Tag: Faith

A Greater Priesthood

In Hebrews 7, the author pauses to unpack the story of Melchizedek, a mysterious figure from Genesis. At first glance, Melchizedek’s brief appearance as “king of Salem” and “priest of God Most High” might seem like a random historical footnote, but there’s so much more going on. The writer of Hebrews uses Melchizedek to show us something profound about Jesus and what His priesthood means for us.

Melchizedek is unique. He’s both a king and a priest—two roles that were strictly separate under the old covenant. Kings came from David’s family line, while priests descended from Aaron. But Melchizedek doesn’t fit into either category. He appears with no genealogy, no record of birth or death, and the author of Hebrews sees this as a picture of Jesus—eternal and unlike any other priest.

Here’s why this matters. In the Old Testament, priests acted as go-betweens, offering sacrifices to cover the people’s sins. But their work was temporary and incomplete. Sacrifices had to be made over and over because they could never fully deal with sin. Jesus, however, offers something better. His priesthood, like Melchizedek’s, doesn’t depend on human ancestry or temporary rules. It’s eternal. And instead of offering sacrifices repeatedly, Jesus gave Himself—once and for all—to make a way for us to be right with God forever.

The connection to Melchizedek isn’t just an interesting Bible trivia fact. It’s a reminder that Jesus’s priesthood was part of God’s plan all along. When Abraham, the father of faith, gave Melchizedek a tenth of his spoils and received his blessing, it pointed forward to something greater: a priesthood that’s not bound by human limitations. Jesus is that greater priest, and His work changes everything.

What does this mean for us? It means we have someone who represents us before God perfectly and eternally. It means we don’t need to rely on our own efforts to get right with God or wonder if we’ve done enough. Jesus’s sacrifice is enough. It’s finished. And because of Him, we can approach God with confidence, knowing we’re loved and forgiven.

It also challenges us to move beyond a rule-based faith. The old covenant—with its rituals and sacrifices—pointed toward Jesus. Now that He’s come, we’re invited into something far better: a relationship with the living God. Jesus’s priesthood means we’re not just forgiven; we’re also brought near to God, adopted into His family, and given hope that lasts forever.

The story of Melchizedek reminds us that God’s plan has always been bigger than we can imagine. It’s a plan that brings freedom, forgiveness, and peace. Let’s rest in that truth today and live with the confidence that Jesus has done it all.

All Kinds of Evil

“For the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil. Some people, in reaching for it, have strayed from the faith and stabbed themselves with many pains.” (1 Timothy 6:10, NET)

Paul’s words to Timothy cut straight to the heart of humanity’s struggles. Money itself isn’t the problem; it’s the love of money that brings ruin. When we long for riches, we’re making a dangerous confession: that we are not content with what God has provided. This greed exposes the idolatry of our hearts, where money becomes the means to satisfy our base desires. It’s no wonder Paul says this love is the root of all kinds of evil—it fuels selfishness, envy, dishonesty, and exploitation.

At its core, the love of money is a rejection of God’s sufficiency. When we fixate on wealth, we declare, “What You’ve given me isn’t enough.” This pursuit blinds us to the eternal treasure God offers. It’s like drinking salt water to quench thirst—it only leaves us more parched, chasing satisfaction that money can never deliver.

Consider this: money enables. It gives us the means to live out whatever desires dominate our hearts. If those desires are rooted in greed, pride, or lust for power, money becomes the fuel for destruction. But if our hearts are captivated by Christ, even wealth becomes a tool for His kingdom—serving others, meeting needs, and spreading the Gospel.

Paul’s warning isn’t theoretical. He points to those who’ve strayed from the faith, pierced through by their cravings. These aren’t hypothetical risks—they’re the stories of people who traded God’s eternal riches for temporary gain and paid the price.

The antidote to greed is found a few verses later: “Godliness combined with contentment brings great gain” (1 Timothy 6:6). True contentment doesn’t come from having more; it comes from trusting fully in the sufficiency of God. It’s living in gratitude for His provision and believing that He truly is enough.

