Part 1 — You Don’t Read the Bible Neutrally

Recognizing the Lenses We Wear

Most of us don’t realize it, but we rarely come to the Bible with a blank slate.

We come wearing glasses.

Those glasses are shaped by who taught us, where we grew up, the church culture we were formed in, the sermons we heard, the wounds we carry, and the questions we were never allowed to ask. Long before we ever opened the Scriptures for ourselves, someone had already shown us how to read them.

That doesn’t make us dishonest—it makes us human.

But it does mean we must become honest about the lenses we’re using.

Everyone Has a Lens

Some of us were taught to read the Bible primarily as a rulebook.
Others were taught to read it as a system to defend.
Some were taught to read it selectively—highlighting verses that comfort us while avoiding the ones that confront us.

And many of us were taught what to believe long before we were taught how to listen.

Paul warned the church about inherited distortion:

“Watch out for those who create divisions and obstacles contrary to the teaching that you learned.”
— Romans 16:17–18 (CSB)

False teaching isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s familiar—passed down unquestioned and rarely examined in the light of Scripture and the Spirit.

Neutral Reading Is a Myth

Two people can read the same passage and walk away with very different outcomes—one defensive, the other humbled; one hardened, the other healed.

The difference isn’t intelligence.
It’s posture.

Jesus said people could hear and still not understand. The issue was never access to Scripture—it was how it was received.

The first step toward clarity is humility:
“Lord, I may not be seeing as clearly as I think.”

That prayer changes everything.

Next in Part 2: Who taught you to read this way—and what happens when those voices become filters?

Why Scripture Teaches the Wisdom of Restraint

There’s an old saying often attributed to Mark Twain: “It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open one’s mouth and remove all doubt.”

While the quote itself isn’t Scripture, the principle behind it is deeply biblical.

The Bible consistently teaches that wisdom is often proven not by what we say, but by what we refuse to say.

In a culture that rewards hot takes, quick responses, and constant commentary, Scripture calls believers to something countercultural: holy restraint.

Silence Is Often a Sign of Wisdom, Not Weakness

Scripture does not portray silence as ignorance. In fact, it often portrays silence as discernment.

“Even a fool is considered wise when he keeps silent—discerning, when he seals his lips.”

— Proverbs 17:28 (CSB)

This verse doesn’t say silence makes someone wise—it says silence can prevent foolishness from being exposed.

Many people aren’t undone by what they don’t know, but by what they insist on saying anyway.

Words Reveal the Heart—For Better or Worse

Jesus taught that speech is never neutral. Our words expose what lives inside us.

“For the mouth speaks from the overflow of the heart.”

— Matthew 12:34 (CSB)

When we speak too quickly—especially in anger, pride, or insecurity—we often reveal immaturity we could have concealed through restraint.

Silence gives us space to:

Examine our motives

Invite the Holy Spirit to correct us

Decide whether our words will heal or harm

Quick Speech Is a Biblical Warning Sign

The Bible repeatedly warns against being quick to speak.

“The one who gives an answer before he listens—this is foolishness and disgrace for him.”

— Proverbs 18:13 (CSB)

Speaking before understanding doesn’t make us bold—it makes us careless.

James echoes this truth in the New Testament:

“Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger.”

— James 1:19 (CSB)

Notice the order:

Listen

Speak

Respond emotionally

We reverse this order at our own peril.

Silence Protects Us From Sin

The Bible connects unrestrained speech with increased sin.

“When there are many words, sin is unavoidable, but the one who controls his lips is prudent.”

— Proverbs 10:19 (CSB)

The more we talk, the more opportunities we create to:

Exaggerate

Misrepresent

Gossip

Speak in anger

Speak without knowledge

Silence doesn’t guarantee righteousness—but excessive speech almost guarantees regret.

Jesus Himself Chose Silence

Perhaps the most powerful example of restraint is found in Jesus.

When falsely accused, mocked, and threatened, Jesus often said nothing.

“While he was being accused by the chief priests and elders, he didn’t answer.”

— Matthew 27:12 (CSB)

Jesus was not silent because He lacked truth.

He was silent because not every moment calls for explanation.

Sometimes silence is not avoidance—it is authority under control.

Wisdom Knows When Not to Speak

Ecclesiastes reminds us that timing matters as much as truth.

Wisdom isn’t saying everything you know.

Wisdom is knowing what to say, when to say it, and when silence serves God better.

Final Reflection

Remaining quiet doesn’t make you ignorant.

Often, it proves you are disciplined.

The world says, “Say something.”

Scripture says, “Consider whether it needs to be said at all.”

Before speaking, ask:

Does this build up?

Does this reflect Christ?

Does this need to be said by me?

Does this need to be said right now?

Sometimes the most Christlike response is not a rebuttal—but restraint.

“The one who guards his mouth preserves his life; the one who opens wide his lips comes to ruin.”

— Proverbs 13:3 (CSB)

Silence isn’t ignorance.

Uncontrolled speech is.

