Tag: Repentance

The Height of Arrogance

In Matthew 21, Mark 12, and Luke 20, Jesus tells a powerful parable of a landowner who leases his vineyard to tenants. When harvest time comes, he sends servants to collect his share, but the tenants beat, stone, and kill each one. Finally, he sends his son, thinking they’ll surely respect him. Instead, they plot to kill the son too, hoping to seize his inheritance. Furious, the landowner ultimately judges these tenants, killing them and giving the vineyard to others who will honor him.

What’s shocking about this story isn’t just the violence—it’s the tenants’ absolute arrogance. These tenants are metaphorical for Israel’s leaders who repeatedly rejected God’s prophets, and finally, God’s Son. Their actions expose an entitlement to God’s blessings, assuming they could reject His ways yet still keep His favor.

Jesus’ parable confronts us, too. In what ways do we ignore or downplay the cost of grace? It’s easy to take God’s mercy for granted, to feel entitled to His patience, assuming His favor even when we resist Him. But God’s grace is not a license to disregard His voice. To persistently ignore Him and expect blessing shows a heart not yielded to God but steeped in pride.

This parable calls us to humility, to recognize that God’s mercy is not something we can demand or abuse. It’s an invitation to listen, repent, and align our hearts with His. Ultimately, God’s grace is abundantly generous, but it’s meant to transform us, not excuse us.

What Happens When Signs Overshadow the Savior?

In the Gospels, we often see Jesus performing miracles, but what’s strange is that after He heals, delivers, or raises the dead, He frequently instructs those involved to tell no one about it. This pattern, known as the Messianic Secret, raises a compelling question: why would Jesus not want people to spread the news about these incredible works?

One possible reason is timing. Jesus knew that His mission to the cross was central to His work on earth, and drawing too much attention to the miracles could lead to premature confrontation with the authorities. If the crowds focused on Him as merely a miracle worker or political messiah, it might derail the real purpose of His coming—to suffer, die, and be resurrected for our sins.

But beyond the timing issue, there is something deeper. Miracles, as extraordinary as they are, were never meant to be the main event in Jesus’ ministry. Miracles are signs, pointers to something greater: the message of the Kingdom of God. This is where the tension arises. In modern church movements like the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR), there’s often an emphasis on signs and wonders. Churches like Bethel in Redding, California, have drawn crowds by emphasizing supernatural manifestations. While these events can be powerful, there’s always the danger of the miracles becoming the focus rather than the deeper spiritual realities to which they point.

Jesus never wanted the works He performed to distract from the real mission. In fact, He consistently framed His miracles within the context of repentance and faith. The people He healed, the demons He cast out, and the dead He raised all pointed to His divine authority to forgive sin and usher in the Kingdom of God. The miracles alone weren’t the point—the real message was the Good News that the Kingdom was breaking in.

Consider how this might apply to us today. Are we more interested in the “show” of Christianity—seeking blessings, miracles, and experiences—or in the substance of the Gospel? Jesus is concerned with transforming hearts, not just with external displays of power. His desire is for us to follow Him, not because He can perform miracles, but because He is the Savior.

So what about us? When we hear stories of healing or deliverance, do we praise the miracle, or do we worship the God behind it? Do we get caught up in the excitement of signs, or are we allowing those signs to lead us deeper into a relationship with Christ? Jesus’ call is clear—seek first His Kingdom. Miracles, signs, and wonders can only take us so far; it’s the Gospel of repentance and faith that changes our hearts and brings eternal life.

In modern Christian culture, there is a subtle danger of becoming spectators, seeking out experiences that make us feel closer to God while avoiding the hard truths of surrender and repentance. The Messianic Secret reminds us that Jesus didn’t come to build a spectacle—He came to save us from sin. And sometimes, that means quietly following Him, not for what He does for us, but for who He is.

What is the Unforgivable Sin?

When Jesus warned about the unforgivable sin, it raised a question that has troubled many believers: What exactly is this sin that cannot be forgiven? As we look deeper into His words from Mark 3:28-30 and Matthew 12:31-32, we see that He refers to “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit” as something from which there is no return.

Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is not a fleeting thought, a moment of doubt, or even a single bad decision. It’s a deliberate, hardened rejection of the Holy Spirit’s testimony about Jesus. In the specific context of Mark 3, Jesus is responding to the Pharisees who accuse Him of casting out demons by the power of Satan. Essentially, they are witnessing the power of God right in front of them and, instead of accepting it, they attribute it to the devil.