Today, ask yourself: What does your heart long for? Are you seeking riches, status, or possessions as a source of fulfillment? Or are you resting in the security of God’s provision? Let’s remember that wealth isn’t the problem—it’s the place we give it in our hearts. Pursue God with all you have, and He will be your treasure, satisfying every need in ways money never can.

Want God’s Help? Get Serious

James 1:2-8
“My brothers and sisters, consider it nothing but joy when you fall into all sorts of trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect effect, so that you will be perfect and complete, not deficient in anything. But if anyone is deficient in wisdom, he should ask God, who gives to all generously and without reprimand, and it will be given to him. But he must ask in faith without doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed around by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord, since he is a double-minded individual, unstable in all his ways.” (NET)

The idea of joy in trials may seem counterintuitive. When life feels heavy and confusing, joy is often the last emotion that comes naturally. Yet, James tells us to “consider it nothing but joy.” Why? Because trials test our faith, building endurance. And this endurance isn’t just about surviving—it’s about thriving, becoming “perfect and complete, not deficient in anything.” These moments refine us, shaping us into people who reflect God’s character.

But what happens when we don’t know how to navigate these challenges? James says we should ask God for wisdom—boldly and without hesitation. God isn’t stingy with His guidance, nor does He reprimand us for seeking Him. He delights in giving wisdom. The problem often lies on our end: we approach God half-heartedly, hedging our bets instead of trusting Him fully.

This brings to mind an experience from high school that taught me a hard but valuable lesson. I was failing my Chemistry 12 class—utterly lost and struggling. Desperate, I went to my teacher, Mr. Farrell, and asked if he could help me. Without mincing words, he looked me in the eye and said, “I don’t waste my time on students who don’t care.” I felt crushed. But I also knew he was right—I hadn’t been putting in the effort.

The next day, I went back and asked what it would take to show him I cared. He mentioned after-school tutoring sessions he held every Tuesday and Thursday and told me to attend if I was serious. I went to every session for three weeks straight. After the sixth session, he said, “Okay, looks like you’re ready to put the work in. How can I help?” From that moment, he invested in my progress, and I went from a dismal 12% to a respectable 68% by the end of the semester.

The turning point wasn’t just about my grades—it was about my commitment. Once I showed I was serious, Mr. Farrell’s guidance became invaluable.

This is similar to our relationship with God. He is always willing and ready to help, but we must approach Him in faith, fully committed. Half-hearted attempts don’t yield the wisdom or strength we need. Faith, as James says, must be unwavering—rooted in trust that God will do what He promises.

So, how are you approaching God today? Are you hesitating, holding back, or doubting His goodness? Or are you seeking Him wholeheartedly, ready to follow wherever He leads? God doesn’t ask for perfection; He asks for faith—a trust that opens the door to His abundant provision.

Trials will come, but God’s wisdom and strength are more than enough to carry us through. Let’s commit fully to the process, trusting that He is making us “perfect and complete, not deficient in anything.”

Christian Shrewdness

The events of Acts 22-23 provide a compelling example of Paul’s remarkable shrewdness. After being arrested in Jerusalem, Paul navigates a labyrinth of danger and intrigue with wisdom and calculated action. Despite his willingness to suffer for Christ, Paul does not recklessly throw himself into harm’s way. Instead, he uses every legal, social, and strategic means available to him to preserve his life and further the Gospel.

When Paul speaks to the crowd in Acts 22, he opens with his personal testimony, appealing to their shared heritage as a Jew and his credibility as a Pharisee. Yet when his words provoke anger, Paul doesn’t stubbornly insist on continuing but leverages his Roman citizenship to avoid a brutal flogging. His claim to citizenship forces the Roman commander to reconsider his actions, effectively granting Paul a layer of protection. Later, in Acts 23, Paul cleverly divides the Sanhedrin by declaring his belief in the resurrection—a doctrine embraced by the Pharisees but rejected by the Sadducees. This causes internal conflict among his accusers, buying him time and shifting the focus away from himself.

This narrative challenges the idea that seeking suffering is somehow more virtuous than avoiding it. Paul’s actions demonstrate that suffering for the Gospel is a willingness to endure hardship when necessary—not an active pursuit of pain or martyrdom. Paul’s ultimate goal remains the spread of the Gospel, and he uses his intellect, legal rights, and social awareness as tools to protect his mission.

