James 1:22 - More Than Listeners

 James 1:22
“Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.”

Wasting no time, James gets straight to the point in one sentence. He exposes a great, but quiet danger in our spiritual lives:  confusing hearing God’s Word with obeying it. 

Many of us are excellent listeners. We are consistent at attending worship. We regularly read Scripture, and recognize many familiar passages. Some of us have favorite Bible-related podcasts and programs we listen to often. But James warns that it is possible to do all of that and still deceive ourselves.

Now, that word, “deceive”, is important. Self-deception usually feels like confidence, and it can convince us we’re doing well spiritually simply because—well, after all—we are informed. But knowledge alone does not equal faithfulness. Jesus, Himself, asked the same hard question in Luke 6:46: “Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?” Having the knowledge of some respectful words, and even having some religious habits, mean little if they are not followed by obedience.

James compares God’s Word to a mirror (James 1:23). A mirror shows us the truth about ourselves, but it cannot fix anything. Looking into a mirror and walking away unchanged is pointless—and yet that is exactly what happens when we hear Scripture, recognize its truth, and then do nothing. Hebrews 4:12 reminds us that God’s Word is living and active, meant to search the heart and move us toward change, not mere agreement.

Right after washing His disciple’s feet, Jesus emphasized this same truth. He said, “Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.” (John 13:17). Notice—the blessing is not in knowing what is right, but in living it out. Obedience is where faith becomes real.

James is not calling for perfection, but sincerity. We may not understand everything in Scripture, but we can always obey what we do understand. Faith grows through small, daily acts of obedience—choosing honesty, forgiving when it’s hard, controlling our words, trusting God when circumstances are unclear.

Obedience is not about earning God’s love. Jesus said, “If you love me, keep my commands.” (John 14:15). Obedience flows from love, trust, and gratitude—not fear.

James 1:22 leaves us with a simple but challenging question:  What am I doing with what I already know? Not what I plan to do someday—but how I am responding now. A faith that listens and obeys becomes steady, resilient, and genuine. That is the kind of faith James calls us to live—and the kind of faith that truly listens.

Matthew 16:24-26 - Counting the Cost of Following Jesus

 Matthew 16:24-26
“If anyone wants to come after Me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for Me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?”

At first glance, these words sound simple. But if you’ve ever tried to live them, you know they are anything but easy. They are beautifully clear, and wonderfully uncomfortable at the same time.

Take a minute and seriously look at what Jesus says:

“Deny yourself.” He’s telling us that following Him doesn’t work if our first priority is our own comfort, convenience, or ego. Discipleship starts with humility and surrender, not self-centered planning.

“Take up your cross.” Following Jesus will cost something. It may cost you comfort, time, approval, or even reputation. The path of faith isn’t paved with guarantees—it’s only paved with trust.

“Follow Me.” He didn’t say just sometimes. Or just when it’s convenient. He asks that you are all in! Following in every part of your life matters.

And here’s the part that really flips our expectation on its head:  Jesus says if we try to save our own lives—if we live only for comfort, security, or success—we are going to lose them. But if we surrender our lives for Him, we truly find them. The logic is upside-down from what the world is giving out:  what seems like “loss” is actually gain, and what seems like “saving” is actually destruction.

And–let’s be honest about it:  that is not an easy thing to read. Most, if not all of us, want to hold onto what we have. We like to protect our comfort, control our schedules, and preserve our plans. And many of us try to do both—follow Jesus, while at the same time keeping our own priorities firmly in place. But here is a spoiler alert:  it doesn’t work that way. You can’t serve two masters.

But there’s good news in all of this:  following Jesus is worth it. The world promises success, comfort, and fleeting pleasures, but only Jesus gives life that is deep, meaningful, and eternal. It doesn’t mean life will always be easy. But it does mean it will be real. It will be full. It will matter — forever.

So the real question isn’t, “Can I squeeze Jesus into my life?” It’s, “Am I living for Him, or am I living for myself?”