This sin is so serious because it reflects a heart that is completely closed off to God’s work, refusing to recognize His grace and power. When we reject the very Spirit who brings conviction, repentance, and forgiveness, we cut ourselves off from the possibility of being forgiven. The Spirit’s work is to point to Jesus, to testify of His salvation, and when that testimony is consistently, willfully rejected, we are left with no other means of reconciliation with God.

But what does this mean for us today? It’s important to understand that this sin is not about a specific word or action in a moment of weakness. Blaspheming the Holy Spirit is about a continual, unrepentant stance against God. It’s choosing to remain in opposition to Him, attributing His good work to evil, and closing your heart to His grace.

The thought of an unforgivable sin can be unsettling, but if you are concerned that you’ve committed it, that very concern shows you have not. A heart hardened to the Holy Spirit wouldn’t be troubled by such thoughts. The unforgivable sin is a conscious, final rejection of God’s truth, where the heart becomes so resistant that repentance no longer seems possible.

Consider this: the Bible says that “the words you speak will either acquit you or condemn you” (Matthew 12:37). What are the words of a repentant heart? Confession and humility. What are the words of a hardened heart? Denial and rejection. The unforgivable sin is to stand against the work of the Spirit in such a way that, instead of confessing Christ, we attribute His power to evil.

The good news is that for those who turn to God, no sin is beyond His reach. For all the fear that this warning might stir, Jesus extends forgiveness to anyone willing to repent. He is slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and ready to forgive those who seek Him. The unforgivable sin isn’t something that sneaks up on us — it’s a deliberate, hardened choice to turn away from God, even when His truth is made plain.

Forgiven Little, Loving Less: Why You Might Be Missing the Full Picture

In Luke 7:36-50, we find the story of a sinful woman who interrupts a dinner at the house of a Pharisee named Simon. She falls at the feet of Jesus, weeping, and pours expensive perfume on His feet, wiping them with her hair. Simon is shocked that Jesus would allow this woman, known for her sinful reputation, to touch Him. But Jesus uses this moment to teach a profound lesson about forgiveness and love.

Jesus tells a parable about two debtors: one who owes a large debt and another who owes a smaller one. Both debts are forgiven, and Jesus asks Simon which of the two will love the creditor more. Simon answers that it is the one who had the larger debt forgiven. Jesus agrees and says to Simon, “He who is forgiven little, loves little” (Luke 7:47).

This story illustrates an important truth about sin, forgiveness, and love. The woman’s extravagant love for Jesus stems from her awareness of the great debt she owed—her sins were many, and her forgiveness was much. But Simon, who saw himself as righteous, believed he owed little to Jesus. His view of sin was small, and as a result, his love for Jesus was shallow.

A Theology of Sin

At its core, sin is not just bad behavior; it is a rebellion against God, a failure to meet His standard of holiness (Romans 3:23). All of us are born into this state, separated from God (Ephesians 2:1-3). Sin is more than just breaking moral rules—it is the rejection of God’s authority, resulting in both personal and cosmic consequences.

Throughout the Bible, we see the seriousness of sin:

Isaiah 59:2 explains that sin creates a barrier between us and God, cutting off our relationship with Him.
Romans 6:23 tells us that the wages of sin is death—spiritual separation from God that leads to eternal separation unless reconciled through Christ.
James 2:10 reminds us that even if we fail in just one part of the law, we are guilty of breaking all of it.

The Bible’s portrayal of sin makes it clear that every human being is in a state of great need—each of us is a debtor to God. Sin isn’t a small misstep; it’s a complete severance of our relationship with God, one that can only be restored through the grace extended in Christ. Without this understanding, we are likely to minimize the gift of forgiveness that God offers.

A Small View of Sin Leads to a Small Love for God

Jesus’ point to Simon—and to us—is that the way we view our sin directly impacts how we relate to God. When we minimize sin, we minimize the need for God’s grace. This results in a shallow, distant relationship with Him. If we think our sin is small, we’ll see Jesus as little more than a moral teacher or good example. But if we understand the depth of our need, we will respond with deep gratitude, just as the woman in Luke 7 did.

