Category: Devotional

To Judge or Not to Judge

The phrase “Judge not, lest ye be judged” has become a cultural catchphrase, often used to discourage any form of moral discernment. Yet in 1 Corinthians 5, Paul offers a strikingly different perspective, reminding us that judging is not only appropriate in some contexts—it’s necessary. Paul tells the Corinthian church to cast out a brother engaging in blatant and unrepentant sin, saying, “For what do I have to do with judging those outside? Are you not to judge those inside?” (1 Corinthians 5:12, NET).

Paul’s teaching here clarifies a common misconception. Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:1 aren’t a blanket prohibition against all judgment but a warning against hypocritical and self-righteous judgment. We’re called to examine our own hearts before addressing sin in others (Matthew 7:3–5). Paul builds on this, differentiating between judging outsiders—those who don’t claim to follow Christ—and judging those within the church who profess faith but live in open rebellion against God’s commands.

This kind of judgment isn’t about condemnation but restoration. The goal of church discipline, as harsh as it may seem, is redemptive. By removing the immoral brother, the church sends a clear message that sin cannot be tolerated in the community of believers, while also creating space for repentance and reconciliation. Paul writes, “Deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved on the day of the Lord” (1 Corinthians 5:5).

In a world that often prioritizes tolerance over truth, this passage challenges us to embrace a higher standard of love—one that doesn’t ignore sin but confronts it for the sake of holiness. It also reminds us to leave ultimate judgment of the ungodly to God, who judges with perfect justice and mercy.

Are there areas where you’ve avoided addressing sin because it feels uncomfortable or counter-cultural? Paul’s words urge us to be bold yet humble, seeking restoration and standing firm in the truth of the Gospel.

Whose Praise Do You Seek?

Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 3 are a profound reminder that the foundation of our lives and ministries must be Jesus Christ. Everything we build on that foundation will ultimately be tested by fire, revealing whether it was done for God’s glory or to gain the fleeting approval of others. It’s tempting to seek praise from people, but Paul makes it clear that our work is ultimately evaluated by God, not by human standards.

When we live to please others, we risk compromising God’s call on our lives. Paul cautions the Corinthians not to boast in human leaders or wisdom because they belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God (1 Corinthians 3:21–23). This realignment of perspective is crucial. If we’re ashamed to stand firm in God’s truth because it might make us unpopular, we’re ultimately ashamed of Him—and that’s a sobering thought. Jesus Himself said, “For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words…the Son of Man will be ashamed of that person when He comes in His glory” (Luke 9:26).

This doesn’t mean we should actively seek to upset people or ignore the importance of kindness. As Paul says in Romans 12:18, “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all people.” However, when faced with a choice between obedience to God and the approval of man, the answer should always be clear. Pleasing God isn’t about arrogance or defiance but about faithfulness.

In a world that increasingly prioritizes popularity and consensus, ask yourself: Whose praise do you seek? Are your decisions shaped more by fear of disapproval or by a desire to hear “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:23)? Living for God’s glory may not always make sense to others, but it’s the only life that will stand the test of eternity.

Shaming the Idle?

Idleness is more dangerous than it seems, and Paul doesn’t pull punches when addressing it in 2 Thessalonians 3:6–15. He warns believers to avoid those who refuse to work, not as a harsh punishment but as a wake-up call to bring them back to productive, Christ-honoring lives. These idle individuals weren’t just lounging—they were becoming busybodies, meddling in others’ affairs and causing unnecessary disruption. Paul reminds us that work isn’t just about making ends meet; it’s about contributing to the well-being of the community and glorifying God through diligence.

The Thessalonian church faced a unique problem: some members stopped working, possibly believing that Christ’s return made earthly tasks irrelevant. Instead of preparing for Jesus in faithfulness, they leaned on others for support, exploiting the generosity of the church. Paul’s response was clear—working quietly and providing for oneself wasn’t just practical; it was part of living a holy life. His own example of hard work showed that no one is exempt from the call to serve others through their labor.