Because when we put Jesus first, everything changes. Our relationships become richer, our work becomes more purposeful, and even the struggles of life gain meaning. When we lose our lives for Christ, we discover life in the truest, deepest sense.

The choice Jesus lays before us is simple—but not easy:  deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him. It costs something. But the reward is everything. Eternal life. True joy. Peace that doesn’t depend on circumstances. A purpose that reaches far beyond what we could ever accomplish on our own.

So the question remains:  Are we willing to let go of the things that weigh us down? Are we willing to surrender what the world says is important for what God says is eternal?

Because following Christ isn’t about comfort. It isn’t about avoiding trouble. It’s about gaining something infinitely more valuable—life itself, found only in Him.

Thirty Pieces of Silver

Zechariah 11:12

“I told them, ‘If you think it best, give me my pay; but if not, keep it.’  So they paid me thirty pieces of silver.”

Some numbers in the Bible feel meaningful right away. Seven shows up everywhere. Twelve feels important. Forty usually means someone is about to have a long, uncomfortable season.

But thirty pieces of silver? That one just feels… well, uncomfortable.

In Zechariah 11, the prophet acts out the role of a shepherd who has done his job faithfully—only to be rejected by the very people he cared for. When he finally asks for his wages, they count out thirty pieces of silver. God’s response (Zechariah 11:13) is almost painfully sarcastic:  “And the Lord said to me, ‘Throw it to the potter’—the handsome price at which they valued me! So I took the thirty pieces of silver and threw them to the potter at the house of the Lord.”

Translation:  “So that’s what you think I’m worth.”

If you are familiar with the Law, you might have caught the insult. Thirty shekels was the price of a slave (Exodus 21:32). 

It wasn’t generous. It wasn’t thoughtful. It was the bare minimum. It’s what you paid when a life didn’t seem to count for much.

And if we’re honest, that sounds uncomfortably familiar.

Now fast-forward to the New Testament, and Zechariah’s words show up again. Judas goes to the chief priests and asks a question that still stings:  “What are you willing to give me if I deliver him over to you?” (Matthew 26:14). Their answer?  — Thirty pieces of silver. 

No bargaining. No awkward pause. The Son of God is priced at the same level as a slave.

That’s hard to read without wincing.

But Scripture isn’t finished with those thirty coins yet. In Hosea 3, the prophet buys back his unfaithful wife, Gomer, for what amounts to—you guessed it—about thirty shekels. Though his payment is a combination of money and grain—its the same price. But—it’s a completely different heart.

One transaction sells out the innocent. The other redeems the guilty.

That contrast says a lot about us—and even more about God.

Because if we’re being honest, we still find a form of Judas’s question creeping into our own thinking. What will this cost me (us)? Is this worth the effort? How much obedience is reasonable here? It turns out we’re pretty good at doing quiet math when faith gets inconvenient.

Thirty pieces of silver forces us to face an uncomfortable truth:  left to ourselves, we often value Christ far too cheaply. But God never returns that favor. He doesn’t negotiate our worth. He doesn’t try to get a lower price. He pays the price in full—and then gives more than we ever deserved.

And that fact should change how we live—how we love—and how we decide what truly matters.

1 John 1:1 - Eyewitnesses: Seeing Is Believing

1 John 1:1

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life.

Imagine watching a documentary and hearing the story told not by a narrator, but by someone who was actually there—who felt the fear, the excitement, the heartbreak firsthand. That’s what makes Ken Burns’ documentaries so compelling. He uses letters, journals, and personal memories to make history real. 

The writers of the New Testament did the same thing. They didn’t just write stories about Jesus—they shared what they personally saw, heard, and even touched.

John explains this clearly in 1 John 1:1: “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled…”

He even stacks the verbs here to make a point:  this isn’t secondhand gossip—it’s eyewitness testimony. John walked with Jesus, witnessed His miracles, and even touched the risen Christ. 

