor and help from someone you don’t even know.
This man didn’t know Jesus at all. We see this when the Jews, a euphemism for the religious authorities, told him it was unlawful to carry his bed on the Sabbath (v. 10). He replied:

“He who made me well said to me, ‘Take up your bed and walk.’”
— v. 11

When pressed about who this man was (v. 12), he didn’t know (v. 13). Only later, after Jesus met him again (v. 14), did he realize who Jesus was.

I experienced a similar kind of grace while flying through the UK. I almost got stranded at Heathrow after missing my flight. I tried to get my original airline to rebook me, but they said they couldn’t because the flight was operated by a third-party airline. The third-party airline had already told me to go through the original airline, so I was stuck.

As I was trying to figure out what to do—facing the possibility of paying to get back to the US—an airline employee I had encountered before came to me and connected me directly to someone from the third-party airline. She had already explained my situation, without me knowing or asking, and it was as if she was waiting for me. I was rebooked and got back to the US the same day.

This was uncanny grace. Till today, I am still amazed at the extraordinary effort this airline employee made—and I didn’t have to pay anything extra. God orders our steps and orchestrates opportunities we wouldn’t have had otherwise. This is what it means that God is a Just-in-Time God.

3. Grace is God giving you what you don’t deserve.
When Jesus met the disabled man again, He said:

“…See, you have been made well. Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you.”
— v. 14

It appears his condition was connected to sin. We don’t know what his sin was, but Jesus warned him to stop, or something worse could follow. Grace is not a license to continue in sin. Sickness is not always caused by sin, but sometimes it is. This statement is one of the few times the Bible links sickness and sinful living.

The takeaway: God’s grace is always available to forgive and restore.

The Picture of Grace

This is what grace looks like. If you’ve experienced it in any of these ways, please share in the comments to encourage someone who needs it.

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The eleventh hour isn’t the end—it’s where God’s favor, timing, and help arrive exactly when you need them.

You might be familiar with the idiom “the eleventh hour.” Maybe you’ve used it yourself, heard someone say it, or come across it in something you’ve read. But did you know it originates from the Bible—and that it reveals something about divine providence and the character of God?

Before answering that, let’s first clarify what it means. The eleventh hour is a crisis point where everything is on the line—the last possible moment before disaster or failure. It’s the point just before it’s too late. The hour of desperation, where if help doesn’t come, the consequences could be dire.

The Parable Behind the Phrase

Now that we understand the phrase, let’s turn to the story it comes from: the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard, told by Jesus in Matthew 20:1–16. Instead of starting at the beginning, I’ll begin with how Jesus ends the parable—and then work backward.

“But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’
“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
— verses 13–16 NIV

When Jesus says this, He is responding to the complaint of the workers who were hired first. They had been hired at the first hour—6 a.m.—and when they saw that the landowner paid the last workers (who had only worked one hour) a full denarius, they expected to receive more. When they didn’t, they complained.

To them, it was unfair that the landowner paid the eleventh-hour workers the same wage, even though they had labored all day.

From this parable, Jesus teaches us three lessons.

1. Success Comes from God’s Favor

First, success in life doesn’t come from hard work alone—but more importantly, from God’s favor and generosity. The Bible says:

“In vain you rise early
and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
for he grants sleep to those he loves.”
— Psalms 127:2

Notice that it says it is vain to rise early. This isn’t condemning discipline—it’s not saying that rising early is wrong or that procrastination is acceptable. What Scripture is confronting is the mindset that success depends only on your effort.

That’s why it says God “...grants sleep to those he loves.” He blesses those He loves in such a way that they are not driven by restless striving. His favor brings a kind of rest—something those who “...rise early and stay up late...” in anxious toil never seem to find.

Our God is generous. We need His favor to truly succeed in life. Similarly, in the vineyard parable, the landowner—a figure of God—reminds us of His generosity:

“...Or are you envious because I am generous?”
— v. 15

Although those who are rich and successful don’t always attribute their success to God, many will admit—at least implicitly—that success often depends on a convergence of opportunity and what they call luck.