There’s a universal parenting instinct that echoes across generations: “Stay close.” Parents say it at crowded amusement parks, busy stores, and unfamiliar places. It’s not because we inherently believe our children are bad or that danger lurks around every corner. Rather, we understand a fundamental truth—proximity breeds safety. When we can see our children, when they remain within reach, we believe they’re protected.

This simple parenting principle reveals a profound spiritual truth about our relationship with God.

The Power of Proximity

The Apostle John, writing in his first epistle, uses a powerful word when addressing believers: “remain.” Some translations use “abide.” Both point to the same essential concept—staying close to Jesus. In 1 John 2:28, he writes: “So now, little children, remain in him so that when he appears, we may have confidence and not be ashamed before him at his coming.”

Remaining isn’t passive. It’s an active choice to stay near, to keep our eyes fixed on Christ, to let His presence dictate our decisions and direction. Just as children who stay close to their parents navigate safely through crowds, believers who remain in Christ navigate safely through life’s storms.

And make no mistake—storms are certain. You’re either headed into one, in the middle of one, or coming out of one. That’s the reality of life in a broken world. But when we remain focused on Jesus, when we stay where we can “see” Him in everything we do, those storms lose their power to destroy us.

The Family of God

When we remain in Christ, we’re not just staying close to a distant deity—we’re living as part of a family. And families operate differently than country clubs. In a country club, if someone stops showing up, it might go unnoticed. But in a family? When someone falls out of the circle, everyone knows. Someone calls. Someone checks in. Someone cares.

The church—the true, universal body of Christ—is meant to function as a family, not a collection of competing organizations. It shouldn’t matter what building you worship in or what denominational name hangs on the door. If you’re God’s child, you’re part of the family. Location doesn’t cause division in biological families; why should it in the spiritual one?

This family perspective changes everything. When we see someone drifting, our response shouldn’t be judgment but concern and love. After all, families pursue the lost member, not to condemn them, but to bring them safely home.

The Gift of Righteousness

First John 2:29 reminds us: “If you know that he is righteous, you know this as well. Everyone who does what is right has been born of him.”

Here’s the truth many of us forget: our righteousness isn’t earned. It’s given. We didn’t become God’s children because we were good enough, smart enough, or spiritual enough. We became His children because He chose to adopt us, to give us His righteousness as a gift.

Children receive things not because they deserve them, but because they belong to the family. Your righteousness, your standing before God, exists not because of your performance but because of Christ’s finished work on the cross. When we remain in Him, we remember this truth. When we drift, we fall back into the trap of trying to earn what’s already been freely given.

Seeing His Love

In 1 John 3:1, we’re invited to do something transformative: “See what great love the Father has given us, that we should be called God’s children, and we are.”

See what He’s done. Look at it. Focus on it. Remember it.

There’s a powerful photograph of a nine-year-old American boy handing a shoebox gift to a young gypsy boy in Romania. The American child, bundled against the sleet, represents abundance. The Romanian child, holding up pants too big for him, standing in mud, represents desperate poverty. Yet even the American child, despite later losing many comforts when his family’s circumstances changed, still had more than that Romanian child would likely ever know.

This image serves as a stark reminder: even on our worst days, if we know Christ, we have more than we deserve. God didn’t have to love us. He didn’t have to save us. He didn’t have to make us His children. He chose to.

When we remain focused on Jesus, we remember His goodness. We remember that if He never did another thing for us, He’s already done more than we could ever deserve. This perspective transforms complaints into gratitude and entitlement into humility.

Different by Design

The world didn’t know Jesus because He was different. And here’s the reality: “The reason the world does not know us is that it didn’t know him” (1 John 3:1).

You’re supposed to be different. Not obnoxiously so, not self-righteously so, but genuinely so. You’re a square peg in a round world, and that’s exactly as it should be. The things of God seem foolish to those who don’t know Him. Your faith, your hope, your joy in the midst of trials—these things won’t always make sense to the world around you.

But that difference should be marked by love, not judgment. Jesus didn’t condemn the woman caught in adultery; He loved her and then called her to a better life: “Go and sin no more.” When we remain in Christ, we develop His mannerisms, His way of dealing with people. We remember that behavior isn’t identity—that people are created in God’s image, even when they’re covered in the mud of their choices.

Children Now

Perhaps the most powerful truth in this passage is the immediacy of our adoption: “Dear friends, we are God’s children now.”

Not later. Not after you clean up your act. Not after you prove yourself worthy. Now.

Every promise in Scripture is available to you now. God doesn’t want you to wait until heaven to experience His goodness, His provision, His peace. Yes, heaven will be infinitely better—no more pain, no more tears, no more death. But God wants to help you today. He wants you to live in the abundance of being His child right now.

The Invitation

So the question remains: Are you staying close? Can you “see” Jesus in your daily decisions? Are you remaining in Him, or have you drifted to the edges?

If you’ve drifted, the good news is simple: He hasn’t moved. The Father is right where He’s always been, arms open, waiting for you to come close again. Proximity breeds safety. Stay close, stay where you can see Him, and watch how everything changes.

