Life's Inanities and Ironies

 Most Christians want to be a blessing, but too many of us end up being a burr under everybody’s saddle. We rub people the wrong way with criticism, gossip, stinginess, and pride. The early church had the opposite problem: they had a man who rubbed everyone the right way, and his nickname literally meant “Son of Encouragement.” His real name was Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus. The apostles called him Barnabas, and in Acts 4:36–37 we’re told why he earned that nickname: “Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas (which means ‘son of encouragement’), sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles’ feet.” That’s it. No fanfare. No GoFundMe campaign. No dedication ceremony. He simply saw a need, sold property, and quietly laid every dollar at the feet of the leadership so the gospel could stay free and the saints could be fed. Here are four timeless ways Barnabas still teaches us to rub people the right way in 2025: 1. Speak encouragement, no...

 The air in the Temple courts was thick with anticipation, but not for the teaching of God’s Word. Early in the morning, a crowd had gathered to hear Jesus Christ , but the scene was abruptly shattered by a crisis of theological and legal proportions. The "terrifying moment" was embodied by a frantic woman, dragged by the scribes and Pharisees and thrown before the Lord. Her crime: adultery , caught "in the very act" (John 8:4). The stakes were absolute—capital punishment. She was standing, spiritually and physically, at the foot of the gallows, facing the executioner's stone under the command of the Mosaic Law . This scene of impending death captures a truth we must never evade: Before a holy God, every single one of us stands condemned. But this passage is about far more than the woman's guilt; it is a profound confrontation with sin , pride, and the non-negotiable nature of God's grace. Before we proceed, a word of assurance: For some, the textual hi...

The Crisis of Conventionality and the Call to Consecration The valley of Elah was silent with the sound of fear. For forty days, a massive Philistine champion, Goliath —a literal monument to human strength—defied the armies of the living God ( 1 Samuel 17 ). Israel, under King Saul , was paralyzed, having prioritized human conventionality (heavy armor, military numbers) over Divine strength. This was more than a military crisis; it was a profound theological scandal. Then stepped forward David , a young, ruddy shepherd boy. He was outside the institution, unqualified by military standards, yet appalled that an “uncircumcised Philistine” should be allowed to defy the Lord. David’s entrance signals the first critical lesson for the consecrated believer: The person God uses operates outside the fear-based status quo of man’s wisdom. Rejecting the Ill-Fitting Armor of Worldly Power Before facing the giant, David faced a test of conformity far more subtle than Goliath’s spear: the offer of...