Jesus said “...the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

Divine favor is shown in that the eleventh-hour workers labored for only one hour, yet received the same pay as those who had worked all day. It is God giving you more than you deserve, or blessing you with much for little effort.

2. God Doesn’t Operate on Our Timelines

Second, God doesn’t operate on our timelines. That means He may not show up when we want or expect Him to—but He will.

The last group of workers waited all day—from the first hour (6 a.m.), to the third (9 a.m.), the sixth (12 p.m.), the ninth (3 p.m.), and all the way to the eleventh hour.

They didn’t quit or give up. They remained hopeful.

Most of us, if we’re honest, would have walked away by the ninth hour—3 p.m. at the latest. But they didn’t. And that’s what makes their persistence so remarkable.

It is even more remarkable that the landowner would go out at 5 p.m., with just one hour left in the day, still looking for workers. When he found them, he asked:

“...Why have you been standing here all day long doing nothing?”
— v.6

He was the one who went out to find them. I believe God is showing us that no matter how long you’ve been waiting, He will come to you and meet you at your point of need.

Keep waiting, God will answer you.

3. God Shows Up at the Eleventh Hour

Third, in case you think this parable is really about the workers hired first—it’s not. It’s about the workers hired last. And it assures us that God will intervene if we ever reach our eleventh hour.

For that last group of workers, the eleventh hour meant the difference between going home empty-handed or putting food on the table for their families. It was the difference between paying for gas or not, covering utilities or falling behind, affording healthcare or going without, keeping their home or losing it.

You might ask, why doesn’t God intervene sooner—before it gets to that point?

God often works in ways we cannot see or understand, but He is never random—there is always a purpose.

How God Sends Help

The landowner found the eleventh-hour workers because they persevered. Elijah’s story in 1 Kings 17 offers a template for how God may send help. Sometimes it’s supernatural—like when He fed Elijah through ravens.

“The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning, and bread and meat in the evening...”
— verse 6

Other times, God uses a human agent—like the widow of Zarephath.

“Arise, go to Zarephath... I have commanded a widow there to provide for you.”
— v. 8–9

I recently saw a video from, I believe, a Christian digital creator who said God led him to a store to bless someone. He felt prompted to give cash to a woman shopping with her baby. She was overwhelmed, explaining that she had been sitting in the parking lot, unsure how she would pay for her groceries, but felt a nudge from the Holy Spirit to go inside.

Out of hundreds of shoppers, he approached her.

How incredible is that?

After hearing her story, he gave her all the cash he had.

Just as the landowner met the needs of the eleventh-hour workers, God often works through people to provide help. But help may not always come to you like that. Sometimes, you have to go to it. If God is leading you to ask for help, don’t hesitate.

Hold On—Help Is Coming

If you’ve been waiting on God, keep waiting. Keep praying. Don’t give up—He will show up at the right time.

And if you’re in your eleventh hour, when everything feels uncertain and hope is fading, hold on. God will send help your way.

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You’ve prayed. You’ve waited. But the trouble isn’t over. So the question quietly forms in your mind: Is my praying enough?

Life can sometimes throw up all kinds of unexpected surprises. One day it seems that all is well, and the next your world collapses. Job, the poster boy for suffering, clearly experienced this kind of dramatic collapse. In a single day he endured four tragedies:

1. His oxen and donkeys were carried off, and the servants tending them were killed.

2. Fire fell from heaven—possibly lightning—and consumed his sheep and the servants with them.

3. A raiding band of Chaldeans swept in, took his camels, and killed the servants who cared for them.

4. Finally, and most devastating of all, he was told that his seven sons and three daughters had died after a great wind struck the house where they were gathered.

These were cascading tragedies. For perspective, very few people have experienced suffering of this magnitude in a single day. He did not only lose his livelihood; he lost what mattered most: his children.