You’re His child now. Live like it.

Have you ever stopped to think about what it truly means to be a follower of Christ? Not just someone who wears the label “Christian,” but someone who actually walks in the footsteps of Jesus daily?

It’s a challenging question, and one that deserves our honest reflection.

The Problem with Labels

We live in a world obsessed with labels. We label our food, our clothes, our politics, and yes—our faith. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: slapping a “Christian” label on yourself doesn’t change what’s inside any more than labeling a box of brownie mix as macaroni and cheese changes its contents.

The term “Christian” appears only three times in the entire Bible—twice in Acts and once in Peter. And historically, it wasn’t even a term of endearment. In Roman society, it was actually a derogatory term, a slur hurled at those who dared to follow the radical teacher from Nazareth. Back then, calling yourself a Christian could cost you everything—your reputation, your livelihood, even your life.

Today? We wear crosses as jewelry and display them in our homes. We check “Christian” on surveys and put it in our social media bios. But what does it actually cost us?

The Invitation Jesus Actually Extended

When Jesus walked the dusty roads of Galilee, he didn’t invite people to adopt a religious label. His invitation was far more demanding—and far more beautiful.

Luke 9:23 captures it perfectly: “Then he said to them all, if anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me.”

Notice the key word: anyone. Not the rich, not the educated, not the religiously qualified. Anyone. Red, yellow, black, or white. The prostitutes, the tax collectors, the fishermen, the outcasts. Jesus’ invitation has always been radically inclusive.

But it comes with requirements that go far deeper than surface-level religion.

Three Requirements for Following Jesus

1. Deny Yourself

This is where it gets uncomfortable. Following Jesus means putting your desires, your plans, your preferences on the back burner. It means asking not “What do I want?” but “What does Jesus want?”

Consider alcohol as an example. While the Bible doesn’t forbid all consumption of alcohol, it does call us to deny ourselves if our freedom would cause someone else to stumble. In a culture where alcohol has destroyed families and taken lives, holding a beer while trying to share the gospel sends a confusing message. The question isn’t “Do I have the right?” but “What serves the greater purpose of sharing Christ?”

This principle extends to everything in our lives. Our entertainment choices, how we spend our money, the words we use, how we treat difficult people—it all falls under the umbrella of self-denial.

2. Take Up Your Cross Daily

Notice Jesus didn’t say “take up your cross once.” He said daily. This isn’t a one-time decision made at an altar or during a baptism. It’s a daily crucifixion of our flesh, a constant choice to die to ourselves so Christ can live through us.

The cross wasn’t a piece of jewelry in Jesus’ day. It was an instrument of execution, a symbol of shame and death. When Jesus tells us to take up our cross, he’s calling us to be willing to die—to our pride, our comfort, our reputation, our plans.

That’s hard. Let’s be honest about that. Being a follower of Christ is genuinely difficult. Anyone can be a “Christian” in name, but being a true follower requires daily sacrifice.

3. Follow Him

In the Jewish culture of Jesus’ time, when a rabbi chose students, those students would literally follow behind their teacher, stepping where he stepped, going where he went. They would get so close that the dust from the rabbi’s feet would cover them.

Following Jesus means the same thing. If Jesus ate with sinners, so should we. If Jesus showed compassion to the outcast, so should we. If Jesus spoke truth in love, so should we. If Jesus forgave the unforgivable, so should we.

The Greatest Witness

Here’s a beautiful truth: your life is a book, and people are reading it every day. The most powerful witness you’ll ever have isn’t a theological argument or a perfectly memorized gospel presentation. It’s your story—the transformation that Jesus has worked in your life.

When people see that God can save someone who struggled with addiction, who made terrible mistakes, who was broken and lost—that’s when they begin to believe He might save them too. Your mess becomes your message. Your test becomes your testimony.

What’s God’s Will for Your Life?

People often agonize over God’s will. Should I be a doctor? A teacher? A missionary? Here’s the simple answer: God’s will for your life after salvation is to share the gospel. The career path you choose is just the vehicle—the method doesn’t matter as much as the mission.

And sharing the gospel isn’t limited to verbal presentations. Sometimes the most powerful gospel witness is paying for someone’s meal, giving a bottle of water to a homeless person, or showing up consistently in someone’s life when everyone else has abandoned them.

Stop Voting, Start Praying

When we make decisions based on majority vote rather than unified prayer, we leave room for division. Unless it’s unanimous, someone didn’t get their way, and few people handle that gracefully. But when we deny ourselves, when we follow Jesus, when we die daily, we stop caring about getting our way and start caring about His way.

Imagine a church that operated purely on biblical principles, where every decision was bathed in prayer, where love trumped preference every single time. That’s the church Jesus envisioned.

Your Jerusalem Awaits

You don’t need to change the world. Jesus took twelve ordinary people and turned the world upside down, but they started in Jerusalem—their hometown. Your address is your mission field. The restaurant where you eat lunch, the grocery store where you shop, the neighborhood where you live—that’s where God has placed you.

