Danny’s Thoughts, Reviews, and Musings

Danny Price 10/1/26 Danny Price 10/1/26

Week #1: What Is the Day of the Lord?

Blog Series Intention Recap

The Day of the Lord: Exploring the "Day of the Lord" Theme Across Scripture

Few phrases in the Bible sound more ominous than "the Day of the Lord." This four-week Theology Thursday series traces that theme from the prophets into the New Testament. We'll look at what the Day of the Lord is, why a good God must judge evil, why Israel stands at the center of these events, and where it all leads: the return of the King.

We won't spend these four weeks building timelines or trying to explain every detail in Revelation. We'll be asking what these passages reveal about God, whose promises still stand and who is moving history toward Yeshua (Jesus).

God has not lost control of history.

This page is a post in the series “The Day of the Lord: Exploring the "Day of the Lord" Theme Across Scripture.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #1:

"What Is the Day of the Lord?"...

Most Christians have heard the phrase "the Day of the Lord," and many of us carry around a definition we've never checked. Maybe we think it means the end of the world, the Second Coming, or one terrible 24-hour day at the end of time.

Scripture gives us a much bigger picture. So let's begin with the simplest question: what does the Bible mean by the Day of the Lord?

The phrase runs through the prophets, from Isaiah and Joel to Zephaniah and Malachi, and it shows up again in Acts, in Paul's letters, and in Peter's. To understand where the Bible says history is going, you have to understand this phrase.

There's a personal reason too. How you understand the Day of the Lord will shape whether you face the future with dread or with steadiness. When Paul taught a young, persecuted church about this Day, he expected it to leave them more hopeful.

Why it Matters:

The Day of the Lord is God's appointed intervention in human history to judge evil and accomplish what He has promised.
It isn't a single 24-hour day, it isn't only the Second Coming, and it isn't simply "the end of the world."
The prophets used the phrase for judgments in their own time and for a final, greater Day still to come.
Even in Joel's darkest description of that Day, God calls people to return to Him.
Paul teaches about the Day of the Lord immediately after teaching the Church's hope, and he draws a clear line between "they" and "you."
Understanding the Day should make believers watchful, sober, faithful, and hopeful.

Go Deeper:

Whose Day Is It?

Start with the name itself. It isn't called the Day of Catastrophe or the Day of the Antichrist. It's the Day of the Lord.

For most of human history, the days have seemed to belong to someone else. Empires boast, and the proud seem to win. The prophets announce that this arrangement will end:

"The haughty looks of man shall be brought low, and the lofty pride of men shall be humbled, and the LORD alone will be exalted in that day." (Isaiah 2:11, ESV)

The Day of the Lord is the day God steps into history openly and decisively to confront evil and make it undeniable who has been in charge all along.

A Day That Surprised Israel

Amos used the phrase to correct people who were looking forward to the Day. Many in Israel assumed it would be good news: God would show up, crush their enemies, and vindicate His people. Amos turned that expectation upside down:

"Woe to you who desire the day of the LORD! Why would you have the day of the LORD? It is darkness, and not light." (Amos 5:18, ESV)

God hadn't given up on Israel. But the Day belongs to the Lord, so it is measured by His holiness, and nobody gets to aim it at other people while assuming they're safe from it. How easy is it to want God to deal with everyone else's sin while barely noticing our own?

Joel: A Dark Day and an Open Door

The prophet Joel gives us one of the fullest pictures of the Day of the Lord. His book opens with a devastating locust plague that stripped the land bare. Joel saw that disaster as a warning: "Alas for the day! For the day of the LORD is near" (Joel 1:15, ESV).

Then, in chapter 2, the picture grows darker and larger:

"Blow a trumpet in Zion; sound an alarm on my holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the LORD is coming; it is near, a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness!" (Joel 2:1–2, ESV)

A few verses later Joel asks the question anyone would ask: "For the day of the LORD is great and very awesome; who can endure it?" (Joel 2:11, ESV).

And then, right in the middle of all that darkness, God speaks:

"'Yet even now,' declares the LORD, 'return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments.' Return to the LORD your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love; and he relents over disaster." (Joel 2:12–13, ESV)

The same God who announces the Day also holds the door open. Joel goes on to promise that "everyone who calls on the name of the LORD shall be saved" (Joel 2:32, ESV).

Joel's message also ends in restoration. God promises, "I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten" (Joel 2:25, ESV), and then says this:

"You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel, and that I am the LORD your God and there is none else. And my people shall never again be put to shame." (Joel 2:27, ESV)

The Day is heading toward God dwelling among His people and keeping His word to Israel.

Joel also shows how the prophets saw the future. They often looked at a judgment in their own day and saw through it to a final and far greater Day, the way two mountain peaks can look side by side from a distance even with a wide valley between them. The locusts were real, and so were Joel's near-term warnings. They also pointed ahead to God's final intervention in history.

What Does "Day" Mean?

With that background, we can clear up the three misunderstandings we started with.

It isn't one 24-hour day. In the Bible, "day" can describe a period of time, the way we might say "back in my grandfather's day." Scripture uses "the Day of the Lord" for more than a single 24-hour event. The prophets describe judgment, deliverance, and restoration under the language of "that day," and the New Testament carries the theme forward.

It isn't only the Second Coming. The Day of the Lord moves history toward Yeshua's visible return, and this series is headed there. But Scripture also describes a time of judgment on a rebellious world leading up to His return. Through the dispensational lens this blog uses, that period is the Tribulation. The Tribulation is a distinct chapter in God's plan, dealing with the nations and with God's unfinished covenant purposes for Israel. It isn't simply the Church Age getting worse at the end.

It isn't simply "the end of the world." The Day of the Lord ends the world as rebellion has shaped it. God's plans for the world continue past the judgment. The returning King will establish His kingdom, and that is where the story is heading.

From the Blessed Hope to the Day of the Lord

The passage at the heart of this series is 1 Thessalonians 5, and it makes the most sense next to chapter 4. There Paul describes the Lord Himself coming for His Church: the dead in Messiah rising, living believers caught up to meet Him, and all of them together with the Lord forever. He closes that thought with, "Therefore encourage one another with these words" (1 Thessalonians 4:18, ESV). (If you'd like to dig into that passage, it was the focus of the series "The Blessed Hope.")

The chapter numbers in our Bibles were added centuries later, and Paul's thought keeps moving:

"Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers, you have no need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, 'There is peace and security,' then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape." (1 Thessalonians 5:1–3, ESV)

The "thief in the night" picture is about surprise. The Day arrives on a world that feels settled and secure, and like labor pains, once it begins, it can't be stopped.

Then Paul turns to his readers:

"But you are not in darkness, brothers, for that day to surprise you like a thief. For you are all children of light, children of the day. We are not of the night or of the darkness." (1 Thessalonians 5:4–5, ESV)

Look at the pronouns in verses 1 through 5. They are saying "peace and security." Destruction comes upon them. They will not escape. But you are not in darkness.

Paul teaches the Day of the Lord so believers will understand who they are, and he states it plainly:

"For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him." (1 Thessalonians 5:9–10, ESV)

Our calling is to live as children of light while we wait for the Messiah who died for us.

How Does This Help Me Understand "The Day of the Lord"?

The Day of the Lord is God's appointed intervention in human history to judge evil and accomplish what He has promised. God has set it on His calendar. When it comes, He will bring down human pride, judge evil, and keep what He has promised. That includes His promises to Israel, and it moves history toward the return of the King who will establish His kingdom.

That's why the recurring truth of this series matters: God has not lost control of history, because He has appointed the Day. When the world looks chaotic, when the proud seem to be winning, when "peace and security" sounds like wishful thinking, the Day of the Lord reminds us that history has a direction and a Judge.

Paul said as much when he preached in Athens. God "has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead" (Acts 17:31, ESV). Paul connects that coming judgment directly to Yeshua. The One God raised from the dead is the One who will judge the world in righteousness.

Living as Children of the Day

So how should we live because this is true? Paul answers right after the passage we just read:

"So then let us not sleep, as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober... But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, having put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation." (1 Thessalonians 5:6, 8, ESV)

Be watchful. "Keep awake" means refusing to drift into spiritual sleep. A watchful believer pays attention to their own heart, their own obedience, and the people God has placed around them.

Be sober. Being sober means thinking clearly. The Day of the Lord is serious, and we shouldn't treat it lightly, but we don't have to live anxious about it either.

Be faithful. Faith and love are the breastplate. The best preparation for the future is trusting God and loving people today, in ordinary ways, while the world insists everything is fine.

Be hopeful. Hope is the helmet, the thing that protects how we think. Our minds don't have to be governed by dread, because our future has already been settled: not wrath, but salvation through Yeshua.

Then Paul adds one more instruction, echoing the end of chapter 4: "Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing" (1 Thessalonians 5:11, ESV). Paul meant this truth to make believers stronger together.

You don't need to master every prophetic detail or build a perfect timeline to live this way. What you need is confidence in the God who holds the timeline and keeps His promises, even when generations pass before we see their fulfillment. His promises to Israel are one of the clearest reminders that He does not forget what He has said.

The Day belongs to the Lord. And if you belong to Him, you are a child of the day.

Danny Price 10/1/26 Danny Price 10/1/26

The Day of the Lord: Exploring the 'Day of the Lord' Theme Across Scripture

Blog Series Intention Recap

The Day of the Lord: Exploring the "Day of the Lord" Theme Across Scripture

God has not lost control of history.

This post is the main page of the series “The Day of the Lord: Exploring the 'Day of the Lord' Theme Across Scripture.”

Week 1 — What Is the Day of the Lord?
Week 2 — Why Must Judgment Come?
Week 3 — The Time of Jacob's Trouble
Week 4 — When the King Returns

Danny Price 9/24/26 Danny Price 9/24/26

Week #4 - Therefore, Encourage One Another

Blog Series Intention Recap

The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment

The future can feel uncertain. Wars, political upheaval, cultural change, and personal loss can make us wonder what comes next. But Scripture does not tell the Church to fear the future. It tells us to expect the Messiah. Paul calls His return our "blessed hope" (Titus 2:13).

The Blessed Hope is a four-week Theology Thursday series exploring the Messiah's return for His Church. We'll look at what Christians are waiting for, what happens when believers are "caught up" to meet the Lord, why I believe Scripture teaches that the Church will be removed before the Tribulation, and how that hope should shape our lives today.

This isn't about setting dates, decoding headlines, or forcing current events onto a prophecy chart.

We are waiting for Yeshua (Jesus).

The Blessed Hope isn't simply about knowing what happens next. It's about knowing Who is coming.

This page is a post in the series “The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #4:

"Therefore, Encourage One Another"...

We've spent this series asking three questions. Who are we waiting for? Yeshua Himself. What happens when He comes for His Church? The dead in Messiah rise, and living believers are gathered with them to meet the Lord. And when does that happen? I've argued that Scripture points toward the Church being removed before the coming judgment of the Day of the Lord.

That leaves one question, and it may be the most important one: now what?

Why it Matters:

Hope doesn't erase grief, but it changes what grief looks like from the inside.
Waiting for Yeshua isn't a reason to disengage from ordinary life. It's a reason to take that life more seriously.
The same hope that steadies us for the future is meant to move us to share it with others now.
Whatever the headlines say this week, the trajectory of history isn't in their hands.
None of this is about staring at the sky in fear. It's the opposite of fear.