There is so much to learn from the story of Job, but that is not my focus here.

All of us face troubles—different in shape, scale, and severity. And in the middle of them we often wonder if God still loves us, because we cannot reconcile our understanding of His love with the reality of our pain. It’s the age-old tension between God’s love and human suffering.

For any true believer, one of the first instincts is to pray—to call out to God. But what do you do when you have prayed and there is no answer?

You may begin to experience a kind of cognitive dissonance: your faith feels shaken, and there seems to be a chasm between God’s promises and your reality. You might wonder if you have prayed enough, or if there is something else you should be doing. Uncertainty sets in, and your footing feels unsteady. This is the point where faith is tested—the crucible of life.

If you find yourself in such a place—or know someone who is—take heart. Scripture provides guidance, as seen in an experience Apostle Paul recounts in his Second Epistle to the Corinthians. Let's break it down.

The Lessons of Paul’s Trial

Paul begins by telling us that these events happened in the province of Asia. “Asia” in that context does not refer to the continent we know today, but to a Roman province located in what is now modern-day Turkey.

“We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia...”
— v8a

He then describes the severity of the situation. It was so grave that Paul believed they might not survive it. If you are facing something like that now, know that you are not alone.

“…We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death…”
— v8–9

Next, Paul tells us the outcome: God’s deliverance. God delivers His people from trouble, and we can wait on Him with confidence.

“…He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us again.”
— v9

We do not always understand why God allows painful experiences in our lives. But the heart of every trial is that we might learn to trust Him more—that our faith might be deepened.

“…But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.”
— v9b

The Central Message

Now we come to the central message of this post, which answers the question posed earlier: What should you do when you are in trouble—or when you’ve already prayed, yet the trouble remains? Listen to what Paul says.

“…On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.”
— v10–11

Are you wondering what you need to do for God to deliver you from trouble? Pray.

Do you need to pray more than you are praying now? Not necessarily. You may pray more if you wish, but God does not require endless repetition before He acts. As Jesus Christ said:

“And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.”
— Gospel of Matthew 6:7

Is praying the only thing you need to do? Yes—but even when you may not feel like it, it is good to meditate on God’s past faithfulness and goodness, and to thank and worship Him for it. You may also fast if you feel led.

This is the message God wants you to hear: prayer is what He asks of you. Do not let anyone convince you that you must perform other rituals. God does not require a complicated spiritual formula. Prayer is enough.

If you are going through a difficult season and the Holy Spirit convicts you that it is connected to sin in your life, then repent in prayer. Otherwise, remember what Moses told the Israelites:

“…Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today.”
— Exodus 14:13

A Faithful God

God is faithful in every situation—from Job’s unimaginable losses to Paul’s life-threatening struggles. Our hope for deliverance rests entirely on God, not human effort. Keep praying and ask others to pray along with you. God controls the outcome, and this is the foundation of our confidence.

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A leper’s strange request to Jesus reveals the two things we must know and believe about God’s faithfulness.

Have you ever trusted God to do something only to wonder if He really would? I recently had to confront that question. In this post, I’ll try to answer it by looking at a Gospel story: Jesus’s encounter with a leper.

In Mark 1:40–45, an unnamed leper comes to Jesus, falls on his knees before Him, and begs Him. Then he makes this curious statement:

“If You are willing, You can make me clean.”
— v.40

That is a remarkable thing to say. Normally, you would expect him simply to ask Jesus to heal him. But that’s not what he says. His desire to be healed is implied, yet his words reveal something more—two deeper truths that together form the core of God’s faithfulness.

Believe God Can

First, we must believe that God can do whatever we ask of Him. You don’t ask someone to do something for you unless you already believe they can do it. In life, we sometimes ask people for things until we realize they can’t actually help—and a wise person learns not to ask them again.