Stop worrying about the whole world and focus on your circle. Show yourself friendly. Buy someone’s lunch. Strike up a conversation. Let people read the book of your life.

The Challenge

So here’s the question: Are you wearing a label, or are you following Jesus? Are you satisfied with fire insurance, or do you want transformation? Are you content being a fan, or are you ready to be a disciple?

The invitation stands today, just as it did two thousand years ago: “If anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me.”

Anyone means you.

The question is: will you accept?

When conversations about giving arise in the Church, they are often met with discomfort, suspicion, or defensiveness. Some immediately assume the issue is institutional—budgets, buildings, or salaries. But Scripture frames giving very differently. The lack of giving does not merely strain the Church’s ability to function; it quietly impoverishes the spiritual life of the follower of Jesus.

Biblically speaking, withholding generosity harms the giver just as much—if not more—than it harms the ministry.

Giving Was Never About Funding an Institution

From Genesis to Revelation, giving is presented as a spiritual discipline, not a fundraising strategy. God does not ask His people to give because He is lacking. He asks them to give because they are forming hearts.

Jesus consistently tied generosity to discipleship. In Matthew 6, He did not say if you give, but when you give. Giving was assumed as a normal expression of devotion, alongside prayer and fasting. It was never optional for those who claimed to follow Him.

When giving disappears from the life of a believer, something deeper is missing than money.

The Spiritual Cost of Not Giving

Jesus said plainly,
“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:21)

This means generosity is not just an outcome of spiritual maturity—it is a pathway to it. When believers stop giving, several things begin to happen internally:

1. Faith shrinks.
Giving requires trust. Withholding trains the heart to rely on self rather than God. Over time, fear replaces faith, and obedience becomes conditional.

2. Worship becomes theoretical.
Giving is one of the few acts of worship that tangibly costs us something. When worship no longer costs anything, it slowly loses its power to shape us.

3. Possessions gain authority.
Jesus warned that no one can serve both God and money. When giving stops, money often becomes the silent master—dictating decisions, priorities, and anxieties.

4. Discipleship stalls.
Spiritual growth rarely happens in comfort. Generosity stretches the soul. Without it, believers often plateau, wondering why their walk feels stagnant.

How the Church Is Also Affected

While the follower suffers spiritually, the Church suffers missionally.

The Church is not a business, but it is a body with practical responsibilities: caring for the poor, supporting ministry, discipling the next generation, sending missionaries, and creating spaces for worship and community. When giving declines, the Church is forced into survival mode rather than mission mode.

More troubling, however, is what often happens next:
Vision shrinks to match resources, rather than faith stretching to match the call of God.

When generosity dries up, ministry does not simply slow—it narrows. Outreach becomes limited. Support systems weaken. Opportunities to bless communities are missed, not because God stopped providing, but because His people stopped participating.

Giving Forms Us, Not God

The Apostle Paul captured this truth when he wrote:
“Not that I seek the gift, but I seek the fruit that increases to your credit.” (Philippians 4:17)

Paul understood that giving produces fruit in the life of the giver. It aligns the heart with the Kingdom of God. It loosens the grip of materialism. It reorients priorities around eternal impact rather than temporary comfort.

When believers withhold generosity, they are not protecting themselves—they are robbing themselves of spiritual formation.

A Call Back to Trust and Obedience

The issue of giving is not about pressure or guilt. It is about trust. God does not need our money, but He does desire our hearts fully surrendered to Him.

A follower of Jesus who does not give generously will often struggle with anxiety, control, and spiritual dryness. A church without generous believers will struggle to embody the love, reach, and compassion it proclaims.

Both are connected.

Restoration—in the Church and in the believer—will always require obedience, and generosity has always been part of that obedience.

The question is not whether the Church can survive without giving. The question is whether the follower of Jesus can truly flourish without it.

In recent years, the Church has watched a painful and repeating pattern unfold. Pastors and preachers are elevated onto ever-higher platforms—celebrated, amplified, protected, and sometimes untouchable. Then, when failures surfaces, the fall is devastating. Not only for the leader, but for families, congregations, and the credibility of the gospel itself.

This cycle should force us to ask a hard question: Have we confused platform with calling?

The Problem With Pedestals

The modern Church has become exceptionally good at building stages—literal and figurative. Charisma is rewarded. Gifted communicators are promoted quickly. Numbers, influence, and online reach often become the primary metrics of success. In the process, pastors are subtly elevated above the people they are called to serve.

Pedestals are dangerous places. They isolate leaders, discourage honest accountability, and create an environment where image matters more than integrity. When a leader is constantly affirmed for performance but rarely examined for character, blind spots grow. Sin thrives in secrecy, and secrecy thrives where leaders are protected rather than pastored.

When failure finally comes—and it almost always does—it comes with a great fall. The higher the platform, the more destructive the collapse.

Jesus’ Model Was the Exact Opposite

Jesus directly confronted this way of thinking. While the religious culture of His day elevated titles, status, and public recognition, Jesus redefined leadership altogether.