As Christians, we are called to emulate Paul’s shrewdness. Jesus Himself instructed His disciples to be “wise as serpents and innocent as doves” (Matthew 10:16). This balance calls us to integrity but also to strategic thinking. We honor God not by walking into unnecessary danger but by stewarding the opportunities and resources He has given us.

Are there situations in your life where you are called to defend your faith or navigate a difficult circumstance? Do you rely on wisdom and prayer to guide your steps, or do you charge ahead without seeking discernment? Paul’s example reminds us that faith and wisdom are not at odds. Both are gifts from God, designed to work together to accomplish His purposes.

Christian shrewdness is not manipulation or dishonesty. It is the faithful use of God-given wisdom to navigate life’s complexities while remaining anchored in truth. Like Paul, we should seek to advance the Gospel with boldness and intelligence, trusting that God equips us for the journey.

Embracing Contentment: When God Says No

Paul’s thorn in the flesh, as described in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, is a powerful reminder that God’s answers to prayer aren’t always what we want, but they are always what we need. Paul begged God three times to remove his thorn, but instead of removing it, God offered a profound assurance: “My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” This wasn’t the answer Paul sought, but it was the one he needed to embrace contentment despite his circumstances.

How often do we find ourselves pleading for God to change our situation? Whether it’s a physical ailment, a relational wound, or a persistent obstacle, we want relief, solutions, and comfort. Yet, like Paul, we might hear “no” from God—not because He doesn’t care, but because His grace is shaping us into something greater. It’s in those moments of denial that we discover the richness of His presence and the depth of His sustaining power.

Contentment doesn’t come from having an easy life but from trusting a sovereign God. Paul could say, “I am content with weaknesses, with insults, with troubles, with persecutions and difficulties for the sake of Christ” because he understood that every “no” carried a greater purpose: “For whenever I am weak, then I am strong.” God’s power shines through our limitations, showing that our worth isn’t tied to self-sufficiency but to His all-sufficient grace.

When we embrace contentment, we’re choosing to rest in God’s plan rather than wrestle with it. We may not understand why the thorn remains, but we can trust that He is using it for His glory and our ultimate good. True peace comes not from the absence of struggle but from the presence of Christ in the struggle. His grace sustains us, and His power transforms our weakness into a testimony of His faithfulness.

What are you facing today that feels insurmountable? Have you brought it to God in prayer? If His answer is “no,” can you trust Him to provide the strength you need to endure? Contentment isn’t passive resignation; it’s active faith in the One who knows what’s best for us.

In a world that tells us to fight for comfort and control, Paul’s example invites us to a different way: to boast in our weaknesses and to find joy in God’s strength. When God says no, it’s not a rejection but an invitation—to trust deeper, to lean harder, and to experience His grace more fully than we ever thought possible.

What is Faith?

Faith is at the heart of salvation, as Paul makes clear in Romans 2–4. Abraham was justified by faith, not by works, so that salvation would be a gift of grace and not something earned (Romans 4:2–3). The picture Paul paints is that of absolute dependence on God, where even the smallest notion of taking credit for our salvation is absurd.

Think about it like this: In the movie Aladdin (1992), there’s a moment where Aladdin is drowning, and Genie, bound by the rules of magic, cannot save him unless Aladdin makes a wish. Aladdin, nearly unconscious, appears to nod his head, which Genie interprets as permission to act. Genie then rescues him. It would be laughable for Aladdin to boast afterward about saving himself. He played no active role in his own rescue; his faint acknowledgment was simply the condition through which the saving power of Genie could be applied.

Faith is like that. It is not a work or a contribution to salvation; it’s the means by which God’s grace is activated in our lives. Ephesians 2:8–9 underscores this: “For by grace you are saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so that no one can boast” (NET). Faith doesn’t earn salvation—it’s merely the channel through which grace flows. It’s as though God says, “Will you trust me to save you?” and our faith is the feeble nod that says, “Yes.”