This teaching speaks directly to us today. It’s easy to rationalize laziness or entitlement, but Scripture challenges us to view work as a form of worship. How we spend our time reflects our values and trust in God. Paul’s words remind us to be mindful of our roles in the community, to support those in true need, and to gently correct those who have lost their way—not to shame them into isolation but to invite them back into the fold.

Are there ways you might be called to honor God more fully in how you work and care for others? Paul’s challenge isn’t just about productivity; it’s about living a life that reflects the selflessness and diligence of Christ Himself.

Common Ground

The Apostle Paul’s encounter with the thinkers at Mars Hill is one of the New Testament’s most striking examples of how to engage a diverse audience with the Gospel. As Paul stood before the Areopagus, he didn’t begin with condemnation or alienating truths. Instead, he sought common ground. Pointing out their altar inscribed “To an unknown god,” Paul started with something familiar to them—a gesture of respect for their religious curiosity—and built his case for the truth of the Gospel.

This approach reminds us of the wisdom in meeting people where they are. Paul didn’t dilute his message to win favor, nor did he shy away from proclaiming Christ. Rather, he crafted his words in a way that first invited his listeners to lean in. By acknowledging their cultural context, he effectively disarmed them and made them open to the truth. He even quoted their own poets to illustrate God’s closeness to humanity—a brilliant move that demonstrated his understanding of their world.

How often do we focus more on winning arguments than on winning hearts? The Gospel itself is unchanging, but the way we present it can adapt to the people we are speaking with. Paul’s approach challenges us to think creatively and compassionately. It’s not about manipulating conversations but about being wise in how we engage others. Are we actively looking for common ground in our discussions about faith? Are we listening and seeking to understand before we speak?

Ultimately, Paul’s message at Mars Hill was bold: the unknown god they worshiped was, in fact, the one true God, revealed in Jesus Christ. This moment wasn’t just a clever rhetorical victory; it was an act of love. Paul used his words to call people out of ignorance and into the light of truth.

Our own conversations about faith can reflect this same heart. Whether it’s a debate with a skeptic, a deep discussion with a seeker, or a passing moment with a stranger, we have the opportunity to mirror Paul’s method of Gospel-centered dialogue. It begins by seeing people not as opponents but as image-bearers of God, worthy of respect and capable of receiving His truth. When we start with what is shared and move toward the hope of Christ, we echo Paul’s boldness and his love.

The Berean Standard

Now the Berean Jews were of more noble character than those in Thessalonica, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true. — Acts 17:11

I’ve always loved a good theological debate. After delivering a sermon, there’s nothing better than engaging in meaningful conversations with people who want to dig deeper into the Word. It’s not about proving who’s right or wrong—it’s about sharpening one another as we seek to understand the truth.

The Bereans from Acts 17 are a perfect example of this approach. When Paul preached to them, they didn’t just take his word for it. They eagerly listened, then went straight to the Scriptures to verify his teachings. This wasn’t an act of defiance or distrust but one of deep respect for God’s Word. They understood that no human teacher, not even Paul, had the final authority—only Scripture could claim that.

There’s a lesson here for us. While pastors, teachers, and theologians are valuable guides, our faith cannot rest solely on their interpretations. There is no substitute for personal study of the Scriptures. God has given us His Word, and it’s our responsibility to read it, meditate on it, and seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit for understanding.

When we approach the Bible this way, we honor God and strengthen our faith. Like the Bereans, we become noble-minded, discerning truth from error. It also transforms our conversations within the church. Rather than being passive recipients of teaching, we become active participants, encouraging one another to grow deeper in the knowledge of Christ.

So, dig into the Word. Don’t be afraid to ask questions or wrestle with difficult passages. And don’t hesitate to have those post-sermon discussions! When we engage with Scripture personally and thoughtfully, we grow not only in knowledge but in our relationship with the Author Himself.