“The greatest among you will be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” (Matthew 23:11–12, CSB)

Jesus did not build His ministry by distancing Himself from people. He washed feet. He touched lepers. He welcomed children. He served those beneath Him in status and power—and then told His followers to do the same.

In one of the most striking moments of His ministry, Jesus told His disciples plainly:

“If anyone wants to be first, he must be last and servant of all.” (Mark 9:35, CSB)

This was not a metaphor. It was a mandate.

Servant Leadership Is Not a Buzzword

Servant leadership is often preached but rarely practiced. True servant leadership does not seek visibility. It embraces obscurity. It does not demand special treatment. It invites correction. It does not surround itself with “yes” people but with people who are willing to speak truth.

Jesus modeled leadership that flowed downward, not upward. Authority came from submission to the Father, not from public acclaim. Influence came from faithfulness, not branding.

When the Church replaces this posture with celebrity culture, it creates leaders who are skilled on stage but unsupported in private. Over time, pressure replaces prayer, performance replaces intimacy, and image replaces obedience.

The Tragic Pattern We Keep Seeing

We do not lack examples. Headlines continue to expose pastors involved in moral failure—sexual sin, financial misconduct, abuse of power, and deception. Each story follows a familiar script: rapid rise, minimal accountability, warning signs ignored, and eventual collapse.

These are not merely individual failures. They are systemic ones.

When churches elevate leaders without equally elevating accountability, when boards protect reputations instead of people, and when congregations confuse gifting with godliness, failure becomes not just possible—but predictable.

A Call Back to Biblical Leadership

The solution is not abandoning leadership. It is recovering biblical leadership.

Pastors are not called to be celebrities. They are called to be shepherds. Shepherds smell like sheep. They walk among the flock. They guard, guide, and serve—often unseen and uncelebrated.

The Church must stop asking, “How big is the platform?” and start asking, “How deep is the character?”

We must stop rewarding performance alone and start honoring faithfulness, humility, and repentance.

Most importantly, pastors must be allowed—and required—to live as servants first, leaders second.

The Way Forward

If the Church is to be restored, leadership must be restored to its proper place. Not above the people, but among them. Not insulated from accountability, but strengthened by it. Not driven by applause, but by obedience.

Jesus already showed us the way. The question is whether we are willing to follow it—even if it means stepping off the pedestal and picking up the towel.

Because in the Kingdom of God, the way up has always been down.

Today, the word Christian is everywhere.

On census forms.
In political debates.
On social media bios.
Even in casual conversation.

People proudly—or casually—identify as Christian, even if they never attend church, have never opened a Bible, and have never personally declared allegiance to Jesus Christ. For many, Christian has become a cultural label rather than a surrendered life.

But here is a truth many do not realize:

The term “Christian” did not originate as a badge of honor—and Jesus never called His followers by that name.

“Christian” Began as an Outsider’s Label

The word Christian appears only three times in the New Testament. Its first appearance tells us everything we need to know:

“And the disciples were called Christians first in Antioch.”
— Acts 11:26

Notice the wording carefully.

They were called Christians.
They did not call themselves Christians.

The term was coined by outsiders, likely as a label of mockery or distinction. In the Roman world, attaching “-ian” to a name meant belonging to or being identified with someone. To be called a Christian meant “those people who follow Christ.”

At the time, that was not a compliment.

It marked believers as strange, socially disruptive, and politically suspicious. To be identified with Christ was to be associated with persecution, loss, and sometimes death. The name “Christian” carried risk, not respect.

Over time, what was once an insult became embraced by the Church. But its original meaning reminds us that it was never meant to be a casual identity.

Jesus Never Said, “Call Yourselves Christians”

What makes this even more significant is that Jesus Himself never used the word Christian.

Not once.

Instead, Jesus consistently used a different word:

“Follow.”

“Follow me.”
“If anyone would come after me…”
“Take up your cross and follow me.”

Jesus did not invite people into a religion.
He invited them into discipleship.

He did not ask for verbal affiliation.
He demanded surrendered obedience.

To follow Jesus meant reordering your entire life—your values, priorities, relationships, and identity. Following was costly. Following was visible. Following required decision and devotion.

Christianity was never meant to be inherited, assumed, or assigned.

The Problem With Cultural Christianity

In today’s culture, Christian often means very little.

Many people claim the name without ever:

• Repenting of sin
• Confessing Jesus as Lord
• Being baptized
• Joining the body of believers
• Sitting under biblical teaching
• Living in obedience to Christ

Some have never personally declared faith in Jesus at all. They simply grew up around church, live in a Christian-influenced region, or agree with certain moral values.

But Jesus never recognized cultural proximity as faith.

He consistently drew a sharp line between those who followed Him and those who merely admired Him from a distance.

Calling yourself Christian does not make you a follower any more than owning a Bible makes you surrendered.

Following Is Personal, Costly, and Visible

Jesus’ call was always personal.

Not “your parents followed Me.”
Not “your culture believes in Me.”
Not “you agree with Me.”

But you—follow Me.