Go Deeper:

Because the Blessed Hope was never meant to sit in a drawer as a doctrine correctly filed. Paul didn't write Titus 2 to satisfy curiosity about the future. He wrote it to shape how people live right now.

"For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works." (Titus 2:11–14, ESV)

Grace appeared. Grace trains us. Glory will appear. This series opened with that three-part movement in Week 1, and it's worth returning to here, because it's the engine behind everything this final post wants to say. The Blessed Hope isn't only something we believe about the future. It is meant to shape the way we live in the present.

Hope That Changes Grief

Paul tells grieving believers they don't have to grieve "as others do who have no hope" (1 Thessalonians 4:13, ESV). Notice what that verse doesn't say. It doesn't say Christians don't grieve. It says our grief isn't the last word.

That's not a minor distinction. Grief is real, and Scripture never asks us to pretend otherwise. Losing someone hurts whether or not you believe in the resurrection. But grief held inside the hope of the resurrection has a floor. Death doesn't get to keep what it takes; the dead in Messiah rise. The Blessed Hope doesn't take grief away. It keeps grief from becoming despair. That's not a small thing to offer someone in the middle of loss.

Hope That Produces Holiness

It would be easy to hear a series like this and walk away thinking the point is mostly information: here's what happens, here's when, here's the order of events. But Titus 2 won't let the Blessed Hope stay that abstract. Grace, Paul says, is "training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives" (Titus 2:12, ESV).

Waiting for Yeshua isn't a license to check out of ordinary obedience until He arrives. It's the opposite. Knowing He's coming makes faithfulness in small, unglamorous moments feel worth it. Hope doesn't compete with holiness. It fuels it.

Think about how strange it would be if the opposite were true. Imagine someone convinced that Yeshua could return at any moment, and imagine that conviction made them less careful with their words, less faithful in their commitments, less concerned with how they treated the people around them. That's not what genuine expectation produces. Paul doesn't treat "He's coming back" as an excuse to coast. He treats it as the reason to renounce whatever we've been tolerating in ourselves. The nearness of the hope raises the stakes on the present, not lowers them.

Hope That Creates Urgency

Titus 2 already gives us a reason for this. Messiah redeemed "a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works" (Titus 2:14, ESV). Good works aren't limited to private acts of kindness. And surely a people transformed by grace should also be ready to share the hope we have with people who don't yet have it. If judgment is coming, and if the people around us desperately need the good news of Yeshua, that should give our witness urgency. Not panic. Urgency.

People we know, people we work with, people in our own families, are living without this hope. The Blessed Hope was never meant to make us more comfortable talking about the future and less inclined to talk about the gospel. It should be the reverse.

It's possible to spend a whole month thinking carefully about the Rapture, the Day of the Lord, and the timing of Messiah's return, and come away with nothing but better answers in an argument. That's not what any of this was for. The Blessed Hope was never meant to be private. It was always meant to be shared.

Hope That Gives Courage

Go back to how this series opened: wars, political upheaval, cultural change, personal loss, all the things that can make the future feel unstable. None of that language was accidental. It's the world most of us actually live in.

Here's what the Blessed Hope says to that world: none of it gets the final say. Not an election. Not a war. Not an economic downturn. Not a headline written to make us afraid. Yeshua does. A Christian who has actually let that sink in doesn't have to live reactively to every piece of bad news. We can be engaged without being anxious, because the trajectory of history was settled before any of this week's headlines were written.

That doesn't mean nothing matters until He comes. It means everything matters differently. We can care about our communities, our work, our families, and the state of the world, without needing any of it to resolve in our favor before we're willing to feel steady. That's not the same as certainty about what happens next in our own lives. It's certainty about who is holding all of it. Courage isn't the absence of concern. It's confidence underneath the concern, because God's ultimate purposes are not in doubt.

How does this help me understand the concept of “The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment?”

Hope That Produces Comfort

Which brings this series back to where Paul himself kept landing. Twice in these four weeks, once closing 1 Thessalonians 4 and once closing 1 Thessalonians 5, he says almost the same thing:

"Therefore encourage one another with these words." (1 Thessalonians 4:18, ESV)

Not "therefore figure out exactly when this happens." Not "therefore argue about the chart." Therefore encourage one another. That's the response Paul actually expects this teaching to produce. Not anxiety about getting every detail right, but truth we use to strengthen and comfort one another.

It's worth noticing what that word "therefore" is doing in both places. It's not a throwaway transition. It's Paul pointing back at everything he just said, the resurrection, the gathering, the deliverance from wrath, and drawing one practical conclusion from all of it. Paul points all of that theology toward the person beside us: strengthen them with what is true. Comfort them with what God has promised. Not because the doctrine doesn't matter, but because this is what the doctrine is for. If a month of thinking hard about the Blessed Hope doesn't end with us being more comforting people to be around, we've missed something Paul clearly meant for us to catch.

How Should We Live While We Wait?

Here's the thing worth saying plainly as this series closes: none of this needed a fifth argument. It needed exactly what Titus 2 already gave it in Week 1. Grace appeared. Grace is training us right now, this week, in whatever it is we're actually facing. Glory will appear.

We don't have to resolve every question about timing to let this hope shape us. We don't have to wait for the world to get bad enough before we start living like Yeshua is coming. We can grieve differently, because we're not grieving without hope. We can face an uncertain future differently, because God's final purpose for His people is not wrath, but salvation through Yeshua. And we can simply live differently, today, because grace has already appeared and is already at work in us.

That's the whole series in one sentence. Not a chart. A Person, and what knowing He's coming does to the people who are waiting for Him.

So take Paul's command seriously this week. Think of one person who needs hope, someone grieving, afraid, discouraged, or simply worn down by what's happening around them. Encourage them. Remind them what God has promised. And then live your own ordinary week like you really believe Yeshua is coming.

The Blessed Hope isn't that we have figured out the future.

The Blessed Hope is Yeshua.

We know who is coming. And because we know who is coming, we know how to live while we wait.

Danny Price 9/17/26 Danny Price 9/17/26

Week #3 - Not Appointed to Wrath

Blog Series Intention Recap

The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment

This isn't about setting dates, decoding headlines, or forcing current events onto a prophecy chart.

We are waiting for Yeshua (Jesus).

The Blessed Hope isn't simply about knowing what happens next. It's about knowing Who is coming.

This page is a post in the series “The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #3:

"Not Appointed to Wrath"...

Week 2 answered one question: what happens when Christ comes for His Church? He gathers His people. The dead in Messiah rise first, and those still living are caught up together with them to meet the Lord in the air.

That answer raises another question immediately. When does this happen? Before, during, or after the period of judgment Scripture calls the Tribulation?

This is the most debated post in the series, and I want to be plain about what I'm not trying to do. I'm not trying to hand you a chart and tell you it's the only one a faithful Christian could draw. I'm telling you why I believe Scripture teaches that the Church will be removed before that coming judgment, not to win an argument, but because I think it's what these texts actually say, and because I think it matters for how we wait.

It also helps to say clearly what the claim is not. It is not that Christians are exempt from suffering, from persecution, or from the Lord's own discipline of His children. Believers have always suffered, sometimes terribly, and Scripture never promises otherwise. The claim is narrower and more specific: the Church is not destined for a particular, future, worldwide judgment the Bible calls the Day of the Lord. That distinction is the difference this whole post is trying to explain.

Why it Matters:

The Church's future isn't wrath. It's rescue.
"Sudden destruction" and "they will not escape" describe the experience of those facing the Day of the Lord; Paul immediately contrasts them with believers, who are children of light.
The recurring emphasis of the New Testament is that believers wait expectantly for Yeshua Himself.
Whatever you conclude about timing, "God has not destined us for wrath" is a promise built on faith in Messiah, not on getting the chart right.

Go Deeper:

Paul gives us an important piece of that case in 1 Thessalonians 5:

"Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers, you have no need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, 'There is peace and security,' then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape. But you are not in darkness, brothers, for that day to surprise you like a thief. For you are all children of light, children of the day. We are not of the night or of the darkness... For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing." (1 Thessalonians 5:1–6, 9–11, ESV)

A Thief in the Night, But Not for You

Paul opens by telling the Thessalonians something they already knew: "the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night" (1 Thessalonians 5:2, ESV). Here Paul emphasizes the judgment side of the biblical Day of the Lord: sudden destruction coming on an unprepared world, catching people mid-sentence as they say, "there is peace and security" (5:3).

Then comes the turn that carries the passage: "But you are not in darkness, brothers, for that day to surprise you like a thief" (5:4). The world and the Church are deliberately placed on opposite sides of Paul's contrast: "they" face sudden destruction; "you" are children of light. That distinction alone doesn't prove the Church's removal. A believer could read this and still conclude they're present for that day, just spiritually prepared for it rather than caught off guard. But it prepares for Paul's stronger statement a few verses later: "God has not destined us for wrath."

Not Destined for Wrath

Here's the verse the whole argument turns on: "For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Thessalonians 5:9, ESV). Paul isn't speculating. He's stating a settled fact about believers' destiny, the same way he stated a settled fact about the resurrection in last week's passage.

This isn't the only place he says it. Earlier in this same letter, he describes the Thessalonians' conversion as turning "to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come" (1 Thessalonians 1:10, ESV). The Son and deliverance from wrath aren't presented as two separate hopes. Read together, these two verses describe the same future from two angles.

So which wrath is this? Not the ordinary hardships of life in a fallen world, and not the Lord's discipline of His own children, which Hebrews 12 describes as something a good Father does out of love. This is the specific, climactic, worldwide judgment Paul has just described: the Day of the Lord, the "sudden destruction" that overtakes an unprepared world like labor pains. Taken in context, I believe this is the wrath believers are told they are not destined for.

Kept From the Hour

Jesus makes a similar promise to one of the seven churches in Revelation: "Because you have kept my word about patient endurance, I will keep you from the hour of trial that is coming on the whole world, to try those who dwell on the earth" (Revelation 3:10, ESV).

Pre-tribulational interpreters see something important in the wording: Yeshua doesn't merely promise faithfulness within the trial but says, "I will keep you from the hour of trial." The promise concerns the hour itself, a worldwide period directed toward "those who dwell on the earth," a phrase that shows up repeatedly later in Revelation as a description of the very people the Tribulation judgments fall on. I think the most natural reading is exemption from that coming period, rather than preservation through it. That's not the only way this verse has been read, but it's the reading I find most faithful to what Jesus actually promises here.

Two Very Different Pictures

Put the two passages side by side, and the differences are striking. Week 2 looked closely at 1 Thessalonians 4: Christ descends, believers are gathered up to meet Him in the air, and "we will always be with the Lord" (4:17, ESV). Set that picture next to another one, in Revelation 19:

"Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war... From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty." (Revelation 19:11, 15, ESV)

In 1 Thessalonians 4, believers are gathered to meet the Lord in the air. In Revelation 19, Messiah descends in judgment against the nations gathered in rebellion. Both are real. Both are certain. But a Bible reader has to explain why the New Testament describes Christ's coming in two such different keys: comfort in one place, conquest in another. The pre-tribulational reading understands these as distinct moments in the larger story of Messiah's return: first coming for His Church, later coming with His saints in judgment.

How does this help me understand the concept of “The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment?”