When You’re Here, You’re Family

Paul’s letters to the Galatians brim with a message of liberation, none more so than his family illustration in Galatians 3–4. He reminds believers that, through faith in Jesus Christ, we are no longer slaves but children of God, heirs to His promises. This shift in status is monumental. Slaves live in constant worry, striving to prove their worth and avoid punishment. But children? They rest securely, knowing their place in the family is unshakable.

As believers, we often fall into an “employee” mindset, measuring our worth by what we do. Did I serve enough? Pray enough? Give enough? But Paul tells us that our relationship with God is not transactional. We are not hired hands, working for approval. Instead, we’re sons and daughters, adopted into God’s family. This changes everything. Family doesn’t keep score; family loves unconditionally.

Consider the joyful security this brings. As part of God’s family, we don’t have to earn His favor—it’s already ours. We can work with freedom and passion, not out of fear but out of love. Our service becomes an overflow of gratitude, not an attempt to maintain our place. And when we stumble or fall short, we don’t lose our status. God’s grace restores and reassures us, just as a loving parent embraces a wayward child.

So today, let go of the exhausting weight of “earning” and step fully into the family of God. Rejoice in the truth that your place is secure, not because of what you’ve done but because of who He is. You’re not just accepted—you’re beloved. And nothing can ever change that.

Good Enough? Not Even Close!

In the opening chapters of Galatians, Paul confronts a troubling idea: that righteousness before God can be earned through human effort. For some early Christians, the path to holiness seemed tied to strict adherence to the Mosaic law—a rigorous system that no one could keep perfectly. Paul knew firsthand how impossible it was to attain righteousness this way. The law, as Paul explains, is not a ladder to God; rather, it’s a mirror, showing us just how far we fall short.

This is why Paul’s words still ring true: the law wasn’t given to save us but to reveal our need for a Savior. If it were possible to be “good enough” on our own, then Jesus’ sacrifice would be unnecessary. But in our imperfection, Christ’s perfect obedience becomes our saving grace. Jesus fulfilled the law in ways no one else could, and because of our relationship with Him, we’re declared righteous—not by our actions, but by His.

When we live with this understanding, good works take on a new meaning. They’re not a checklist for salvation or proof of our worth but rather a response of gratitude for what Jesus has already done. We live righteously because we’re loved and saved, not in an attempt to become loved or saved. This mindset frees us from the endless cycle of trying to “measure up” and invites us to rest in the assurance that Christ has already bridged the gap.

Let’s not allow ourselves to be drawn back into performance-based religion. Instead, let’s remember that our worth is found in Christ’s fulfillment of the law and His deep, unwavering love for us. We live righteously not out of obligation but out of joy, thankful for a salvation we could never earn but freely receive.

The Limits of Human Expectation

The story of Peter’s miraculous release from prison in Acts 12 challenges the boundaries of what we believe God can do. Here we see Peter, imprisoned and facing death, suddenly freed by an angel. Yet, even as he walks out past guards and through iron gates, he assumes this must be a vivid dream rather than reality. It wasn’t until he found himself fully outside, alone and unchained, that he understood God had actually delivered him.

Peter’s initial disbelief highlights a truth we all face: our human expectations often limit our faith in God’s power. Even though Peter had witnessed Jesus’ miracles, he was unprepared for a supernatural deliverance in this context. His response invites us to examine how we might overlook or dismiss God’s work simply because it seems unbelievable.

1. God’s Works Often Exceed Our Expectations

In times of hardship, our minds may naturally shift to practical solutions, forgetting that God’s ways transcend the natural world. Peter’s experience reminds us that God is not confined by the limits of what seems possible. God’s power isn’t bound by prison walls, chains, or guards. When we place limits on what we believe God can do, we inadvertently put boundaries on our faith.

2. Trusting the Unexpected Path

Though Peter didn’t immediately grasp what was happening, he followed the angel’s guidance step-by-step. Each moment required trust as he moved into the unknown. Like Peter, we are sometimes called to walk forward in faith, trusting God’s direction even when we don’t understand the outcome. God’s path may look confusing or surprising, yet each step is an invitation to trust in His wisdom over our own understanding.