The truth is, we all owe a great debt—whether we realize it or not. The woman in this story knew her need for forgiveness, and her love for Jesus reflected her awareness of how much she had been forgiven. Simon, in contrast, saw no great need for forgiveness and, consequently, showed little love.

Why This is Good News

Here’s the beauty of this story: Jesus doesn’t rebuke the woman for her past or even for the nature of her sins. Instead, He honors her act of love and forgives her because of her faith. This tells us that no matter how great our sin, God’s forgiveness is greater. But it also serves as a reminder that if we don’t fully acknowledge our need for forgiveness, we may miss out on the depth of the relationship God wants to have with us.

The challenge for us today is to ask: How do I view my sin? Do I minimize it, thinking of myself as mostly good and only in need of minor forgiveness? Or do I recognize the profound debt I owe—a debt that Christ paid in full? Those who are forgiven much, love much. And the truth is, we have all been forgiven much. If we fail to see the greatness of God’s grace, it is because we have too small a view of sin.

The great news is that we are not left to bear the weight of our sin. Jesus has already borne it for us. When we understand this, it transforms our relationship with God, just as it did for the woman at the feet of Jesus. The more we grasp the depth of our forgiveness, the more we will love Him in return.

The Wound That Heals: Conviction vs Condemnation

In Nehemiah 7:4-8:12, we see a powerful moment where the people of Israel come together to hear the Word of God read aloud after years of exile. It’s not just about listening to the words; the people are actively seeking to understand them. Ezra, alongside the Levites, reads and explains the Law to the gathered crowd. Their response is immediate and emotional—they begin to weep. The Word of God has brought deep conviction to their hearts, showing them just how far they’ve strayed.

But here’s the key part: Nehemiah, Ezra, and the Levites tell the people not to mourn. They say, “This day is holy to the Lord your God. Do not mourn or weep” (Nehemiah 8:9). Although the people are convicted, they are not condemned. The leaders encourage them to move from sorrow to celebration, pointing out that “the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). This is a perfect picture of how God’s Word works—it reveals where we’ve fallen short but also points us toward God’s grace and restoration.

This passage shows us the value of reading, teaching, and understanding God’s Word in a community. It wasn’t just a private reading of Scripture but a public gathering where the Law was explained clearly so everyone could understand. There’s something powerful about engaging with God’s Word together, where questions can be asked, and insights can be shared. Too often, we read the Bible quickly or casually, but this moment in Nehemiah highlights the importance of understanding, not just hearing, the Word. When we seek to really understand Scripture, it brings clarity and leads to transformation.

What we also see in Nehemiah is the important distinction between conviction and condemnation. Conviction is what happens when God’s Word reveals an area in our lives that needs change. It’s the Holy Spirit showing us our sin so we can repent and turn back to God. Conviction leads to life and growth. Condemnation, on the other hand, leads to shame, guilt, and a sense of hopelessness. It drives us away from God, making us feel like we’re beyond help. But Romans 8:1 reminds us, “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Just like in Nehemiah’s time, God’s Word convicts us but doesn’t condemn us.

For Christians today, this is a powerful reminder of how we should approach Scripture. We should let God’s Word bring conviction where it’s needed but always remember that it’s meant to lead us to life, not to drive us into guilt and despair. The people in Nehemiah’s time wept at the realization of their sin, but they were urged to celebrate because God was offering them joy and strength.

As we spend time reading and understanding the Bible, both individually and with others, we open ourselves up to the transforming work of the Holy Spirit. We may feel convicted, but that conviction is always accompanied by grace and the opportunity to grow closer to God. That’s the difference between conviction and condemnation—one leads to life and the other to separation from God. The more we engage with God’s Word, the more we realize that conviction is a gift that brings us back into alignment with His will, reminding us of His grace and love.

When God’s Commands Collide: Wrestling with Ezra’s Divorce Edict

The story in Ezra 9-10, where Israel’s leaders command the people to divorce their foreign wives and send away their children, can be deeply unsettling. It seems unthinkable for a people called by God to care for the vulnerable, to suddenly turn their backs on their wives and children. Our initial response may be one of horror: how could this be God’s will? These women and young children, likely no older than toddlers given the timeline, are being abandoned. Should we expect this from the “God-fearing” men of Israel?