Believing that God can do what we ask is the first part of understanding His faithfulness. Scripture is full of testimony to God’s sovereignty and omnipotence. God said to Jeremiah:

“I am the Lord, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me?”
— Jeremiah 32:27

If you go back to the beginning of the chapter, there is an interesting backstory behind this statement. Earlier, God told Jeremiah that his cousin Hanamel would come and ask him to buy his field at Anathoth. Just as God had revealed, Hanamel came, and Jeremiah bought the field as the Lord instructed.

Yet Jeremiah didn’t understand why. Judah was on the brink of being taken by the Babylonian army. So in verses 17–25, Jeremiah prayed and laid out his concerns before God, pointing out that Jerusalem was already surrounded and about to fall. Why, then, would God ask him to buy a field there?

Verse 27 is God’s response. The Lord reminds Jeremiah that nothing is too hard for Him and then assures him that although the city is about to fall, a time of restoration is coming.

In other words, God was not only showing that He could restore His people—He was promising that He would.

In the Gospels, we also see Jesus affirming God’s omnipotence:

“…With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
— Matthew 19:26

Jesus said this because the disciples wondered how anyone could be saved (v.25), after He had said:

“…it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
— v.24

Have you ever faced a situation that feels impossible? Jesus says with God, it is possible. His point was clear: what is impossible for man is not impossible for God. All things are possible for Him.

Believe God Will

Now that I’ve established the first part of what it means to say God is faithful, let me unpack the second part: God’s willingness to keep His promises.

A promise means nothing if the person who made it has no intention of keeping it. When the leper indirectly asked Jesus to heal him, he wasn’t sure that Jesus would. That uncertainty is why he said:

“If You are willing, You can make me clean.”
— Mark 1:40

This is the part we struggle with. Most of us believe that God can—but sometimes we wonder if He will.

Believing that God can and believing that He will are both fundamental to understanding God’s faithfulness. Jesus did not leave us wondering whether God would keep His promises. He responded plainly to the leper:

“I am willing,” he said. “Be healed!”
— Mark 1:41

This is also what the writer of Hebrews was expressing when he wrote:

“And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.”
— Hebrews 11:6

To believe that God exists is to believe that He is God Almighty—the One who can do all things. To believe that He rewards is to believe that He will keep His promises.

Two Key Lessons from the Leper

The lessons from Jesus’ response to the leper are twofold: the first concerns us; the second reveals something about God.

First, you can’t say you believe that God can fulfill His promises while doubting that He will. To believe that God is faithful is to believe both—that He can and that He will. Believing that God is faithful means trusting not only that He has the power to keep His promises, but also that He intends to keep them.

Second, we usually don’t doubt that God can, but we sometimes wonder whether He will—especially when fulfillment is delayed or not immediately forthcoming. The will part is where we struggle. What Jesus shows us by His response, however, is that the will is inherent in the can. This is the assurance He is giving us when He said to the leper:

“I am willing,” he said. “Be healed!”
— Mark 1:41

This is the most profound and inspiring lesson—because God can, it also means that He will. God not only has the power to keep His promises—He will keep them. There may be delays at times, but He will. This is what the Bible tells us:

“God also bound himself with an oath, so that those who received the promise could be perfectly sure that he would never change his mind. So God has given both his promise and his oath. These two things are unchangeable because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us.”
— Hebrews 6:17–18 NLT

The leper believed that Jesus could heal him, but he wasn’t sure that He would. Yet Jesus responded to him with compassion.

This is also how God deals with us. Even when we struggle with the will part, God understands—and He is compassionate.

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Jesus never picked sides in the culture wars. Here’s how His example of grace, truth, and pragmatism guides Christians today.

Culture wars are disputes over values, norms, and the moral direction of a society. Jesus faced these conflicts firsthand and left us examples for navigating them. I began with compassion as the first part of a three-pronged model for navigating culture wars. Compassion, Jesus taught, is a practical expression of faith—one that God values more than rituals.

In Part 5, I wrote:

“When people speak or behave in ways that are insensitive to human suffering and pain, it’s often because they are merely religious—because their faith is superficial and mechanical. Anyone who truly knows God understands that mercy, kindness, and compassion matter more than rituals.”