Watching for a Person, Not a Prerequisite

Here's a simple test. Read back through what the New Testament tells believers to watch for. "Waiting for his Son from heaven" (1 Thessalonians 1:10). "Waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ" (Titus 2:13, the verse this whole series is built on). The recurring emphasis is striking: believers are never told to watch for the Antichrist's identity, the rebuilding of a temple, or any other Tribulation milestone as something that has to happen before their hope arrives.

That's strange to leave out if the Church actually had to live through the Tribulation before Christ's appearing. You'd expect the New Testament to tell believers what to watch for on the ground. Instead, it tells them who to watch for in the sky. That's not proof by itself. But stacked next to a promised deliverance from wrath and a promised keeping from the hour of trial, it points in the same direction each time.

Why This Is Bigger Than a Chart

This series opened with a warning I meant as much for myself as for you: don't let September become four posts defending a timeline. Even here, in the most technical post of the month, that's still not the point. If you land somewhere different than I do on exactly when the Rapture happens relative to the Tribulation, this post hasn't failed. The Blessed Hope was never a chart to get right. It's a Person to wait for.

And beneath the timing question is a promise we shouldn't miss: God's final purpose for His people is not wrath, but salvation through Yeshua the Messiah. We haven't earned that rescue. Our hope rests entirely in the One who died for us and rose again, so that whether we are awake or asleep, we might live with Him.

Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.

Danny Price 9/10/26 Danny Price 9/10/26

Week #2 - Caught Up

Blog Series Intention Recap

The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment

This isn't about setting dates, decoding headlines, or forcing current events onto a prophecy chart.

We are waiting for Yeshua (Jesus).

The Blessed Hope isn't simply about knowing what happens next. It's about knowing Who is coming.

This page is a post in the series “The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #2:

"Caught Up"...

As a pastor, I have found myself sitting across from a grieving family. A little boy died of brain cancer. A teenager took his own life. A hit-and-run driver took an elderly aunt away from their family. We all deal with grief.

The believers in Thessalonica faced grief. Paul had planted this church on a whirlwind visit, only weeks long, before persecution forced him out of the city in the middle of the night (Acts 17:1–10). He never got the long, settled ministry among them that he wanted. He later tells them that being separated from them felt like being "torn away" (1 Thessalonians 2:17, ESV), and that he tried more than once to come back but couldn't.

So when some of their own people died, this young church didn't have years of teaching to stand on. They only had what Paul had managed to tell them in a few short weeks, and it apparently wasn't enough to answer the question now before them: if Yeshua was coming back for His Church, what would happen to the believers who died before He came? Would they somehow be at a disadvantage?

Why it Matters:

Paul wrote this to comfort grieving believers, not to hand them a prophecy chart.
The word "Rapture" isn't found in most English Bibles, but the biblical language behind it is: believers will be "caught up" to meet the Lord.
Believers who have died in Messiah are not left behind. They rise before the living believers are caught up.
The promise doesn't end with an event. It ends with a permanent future: "so we will always be with the Lord."

Go Deeper:

Paul writes to comfort them. And what he says becomes one of the most familiar and most debated passages in the New Testament, the passage that describes what we now call the Rapture.

"But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words." (1 Thessalonians 4:13–18, ESV)

This event shows the side of the hope Week 1 named. The Blessed Hope is Yeshua, and this is what it looks like when He comes for His Church.

Why Paul Wrote This

Paul opens with the reason for the whole passage: "we do not want you to be uninformed... that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope" (1 Thessalonians 4:13, ESV). This wasn't a theology lecture Paul decided the Thessalonians needed. He was their pastor and cared for them. People they loved had died, and the church didn't know what that meant for the hope they'd been taught to expect.

Notice, too, the word Paul chooses for death: "asleep." He uses it twice in this short passage, and it isn't a euphemism to soften the blow. It's a picture. Paul's picture of sleep doesn't mean the believer's soul becomes unconscious at death. His point is about the temporary nature of bodily death. Sleep ends. So will the grave. Paul isn't minimizing what the Thessalonians lost. He's describing for them what kind of loss it actually is.

That context matters for how we read everything that follows. Paul isn't building a timeline for its own sake. He's answering a specific fear with a specific promise.

Because He Rose, They Will Too

Before Paul says anything about being caught up, he lays the foundation the entire promise stands on: "since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep" (1 Thessalonians 4:14, ESV).

The entire passage hinges on this idea, and it's easy to read past it on the way to the more dramatic verses that follow. Paul doesn't start with angels, trumpets, or clouds. He starts with an already-settled fact: Jesus died and rose again. Everything else in this passage extends from that one event. The foundation of their hope rests on the resurrection of Yeshua: death did not hold Him, and it will not have the final word over those who belong to Him.

That's the same grace this whole series keeps returning to. Grace appeared in the person and work of Yeshua the Messiah. Now that same grace guarantees a resurrection for everyone who belongs to Him.

Is the Rapture Even in the Bible?

It's a fair, common question. The English word "Rapture" doesn't appear in most Bible translations. But the concept it names appears in verse 17: believers "caught up together... to meet the Lord in the air." The Greek verb is harpazō, meaning to snatch up or seize suddenly. When the New Testament was translated into Latin, that word became rapiemur, from rapio, and English eventually borrowed "Rapture" from there.

So the word came from translation history. The event Paul describes also echoes Yeshua's promise to His disciples on the night before His death: "I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also" (John 14:3, ESV). Whatever distinctions we need to make between these passages, they share the same personal center: Yeshua comes for His people so that they may be with Him.

The Dead in Messiah Rise First

Here's the answer to the Thessalonians' actual fear: "the dead in Christ will rise first" (1 Thessalonians 4:16, ESV). Believers who died before Christ's return are not disadvantaged. They are not forgotten, and they have not missed anything. They are the first to be raised, not the last to be remembered.

Paul fills out the picture further in 1 Corinthians 15: "we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet" (1 Corinthians 15:51–52, ESV). Where Thessalonians emphasizes resurrection and reunion, Corinthians emphasizes transformation, bodies made imperishable and fit for what's coming. Together they make the same basic point: whether a believer has already died or is still alive when Christ returns changes nothing about whether they share in the hope.

It's worth pausing on what kind of promise this is. Paul isn't comforting the Thessalonians with the idea that their loved ones' souls are safe somewhere, though that's also true (2 Corinthians 5:8). He's promising something more specific: bodies raised. The Christian hope has never been an escape from physical existence into some disembodied spiritual state. Our hope is bodily resurrection, grounded in the resurrection of Yeshua Himself. Whatever death took, God intends to give back, and more besides.

Caught Up Together

Then comes the moment the whole passage has been building toward: "For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God... we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord" (1 Thessalonians 4:16–17, ESV).

Paul describes the moment with unmistakable drama: a cry of command, the voice of an archangel, the trumpet of God. Heaven acts decisively, the dead are raised, and the living are caught up.

Notice, too, the word "together." This isn't a private event happening to scattered believers one at a time. It's a reunion. The living and the dead in Messiah are gathered to meet the same Lord.

And notice where the sentence actually ends. It doesn't end at "meet the Lord in the air." It ends at "we will always be with the Lord." The event isn't the point. The permanence is. Paul isn't describing an escape from the world. He's describing an unbroken future with Christ that death itself cannot interrupt.

How does this help me understand the concept of “The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment?”

Not a Prophecy Chart, But a Comfort

It would be easy to turn this passage into a diagram: descent, cry of command, trumpet, resurrection, catching up, meeting in the air. Each detail is there, and each one matters, and this series will return to some of them, especially the question of timing, in Week 3. But Paul doesn't stop after describing the event. He tells us what to do with it.

"Therefore encourage one another with these words" (1 Thessalonians 4:18, ESV).

Not "debate these words." Encourage one another with them. Whatever else this passage teaches, Paul wrote it to be used at a graveside, not just studied at a whiteboard.

Why This Changes the Way We Grieve

Paul never tells the Thessalonians not to grieve. He tells them not to grieve "as others do who have no hope" (1 Thessalonians 4:13, ESV). Grief and hope are not opposites here. Christians still experience the death of people we love. We still cry at funerals, sit up at night missing someone, feel the empty chair at the table. What's different is not whether we grieve. It's what the grief is standing on.

Grief without hope has nowhere to go. It can only look backward, at what's gone. Grief with hope can look backward and forward at the same time. It can hold both truths honestly: this loss is real, and this loss is not final. That's not a trick for feeling better faster. It's simply true, if what Paul says here is true.

This is also why this passage was never meant to live only in a study Bible. It belongs at gravesides, in hospital waiting rooms, in the quiet weeks after a funeral when the casseroles stop coming and the missing hasn't. "Therefore encourage one another with these words" isn't a suggestion for how to end a sermon. It's an instruction for how believers are supposed to care for each other when someone they love has fallen asleep in Messiah.

That's the same hope Week 1 already named. Grace has appeared. Glory will appear. And in between, death does not get the last word for those who are in Messiah.

Maybe you know someone who is grieving right now. Don't rush to explain every detail of what comes next. Remind them Who is coming. Remind them that those who died in Messiah are not forgotten. Remind them that death does not get the last word.

And if you're the one grieving, let Paul's words do what he intended. Grieve honestly. But don't grieve without hope.

Therefore encourage one another with these words.

Danny Price 9/4/26 Danny Price 9/4/26

Book of the Month - September 2026

My Jewish Year:

18 Holidays, One Wandering Jew

Abigail Pogrebin - ISBN: 978-1941493205 - 2017

Author:

Abigail Pogrebin

Pogrebin is also the author of Stars of David: Prominent Jews Talk About Being Jewish, in which she discussed Jewish identity with 62 celebrated public figures ranging from Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg to Steven Spielberg, from Mike Wallace to Natalie Portman. Pogrebin’s second book, One and the Same, about the challenges of twinship, is grounded in her own experience as half of an identical pair. Most recently, she published “Showstopper,” a bestselling Amazon Kindle Single that recalls her adventures as a 16-year-old cast member in the original Broadway production of Stephen Sondheim’s flop-turned-cult-favorite, “Merrily We Roll Along.”

Pogrebin’s articles have appeared in Newsweek, New York magazine, The Daily Beast, Tablet, and many other publications. Pogrebin was formerly a producer for Ed Bradley and Mike Wallace at CBS News’ 60 Minutes, where she was nominated for an Emmy. Before that, she produced for broadcasting pioneers Fred Friendly, Bill Moyers, and Charlie Rose at PBS.

A frequent speaker at synagogues and Jewish organizations around the country, Pogrebin has for seven years produced and moderated her own interview series at the JCC of Manhattan called “What Everyone’s Talking About.” Abigail Pogrebin lives in New York with her husband, David Shapiro, and their two teenage children.

Taken from amazon.com

Brief Synopsis:

In the tradition of The Year of Living Biblically by A. J. Jacobs and Walking the Bible: A Journey by Land Through the Five Books of Moses by Bruce Feiler comes Abigail Pogrebin's My Jewish Year, a lively chronicle of the author's journey into the spiritual heart of Judaism.

Although she grew up following some holiday rituals, Pogrebin realized how little she knew about their foundational purpose and contemporary relevance; she wanted to understand what had kept these holidays alive and vibrant, some for thousands of years. Her curiosity led her to embark on an entire year of intensive research, observation, and writing about the milestones on the religious calendar.

Whether in search of a roadmap for Jewish life or a challenging probe into the architecture of Jewish tradition, listeners will be captivated, educated, and inspired by Abigail Pogrebin's My Jewish Year.