As we try to understand this difficult passage, it’s clear that these marriages were in direct violation of God’s command in Deuteronomy 7:3-4, where God forbade intermarrying with foreign nations to prevent the spread of idolatry. Ezra’s grief over this sin shows his deep concern for Israel’s spiritual purity, and his leadership reflects a heartfelt desire to bring the people back to God’s covenant. The consensus view among scholars is that Israel was in danger of repeating the same sins that had led them into exile, and this radical measure was necessary to protect the nation from further disobedience. In this sense, the command was aimed at ensuring the long-term survival of Israel as a people devoted to the Lord.

However, as admirable as Ezra’s zeal for God was, we must also wrestle with the painful fallout of this decision. The law emphasized caring for widows and orphans (Exodus 22:22), but these divorces would have created precisely that: a vulnerable group of women and children left without protection and provision. This raises a critical question: was this the best course of action? The passage offers no direct word from God about this particular command, only the advice of Shecaniah, and nowhere do we see God explicitly endorsing the divorces.

When we look at the broader picture of Scripture, we see that God often blessed people despite their failures. Take King David as a prominent example. His harem of wives and concubines clearly violated Deuteronomy 17:17, which forbade Israel’s kings from acquiring many wives. Yet God’s favor was evident in David’s life, not because of his obedience in this area, but because of his heart for God. It suggests that, while these marriages in Ezra were against the law, God may not have required such drastic measures for the people to return to Him. After all, He had already been blessing them before the command to divorce these women was ever issued.

This brings us to another possible interpretation: while the marriages were undeniably wrong, perhaps maintaining them would have been the lesser of two evils. Keeping the marriages intact would uphold the high view of marriage that permeates Scripture, and it would prevent creating the very widows and orphans that Israel was called to protect. After all, God had blessed Israel’s efforts before the divorces—was such a painful remedy really necessary?

In the end, Christians may come to different conclusions about how to interpret Ezra 9-10. Some will see the divorces as a necessary step toward restoring Israel’s faithfulness to the covenant. Others, like myself, hold that while the marriages were certainly wrong, tearing them apart may have done more harm than good. Either way, this passage challenges us to grapple with the complexity of obeying God in a fallen world. It calls us to acknowledge that even in difficult decisions, God’s mercy, justice, and faithfulness can always be trusted. As believers, we can disagree in good faith, but we must always seek to uphold the integrity of both God’s commands and His compassion.

Why God’s Perfect Plan Can Bring Us Shame—and Healing

In Ezekiel 43:10-11, God commands the prophet to share the vision of the temple with His people, saying, “Describe the temple to the people of Israel, that they may be ashamed of their sins.” This might seem strange at first—why would the description of something as beautiful as God’s temple cause shame? The answer lies in what the temple represents. In its perfection, holiness, and divine order, the temple was a physical reminder of God’s standards for His people. It was a blueprint not only for worship but for life—a life that Israel had strayed from.

The vision of the temple in Ezekiel contrasts sharply with Israel’s disobedience, idolatry, and neglect of their covenant with God. They had defiled the first temple with their sin, and as a result, it was destroyed. Now, as Ezekiel presents the plan for a new, perfect temple, the people are confronted with how far they’ve fallen from God’s design. In that moment, the shame they feel isn’t meant to be a crushing weight of guilt—it’s a pathway to repentance. God isn’t showing them the temple to condemn them but to lead them back into right relationship with Him.

For us, this principle still holds. When we come face-to-face with God’s standards, His holiness, and His perfect design for our lives, it can often bring a sense of shame. We realize how much we’ve fallen short, how we’ve allowed sin or neglect to creep into our lives. But just like with Israel, God doesn’t reveal this to condemn us. He reveals it to call us back to Him. The shame we feel is not the end; it’s the beginning of healing and restoration. In our brokenness, God invites us into something better—a life aligned with His will, full of grace, forgiveness, and transformation.

When we encounter God’s perfect plan—whether through Scripture, the prompting of the Holy Spirit, or even the example of others living out their faith—it can bring a mixture of emotions. We may feel unworthy or ashamed of where we are. But take heart: God reveals these things because He loves us and wants to restore us. Just as He promised Israel a new temple and a fresh start, He offers us newness in Christ. The shame we feel is not a burden to carry but a catalyst for turning back to God. In Him, we find forgiveness, restoration, and the power to live as He intended.