Following Jesus requires a personal declaration. A personal repentance. A personal submission to His authority.

It also produces visible fruit.

Followers of Jesus gather with His people.
They submit to His Word.
They pursue holiness.
They grow in obedience.
They live transformed lives over time.

This does not mean perfection—but it does mean direction.

Reclaiming the Weight of the Name

There is nothing wrong with the word Christian.

The problem is how lightly it is worn.

When everyone claims the label, the meaning becomes diluted. When discipleship is replaced with declaration, faith becomes shallow. When identity is assumed rather than surrendered, transformation stalls.

Jesus is not looking for people who wear His name.
He is looking for people who walk in His ways.

A Call Back to True Following

The question is no longer, “Do you call yourself a Christian?”

The better question is:

Are you actually following Jesus?

Not culturally.
Not casually.
Not selectively.

But fully.

Because in the end, Jesus did not say, “Well done, good and faithful Christian.”

He said:

“Follow me.”

And He still does.

Why Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Pastors, and Teachers Still Matter Today

In Part One, we established that the gifts of the Holy Spirit have not ceased and that Scripture never assigns an expiration date to God’s supernatural empowerment of the Church. That conclusion leads naturally to a second, unavoidable question:

If the Spirit’s gifts are still active, what about the ministries Christ gave to steward and equip the Church?

The answer is found plainly—and decisively—in Ephesians 4.

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Christ Gave the Fivefold—Not the Church

Ephesians 4:11 begins with a critical truth that is often overlooked:

“And He gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers.”

The fivefold ministry is not a human invention.
It is not a church-growth model.
It is not a denominational structure.

It is a gift from the risen Christ.

To reject or redefine what Christ gave is not discernment—it is presumption.

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The Purpose: Equipping, Not Exalting

Paul immediately defines the function of these ministries:

“For the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ.”

Fivefold ministry exists to equip believers, not to elevate leaders.
It is about function, not hierarchy.
Calling, not control.

When fivefold ministry becomes about titles, power, or personal platforms, it has already drifted from its biblical purpose. But abuse does not negate design.

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The Word That Settles the Debate: “Until”

Ephesians 4:13 contains the most decisive word in the entire discussion:

“Till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.”

The ministries of Ephesians 4 are given until three conditions are met:

1. Full unity of the faith
2. Full knowledge of the Son of God
3. Full maturity reflecting Christ’s fullness

No honest reading of Church history—or the present Church—can claim these conditions have been fulfilled.

If the “until” remains unmet, the ministries remain in effect.

To argue otherwise is to claim the Church has already arrived at full maturity—something even the most optimistic theologian would not assert.

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Foundational Apostles vs. Ongoing Apostolic Ministry

One common objection is that apostles and prophets were “foundational” and therefore temporary. Scripture does affirm a foundational role—but it does not eliminate ongoing function.

The apostles who authored Scripture were unique and unrepeatable. That foundation is complete.

However, apostolic ministry—the function of being sent, establishing, governing, and strengthening churches—continues throughout the New Testament beyond the Twelve.

Paul uses the term apostle more broadly than a closed historical group. The same is true of prophets, whose role involves edification, exhortation, and comfort—not adding Scripture.

Foundation does not mean disappearance.
It means stability for what continues to be built.

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Prophets Do Not Threaten Scripture

Another frequent concern is that prophetic ministry undermines biblical authority. Scripture itself addresses this fear by regulating prophecy rather than eliminating it.

Prophecy is to be:

• Tested
• Judged
• Submitted to Scripture

New Testament prophecy does not introduce new doctrine. It applies eternal truth to present circumstances.

The moment prophecy claims equal authority with Scripture, it ceases to be biblical prophecy. But Scripture never concludes that misuse requires removal—only correction.

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What Happens When the Fivefold Is Removed

When the Church operates with only pastors and teachers, imbalance is inevitable.

Without apostles, churches lose vision, mission, and structural clarity.
Without prophets, churches lose conviction, holiness, and spiritual sensitivity.
Without evangelists, churches lose urgency for the lost.
Without pastors, people are wounded and scattered.
Without teachers, truth erodes.

The result is a Church that is:

• Educated but unequipped
• Gathered but stagnant
• Informed but immature

Fivefold ministry is not about preference—it is about completeness.

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Fivefold Ministry and Restoration

A restoration-minded Church does not ask, “What can we safely remove?”
It asks, “What has Christ already given that we must faithfully steward?”

Fivefold ministry restores:

• Balance instead of extremes
• Maturity instead of dependency
• Mission instead of maintenance

The goal is not charismatic chaos or institutional rigidity, but a Spirit-empowered, Word-governed, Christ-centered Church.

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Until He Returns

The Church is still growing.
The Church is still maturing.
The Church is still being built.

Therefore, the tools Christ gave for that work are still necessary.

Apostles still equip.
Prophets still awaken.
Evangelists still gather.
Pastors still shepherd.
Teachers still ground.

Until we reach the fullness of Christ, we need everything Christ has given.