Jesus requires us to be compassionate in all situations, even when moral issues are at stake.

This is the final installment in the series. But before we dive into it, let’s quickly recap the journey so far:

• Part 1: I made the case that God Is Not a Republican.

• Part 2: I argued, in the same vein, that God Is Not a Democrat.

• Part 3: I examined the dangers The Rise of Political Pastors poses to the church.

• Part 4: I challenged you to engage in self-examination in Are You American First and Christian Second?

• Part 5: I unpacked Jesus and Culture Wars: Lessons for Today.

In this post, I’ll explore the remaining two principles—impartiality and pragmatism—and how Jesus modeled them for us.

2. Jesus Was Impartial

When Jesus was asked whether it was lawful to pay taxes to Caesar—a political landmine—He replied:

“…give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God.”
— Matthew 22:21

Jesus exercised wise restraint in culture-war disputes that carried no moral weight. The issue wasn’t a moral violation like adultery, so instead of condemning or endorsing the tax, He wisely sidestepped the trap altogether.

In John 4, Jesus spoke with the Samaritan woman. When she raised the debate over the proper place of worship, Jesus first told her:

“You [Samaritans] worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is of the Jews.” — v.22

He was clear: the Samaritans were worshiping falsely. But He didn’t stop there. He added:

“But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth; for the Father is seeking such to worship Him. God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.” — v.23–24

In a human sense, Jesus was a Jew, not a Samaritan—yet He did not side with the Jews. Instead, He proclaimed the truth, because both sides were wrong. Neither Jerusalem for the Jews nor Mount Gerizim for the Samaritans was the true place of worship.

That is what impartiality looks like.

Even the religious establishment recognized this about Him, despite their hostility toward some of His teachings:

“Teacher, we know that you speak and teach what is right, and that you do not show partiality but teach the way of God in accordance with the truth.”
— Luke 20:21

There’s some flattery here, but they weren’t wrong. They recognized His impartiality. This must be our posture in the culture war if we’re going to be effective disciples and faithful proclaimers of the gospel.

We see this principle even in geopolitics through the concept of neutrality—when a nation chooses not to align with any bloc. While true neutrality is often fragile or performative, the appearance of it still makes a nation less likely to be drawn into conflict and more likely to function as a trusted intermediary. I use this analogy only as a metaphor because Jesus’ impartiality is anchored in righteousness and divine truth.

This is where the church and Christians should stand. Unfortunately, many do not. Impartiality doesn’t mean refusing to speak the truth; it means speaking the truth regardless of who is affected. Our mission is to proclaim Christ, His truth, and the kingdom of God—not to become entangled in culture wars.

3. Jesus Took a Pragmatic Approach

Pragmatism is the corrective to unbending idealism. In John 4, Jesus crossed a deep cultural divide by asking a Samaritan woman for water. She was also a serial divorcee—five husbands (v.18).

One of the major cultural tensions of the time was that Jews did not associate with Samaritans. Even His disciples were surprised to see Him talking with her (v.27). Jesus was thirsty. While that wasn’t the only reason He engaged her, she was a source of water—and more importantly, a candidate for God’s kingdom. This is something we often lose sight of in the heat of ideological fervor.

Notice that Jesus talked with her, not at her. There was no talking down, no moral grandstanding, no judgment. He didn’t reject her because of her moral failures, and He didn’t even introduce the subject himself—it emerged naturally in the conversation.

Jesus freely associated with people the religious leadership, and much of Jewish society, considered morally unworthy, yet they were precisely the kinds of people who were candidates for God’s kingdom. Think of Zacchaeus the tax collector in Luke 19, or Matthew, another tax collector who went on to write one of the Gospels.

Jesus crossed cultural and moral divides to reach people. Today, we see what happens when ideological rigidity replaces human connection: I recently saw a woman publicly disown her own father—who raised her and poured love into her life—simply because he held political beliefs she disagreed with.