Taken from amazon.com

Insights:

“Simchat Torah (rejoicing of the Torah) marks the day we complete the Torah and start it all over again. The last verses of the last book (Deuteronomy) are read, followed by the first verses of the first book (Genesis). It’s a clear snapshot of how we hold both the ending and the beginning in the same moment, not to mention that the ending never ends.”

“Contrary to the other three hundred days of the year, when you’re running and doing and building and constructing, the Jewish holidays provide a kind of in-built way to pause and to gather yourself and regenerate. . . . Our lives can become so full of activities and to-do tasks that, in some sense, the soul becomes overwhelmed. We need to defragment our souls. We can be pulled in so many different directions, but the holidays help that part of us that needs meaning and connection and great purpose. . . . Holiday rituals are ancient technologies that carry contemporary wisdom. Judaism works.”

“Other religions fast— Christians during Lent, Muslims during Ramadan, Hindus, Buddhists, Mormons, Eastern Orthodox. Reasons include asceticism, contemplation, penance, purification, resistance to gluttony, spiritual improvement, closeness to God. Jews add memory. We fast to remember. Tisha B'Av marks the mother lode of memorial, exceeding Yom HaShoah and Yom HaZikaron.”

“This holiday of Passover is indisputably oriented toward the younger generation. The Torah repeats and repeats: Tell it to the children. They'll grow up to be the tellers. When the children disengage, we've failed the mitzvah.”

Should I read it or skip it?

I picked up My Jewish Year for two reasons:

I wanted to understand the modern Jewish calendar. Over time, new holidays have been added to the list of Leviticus 23.
I wanted to see how a modern Jewish writer would approach the holidays that have shaped Jewish life for thousands of years.

Abigail Pogrebin is a writer, wife, daughter, and mom who invites readers into her own journey of rediscovering these celebrations, admitting upfront that she doesn't have all the answers. That honesty makes the book easy to enjoy. Along the way, she introduces readers to the traditions, history, and debates surrounding each holiday. Even when I disagreed with her conclusions, I appreciated her curiosity and the respect as she answers the question, “Does Jewishness matter to me and how does it shape my life?”

The line that stuck with me most was when she asked, "What do we hire a holiday to do for us?" It's a clever question given to her by a Rabbi. It makes you stop and think. But it also points to my biggest difference with the book. Pogrebin often explains the value of the holidays in terms of tradition, identity, community, or what they accomplish for the people who observe them. Those things matter, but I believe they're secondary. The biblical festivals weren't created because they were useful or meaningful — they were given by God. Our starting point should be "What has God revealed?" not "What does this do for me?" Understanding and obedience should come before utility. Tradition has value, but it should grow out of Scripture rather than replace it.

Even with that difference, I came away glad I read this book. It gave me a better appreciation for how many Jewish people think about their calendar today, and it pushed me to consider why modern-day Jews observe the biblical feasts. I'd recommend it to anyone who wants to understand contemporary Jewish practice — but I'd also encourage readers to keep their Bible open while they read. The traditions are interesting, the stories are engaging, and the questions are worth wrestling with. In the end, though, Scripture must remain the lens through which I want to understand God's appointed times.

Danny Price 9/3/26 Danny Price 9/3/26

Week #1 - What Are We Waiting For?

Blog Series Intention Recap

The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment

This isn't about setting dates, decoding headlines, or forcing current events onto a prophecy chart.

We are waiting for Yeshua (Jesus).

The Blessed Hope isn't simply about knowing what happens next. It's about knowing Who is coming.

This page is a post in the series “The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #1:

"What Are We Waiting For?"...

What are you waiting for right now?

The test results. The phone call. The job offer. The kids to finally come home for the holidays.

Everybody is waiting for something. And what we're waiting for shapes how we live while we wait. Anxious waiting looks different from hopeful waiting, even when the waiting itself takes the same number of days.

Paul says Christians are waiting too.

But notice what Titus 2 does not say we're waiting for. Our attention is not primarily fixed on the Antichrist, the arrival of the Tribulation, or civilization finally collapsing under its own weight, though a glance at any given week's headlines might make that feel like the safer bet.

We are waiting for Yeshua.

Why it Matters:

Biblical hope gives us confidence when the future feels uncertain.
Waiting for Yeshua doesn't pull us out of the present. It changes how we live in it.
Prophecy ultimately points us toward a Person, not merely a timeline.
The certainty of His return gives us reason to live faithfully right now.

Go Deeper:

Titus 2:11–14 says this beautifully, and it gives this entire series its anchor:

"For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works." (Titus 2:11–14, ESV)

Read those words slowly, and you'll notice that Paul moves in three directions:

Grace appeared.
Grace trains us.
Glory will appear.

Past. Present. Future.

And right in the middle of that movement is where Christians live today.

What Does Paul Mean by "the Blessed Hope"?

In everyday English, hope can sound like a wish.

"I hope it doesn't rain. I hope the test comes back clear. I hope everything works out. I hope you have a great day!"

That's not the sense Paul gives us here. In this passage, hope isn't a nervous "maybe." It is confident expectation grounded in God's promise. The question isn't whether Yeshua will return. We wait with confidence because we know that He will.

That's important for everything that follows in this series. We'll talk about a real, specific, future event. But before we talk about timelines, Tribulation, or the Rapture, Titus reminds us where our confidence belongs.

Not in our ability to decode the future, but in the One who promised to return.

Grace That Appeared

Paul begins in the past: "For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people..." (Titus 2:11, ESV)

Something happened.

Grace didn't remain an abstract idea. It entered history in the person and work of Yeshua the Messiah.

And notice the order. Before Paul tells Christians how to live, he tells them what God has already done.

Grace came first.

That's Christianity. We don't live faithfully so that God might finally show us grace. God's grace has appeared, and that grace changes the way we live.

Grace That Trains Us

This may be the easiest part of the passage to rush past.

We're talking about Christ's return, after all. Let's get to the exciting part.

But Paul doesn't.

Grace is "training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age" (Titus 2:12, ESV).

Grace doesn't only save us. Grace trains us. Grace disciples and transforms us. Grace grows our spirits.

Waiting for Yeshua doesn't mean staring at the sky while ignoring the work God has put before us.

The same grace that tells us He is coming also teaches us how to live until He does.

Glory That Will Appear

Then Paul finally turns our eyes toward the future:

"waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ..." (Titus 2:13, ESV)

Waiting isn't presented as an occasional activity. It's a posture. Christians live looking forward.

And there is something else in this verse that we shouldn't miss. The grammar points to "our great God and Savior Jesus Christ" as one person. The One we're waiting for is not simply a teacher, prophet, or religious leader.

He is our great God and Savior.

That makes the Blessed Hope intensely personal. We're not waiting for an event. We're waiting for Someone to come. Paul even ties the Messiah's two appearances together. Grace has appeared. Now we wait for the appearing of glory.

He came in grace. But when He comes for us, He will appear in glory.

And we live between those two appearances. That is where a study of the Blessed Hope needs to begin, not with a prophecy chart, but with a Person.

Not a Prophecy Chart, But a Person

It would be easy to begin a series like this with timelines and charts. Seven years here. The Rapture there. The Antichrist somewhere in between. Those questions matter. We'll deal with them.

But Titus 2 doesn't begin there, so neither will we. Paul begins with grace, moves through present obedience, and then points toward glory. That's the order I don't want us to miss.

The Blessed Hope isn't merely a doctrine to understand. It is a Person we are waiting for.

The Blessed Hope is Yeshua.

How does this help me understand the concept of “The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment?”

Why This Changes the Way We Wait

If the Blessed Hope is a Person and not merely a scenario, then the waiting itself changes.

We don't have to spend our lives trying to make every headline fit somewhere on a prophecy chart. We don't have to wait for the world to get bad enough before we start looking up.

We live faithfully now because we know Who is coming.

Grace has appeared.
Grace is training us right now.
Glory is coming.

The Blessed Hope isn't that we have figured out the future.

The Blessed Hope is Yeshua.

So don't just ask what you believe about the Messiah's return. Ask what that belief is doing in you.

What is shaping the way you live while you wait: fear about what might happen next, or confidence in the One who promised He is coming?

Danny Price 9/1/26 Danny Price 9/1/26

The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment

Blog Series Intention Recap

Paul calls His return our “blessed hope” (Titus 2:13).

The Blessed Hope is a four-week Theology Thursday series exploring Christ’s return for His Church. We’ll look at what Christians are waiting for, what happens when believers are “caught up” to meet the Lord, why I believe Scripture teaches that the Church will be removed before the Tribulation, and how that hope should shape our lives today.

This isn't about setting dates, decoding headlines, or forcing current events onto a prophecy chart.

We are waiting for Jesus.

That expectation gives us comfort when we grieve, courage when the world feels unstable, urgency to share the gospel, and motivation to live faithfully.

The Blessed Hope isn't simply about knowing what happens next.

It's about knowing Who is coming.

This post is the main page of the series “The Blessed Hope: The Church Awaits Christ, Not Judgment.”

Danny Price 8/13/26 Danny Price 8/13/26

Week #2: "My God, My God": Jesus and Psalm 22

Blog Series Intention Recap

Why Prophecy Matters: Promise, Fulfillment, Hope

Bible prophecy often gets treated like a puzzle for decoding the news. This four-week Theology Thursday series steps back to ask why prophecy matters at all. We'll look at what prophecy is, how Psalm 22 pointed to the cross centuries ahead of time, what Christians mean by prophecy today, and how to read the promises God hasn't fulfilled yet.

Along the way, we'll keep seeing that the God who spoke through the prophets keeps His word, and that He kept it most clearly in Yeshua (Jesus).

Because God has faithfully fulfilled His Word in the past, we can trust what He has promised about the future.

This page is a post in the series “Why Prophecy Matters: Promise. Fulfillment. Hope.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #2:

"My God, My God"...

At noon on the day Yeshua was crucified, darkness came over the land. It lasted three hours. Then, near the end, He spoke:

"And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, 'Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?' that is, 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'" (Matthew 27:46, ESV)

Some of the people standing nearby misunderstood Him and thought He was calling for Elijah. Many readers today misunderstand Him differently. They hear only despair, as if Yeshua had lost His grip on God at the very end.

The people who knew their Scriptures would have recognized something else. Those are the opening words of Psalm 22, a psalm David wrote about a thousand years earlier.

Why it Matters:

Yeshua's cry from the cross quotes the first line of Psalm 22, and the parallels with the crucifixion continue well beyond that line.
David wrote the psalm out of his own suffering, but its words reach far beyond anything we know of David's life.
The Gospels record the mocking, the shaking heads, the taunt about trusting God, the thirst, and the divided garments, all described in Psalm 22.
The psalm turns at verse 21 from suffering to rescue, and it ends with worship spreading to Israel, the nations, and generations yet unborn.
Yeshua's cry was real anguish, and it was also an act of trust. He still called God "my God."
The cross was part of God's plan, announced long before Calvary.

Go Deeper:

When Yeshua cried out from the cross, He was quoting Scripture. His words send every reader back to a psalm that had described His suffering in remarkable detail long before it happened.

Psalm 22 also keeps going after the suffering. It moves from abandonment to rescue, and from one man's lament to worship among Israel and the nations. If we stop at the first line, we miss where the psalm is heading. We also miss one of Scripture's clearest demonstrations that the cross was part of God's plan from the beginning.