Eyewitness accounts like his are invaluable. They provide reliability, so we aren’t left guessing if these events actually happened. They also humanize the story, helping us imagine what it was like to be there in those life-changing moments.

Eyewitness testimony is essential in history. Without it, stories can be exaggerated, forgotten, or distorted. The New Testament preserves these firsthand experiences, giving us confidence that Christianity isn’t built on rumor or legend—it’s built on real events, observed and recorded by people who lived them.

In short, John’s words remind us:  the gospel is grounded in truth. We can trust it, not just because it inspires, but because it was seen, heard, and handled by those who were there.

Acts 2: 47 - What God Wants - Not What I Prefer

Acts 2:47

And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

In a world where nearly everything revolves around personal preference, it feels natural to approach church the same way we approach restaurants, stores, or entertainment. We form a list of what we want:  good music, friendly people, engaging preaching, strong programs, or convenience. None of those things are bad in themselves — yet when they become the basis for choosing a church, we may be thinking more like consumers than disciples.

The Bible makes something abundantly clear:  God has always cared about how His people worship Him. The Old Testament repeatedly records Israel’s struggle not with abandoning worship, but with reshaping worship according to their own desires. During the time of Hosea, God used shocking language to describe their unfaithfulness — Israel had become like an unfaithful spouse chasing other lovers. They claimed to belong to God, but their actions revealed that their own preferences meant more to them than God’s instructions.

That picture is uncomfortable because it moves worship out of the realm of personal taste and places it in the realm of obedience. The real question for Christians today is not, “What do I want in a church?” but “What does God want in His church?” These two questions do not always lead to the same destination.

Modern religious culture tells us to “pick the church that fits you.” Scripture, however, paints an entirely different picture. The church is not a brand, not a denomination, and not a group of people who simply decided to follow Jesus. According to Acts 2:47, “...the Lord added to the church those who were being saved.” That means the church is not a human creation — it is God’s creation. He adds the saved to it. He determines its design, its doctrine, its worship, and its purpose. We do not join the church of our choice; God adds the obedient to the church He built.

Because of that, how we respond to God’s instructions matters deeply. We do not have the right to alter God’s plan simply because we do not agree with it or because another version feels more comfortable. The call of Christianity is not self-expression — it is self-denial. Jesus said, “If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me” (Matthew 16:24). Following Jesus means learning to want what God wants, even when it challenges us.

The church, according to Scripture, is not a place to be entertained — it is a family, a body, and a fellowship. Families do not function based on personal preference; they function based on commitment. In the same way, the church thrives not when everyone demands their own way, but when everyone seeks God’s way together. Our goal is not to find a church that pleases us, but to become a church that pleases God.

The heart of the matter is simple:  one day we will not stand before God and be asked whether we attended a church that matched our tastes. We will be asked whether we loved Him enough to obey Him — even when our preferences pushed in a different direction. The consumer mindset is temporary; the kingdom mindset is eternal. And the blessing is that when we pursue what God wants, we discover something better than convenience, comfort, or personal preference — we discover truth, unity, belonging, and salvation.

May we be humble enough and courageous enough to say, “I don’t want a church built around my desires. I want the church built around what God desires.”

If our hearts adopt that commitment, and we live by it, God will not only add us to His church — He will someday welcome us into His eternal kingdom.

Matthew 22:34-40 - The Greatest Commandments

Matthew 22:34-40
34 Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. 35 One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: 36 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”
37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

When the Pharisees gathered around Jesus in Matthew 22:34–40, one of them—a lawyer—asked, “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?” His question was an innocent question. He and they others were testing Jesus, hoping to trap Him with His own words. But Jesus’ answer didn’t just silence their debate—it cut straight to the heart of what it means to follow God.