The Pharisees frequently accused Jesus of breaking the Sabbath, another culture war flashpoint. Instead of rejoicing over what He was doing—healing the sick, restoring broken bodies, bringing joy and wholeness—their sole concern was Sabbath observance.

In Mark 3:1–6, a man with a shriveled hand became the target of their ideological fixation. They missed the miracle and the joy of a restored life. To them, it was merely an opportunity to accuse Jesus.

Yet Jesus did not condemn them outright. He challenged their conscience by asking what they would do if their own sheep fell into a well on the Sabbath (Matthew 12:11). He forced them to confront their own inconsistency.

When you encounter someone advocating policies or pushing ideas that seem, on the surface, cold, insensitive, or inhumane, you are often dealing with someone trapped in rigid, legalistic thinking. Their approach reflects the coldness of a puritanical ideology.

As I keep saying, we humans are prone to binary thinking—reducing everything to all good or all bad. God does not think that way.

Following Jesus Means Following His Example

Jesus acted these ways to leave us examples to follow. If you consider yourself a true disciple of Jesus, then you are expected to do as Jesus did. As He said:

“A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. It is enough for a disciple that he be like his teacher, and a servant like his master…”
— Matthew 10:24–25

If you think you can act differently from how Jesus acted and still call yourself His disciple, then you are not one. You may deceive yourself by claiming that you are, but you are not. Period. Party loyalty or adherence to political dogma must never take precedence over following Him.

Jesus did not take sides in the culture wars. He often went against the grain, charting a different path—such as when He refused to condemn the woman caught in adultery.

Scripture clearly condemns certain sins—adultery, murder, fornication, and others—and we must condemn them too. Yet there are social issues where God’s will is not spelled out explicitly. In these areas, we are guided instead by principles: to act with grace, apply common sense, and exercise humanity.

As true Christians, the world is not always going to like us for our moral convictions. But if we consistently practice compassion, impartiality, and pragmatism, they might just respect us.

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How should Christians navigate today’s culture wars? Jesus shows us the way—through compassion, impartiality, and practical wisdom.

Culture Wars Are Nothing New

Culture wars have been around for a long time. Generations of people have fought them. As the Bible says:

“Sometimes people say, ‘Here is something new!’ But actually it is old; nothing is ever truly new.”
— Ecclesiastes 1:10 (NLT)

Culture wars aren’t new—they’ve existed as long as societies have debated values and norms. Jesus faced the culture wars of His time—from theological disputes to social and political controversies—and left us a model for navigating them.

A Word on This Post

This post, Part 5, was originally meant to be the final entry in the series. But once I finished writing it, it felt too long, so I decided to break it into two parts.

In Part 4: Are You American First and Christian Second?, I described how conversations around culture wars can become toxic, and how there’s a general lack of common sense in the way those conversations are often carried out. The question I want to begin to answer in this post is: how did Jesus handle the culture wars of His time?

Jesus is our ultimate example, and if you’re serious about navigating the culture war of our moment, you need to pay attention. As with so many things, Jesus left us an example to follow. It’s like what He said to the Twelve after He washed their feet:

“For I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you.”
— John 13:14

When Jesus came to be baptized and John the Baptist thought it was beneath Him for John to do so, Jesus said:

“Permit it to be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.”
— Matthew 3:15

Jesus often modeled behaviors and practices that we are meant to follow. He didn’t need to do many of the things He did, but He did them to show us how we should live.

So how did our Lord Jesus navigate the culture wars of His time? I believe there are three principles He demonstrated for us: compassion, impartiality, and pragmatism—what we might simply call common sense. Let’s explore them.

1. Jesus Practiced Compassion

One of the major disagreements the religious establishment had with Jesus was what they saw as His violation of the Sabbath. They could not abide this. They were especially offended whenever He healed or performed miracles on the Sabbath.