There’s a powerful scene in the movie Shawshank Redemption that captures something profound about the human condition. An elderly librarian, imprisoned for fifty years, finally receives parole. Free at last, he moves into a small apartment—his own space, his own life. Yet night after night, he sleeps on the floor. The bed feels too exposed, too vulnerable. For half a century, the floor meant safety, a place to hide beneath the bed when danger came. Now, in freedom, he remains imprisoned by the habits of captivity.

This image reflects a spiritual reality many believers face today. Though Christ has set us free, we continue living as slaves. We carry chains that have already been unlocked. We sleep on the floor when a bed has been prepared for us.

The Spirit We’ve Received

Romans 8:12-17 presents a startling truth: “You did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear. Instead, you received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father.'”

The distinction is critical. Before knowing Christ, we were slaves—bound by sin, controlled by shame, captive to our past. But salvation changes everything. We don’t merely receive forgiveness; we receive adoption. We become sons and daughters of the King.

Yet many believers never begin to live this out. They remain stuck in shame, viewing God through the lens of their failures rather than through the lens of His grace. When asked whether God tolerates them or delights in them, they hesitate. Deep down, they believe God merely puts up with them—that He’s obligated to accept them but doesn’t truly rejoice over them.

This couldn’t be further from the truth.

The Difference Between Tolerance and Delight

Consider the difference between how you relate to your own children versus other people’s children. You might tolerate twenty neighborhood kids running through your house on a Saturday afternoon. You’ll feed them, supervise them, even correct them when necessary. But your own children? You delight in them. They’re yours. Their presence brings joy, not mere obligation.

God made a way for you to become His child—not through anything you did, but through what Christ accomplished. When you accepted that gift, you became His son or daughter. Why would He suddenly shift to merely tolerating you when you stumble? The belief that He does reveals we’re still living in shame rather than sonship.

The Flesh vs. The Spirit

Romans 8:13 reminds us: “If you live according to the flesh, you are going to die. But if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.”

We have power over our flesh through the Holy Spirit. This power wasn’t reserved only for the early church—it’s available to every believer today. Yet most of us simply surrender when our flesh starts demanding attention. We assume that because we’re “in the flesh,” we must live “according to the flesh.”

But that’s not what Scripture teaches. We’re called to be different. When the Holy Spirit moves in, something else must move out. Genuine salvation produces genuine transformation.

Peter’s story illustrates this beautifully. In the garden, he lived according to the flesh—drawing his sword and cutting off a man’s ear. In the courtyard, fear controlled him—he denied Christ three times, even cursing to prove his point. Peter forgot he was a son and lived in shame.

But then came Pentecost. Peter stood on the temple steps, surrounded by Roman guards and the very religious leaders who had orchestrated Jesus’ crucifixion. His flesh surely screamed at him to shut up and hide. Yet Peter preached boldly, calling them to account. The flesh didn’t win that day. The Spirit did.

The Power of Secrets

The enemy’s most effective weapon isn’t making you sin—he can’t force you to do anything. His power lies in keeping you silent about your sin. Shame thrives in secrecy. When you hide something, the devil exploits it, whispering threats: “What if they found out? What if she knew? Your ministry would be over. Your reputation would be destroyed.”

These whispers keep believers paralyzed, living as slaves rather than sons. And here’s the tragic irony: God already knows what you did. He’s simply waiting for you to admit it, to bring it into the light where shame loses its power.

Confession isn’t about informing God of something He doesn’t know. It’s about agreeing with Him about what He already sees and receiving the forgiveness He’s already extended. It’s about moving from hiding to healing, from captivity to freedom.

Your Father Is Waiting

The parable of the prodigal son captures the Father’s heart perfectly. When the wayward son returned home, broken and ashamed, ready to beg for a servant’s position, the father didn’t lecture him. He didn’t make him earn his way back. He ran to him, embraced him, placed a ring on his finger, a robe on his shoulders, sandals on his feet, and threw a party.

Why? Because he was his son.

The Bible tells us there’s rejoicing in heaven when one person comes home—not just among the angels, but in the presence of God Himself. The Father throws the party. He celebrates because His child has returned.

You don’t have to knock and wait for permission to enter. You’re not a guest or a servant. You’re family. Children don’t ask permission—they burst through the door and run to their father.

Living as Heirs

Romans 8:17 declares: “And if children, also heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ.”

Co-heirs with Christ. Let that sink in. Everything that belongs to the Son belongs to you. The same Spirit that empowered Jesus to perform miracles dwells in you. He said His followers would do the works He did—and even greater works.

So why do we live like powerless slaves? Why do we seek everyone’s approval when we’ve already been approved by the King? Why do we fight as if we’re trying to earn something we’ve already received?

You’re not fighting for victory—you’re fighting from victory to victory. You’re not trying to become God’s child; you already are His child. Your ticket to heaven is already punched. Now it’s time to live like it.

Your Book Is Being Written

God is writing a book with your life. Every chapter—even the difficult, shameful ones—serves His purpose. Romans 8:28 promises that He works all things together for good. Not some things. All things.

