The exposure of our many sins can and should lead us to a renwed daily repentance, a firmer reliance on grace, and a determined prayer that God the Spirit would sensitize our hearts to the abuse of God’s name, strengthen our faith to proclaim his Name, and deepen our reverence for his Name in worship, joining the Psalmist to exclaim, “O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is your Name in all the earth!”

In this framework, both antinomianism and legalism are refuted, and a rich gospel proclamation is reinforced, together with discipleship shaped by the whole counsel of God. Grace does not cancel moral responsibility. It reinforces it and drives it home.. Because salvation unites believers to Christ, a life increasingly shaped by his love is the expected result.

Idols aren’t hard to find.

If we could run an echocardiogram on our souls, they’d show up quickly. Career. Comfort. Politics. Control. Approval. Pleasure. Even religion itself can become an idol. That’s why God doesn’t just say who to worship. He tells us how. Because left to ourselves, we will always redesign worship to suit our preferences. We’d make God in our image and worship that image the way we find fulfilling.

In Exodus 19–20, God gives the Ten Commandments. For many Christians today, that moment feels distant, confusing, or even irrelevant. Some see the Law as a relic from a harsher era. Others see it as a ladder to climb toward God. Still others quietly assume it doesn’t matter anymore.

All of those views are profoundly mistaken. Let’s learn the Ten Commandments and learn how God uses his Law to direct us to Christ and teach us his wisdom.

The first commandment is deceptively simple. It sounds obvious, even tame. Of course, God should be first. Of course, we shouldn’t worship idols. Most of us hear it and nod along. But the truth is this commandment, rightly understood, confronts the deepest loyalties of our hearts. It exposes what we actually love. And if we allow it to do its work, it will change our lives from the inside out.

“It’s too soon to announce a change to the direction of secularism... but I’ve never seen anything like this.” - Ed Stetzer

“This illness is not unto death, it is for the glory of God.” That’s a sentence most late-modern people - even Christians - will stumble over. How can our pain, our suffering, and that of those we love, glorify God? Surely the absence of pain, sorrow, and ease of life is what God wants for us, right? Wrong!

Wrapped in grave clothes, stumbling into the sunlight, Lazarus becomes living proof that Jesus is more than a teacher or a healer—he is the resurrection and the life.

But this moment wasn’t just for Lazarus. It was a sign—the final and most dramatic of seven signs in John’s Gospel, pointing us to who Jesus is and what he came to do.

The crucifixion was the darkest day in history—so dark that the sun itself refused to shine. The Light of the World was snuffed out, and for a moment it looked as though darkness had prevailed. But on the third day, the Light burst forth in glorious day, and the grave was emptied forever. Not only has Christ been raised from the dead, the light of the world shattering death “while it was still dark” (John 20); he has also been raised to the right hand of glory and will come again “to judge the living and the dead.” And when he comes again, “every eye shall see him” (Revelation 1:7).

Resilient joy is not the absence of pain—it’s the presence of Christ in it. It’s knowing He’s alive, He’s sovereign, and He won’t let go. We stand firm because Christ’s hold is strong.

We belong to a Kingdom that cannot be shaken, and even when “the nations rage,” we hold fast to the peace and strength of the Lord Almighty.

In a world that says you are what you earn, what you produce, or what you post, the gospel says: you are loved, forgiven, and made new—before you lift a finger.

All the best this world has to offer—fame, money, status—is skubalon compared to knowing Jesus. This is Gospel joy, all that he has done, is doing now, and will yet do that we might know him.

Life in Christ is eternally secure, but it is never temporally safe. It is not comfortable, predictable, or easy. It is costly. Bonhoeffer was right when he wrote, "When God calls a man, he bids him come and die." Yet this cost is joyfully embraced by those who see Christ as more precious than anything this world offers.

Somehow, in the modern imagination, holiness has been painted gray. Joyless. Grim. Almost repulsive. As if following Jesus means surrendering everything bright and beautiful for something tight-lipped and rule-bound.

Friedrich Nietzsche, a fierce critic of Christianity, took this perception even further. He accused the faith of being hostile to joy itself—promoting cruelty, self-hatred, and a general rejection of freedom, senses, and happiness. “Hatred of joy in general,” he called it.

But is that what holiness really is?

If heaven is the most joyful place in existence—and also the holiest—then surely the problem isn’t with holiness. It’s with how we understand it.

We’re living in a world where pride isn’t just tolerated—it’s rewarded. Where the highest goal is to be seen, heard, praised. But the Gospel pushes against this tidal wave of self-worship with something radically different: humility.

If you feel like your joy is fragile, based on circumstances or outcomes, maybe it’s time to rediscover the joy Paul found…Joy isn’t found in getting what we want. It’s found in giving ourselves for what matters most.

Have you ever heard of Simon of Peraea? Judas bar Hezekiah? Simon bar Kochba They claimed to be the Messiah, just as Jesus did. The Romans killed them too. Here’s the difference: They stayed dead.

That’s why you haven’t heard of them. But Jesus?

This is not the King we’re used to.

We’re not a monarchy-minded culture. We don’t know what to do with a ruler who doesn’t ask for our vote. We prefer leaders we can fire when we’re disappointed. But the Kingdom of God isn’t a democracy. Jesus never said, “Seek first the democracy of God.”