One example is when they were angry because His disciples picked and ate grain on the Sabbath (Matthew 12:1–8). Jesus reminded them of how David ate the holy bread, and then, quoting Hosea 6:6, He told them to go learn what this means:

“I desire mercy and not sacrifice.”

First, their interpretation of the Sabbath laws was wrong—the law forbade commercial work, not doing good. Second, Jesus was telling them that they were fixated on legalism and orthodoxy rather than real human needs. This dynamic shows up in many culture war debates today.

Some Republicans accuse liberals of weaponizing the word “compassion” in immigration enforcement and other policies, arguing that it’s merely an excuse or virtue signaling. Sometimes that may be true. But compassion is godliness, and Jesus calls us to be compassionate.

The second part of Hosea 6:6 says:

“And the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings.”

When people speak or behave in ways that are insensitive to human suffering and pain, it’s often because they are merely religious—because their faith is superficial and mechanical. Anyone who truly knows God understands that mercy, kindness, and compassion matter more than rituals.

Another example is when Jesus saved the woman caught in adultery from being stoned by saying:

“He who among you is without sin, let him cast the first stone.”
— John 8:5

By saying this, Jesus challenged the conscience of the mob, reminding them that they too were sinners. He did not side with her would-be killers, but He also did not condone her lifestyle. He told her to:

“Go and stop sinning.” — v.11

Jesus frequently called Himself the “Son of Man” not just to highlight His messianic role but, I believe, to remind us to treat others with true humanity and humility, living the Golden Rule.

Jesus requires us to be compassionate in all situations, even when moral issues are at stake. He treated people with grace, compassion, and humanity—and He calls us to do the same.

In the final part, I’ll take a closer look at the remaining two principles—impartiality and pragmatism—that I believe Jesus modeled for us. Stay tuned, you don’t want to miss it.

Series: Intersection of Faith And Politics

1. God is Not a Republican

2. God is Not a Democrat

3. The Rise of Political Pastors

4. Are You American First and Christian Second?

5. Jesus And Culture Wars: Lessons for Today

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From immigration to gun control, America’s culture war is ripping society and the Church apart. Are we putting our country before Christ? It’s time for Christians to understand what’s at stake.

The Church and Culture War

Some of the conversations that engender so much conflict, animosity, and hostility today are those of the culture war variety. I will now thread this water a bit.

Culture wars are the fault lines that divide societies. They are conflicts over values, beliefs, and moral visions that play out in public life, the media, and politics. If you live in America, you’re already familiar with at least one of these fault lines.

In America, few topics are as divisive as the culture war. It is an arena where pressures, disagreements, misunderstandings, and hostilities rise quickly. Online discussions and social media often turn toxic. Instead of exchanging ideas, people attack one another personally. The argument is lost, and the individual becomes the target.

Why This Post Matters

I originally intended for this to be the final post in this series, but as I began writing, it became clear that it needed to be divided in two. In this post, I will examine some of the current flashpoints in America’s culture war and explain why we all—especially Christians—must dial down the rhetoric.

In the final installments—Part 5 & 6—I will unpack how Jesus navigated the culture war of His time. You don’t want to miss it.

When Ideology Becomes Inhumane

The passions and emotions surrounding the culture wars can become so intense and irrational that people sometimes lose their humanity. It is astonishing and heartbreaking how people can become so ideological—religiously, politically, culturally, and otherwise—that they grow insensitive and heartless.

Take, for example, the murder of Charlie Kirk. It is fine to disagree with his politics and beliefs, but for anyone to celebrate his death is unconscionable. I have seen videos of so-called “progressives” rejoicing over it. This is deeply sickening and disturbing.

How about the current debate over immigration and border control, and the tragedies that have followed? The deaths of Renee Good and Alex Pretti are tragic by any standard. It is never a good thing when people lose their lives under those circumstances. Their deaths should be investigated, and there should be accountability if there were violations of the rules of engagement.