Jesus simply replied, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

In just a few short sentences, Jesus had summarized the entire Old Testament. Everything God had ever commanded— every rule, every principle, every prophet’s message—was rooted in these two simple truths:  love God completely, and love others sincerely.

Jesus placed the love of God first for a reason. Before we can love anyone else rightly, we must love God fully. Loving God “with all your heart, soul, and mind” means giving Him first place in every part of life—our emotions, our choices, our thoughts. It’s not a partial or convenient love. It’s wholehearted devotion.

When we love God this way, obedience stops being a chore and becomes a joy. As Jesus said, “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments” (John 14:15). Genuine love for God changes how we worship, how we spend our time, and how we treat other people.

Then Jesus added, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Real love for God overflows into love for others. John wrote, “He who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen” (1 John 4:20).

This love isn’t about convenience or preference—it’s about compassion, humility, and service. It’s the kind of love that forgives, helps, and gives even when it’s hard–especially when it’s hard! Jesus modeled that perfectly for us, laying down His life not just for His friends, but for sinners (Romans 5:8).

If we can understand these two commandments, everything else will fall into place. These commands guide our relationships, our worship, our priorities, and our purpose. The Christian life isn’t just a checklist—in a sense, it’s a love story:  God loved us first, and our lives are meant to reflect that love back to Him and to others around us.

In a world filled with complexity and distraction, Jesus brings us back to the center:  Love God. Love people. If we can do those two things faithfully, we will fulfill everything God ever asked of His people.

Acts 9:1-4 - What Paul Saw on the Road

Acts 9:1-4

Meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples. He went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any there who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem. As he neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

One of the stories that always amazes me in Scripture is Paul’s conversion. Paul was then known as Saul of Tarsus, the man who once hated Christians. He was stopped in his tracks by the risen Christ on the road to Damascus. In that blinding light, his physical eyes were closed, but his spiritual eyes were opened. What Paul came to see in those days of blindness can still teach us something about following Jesus today.

The first thing Paul realized was that he was a sinner. That’s never easy to admit. Paul had always thought of himself as a righteous Pharisee, doing the will of God. But now he could no longer hide behind his religion or his good deeds. He realized had been fighting against the very Son of God. That’s a humbling moment we all need—to stop pretending we are better than we are and honestly admit, “I have sinned.”

Paul also saw that the religion of his fathers couldn’t save him. Tradition is powerful. Many of us grew up with faith passed down from our parents or grandparents, and that’s a blessing. But we don’t inherit faith like eye color. Each of us must come to Christ personally and develop our own obedient faith. Paul had to realize that his upbringing and heritage, as valuable as they were, weren’t enough without obedience to Jesus.

Another lesson Paul learned is that his conscience wasn’t always reliable. He had always followed his conscience, even when persecuting Christians—but he was still wrong. That’s sobering, isn’t it? Sometimes people say, “Just follow your heart,” but Paul’s story warns us that our hearts can mislead us. Our conscience needs to be shaped and corrected by God’s Word, or it will never point us in the right direction.

Paul also discovered that prayer, as important as it is, could not wash away his sins. He had spent three days praying and fasting, but it wasn’t until he obeyed the command to be baptized that his sins were forgiven (Acts 22:16). Prayer is a gift for God’s children, but for Paul (and actually even for us), forgiveness only came through obedience.

And perhaps most encouraging of all, Paul saw that it was no disgrace to change. He had been wrong—terribly wrong—but instead of clinging to pride, he humbled himself and allowed God to transform him. The man who once tried to destroy the church became one of its greatest servants. That’s what grace does—it changes us from the inside out.

Paul’s story reminds me that it’s never too late to admit we’re wrong, never too late to repent, never too late to obey Jesus. On the road to Damascus, Paul lost his sight, but he gained his vision. And maybe that’s what we need too—not just to see the world with physical eyes, but to see our lives clearly through the eyes of Christ.

Ephesians 5:19 - Singing: Worship God in His Way

Ephesians 5:19

“Speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.”