David's Psalm

Psalm 22 carries David's name in its heading. It reads like the prayer of a man at the end of his strength, surrounded by enemies and unable to sense God's help.

The New Testament also calls David a prophet. On the day of Pentecost, Peter explained that David was speaking about the Messiah:

"Being therefore a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn with an oath to him that he would set one of his descendants on his throne, he foresaw and spoke about the resurrection of the Christ" (Acts 2:30–31, ESV)

Peter was talking about a different psalm, but the principle helps us here. David wrote out of real experiences in his own life. Yet Psalm 22 reaches further than anything we know of David's life, and the New Testament reads it as a description of the suffering and victory of David's greater Son.

Mocked and Surrounded

After the opening cry, David describes public humiliation:

"But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by mankind and despised by the people. All who see me mock me; they make mouths at me; they wag their heads; 'He trusts in the LORD; let him deliver him; let him rescue him, for he delights in him!'" (Psalm 22:6–8, ESV)

Now read Matthew's account of the crowd at the cross:

"And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads" (Matthew 27:39, ESV)

The chief priests, scribes, and elders joined in. Among their taunts was this one:

"He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he desires him." (Matthew 27:43, ESV)

These were men who knew the Psalms well. They mocked Yeshua in words that closely echo Psalm 22:8, apparently without realizing they were fulfilling the psalm as they spoke.

Poured Out Like Water

David then describes his suffering in physical terms:

"I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast; my strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death." (Psalm 22:14–15, ESV)

David uses vivid physical language for his suffering: he is poured out like water, his strength is gone, his heart melts, and his mouth is dry. Against that background, John's record of Yeshua saying "I thirst" is especially striking (John 19:28, ESV). John connects that moment with the fulfillment of Scripture, although he does not name Psalm 22 specifically.

The next verse reads, "they have pierced my hands and feet" (Psalm 22:16, ESV). The Hebrew text of verse 16 has a well-known textual difficulty, reflected in the ESV footnote. For that reason, we shouldn't make the entire case for Psalm 22, and the crucifixion, depend on this one line. The surrounding parallels are already substantial.

Garments and Lots

Then comes one of the most specific details in the psalm:

"they divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots." (Psalm 22:18, ESV)

All four Gospels mention the soldiers dividing Yeshua's clothes. John gives the fullest account. The soldiers split His garments four ways, but His tunic was seamless, so they didn't tear it and instead gambled for it. John then quotes the psalm directly: the soldiers did this "to fulfill the Scripture" (John 19:24, ESV).

Roman soldiers had no interest in fulfilling Hebrew psalms. They were dividing a dead man's belongings. God had already written what they would do.

The Turn at Verse 21

If Psalm 22 ended at verse 18, it would be one of the darkest passages in the Bible. It doesn't end there.

The sufferer keeps praying: "But you, O LORD, do not be far off! O you my help, come quickly to my aid!" (Psalm 22:19, ESV). Then, in the middle of verse 21, the psalm turns:

"Save me from the mouth of the lion! You have rescued me from the horns of the wild oxen!" (Psalm 22:21, ESV)

The prayer has been answered. And from this point on, the psalm sounds completely different:

"I will tell of your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you: You who fear the LORD, praise him! All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him, and stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel!" (Psalm 22:22–23, ESV)

The man surrounded by mockers now stands among his brothers, leading worship. The book of Hebrews puts verse 22 in Yeshua's own mouth, after His suffering, as He calls those He has saved His brothers (Hebrews 2:11–12).

Then the psalm explains what happened:

"For he has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, and he has not hidden his face from him, but has heard, when he cried to him." (Psalm 22:24, ESV)

The same psalm that begins with "why have you forsaken me?" declares that God heard the cry. This author also thinks this proves the Father did not turn his face away from Yeshua.

From One Man to the Ends of the Earth

The final verses widen far beyond one sufferer. Worship begins in Israel, and it doesn't stop there:

"All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations shall worship before you. For kingship belongs to the LORD, and he rules over the nations." (Psalm 22:27–28, ESV)

God promised Abraham that all the families of the earth would be blessed through him. Psalm 22 shows that promise reaching the nations through the suffering and rescue of this one Person. It also points ahead to the day when all will see God's rule over the nations.

The psalm closes by looking down the generations:

"Posterity shall serve him; it shall be told of the Lord to the coming generation; they shall come and proclaim his righteousness to a people yet unborn, that he has done it." (Psalm 22:30–31, ESV)

The psalm ends, "he has done it." We shouldn't treat that as a direct prediction of Yeshua's "It is finished" (John 19:30, ESV), but the similarity is fitting: Psalm 22 ends with God's work accomplished and proclaimed to generations still to come.

What Was Yeshua Saying?

So what did Yeshua want us to hear when He cried out the opening words of Psalm 22?

First, the anguish was real. We shouldn't soften the cry into a Bible quotation Yeshua recited calmly. On the cross, He bore our sin and endured the judgment our sin deserved. Paul writes, "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin" (2 Corinthians 5:21, ESV). We should let Yeshua's cry carry its full weight without trying to explain more than Scripture tells us.

Second, the cry was an act of trust. Even in the darkness, Yeshua said, "My God." Psalm 22 is the prayer of someone who keeps talking to God when God feels far away. His last words from the cross, as Luke records them, were a prayer of confidence: "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!" (Luke 23:46, ESV).

Third, His words direct us to Psalm 22. Whether everyone standing at the cross recognized the connection or not, Matthew's readers can hardly miss it. Once we turn to the psalm, the parallels continue far beyond its opening line, to a sufferer who is heard, rescued, and surrounded by worship.

How Does This Help Me Understand Psalm 22?

Psalm 22 is David's lament, and the New Testament shows it to be God's prophetic word about the suffering and victory of the Messiah. Its lament anticipated the crucifixion a thousand years ahead of time, down to the taunts of the crowd and the soldiers casting lots. Its second half announced what the cross would lead to: a rescued Sufferer, a people gathered as His brothers, and worship spreading to the ends of the earth.

That means the cross was part of God's plan all along. Scripture pointed to the suffering and victory of the Messiah long before Calvary.

And it brings us back to the big idea of this series: Because God has faithfully fulfilled His Word in the past, we can trust what He has promised about the future. Many of the details in Psalm 22's opening lament found striking fulfillment in a single afternoon outside Jerusalem. Its closing vision continues outward, as people from the nations turn to the Lord, while pointing toward the day when His kingship over the nations will be fully displayed.

Trusting God in the Dark

Read Psalm 22 all the way through. Read it slowly this week, alongside Matthew 27 and John 19. Notice how the Gospel writers draw on it, and then keep reading past verse 21 into the worship at the end.

Bring your laments to God. Psalm 22 gives us permission to be honest with God when He feels far away. Yeshua prayed this psalm in His darkest hour. When you pray in the dark, you can still say "my God," and He still hears (Psalm 22:24).

Let the cross settle your questions about God's plan. The worst thing that ever happened, the crucifixion of the sinless Son of God, was written into God's plan a thousand years ahead of time and turned into the means of our salvation. If God was accomplishing His purpose even at Calvary, then darkness is not evidence that His purposes have failed.

Join the worship Psalm 22 promised. If you belong to Yeshua, you are part of the answer to verse 27, one of the families of the nations who have turned to the Lord. And don't miss the psalm's movement: it calls the offspring of Jacob and Israel to worship, then widens its vision to all the families of the nations. God's plan for the nations does not require us to erase Israel from the story.

Danny Price 8/6/26 Danny Price 8/6/26

Week #1: What Is Prophecy?

Blog Series Intention Recap

Why Prophecy Matters: Promise, Fulfillment, Hope

Along the way, we'll keep seeing that the God who spoke through the prophets keeps His word, and that He kept it most clearly in Yeshua (Jesus).

Because God has faithfully fulfilled His Word in the past, we can trust what He has promised about the future.

This page is a post in the series “Why Prophecy Matters: Promise. Fulfillment. Hope.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #1:

"What Is Prophecy?"...

Say the words "Bible prophecy" and many people picture charts, headlines, and someone online matching verses to last week's news. Some Christians love that kind of thing. Others avoid prophecy altogether because of it. Both reactions usually rest on the same assumption: that prophecy is mainly about predicting the future.

Scripture gives us a much larger picture. So before we ask why prophecy matters, we need to ask what it actually is.

Why it Matters:

Biblical prophecy is God's message spoken through a human messenger. It often includes prediction, but it is much more than prediction.
Much biblical prophecy addressed the prophet's own generation. Some of it reached far beyond that generation.
God gave Israel a simple test for prophets: what a true prophet says in God's name comes to pass, and a true prophet never leads people away from the Lord.
God points to His own record of declaring and accomplishing the future as evidence that He alone is God.
The Old Testament's promises about the Messiah were fulfilled in specific, concrete ways in Yeshua.
Fulfilled prophecy gives us solid reason to trust Scripture, including the promises still waiting to be fulfilled.

Go Deeper:

If prophecy is only prediction, the Bible starts to look like a book of riddles, and the goal becomes cracking the code. When we see prophecy the way Scripture presents it, the goal changes. Prophecy is one of the main ways God shows that He can be trusted. He announces what He will do, and then He does it, often centuries later and in ways no one could have arranged.

Every promise God has already fulfilled gives us reason to trust the promises still awaiting fulfillment. The apostle Peter, who saw Yeshua's glory on the mountain with his own eyes, still pointed his readers to the written prophetic word as the lamp to steer by.

Prophecy Begins with God Speaking

The most common Hebrew word for prophet, navi, describes someone who speaks on another's behalf. We see this clearly when God sends Moses to Pharaoh and appoints Moses' brother to speak for him:

"And the LORD said to Moses, 'See, I have made you like God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron shall be your prophet.'" (Exodus 7:1, ESV)

Aaron would carry Moses' words. In the same way, a prophet of the Lord carries God's words. God describes the role this way: "I will put my words in his mouth, and he shall speak to them all that I command him" (Deuteronomy 18:18, ESV).

Peter makes the same point about the whole prophetic portion of Scripture:

"For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit." (2 Peter 1:21, ESV)

That means prophecy starts with revelation. A prophet didn't study trends and make an educated guess. God spoke, and the prophet delivered the message.

Much of what the prophets said was aimed at their own people in their own day. Isaiah, Jeremiah, Amos, and the others confronted idolatry, exposed injustice, and called Israel back to the covenant. The prophets spoke about judgment and restoration, Israel and the nations, Messiah and His kingdom.

Bible teachers sometimes call the present-day side of their message "forthtelling," speaking God's word into the present. Prediction, or "foretelling," was woven into that message. Some predictions came true within the prophet's lifetime, like warnings of coming exile. Others reached hundreds of years ahead. Many are still waiting.

A Test Only God Could Pass

Once God promised to keep speaking through prophets, Israel had an obvious question: how do we tell a true prophet from a false one? Moses anticipated it:

"when a prophet speaks in the name of the LORD, if the word does not come to pass or come true, that is a word that the LORD has not spoken; the prophet has spoken it presumptuously. You need not be afraid of him." (Deuteronomy 18:22, ESV)

When a prophet claimed to predict something in the LORD's name, the standard was complete accuracy. Deuteronomy also makes clear that a true prophet could never lead Israel away from the God who had already revealed Himself (Deuteronomy 13:1–5).