At the same time, these deaths were completely avoidable and, based on the videos and information I have seen, I believe the victims helped create the volatile situations that led to their deaths. It is never wise to obstruct law enforcement in the performance of their duties or to confront armed agents. As individuals, we need to learn de-escalation, because bad things tend to happen when we do not. The Bible says:

“A prudent person foresees danger and takes precautions…”

— Proverbs 22:3 NLT

I believe it is soulless and godless to rejoice when tragedy befalls someone you disagree with. Sadly, those who claim to be Christians sometimes get caught up in this as well.

“As salt, we are meant to bring sanity and wisdom into conversations and help settle disputes.”

Jesus said:

“You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men.”

— Matthew 5:13

When the Church Becomes Part of the Problem

The world should be able to look to us for answers, but instead it does not. I recently saw on social media that Kirk Franklin was calling for activism from church leaders against ICE. First, I believe that by making that call, he’s already compromised, because he is urging opposition to lawful law enforcement activities, which violates biblical principles.

Second, this is the kind of culture war entanglement the church should not be engaging in because it is partisan. It is for reasons like this that the church has lost credibility in the public eye that we are seen as part of the problem and are no longer useful to God—like salt that is thrown out.

The Absence of Common Sense

Common sense is something that is often lacking in conversations around America’s culture war. Take, for example, these causes: immigration on the Democratic side and gun control on the Republican side.

Much of the rhetoric on the left emphasizes compassion and hospitality, often advocating broad pathways to legal status and resisting deportation. Compassion is necessary, but so is order. A nation without enforced borders is not practicing mercy; it is neglecting responsibility. Even in difficult cases, especially involving those who have committed violent crimes, prudence demands vetting, accountability, and lawful process.

You have seen some of the protests around ICE and the current government’s commitment to enforce border control and deport illegal aliens. I believe some of the approaches are heavy-handed and possibly inhuman, but at the same time, borders exist for a reason. Sovereignty is not cruelty—it is structure. Even the Bible tells us:

“From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands.”

— Acts 17:26

Notice that Paul says God set the boundaries of nations. Someone might say it is all stolen land and was never given by God. That may very well be true, but which nation on earth currently has sovereignty only over its original territory? Boundaries recognized by international law need to be controlled. It is common sense.

On the other side, many Republicans treat nearly any meaningful gun regulation as an assault on the Second Amendment. But acknowledging a constitutional right does not mean that right is beyond reasonable limits. Preventing criminals and the dangerously unstable from accessing firearms is not tyranny—it is prudence.

Republicans would argue that guns do not kill people; bad people do. But guns do not wield themselves—people do. When violence continues to devastate families and communities, safeguards that prevent criminals and the dangerously unstable from accessing firearms are not betrayals of freedom; they are the due diligence that is necessary to protect us all.

I am troubled by how violent American society has become and the danger that confronts us all. Sadly, many who passionately defend gun rights only recognize the danger when they or their loved ones become victims of gun violence.

The argument that we need guns to protect ourselves does not always hold. We have seen cases of heavily armed individuals becoming victims of gun violence or, in some cases, even using it on their loved ones. Practical wisdom calls for restricting access to guns, and if you oppose it and claim you are a Christian, I say to you, you do not know the Bible. When Peter drew his sword and cut the ear of the high priest’s servant, Jesus told him:

“Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword.”

— Matthew 26:52

Referencing this verse is not to suggest that owning guns is inherently wrong; after all, Jesus himself told them earlier to buy swords (Luke 22:36). But when Peter drew his weapon, Jesus told him to put it away—not because force is never justified, but because violence is a dangerous way to resolve conflict, and even when exercised legitimately, it can carry serious consequences.

In closing, take a moment to examine your own heart: which culture do you primarily subscribe to, and do you believe American culture supersedes the teachings of Christ? Your answer would resolve the question posed in the title—whether you are Christian first or American first. It is an invitation to honestly reckon with whether you are prepared to follow the example of Jesus that I will explore in the next post.

In my next post, I will unpack the lessons that Jesus’s example holds for us.

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