If you’re unwilling to let others read your book, you’re still living in shame. This doesn’t mean glorifying your past sins, but it does mean recognizing that the hero showed up in your story. Christ entered your narrative and changed everything. The chapters He’s writing now exist because of what happened in earlier chapters.

Your story has power—power to encourage, to inspire, to point others toward the same Savior who rescued you.

The Choice Before You

You can choose to live in sonship or remain in shame. You can embrace your identity as God’s beloved child or continue dragging around chains that have already been unlocked.

The declaration is simple but profound: I am no longer a slave to fear. I have received the Spirit of adoption. I belong to God as His child. I will live from sonship, not shame.

The bed is ready. It’s time to stop sleeping on the floor.

Why Cessationism Fails Beyond the Tongues Debate

In a previous post, we discussed the biblical case for tongues as an ongoing gift of the Holy Spirit. That discussion was necessary because tongues are often the first—and loudest—point of contention in conversations about cessationism. Instead of re-arguing that here, this post focuses on the larger theological claim behind cessationism: the idea that any supernatural gifts of the Spirit were temporary and are no longer active in the Church today.

The issue before us isn’t whether abuses have taken place. They have. The issue isn’t whether discernment is necessary. It is.
The true question is this: Does Scripture teach that the gifts of the Spirit have ceased?

The answer, when Scripture is allowed to speak for itself, is no.

Cessationism: A Conclusion Scripture Never States

Cessationism holds that gifts like prophecy, healing, miracles, discernment, and tongues were limited to the apostolic era and were withdrawn after the New Testament was finished or when the apostles died.

The problem is straightforward: the Bible never teaches this.

There is no verse stating that the gifts would cease with the closing of the canon.
There is no passage linking the activity of the Spirit to the lifespan of the apostles.
There is no instruction telling the Church to expect a future without supernatural empowerment.

Cessationism is not a biblical doctrine—it is a theological conclusion imposed on the text.

“When the Perfect Comes” — A Brief but Necessary Clarification

Cessationists often cite 1 Corinthians 13, arguing that spiritual gifts would end “when the perfect comes.” However, Paul clearly defines “the perfect” with unmistakable clarity.

• We will see face to face
• We will know fully, even as we are fully known

That is not a description of the New Testament canon.
It is a description of the return of Christ.

Until believers see Christ face to face, the condition for the cessation of gifts has not been fulfilled. Paul’s contrast is not between partial Scripture and complete Scripture but between life now and glory then.

If we are still living by faith and not by sight, the gifts remain necessary.

The Gifts Were Taught as Normal Church Life

One of the strongest arguments against cessationism is found not in a single verse, but in the assumptions of the New Testament letters themselves.

Paul writes to ordinary churches and instructs them to:

• Earnestly desire spiritual gifts
• Not despise prophecy
• Test prophetic words
• Lay hands on the sick
• Walk in discernment
• Allow the Spirit to distribute gifts as He wills

These instructions are not framed as temporary measures. They are presented as ongoing aspects of Christian community life.

Importantly, Paul does not eliminate gifts when problems occur—he corrects their misuse. Correction assumes ongoing use. Regulation assumes inherent value. You do not regulate what God intends to remove.

The Promise of the Spirit Is Generational

At Pentecost, Peter describes the outpouring of the Spirit by quoting the prophet Joel. He then makes a key statement:

“The promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far off—as many as the Lord our God will call.”

The promise of the Spirit was never limited to one generation. It was explicitly extended to future believers, connected to God’s ongoing call.

As long as God is still saving people, the promise remains in force.

Scripture and the Spirit Are Not in Competition

A key concern of cessationism is the fear that spiritual gifts challenge the authority of Scripture. While this concern is understandable, it is based on a false assumption.

The Bible never presents the Word and the Spirit as rivals.

The Spirit inspired Scripture.
The Spirit illuminates Scripture.
The Spirit empowers believers to live out Scripture.

Spiritual gifts do not add to doctrine. They do not alter the truth. Instead, they support the Word by expressing it with power, conviction, and clarity. Scripture guides the gifts—but it never replaces the Spirit.

The answer to abuse is not denial. It is biblical alignment.

The Cost of Denying the Spirit’s Work

When the Church functionally denies the ongoing work of the Spirit, the results are predictable:

• Orthodoxy without power
• Knowledge without transformation
• Structure without life
• Faith reduced to information rather than encounter

Scripture warns of a form of godliness that denies its power. The issue is not emotionalism versus intellect; it is obedience versus control.

The early Church did not expand only by well-crafted arguments. It expanded through truth preached and power shown.

A Necessary Transition

If the gifts of the Spirit have not ceased, then an unavoidable question follows:

What about the ministries Christ Himself gave to equip and mature the Church?

That question points straight to Ephesians 4—and to the ongoing importance of apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers.

That discussion belongs in Part Two.

Until then, this much is clear:
The Spirit has not withdrawn.
The gifts have not expired.
And the Church was never meant to operate on yesterday’s power.