Why Your Life Needs to Burn Down… Sometimes

When I read today’s passage, one thought struck me above the others: Israel, now “desolate,” would finally have its “Sabbath Rest.” This isn’t just about a nation lying in ruins—it’s about the spiritual renewal that only comes after the flames of destruction have swept through.

Imagine a forest. For centuries, forest fires were a natural part of its life cycle. The flames would burn away dead wood, making room for new growth. Today, we try to stop any fire from breaking out, thinking we’re protecting the forest. But without those periodic burns, the underbrush grows thick, the dead wood piles up, and eventually, a fire does come—and it’s far more devastating.

Israel’s desolation was like that necessary fire. The nation had accumulated so much spiritual “dead wood”—idolatry, injustice, and disobedience—that God allowed a cleansing fire to sweep through. This wasn’t just judgment; it was a reset, a forced Sabbath rest. In the ashes of what was, God was preparing the ground for what could be—a new beginning, a renewal.

What does this mean for us? Sometimes, God allows parts of our lives to “burn down” so that we can experience true spiritual renewal. We might resist, thinking we’re protecting ourselves, but without these periods of cleansing, the weight of unaddressed sin, unresolved issues, and spiritual complacency only grows. When God strips away what’s unnecessary, He’s making room for new growth—preparing us for something better.

So, if you’re going through a time of desolation, don’t despair. It might be that God is clearing the way for something new. Let the old burn away, and embrace the Sabbath rest He’s offering—a time to reflect, repent, and renew your commitment to Him. After the fire, new life will spring forth.

Merciful Judgement

As we read through Ezekiel 20:1-22:16, one of the most striking themes is the tension between God’s judgment and His mercy. The passage reveals a pattern of Israel’s repeated rebellion against God, contrasted with God’s persistent mercy. The phrase that stands out is, “You will know I am the Lord when I repay your wickedness with mercy.”

In today’s world, mercy can seem almost extinct—especially in the harsh and unforgiving environment of the internet. Judgment is quick, and compassion often seems in short supply. Yet, here we see a profound aspect of God’s character: His willingness to extend mercy even when judgment is warranted.

God’s mercy doesn’t erase the reality of our sin or the consequences that might follow. Instead, it highlights how undeserving we are of His compassion. It’s precisely because we recognize the depth of our wrongdoing and the just punishment that should follow that His mercy becomes even more astonishing.

Ezekiel shows us that God’s judgment and mercy are not opposing forces but are deeply interconnected. When we reach a point of “hating ourselves because of the evil we have done,” it’s in that moment of humility and repentance that God’s mercy shines brightest. We know the death that should await us, and in contrast, we see mercy as the undeserved, overwhelming grace of God.

The world often offers judgment without mercy, but God offers mercy even in the midst of judgment. This mercy doesn’t ignore sin; rather, it transforms us, leading us to a deeper understanding of God’s love and justice. As we reflect on this, let’s remember that true mercy is rare and precious—something that God offers freely, even when we least deserve it.

Perspective on Perspective

I’ve always said that a change in perspective changes everything else, and that really came to the fore for me today. When we read prophetic books like Jeremiah, it’s easy to imagine that the “wicked people” he rebukes are those far from God, outsiders to the faith. But the more I read them the more a chilling realization set in: these are not outsiders he’s addressing—they’re believers, people who are supposed to be part of the family of God.

This shift in perspective changes everything. The harsh words and dire warnings take on a new weight when we recognize that they’re directed inward, toward those who claim to know God but live as though He doesn’t exist. It’s a reminder that being a believer isn’t just about belonging to the right group or knowing the right things; it’s about living in alignment with God’s will.

God’s rebukes through Jeremiah are a call to self-examination. Are we merely believers in name, or are we actively pursuing a life that reflects God’s holiness and love? The people of Judah had allowed their faith to become hollow, a mere shell of what it was supposed to be. They had the outward appearance of God’s people but lacked the inward devotion and obedience that He desires.

This perspective forces us to ask hard questions about our own faith. Are there areas in our lives where we’re just going through the motions? Do we, like the people of Judah, take God’s grace for granted, assuming that our status as believers exempts us from true repentance and transformation?

Jeremiah’s message is a call to wake up. To see ourselves as God sees us and to let that perspective drive us toward deeper faithfulness. It’s not enough to be part of the family of God in name only; we must live as true children of God, fully committed to His ways.