God then points to His own record of declaring and accomplishing the future as evidence that He alone is God. In Isaiah, He challenges the idols of the nations to do what only the true God can do: "Tell us what is to come hereafter, that we may know that you are gods" (Isaiah 41:23, ESV). They can't. Then God describes Himself:

"Remember the former things of old; for I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, 'My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose,'" (Isaiah 46:9–10, ESV)

He declares what will happen, and then He accomplishes it. Isaiah even named Cyrus as the ruler who would see Jerusalem and the temple rebuilt (Isaiah 44:28; 45:1), well over a century before Cyrus issued his decree. Long before that, by the time Israel had entered the Promised Land, Joshua could already look back and say:

"Not one word of all the good promises that the LORD had made to the house of Israel had failed; all came to pass." (Joshua 21:45, ESV)

The Prophet Like Moses

In the same chapter that gives the test for prophets, Moses makes a promise:

"The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brothers" (Deuteronomy 18:15, ESV)

Israel waited a long time for that Prophet. Many prophets came after Moses, but the last chapter of Deuteronomy says plainly that none of them measured up: "And there has not arisen a prophet since in Israel like Moses, whom the LORD knew face to face" (Deuteronomy 34:10, ESV). Centuries later, people were still asking about it. When John the Baptist began preaching, the religious leaders asked him directly, "Are you the Prophet?" (John 1:21, ESV). He said no.

After Yeshua's resurrection, Peter stood in the temple and answered the question:

"Moses said, 'The Lord God will raise up for you a prophet like me from your brothers. You shall listen to him in whatever he tells you.'" (Acts 3:22, ESV)

The passage that defines what a prophet is also points to the greatest Prophet of all. Prophecy was always heading toward a Person.

Promises with Names and Places

The prophecies about the Messiah are not vague, and many are concrete enough to check.

Where He would be born. Seven centuries before Yeshua, Micah named a small town:

"But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days." (Micah 5:2, ESV)

When the wise men arrived in Jerusalem asking about the newborn King, Herod's scholars didn't need to research the question. They answered immediately: "In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it is written by the prophet" (Matthew 2:5, ESV). No one gets to choose where he is born.

How He would be born. Isaiah promised a sign: "Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel" (Isaiah 7:14, ESV). Matthew tells us that Yeshua's birth to Mary happened "to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet" (Matthew 1:22, ESV).

How He would come to Jerusalem. Zechariah told the city what to watch for:

"Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey." (Zechariah 9:9, ESV)

Kings arrived on warhorses. Yeshua rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, and the crowds greeted Him as the Son of David (Matthew 21:4–9).

Why He would suffer. Isaiah 53 describes a Servant who is rejected, wounded, and killed for the sins of others:

"But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed." (Isaiah 53:5, ESV)

In Acts 8, an Ethiopian official was reading this very chapter in his chariot and asked Philip the obvious question: "About whom, I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?" (Acts 8:34, ESV). Philip had the answer: "beginning with this Scripture he told him the good news about Jesus" (Acts 8:35, ESV).

There are many more, and one of the most striking, Psalm 22, deserves a post of its own. Again and again, the New Testament presents real events in Yeshua's life as fulfillments of what God had spoken through Israel's prophets. Bethlehem was a real town, the donkey was a real donkey, and the wounds were real wounds.

Yeshua Read the Scriptures This Way

On the day of His resurrection, Yeshua walked with two disappointed disciples who couldn't make sense of the cross. He didn't start by showing them His hands. He started with the Bible:

"And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself." (Luke 24:27, ESV)

Peter learned that lesson well. Preaching in Jerusalem, he said, "But what God foretold by the mouth of all the prophets, that his Christ would suffer, he thus fulfilled" (Acts 3:18, ESV). For Yeshua and Peter, the connection was clear: the prophets had been pointing toward the Messiah all along.

How Does This Help Me Understand “What is Prophecy”?

Biblical prophecy is God's revelation, spoken through messengers He chose, calling people back to Himself and announcing what He will do. Sometimes it confronted the prophet's own generation. Sometimes it looked centuries ahead. And running through that prophetic message is its great center: the Messiah.

So how can fulfilled prophecy strengthen our confidence in Scripture? It gives us a track record. Israel had God's record to look back on. Names, places, promises, and fulfillments gave them concrete reasons to trust His Word. We have that same record, and it runs all the way to Yeshua.

That's why the big idea of this series matters: Because God has faithfully fulfilled His Word in the past, we can trust what He has promised about the future. Peter called the prophetic word "a lamp shining in a dark place" (2 Peter 1:19, ESV).

Trusting the God Who Keeps His Word

Read the Old Testament expecting to meet the Messiah. Yeshua taught His disciples to read Moses and the Prophets with Him at the center. When you read Isaiah, Micah, or Zechariah, ask what the passage shows you about the One who was coming.

Let God's record steady your faith. Doubts come to all of us, sometimes about Scripture and sometimes about whether God will come through in our own lives. The fulfilled promises of the Bible are there to be remembered. The God who brought His Son to Bethlehem, as He said He would, is the same God you are trusting today.

Keep prophecy in its proper place. Prophecy was given to make us confident in God, not to turn us into headline interpreters. When our study of prophecy makes us arrogant, obsessed with dates, or chronically fearful instead of more confident in God, something has gone wrong. When it leaves you trusting God more, it's doing what He intended.

Trust the promises still waiting. Some of what God has spoken hasn't happened yet. The Messiah will return, and God will finish everything He has promised. Joshua could say that not one of God's good words had failed. We can read the rest of the story with the same confidence, because the One making the promises has never missed.

Pay attention to what God promised Israel. The prophets did not speak about Israel merely to give us illustrations for the Christian life. God made real promises to a real people, and some of those promises still await fulfillment. As this series continues, watch what God's faithfulness to Israel teaches us about His character. God's faithfulness to His promises to Israel gives us every reason to trust that He will keep His word to us.

God doesn't just know the future. He tells us about it, and then He keeps His word.

Danny Price 8/4/26 Danny Price 8/4/26

Book of the Month - August 2026

Ready Player One

Ernest Cline - ISBN: 978-0307887436 - 2011

Author:

Ernest Cline

Ernest Cline is an internationally best-selling novelist, screenwriter, father, and full-time geek. He is the author of the novels Ready Player One and Armada and co-screenwriter of the film adaptation of Ready Player One, directed by Steven Spielberg. His books have been published in over fifty countries and have spent more than 100 weeks on The New York Times Best Sellers list. He lives in Austin, Texas, with his family, a time-traveling DeLorean, and a large collection of classic video games.

Taken from amazon.com

Brief Synopsis:

A world at stake. A quest for the ultimate prize. Are you ready?

In the year 2045, reality is an ugly place. The only time Wade Watts really feels alive is when he’s jacked into the OASIS, a vast virtual world where most of humanity spends their days.

When the eccentric creator of the OASIS dies, he leaves behind a series of fiendish puzzles, based on his obsession with the pop culture of decades past. Whoever is first to solve them will inherit his vast fortune—and control of the OASIS itself.

Then Wade cracks the first clue. Suddenly he’s beset by rivals who’ll kill to take this prize. The race is on—and the only way to survive is to win.

Taken from amazon.com

Insights:

“Being human totally sucks most of the time. Videogames are the only thing that make life bearable.”

“One person can keep a secret, but not two.”

“That was when I realized, as terrifying and painful as reality can be, it’s also the only place where you can find true happiness. Because reality is real.”

“I was watching a collection of vintage '80s cereal commercials when I paused to wonder why cereal manufacturers no longer included toy prizes inside every box. It was a tragedy, in my opinion. Another sign that civilization was going straight down the tubes.”

Should I read it or skip it?

As an 80s kid who spent countless hours in arcades, wore out Nintendo controllers, and later lost more evenings than I'd like to admit playing World of Warcraft, Ready Player One felt like it was written for me. Ernest Cline packed the story with references to the movies, music, games, and pop culture that shaped my childhood, but somehow it never felt like a gimmick. Instead, it felt like a celebration of a generation that grew up watching technology transform the world. More than once, I found myself smiling because I remembered the exact game, movie, or song being referenced.

What surprised me most was that beneath all the nostalgia is a genuinely fun adventure story. The OASIS felt familiar to anyone who has spent years in online gaming communities. The friendships, rivalries, guild-like teamwork, and the sense of belonging all reminded me of my years in Azeroth. While some of the references may be lost on younger readers, for those of us who grew up in the 80s and later embraced gaming culture, this book hits a sweet spot.

The film changes many of the challenges, removes much of the deeper 1980s trivia, and streamlines the story for a broader audience. That's understandable, but the book provides a richer experience and allows readers to appreciate Halliday's obsession with 80s culture in a way the movie simply can't. I also went into this book knowing that Ready Player Two received far less enthusiasm from readers.

Ready Player One reminds me of logging into the first day of the new “Wrath of the Lich King” expansion on launch day and realizing I was about to lose an entire weekend. It's fun, imaginative, and full of heart. If you've ever camped a rare spawn, spent hours chasing an achievement, or smiled at the sound of an old arcade game firing up, there's a good chance you'll enjoy this one.

Danny Price 8/1/26 Danny Price 8/1/26

Why Prophecy Matters: Promise. Fulfillment. Hope.

Blog Series Intention Recap

Why Prophecy Matters: Promise, Fulfillment, Hope

Along the way, we'll keep seeing that the God who spoke through the prophets keeps His word, and that He kept it most clearly in Yeshua (Jesus).

Because God has faithfully fulfilled His Word in the past, we can trust what He has promised about the future.

This post is the main page of the series “Why Prophecy Matters: Promise. Fulfillment. Hope.”

Danny Price 7/30/26 Danny Price 7/30/26

Week #3 - What Happens to the Bread?: Transubstantiation, Consubstantiation, and Symbolism

Blog Series Intention Recap

At the Table: Understanding Communion from Passover to the Church

This Fifth Thursday series slows readers down at a table they think they already understand. Communion is one of the most practiced and least examined acts in the Church. Familiarity has made it efficient—but often shallow. This series invites us to recover depth, context, and meaning.

This series is not written to win arguments, flatten mystery, or introduce novelty. It is written to help believers come to the table with understanding, humility, and gratitude—recognizing that every time we eat the bread and drink the cup, we proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.

This page is a post in the series “At the Table.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #3:

“What Happens to the Bread?”…

Ask a Catholic, a Lutheran, a Presbyterian, and a Baptist what happens at communion, and you will hear four different answers, offered by people who love the same Messiah, Yeshua (Jesus), and often the same apostle Paul. It is tempting to treat those answers as a scoreboard. This post does something different. Week 2 argued that Yeshua’s words are best heard first within their Jewish, Passover, and biblical setting. Week 3 asks the historical question: how did the Church move from one upper room to centuries of debate? The goal is not to decide who is wrong. It is to understand how we got here, to describe each view in words its own members would recognize, and to let Scripture keep the last word.

Why it Matters:

Christians who love the same Messiah answer “What happens to the bread?” differently, and the reasons are historical as well as biblical.
The New Testament gives us words like remembrance, proclamation, and fellowship. The scholastic vocabulary of “substance” came centuries later.
Each major view developed, at least in part, from an attempt to safeguard something its adherents understood Scripture to teach, which is why charity is not optional.
Hebrews’ “once for all” language shapes the question of sacrifice, and Catholic teaching itself says the Mass is not a new sacrifice, so the real question is what “making present” means.