When you think about worship, what comes to mind? A choir, an organ, a guitar? Or the simple voices of Christians singing together? The real question isn’t, “What do I like?” but “What does God want?”

Paul answers in Ephesians 5:19:  “Speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.”

Notice he doesn’t say “play” or “strum.” He says “sing.” The Greek word (ado) means to sing with the voice. When God wanted instruments in Old Testament worship, He commanded them (2 Chron. 29:25). In the New Testament, He commanded singing. Paul makes the “instrument” clear:  the heart.

This shows us worship isn’t about what pleases us, but what honors God. If Noah had used cedar instead of gopher wood, would God have been pleased? No—because God had specified. In the same way, when God specifies singing, adding instruments changes what He asked for.

Jesus said, “God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:24). Worship in truth means worship on His terms.

History agrees. For centuries, Christians sang without instruments. Clement of Alexandria warned they belonged to pagan feasts, not the church. Augustine said the true instrument is the heart. Even the word a cappella means “in the style of the church.”

So why does it matter? Because worship is a gift for God. If your spouse asks for something simple and heartfelt, but you give something flashy instead, who are you really thinking about—you or them? The question in worship isn’t, “Do I like it?” but “Does God want it?”

Ephesians 5:19 makes it clear:  God wants His people to sing, making melody in their hearts. This is worship that is simple, spiritual, and centered on Him. When we lift our voices this way, we offer the kind of praise the apostles knew, the early church practiced, and God still desires.

So, the next time you sing, remember—you’re holding the only instrument God ever asked for:  the heart. Play it well, and He will be pleased.

Philippians 3:13-14 - Pressing Onward

Philippians 3:13-14

“Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

As I’ve gotten older, I sometimes feel like my most productive days are behind me. Maybe you’ve wondered the same about yourself. Yet the Bible reminds me that my journey of faith is a marathon, not a sprint. It doesn’t end until I step into eternity with Christ. Am I still reaching forward, or have I slowed my pace?

Like many older Christians, I sometimes feel the pull to slow down—physically and spiritually. But if I’m still breathing, God still has work for me. His purpose for my life doesn’t expire with age. Retirement in the world may mean stepping back, but in God’s kingdom, there’s no such thing as spiritual retirement. Caleb, at 85, declared in Joshua 14:10-12, “Now therefore, give me this mountain… As yet I am as strong this day as on the day that Moses sent me.” I may not have Caleb physical strength, but I can trust God to fulfill His promises, no matter my age.

The wisdom I have gathered is invaluable. Titus 2:3-5 calls older believers to mentor others, and Psalm 92:12-14 promises that the righteous will remain fruitful in every season. Whether through prayer, encouragement, or service, my contributions matter.

Though my physical energy may fade, God provides the strength to press forward. My limitations become opportunities for His power to shine. Isaiah 40:29-31 promises that “those who wait on the Lord… shall run and not be weary.” Trusting in God renews my strength to continue the journey.

My fellow believers are another source of strength. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 reminds me of the value of companionship: “Two are better than one… For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.” Staying connected with the body of Christ provides encouragement and shared strength.

Finally, God’s Word is a powerful source of endurance. Spending time in Scripture equips me for life’s challenges and reminds me of His promises. Philippians 4:13 encourages me: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” I will draw strength daily from God, His Word, and His people.

The impact I leave on others extends beyond what I can see. Leaving a legacy of faith means sharing God’s love and truth with future generations. Psalm 145:4 says, “One generation shall praise Your works to another.” When I share how God has worked in my life, I encourage others to trust in His faithfulness.

Investing in the next generation is vital. Whether through teaching, mentoring, or simple acts of love, my influence can inspire faith in those who come after me.

God calls me to press onward, no matter my age. I will let His strength sustain me, His purpose drive me, and His promises renew me. So I take a deep breath—my journey isn’t over—and the eternal prize awaits.