Life's Inanities and Ironies

 Brethren, the more we gaze upon these Separatist saints, the more we see the Word of God leaping off the page into real history. Their story is not merely “inspiring”—it is a divine typology. God wrote their voyage into the margins of our Bibles as a fresh exhibition of ancient truths. Here are more unbreakable parallels that ought to make every Bible-believing Christian fall on his face in wonder. 6. They were Abrahams, obeying the call to leave kin and country for a land they had never seen.    “By faith Abraham, when he was called to go out into a place which he should after receive for an inheritance, obeyed; and he went out, not knowing whither he went” (Heb. 11:8).      These Pilgrims forsook houses, lands, fathers, mothers, and the graves of their ancestors because Christ was more precious to them than England itself. They did not wait for a comfortable retirement package. They stepped onto the Mayflower with nothing but the promises of God in ...

 Brethren, when we speak of the Pilgrims , let us strip away the schoolhouse myths , the cartoons with buckles on hats , and the secularized fairy tale of “ friendship with Indians .” Those things happened, but they are not WHY the Pilgrims matter to blood-bought, Bible-believing Christians in 2025. The Pilgrims mattered because they were unashamed, uncompromising, separatist, Bible-saturated saints who counted everything rubbish for the excellency of knowing Christ Jesus their Lord. They were closer to us than most modern evangelicals will ever be. Consider who they really were. 1. They were biblical separatists — not “ tolerant reformers .”       They saw the Church of England as a false church, steeped in Roman Catholic remnants , ruled by a king who called himself head of the church instead of Christ. They believed the Scripture taught that a true church was a gathered company of visible saints , baptized upon profession of faith, walking in covenant tog...

In the blackest midnight of Judah’s story—when the temple lay in ashes, when mothers ate their own children in the siege, when Jeremiah sat weeping on the ruins with a heart shattered into a thousand altars—God did something utterly outrageous. He made a promise that still sets the heavens ringing. Not a patch.   Not a reform.   Not a stricter law with better enforcement. A **new** covenant. Jeremiah 31:31–34 (the verses that burned through the prophet’s tears like dawn through prison bars): > “Behold, the days come, saith the LORD,   > that I will make a **new covenant**   > with the house of Israel , and with the house of Judah:   > Not according to the covenant that I made with their fathers   > in the day that I took them by the hand   > to bring them out of the land of Egypt ;   > which my covenant they brake,   > although I was an husband unto them, saith the LORD:...

He stands alone on the scorched hills above Jerusalem , cloak torn by thorns and kings alike, eyes already red from forty years of unshed tears. The city beneath him is a smoking skeleton—golden temple melted into slag, walls breached like a shattered ribcage, the air thick with the stench of burning cedar and unburied dead. And Jeremiah weeps. Not the polite glistening of a funeral. Not the dignified single tear of a priest. He weeps like a man whose very bones have turned to salt water. “Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain daughter of my people!” He means it literally. He wants to bleed tears until the valleys flood, until the Kidron runs crimson with grief, until there is no more dryness left in him—because only then might the horror finally be enough. For four decades he walked those streets with a heart flayed open. Barefoot in the palace courts. Neck in the stocks while children pelted him with dung. Lowe...