Go Deeper:

Where Everyone Starts

Every tradition can begin with Paul:

“The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.” (1 Corinthians 10:16–17, ESV)

The Greek word behind “participation” is koinōnia, meaning sharing or fellowship. None of the major Christian traditions considered here treats this meal as empty. The disagreement is about how the Messiah is present, what the elements are, and what believers receive at the table, not about whether the table matters. (Week 4 returns to what this fellowship does in the life of the church.)

The Early Church: Strong Words, Later Categories

Ignatius of Antioch, writing around AD 110, could call the Eucharist the flesh of the Savior. Justin Martyr, in the mid-second century, said believers do not receive it as common bread or common drink. Yet Tertullian and Augustine could also speak of the bread as a “figure” or “sign” of the body.

These writers leave us something less tidy than our later denominational categories. They could speak strongly about receiving the Messiah’s body and blood while also using the language of signs and figures. For them, “symbol” and “reality” were not necessarily opposites in the way later debates sometimes made them. What we do not yet find is the later scholastic explanation of how the Messiah is present through a change of substance. Their emphasis often falls instead on thanksgiving (the word Eucharist means “thanksgiving”), sharing, unity, and the holiness of the meal.

The Didache, one of the earliest Christian writings outside the New Testament, prays that as the broken bread was scattered on the hills and gathered into one, so the church would be gathered into God’s kingdom.

That prayer also reminds us that the earliest Christians did not come to the table looking only backward. The table carried a future hope: God’s scattered people gathered into His kingdom. We will return to that expectation in Week 5.

So how did one table produce so many explanations?

When the Question Changed

The question of how came into sharper focus in the ninth century, when Paschasius Radbertus and Ratramnus debated whether the bread is the same body born of Mary or a mystery that points to it. Over the following centuries, the Church looked for precise vocabulary.

By the early thirteenth century, the Western Church was already using the language of transubstantiation. The Fourth Lateran Council used the term in 1215. Later in that century, Thomas Aquinas gave the doctrine its classic scholastic explanation using Aristotelian categories of substance and accidents. Substance describes what a thing is; accidents describe its observable characteristics, such as appearance, taste, and texture. Aquinas argued that at consecration the substance of the bread and wine becomes the body and blood of the Messiah while their appearances remain. The Council of Trent reaffirmed and defined transubstantiation in 1551, during the Reformation.

Notice the order. The doctrine came before Aquinas’s famous philosophical explanation of it. That is a useful check against an overly easy story in which Greek philosophy simply created transubstantiation. Aristotle’s works were being recovered in the Latin West during these same centuries, and they shaped the language in which the doctrine was explained.

To be fair to the Catholic tradition, the doctrine sought to affirm the reality of the Messiah’s presence while avoiding both a crude physical understanding and a merely symbolic one. Catholic teaching distinguishes this change from an ordinary physical transformation: the appearances of bread and wine remain while their underlying reality is said to change.

And notice how late the precise vocabulary is. Nearly twelve centuries separate the Upper Room from Lateran IV’s use of the term transubstantiated. That does not mean Christians spent those centuries treating the bread and cup as bare symbols. Far from it. Christians used remarkably strong language about the table long before transubstantiation was formally defined. The important distinction is that the practice and theological conviction came before the precise philosophical explanation.

The Reformation: Same Question, Different Answers

Martin Luther insisted that “This is my body” be taken at face value. But in The Babylonian Captivity of the Church (1520) he rejected transubstantiation as an imposition of Aristotle on Scripture. In Lutheran teaching the bread and wine remain bread and wine, while the Messiah’s true body and blood are sacramentally present and received with them. Lutherans generally reject the label “consubstantiation,” preferring to speak of sacramental union, since “consubstantiation” suggests a blending of substances they never taught.

Huldrych Zwingli read “is” as “signifies” and understood the Supper mainly as commemoration. At the Marburg Colloquy in 1529, Luther and Zwingli agreed on fourteen of fifteen articles and parted over this one. The Reformation was divided at the table.

John Calvin offered a distinct Reformed account. The Supper is not a bare memorial, and it is not a physical presence. Believers truly feed on the Messiah by the Holy Spirit, who lifts our hearts to Him in heaven. Reformed confessions speak of receiving Him “really and indeed,” but spiritually, not carnally.

Baptist and many Evangelical churches often hold a memorial view and call communion an ordinance. “Symbolic” need not mean “empty” there. It means obedience, remembrance, and public proclamation.

  
      Tradition 
      What happens?  
      Central concern 
    
      Roman Catholic 
      The substance of bread and wine becomes the Messiah’s body and blood while their appearances remain 
      The true, real presence of the Messiah
    
      Lutheran
      Bread and wine remain; the Messiah’s body and blood are truly received sacramentally 
      His promise: “This is my body” 
 
      Reformed
      Bread and wine remain; believers truly commune with the ascended Messiah through the Spirit 
      Real spiritual communion with the Messiah
     
      Baptist / Evangelical
      Bread and cup remain signs  
      Remembrance, proclamation, obedience

Same bread. Same cup. Same words of Yeshua. Very different explanations of what is happening at the table.

Eastern Orthodox Christians, not covered here at length, likewise affirm a real change of the bread and wine into the Messiah’s body and blood while generally placing greater emphasis on mystery than on defining precisely how that change occurs.

The Hard Question: What About Sacrifice?

But the differences involve more than what happens to bread and wine. For Protestants especially, the sharpest question concerns sacrifice. Hebrews says the Messiah has appeared “once for all at the end of the ages to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself” (Hebrews 9:26, ESV). It contrasts Him with priests who stand daily offering the same sacrifices:

“But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God” (Hebrews 10:12, ESV)

“For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.” (Hebrews 10:14, ESV)

Catholic teaching does not say the Mass is a new sacrifice. It says the sacrifice of the cross and the sacrifice of the Eucharist are one and the same sacrifice, differing in the manner of offering, and that the Mass makes the one offering of Calvary present. It holds that this fits Hebrews because the Mass shares in that one offering and does not add to it. Protestants generally reject the idea that the Supper makes the Messiah’s sacrifice present in the Catholic sacrificial sense. They point instead to Hebrews’ emphasis that His offering for sin was completed once for all, and to the contrast between priests who keep standing and repeating and a Messiah who sat down because the work is finished.

This series finds Hebrews’ emphasis on the finished work hard to miss. But the goal is to describe the other view well enough that a Catholic friend would say, “Yes, that is what I believe.”

How does this help me understand the concept of “At The Table”?

Why the Church Still Disagrees

None of these traditions invented communion to be difficult. Each developed, at least in part, from an attempt to safeguard something it understood Scripture to teach. Catholic and Lutheran teaching sought to guard the conviction that the table is no empty ceremony. Reformed teaching sought to guard real communion with the ascended Messiah. Memorial traditions sought to guard the finished, once-for-all sufficiency of the cross. Whether each resulting doctrine succeeded is part of the debate we have inherited.

Coming to the Table with Clarity

Understanding this history should make us slower to caricature one another and quicker to return to Scripture.

Before asking what another tradition gets wrong, ask what it is trying to protect. Before defending the label you inherited, ask whether you can explain it from the text. And before importing centuries of Christian debate into the Upper Room, remember where the table began.

Transubstantiation, sacramental union, spiritual presence, and memorialism are all later attempts to explain a meal Yeshua first shared with Jewish disciples at Passover.

Israel’s story still sits underneath the table.

We need the Exodus to understand redemption. We need Passover to understand the meal. We need the covenants to understand the cup. And we need Israel’s Messiah to understand why the bread was broken.

So take time to read Exodus 12, Luke 22, Hebrews 9–10, and 1 Corinthians 10–11 together. As you read, resist the temptation to begin with a denominational label. Begin with the biblical story. Notice how Israel’s Exodus, Passover, covenants, and Messiah give the table its vocabulary before later Christians begin explaining what happens to the bread.

Communion was given for the Church to gather around, not to fight over.

And whatever else we believe happens to the bread, we should never forget the story that brought us to the table in the first place.

Danny Price 7/23/26 Danny Price 7/23/26

Week #4: Serve and Wait

Blog Series Intention Recap

City on a Hill: Living Out Your Faith

Yeshua (Jesus) told His followers, "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden" (Matthew 5:14, ESV). Our faith was never meant to stay hidden.

City on a Hill is a four-week Theology Thursday series about what it means to live faithfully in the world while we wait for Yeshua to return. The Church has a unique place in God's plan in this present age. We are not here to build the promised kingdom, replace Israel, or retreat from a world that desperately needs the gospel. We are here to follow Yeshua, make disciples, love our neighbors, do good, and make the truth of the gospel visible through the way we live.

The world should not only hear what Christians believe. It should be able to see the difference our faith makes.

This page is a post in the series “City on a Hill: Living out Your Faith.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #4:

"Serve and Wait"...

Not long after Paul left Thessalonica, he found he had very little to tell people about the church there. They had already heard.

"Your faith in God has gone forth everywhere," he wrote to them, "so that we need not say anything" (1 Thessalonians 1:8, ESV). Travelers passing through Macedonia and Achaia were telling the story themselves: how these believers "turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God, and to wait for his Son from heaven" (1 Thessalonians 1:9–10, ESV).

That young church, planted in a few short weeks and under pressure from the start, had become a city on a hill. And what people noticed about them came down to three verbs: turned, serve, and wait.

The last two belong together. We live faithfully now because we know this present age will not last forever.

Why it Matters:

The Thessalonian believers became known for three things: they turned to God, they served Him, and they waited for His Son.
Paul calls this time "the present age" (Titus 2:12), and it won't last forever.
When the disciples asked about restoring the kingdom to Israel, Yeshua left the times and seasons with the Father and turned their attention to the work ahead.
The kingdom will be set up by God, "by no human hand" (Daniel 2:45).
Waiting never excused idleness in the New Testament, and work done for the Lord is "not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:58).
Peter tied the Messiah's return to the fulfillment of what God spoke through Israel's prophets (Acts 3:21).

Go Deeper:

Waiting can pull Christians in opposite directions.

Some Christians begin to treat this age as though it were the kingdom we're waiting for. If Yeshua's return is far off or hard to picture, the work in front of us starts to look like the whole story. It becomes easy to pour our hopes into cultural influence, political victories, or movements that promise to finally set things right. Without anyone quite saying so, the promised kingdom becomes something we're expected to build.

Others lean so hard on the future that the present stops mattering. The world is falling apart anyway, and the Lord is coming soon, so why invest in neighbors, jobs, or the long, slow work of discipleship?

Scripture corrects both. The kingdom is coming, and God will bring it. Until He does, His people have work to do.

A Church People Talked About

Thessalonica was a hard place to start a church. Paul and Silas were there only a short time before opposition forced them out of town at night (Acts 17:1–10). The new believers "received the word in much affliction, with the joy of the Holy Spirit" (1 Thessalonians 1:6, ESV).

Even so, they "became an example to all the believers in Macedonia and in Achaia" (1 Thessalonians 1:7, ESV). Word of what God was doing in them spread faster than Paul could report it. He didn't need to tell anyone about the Thessalonians. People told him.

Visible faith in the New Testament looked like this. A group of ordinary people had changed so plainly that others couldn't help talking about it.

Turned, Serve, Wait

The report had three parts.

They turned. They "turned to God from idols." For people raised in a city full of temples and household gods, that could mean a very public break with the religious life they had always known. Turning happened once, and it changed everything after it.