Abraham’s story embodies this beautifully. When God promised him descendants as numerous as the stars, Abraham had no reason to believe based on his circumstances. His body was as good as dead, and Sarah’s womb was barren (Romans 4:19). Yet Abraham’s faith wasn’t about his ability to bring about the promise but about trusting that God would do what He said He would do (Romans 4:20–21). That’s what God counted as righteousness.

Here’s where this becomes a challenge for us. Do we have Abraham-like faith? Are we fully relying on God’s grace, or are we subtly trying to “help” God save us? Maybe we feel the need to perform, to prove ourselves worthy of His love. But true faith lays all of that down. It acknowledges our inability and rests entirely in His ability.

Faith isn’t about earning or even contributing to salvation. It’s about surrendering completely and trusting God to accomplish what we never could. Like Aladdin, who needed rescuing when he could do nothing to save himself, we nod our heads and trust in the One who lifts us from certain death into eternal life.

Death is Defeated

The resurrection chapter, 1 Corinthians 15, gives us one of the most vivid pictures of our future hope in Christ. Paul addresses the finality of death, not as something to fear, but as a defeated foe. “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55, NET). In Christ, death no longer holds power over us because the resurrection has secured eternal life. While the unknown of what lies beyond this life might still feel daunting, this passage reminds us that faith anchors us, hope sustains us, and the promise of eternal glory gives us reason to rejoice.

Faith enables us to trust in the victory Christ has already won. Paul insists that the resurrection is central to the Gospel: if Christ has been raised, so too will we be raised (1 Corinthians 15:20–22). This assurance transforms death into a transition rather than a termination. Faith gives us confidence that the God who has orchestrated all creation also holds our eternal future in His hands.

Hope turns our gaze upward. While the process of death may still cause uncertainty, Paul calls it a seed that must be planted to yield something far greater (1 Corinthians 15:36–38). The bodies we will receive in eternity will be imperishable, glorious, and powerful—utterly transformed from the weak and temporary ones we have now. Hope in this promise allows us to see death not as a loss but as the culmination of God’s redemptive work.

Finally, this hope calls us to live with purpose and joy today. Paul concludes the chapter by urging believers, “Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, be firm. Do not be moved. Always be outstanding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 15:58, NET). Every act of love, every word of truth, and every sacrifice for the sake of the Gospel matters. The treasures we store up in heaven are the results of living fully for Christ now, reflecting His heart and inviting others into His kingdom.

Death has been swallowed up in victory. This truth removes the sting of fear and replaces it with peace and joy. While the unknown may still intimidate us, the promises of God outweigh every uncertainty. As we walk by faith, live in hope, and act in love, we are prepared for the day when we meet Christ face-to-face, rejoicing in the eternal life He has given us.

The Greatest Gift

In 1 Corinthians 12–13, Paul speaks to the beauty and diversity of spiritual gifts but shifts focus to what truly matters. While gifts like prophecy, teaching, and leadership are important for building up the church, Paul reminds us they are temporary. In chapter 13, he highlights the things that last forever: faith, hope, and love, with love being the greatest of all.

Paul’s words challenge our perspective on what we should desire most. It’s natural to long for visible gifts that gain recognition or seem to make the biggest impact. Yet Paul calls these gifts “partial” and “incomplete” compared to what is eternal (1 Corinthians 13:9–10). Teaching will one day no longer be needed when we know God fully. Prophecy and tongues will cease when the perfect kingdom comes. But faith, hope, and love endure because they are rooted in God’s eternal nature.

This doesn’t diminish the value of spiritual gifts but reorients our priorities. Gifts are tools for serving others here and now, but faith, hope, and love prepare us for eternity. Faith connects us to God, hope sustains us through trials, and love reflects God’s character and binds His people together. Paul writes, “Love never fails” (1 Corinthians 13:8) because it is the very essence of God Himself (1 John 4:8).

What does this mean for us today? While we should seek to develop and use the gifts God gives, we must also remember that they are a means to an end, not the end itself. Are we as eager to grow in love, to deepen our faith, or to anchor our lives in the hope of Christ’s return? These are the things that will not fade away, even when all else does.

Take a moment to reflect: Are your desires shaped more by what seems impressive or by what will last forever? True greatness in God’s kingdom isn’t measured by visible gifts but by the unseen work of faith, hope, and love in our hearts and lives.

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.

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.