3. Recognizing God’s Hand in Surprising Circumstances

The incredible can seem unreal. When God works in ways that surpass our imagination, we may feel like it’s “too good to be true.” This story encourages us to open our eyes to God’s movements, even when they challenge our expectations. Sometimes, God’s work feels surreal because it doesn’t align with our limited view. When we learn to recognize God in the unexpected, our faith deepens, allowing us to see His hand at work in ways we might have otherwise missed.

4. Taking Comfort in God’s Extraordinary Plans

Peter’s disbelief doesn’t reflect doubt in God, but rather awe in the unexpected. This response shows that astonishment is a natural reaction to God’s grace. It’s comforting to know that God’s love often defies logic and reason. He’s not constrained by human limits but works freely to bring about His purposes, often in ways that surprise us. We are invited to embrace the wonder, allowing the mystery of God’s work to deepen our trust in His boundless power.

Peter’s story teaches us that faith isn’t about understanding everything God does but about believing in a God who surpasses our expectations. When life seems too daunting, and solutions seem too far-fetched, God invites us to broaden our faith, trusting that His power and presence reach beyond the limits of our imagination.

Rites, Rituals, or Relationship?

The vision given to Peter in Acts 10 was a pivotal moment that fundamentally changed the understanding of righteousness within the early Christian community. Peter’s vision didn’t just signal a shift in dietary laws or the inclusion of Gentiles; it marked a transformative shift in what it means to be right with God. No longer was righteousness about a series of rites and rituals or strict adherence to cleanliness laws. Instead, it became about redemption—a new covenant founded on grace, received through faith, and evidenced by the overflow of good deeds as a response to God’s love.

Peter’s initial reaction in Acts 10, where he recoils from the idea of eating anything “impure,” represents his ingrained adherence to the Law as the means to holiness. But God responds by shifting his perspective: “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean” (Acts 10:15). This response encapsulates the gospel’s transformative power, a shift from “do this to be clean” to “you are clean; go and live it.” The moment Peter understood that no external act of cleanliness or ritual was needed to enter into right standing with God, it opened the door to something remarkable—a new motivation for good works rooted in gratitude rather than obligation.

Under the old covenant, a person’s deeds were often driven by a sense of duty. Rites and rituals maintained a relationship with God, but it was a relationship heavily weighted by the need to maintain purity and fulfill ceremonial obligations. In Christ, however, we’re given a different foundation: the righteousness of Christ. Our standing is secure because Jesus accomplished what we could not; He was the “once for all” sacrifice (Hebrews 10:10). This assurance allows us to perform good works as an act of devotion and gratitude, rather than as a duty imposed by law.

The beauty of this reversal lies in the order: we’re not working our way to holiness, but rather, we’re invited to let holiness work in us and through us. Paul writes about this transformation in Ephesians 2:10, saying, “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” In other words, good works are the fruit of our relationship with God, not the root.

Peter’s encounter led him to a new way of seeing both God and people. The call to holiness was no longer an isolated adherence to the rules, but an invitation to reflect God’s love to all people, Jew and Gentile alike. When he declares in Acts 10:34-35, “God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right,” it’s a revelation: holiness has been redefined. Relationship—not ritual—takes precedence, and our lives become expressions of this connection.

Today, it’s easy to slip into a mindset where we still feel that “being right with God” is something we have to maintain by doing enough, serving enough, or sacrificing enough. But Jesus already accomplished the “enough.” Instead, we’re called to let His redemption flow outward, so that our deeds become acts of gratitude. This order reversal isn’t just freeing; it’s empowering. We no longer need to strive to make ourselves right with God but are free to let His righteousness transform us and touch the lives of others.

The gospel has always been about a journey from ritual to relationship, from rule-following to redemption. Through Peter’s vision, we’re reminded that in Christ, our acts of love and service are not attempts to earn God’s favor; they’re joyful responses to a favor already given. As we live out our faith, may we remember that we are free to serve, free to love, and free to walk in holiness—not as a way to reach God but as the beautiful outworking of having already been reached by His grace.