They served. They turned "to serve the living and true God." Their faith went to work immediately. Paul thanks God for their "work of faith and labor of love" (1 Thessalonians 1:3, ESV).

They waited. They turned "to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come" (1 Thessalonians 1:10, ESV). (The deliverance in that verse was a major focus of the series "The Blessed Hope.")

Serving and waiting are both ongoing. Paul doesn't picture the Thessalonians serving until they got tired and then switching to waiting, or waiting so intently that they stopped serving. They did both at once, and the combination is what made them stand out.

"The Present Age"

Paul has a phrase for the time we're living in. Writing to Titus, he says God's grace trains us "to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age" (Titus 2:12, ESV), and the very next words describe believers as "waiting for our blessed hope" (Titus 2:13, ESV).

Paul's wording reminds us that the world as we know it isn't permanent. The Church lives within this present age, in the period between Pentecost and Yeshua's return, when believers are called to live godly lives while waiting for Him. Beyond this present order lies the kingdom God promised long ago.

That changes how believers see their circumstances. The pressures of this age are real, but they aren't permanent. And the opportunities of this age, including the chance to make the gospel known to people who haven't heard it, won't last forever either.

A Question on the Mount of Olives

Just before Yeshua ascended, His disciples asked Him one more question:

"Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?" (Acts 1:6, ESV)

They had spent forty days listening to Him teach about the kingdom (Acts 1:3). Their question assumes the kingdom will be restored to Israel in the future. Yeshua doesn't tell them that expectation is mistaken. Instead, He tells them that the times and seasons belong to the Father's authority, then turns their attention to the work immediately ahead:

"It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth." (Acts 1:7–8, ESV)

The kingdom is coming, and its timing belongs to the Father. In the meantime, the disciples have a job: to be His witnesses, starting where they are and moving outward.

Then He was taken up, and while they stood staring into the sky, two men in white asked them, "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven" (Acts 1:11, ESV).

That short scene holds the whole shape of this age. The King will return. The kingdom promised to Israel will come. The timing is God's. And the people waiting for Him aren't meant to stand still.

Two Wrong Turns

Seen from Acts 1, the two errors from the start of this post look different.

The first error tries to produce what Scripture says God will establish. Daniel saw God's kingdom as a stone "cut from a mountain by no human hand" that breaks the kingdoms of this world and "shall stand forever" (Daniel 2:44–45, ESV). The kingdom Scripture promises arrives when God establishes it. Believers can do a great deal of good in their cities and nations, and they should. None of it turns a city into the kingdom, and none of it replaces the return of the King.

The second error quits working because the end is near. Paul faced this in Thessalonica itself. After writing so warmly about their waiting, he later had to correct some who had stopped working altogether: "we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies." He told them "to do their work quietly and to earn their own living" (2 Thessalonians 3:11–12, ESV).

Waiting for Yeshua was never meant to make believers idle. As Paul says elsewhere, believers can abound in the Lord's work because their labor "is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:58, ESV).

How Does This Help Me Understand "Serve and Wait"?

We live faithfully now because we know this present age will not last forever. The Thessalonians served and waited at the same time, and people noticed. Yeshua told His disciples the kingdom's timing belonged to the Father and then sent them out as witnesses. Paul told believers that their labor in the Lord would not be wasted.

That brings this series to its last word. The world should not only hear what Christians believe. It should be able to see the difference our faith makes. A city on a hill is visible for a reason. Its lights are meant to be seen until morning comes.

For believers today, that means holding two things at once. The promised kingdom belongs to the future, when the King returns, and God fulfills everything He spoke through His prophets. The present age belongs to faithful work: turning from our idols, serving the living God, making disciples, doing good, and speaking the gospel. We don't build the kingdom, and we don't wait for it with folded hands. We serve until He comes.

Serving While We Wait

Ask what people would report about you. Travelers told stories about the Thessalonians. If people who know you described your faith, would they mention both serving and waiting? Would they mention either one?

Name your idols. The Thessalonians' faith began with turning. Ask God to show you what still competes with Him for your trust: money, reputation, comfort, or a political outcome. Name it honestly, and turn your trust back toward Him.

Pick up the work in front of you. If the Lord's return feels like a reason to coast, take 1 Corinthians 15:58 at its word. Choose one piece of faithful work this week, at home, at your job, or in your church, and do it well because it matters to Him.

Hold your hopes in the right order. Care about your city and your country, and pray for them. Don't mistake any earthly victory for the kingdom, and don't let any earthly loss convince you the kingdom isn't coming.

Pray with the disciples' question in mind. The disciples asked about the kingdom and Israel, and Yeshua left the timing with the Father. Peter later preached to Israel that heaven must receive the Messiah "until the time for restoring all the things about which God spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets long ago" (Acts 3:21, ESV). The return of Yeshua is therefore tied to the fulfillment of what God spoke through Israel's prophets. Read Acts 1:6–11 and Acts 3:19–21 this week. Pray for Jewish people to recognize their Messiah, and thank God that the promises He made to Israel have not been forgotten.

The present age will end. The King will come back the same way He left. Until He comes, keep the lights on.

Danny Price 7/16/26 Danny Price 7/16/26

Week #3: Faithful in a World That Isn't

Blog Series Intention Recap

City on a Hill: Living Out Your Faith

Yeshua (Jesus) told His followers, "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden" (Matthew 5:14, ESV). Our faith was never meant to stay hidden.

The world should not only hear what Christians believe. It should be able to see the difference our faith makes.

This page is a post in the series “City on a Hill: Living out Your Faith.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #3:

"Faithful in a World That Isn't"...

Ask a room full of Christians what should make believers stand out, and you'll hear plenty of good answers. Honesty. Sexual purity. Generosity. Going to church. Standing up for what's right.

Paul's answer in Philippians 2 comes as a surprise. Before he says anything about shining as lights in the world, he says this: "Do all things without grumbling or disputing" (Philippians 2:14, ESV).

That's where he starts. It sounds small until you try it for a day.

Why it Matters:

Philippian believers knew what it meant to live as citizens of one place while living in another.
Paul's first mark of a distinct life is surprisingly ordinary: doing all things without grumbling or disputing.
In Philippians 2:15, Paul borrows language from the Song of Moses to describe the setting in which believers are called to shine.
Believers shine "in the midst" of a crooked generation, among the people God has placed them near.
The light is tied to "the word of life," which believers hold fast.
The same Song of Moses ends with the nations rejoicing alongside God's people Israel, and Paul quotes it that way.

Go Deeper:

Most believers can feel the distance growing between their convictions and the culture around them. That distance produces pressure, and the pressure usually pushes us in one of two directions.

Some of us pull back. We shrink our world down to church friends and Christian media and keep the rest at arm's length. Others stay in the middle of things but spend a lot of energy complaining about how bad things have gotten, arguing online, and treating the people around us mainly as opponents.

Philippians 2 speaks to both. Paul calls believers to be different, placing them squarely "in the midst" of the people around them. Christians are called to live differently without withdrawing from the people around us.

A City That Knew About Citizenship

Philippi was a Roman colony. Many residents were proud of their Roman citizenship, even though they lived hundreds of miles from Rome. They followed Roman law and Roman customs in the middle of Macedonia.

That background shows up in the letter. In chapter 1, Paul writes, "Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ" (Philippians 1:27, ESV), and the Greek behind it could be translated, "Only behave as citizens worthy of the gospel." Later he reminds them, "But our citizenship is in heaven" (Philippians 3:20, ESV).

The Philippian believers would have understood the picture. They lived and worked in Philippi, but their highest allegiance lay somewhere else. Their citizenship was in heaven, and that allegiance shaped the way they lived right where God had placed them.

Worked Out Where People Can See

Just before our passage, Paul writes, "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Philippians 2:12–13, ESV).

These are people who are already saved. Paul calls them "my beloved" and thanks God for their "partnership in the gospel" from the first day (Philippians 1:5, ESV). Verse 12 is about living out a salvation they already have, and verse 13 explains how that's possible. God is at work in them, shaping both what they want and what they do.

Then Paul gets specific, and the first specific thing he mentions is our mouths.

Starting With Our Mouths

"Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world." (Philippians 2:14–15, ESV)

Grumbling is the low complaint that grows when we're unhappy with our circumstances or with one another. Disputing involves arguing or questioning. Both can show up in familiar ways: complaining about our leaders, our church, our job, or the direction of the world, and turning disagreements into battles we feel we have to win.

Neither one looks especially wicked. Both are so normal that we hardly notice them. Paul's instruction is searching for exactly that reason. A believer who complains about everything the way everyone else does, and argues the way everyone else argues, sounds a lot like everyone else.

Outsiders aren't Paul's only concern. The church in Philippi had its own disagreements. Near the end of the letter, he pleads with two women, Euodia and Syntyche, "to agree in the Lord" (Philippians 4:2, ESV). A church full of grumbling and disputing struggles to shine anywhere.

Grateful, even-tempered people stand out. When complaining is normal and every disagreement seems to become a fight, a believer who responds differently gets noticed.

Words Borrowed From Moses

The phrase "a crooked and twisted generation" comes straight from the Song of Moses, near the end of Deuteronomy. There Moses praises God as "the Rock, his work is perfect," and then describes a faithless generation of Israel: "they are no longer his children because they are blemished; they are a crooked and twisted generation" (Deuteronomy 32:4–5, ESV).

Paul reaches back to those words and uses them to describe the setting in which the Philippian believers are called to shine. In Deuteronomy, Moses was describing Israel's unfaithfulness. In Philippians, Paul uses that familiar language as he calls God's children to live faithfully in a crooked and twisted generation.

That doesn't mean Paul is saying the Church has taken Israel's place. He is drawing on Israel's Scriptures to describe the kind of faithfulness God desires from His people. And the Song of Moses itself still looks ahead to God's faithfulness to Israel.

In the Midst

Notice where Paul says this light shines: "in the midst of" a crooked and twisted generation. He doesn't picture believers shining from a safe distance. They shine "among whom," among the very people whose generation he has just called crooked.

Yeshua prayed the same way for His disciples the night before the cross: "I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one" (John 17:15, ESV). A few verses later He added, "As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world" (John 17:18, ESV).

The Old Testament gives a vivid picture of this kind of life. Daniel served in the Babylonian court for decades. He lived under a pagan king, did his job with excellence, and never stopped praying to the God of Israel. When his rivals looked for something to accuse him of, "they could find no ground for complaint or any fault, because he was faithful" (Daniel 6:4, ESV). Their only hope was to catch him "in connection with the law of his God" (Daniel 6:5, ESV). Daniel lived in a different era and under different instructions, but he shows what it looks like to stay faithful without walking away.

Holding Fast to the Word of Life

Verse 16 adds one more phrase. Believers shine "holding fast to the word of life" (Philippians 2:16, ESV).

Their light is inseparable from "the word of life." They aren't simply nicer or more even-tempered people. They belong to Yeshua and hold fast to the message that gives life. That word anchors their faithfulness when the world around them pushes in another direction.

Paul also says he wants to be proud of them "in the day of Christ" (Philippians 2:16, ESV). Faithfulness now is heading somewhere. And in verse 17, he describes his own life being "poured out as a drink offering." He isn't asking the Philippians to do anything he isn't already doing himself.

How Does This Help Me Understand "Faithful in a World That Isn't"?

Christians are called to live differently without withdrawing from the people around us. Paul shows that difference in some very ordinary places: our complaints, our arguments, our daily work, and our grip on the gospel.

Everything in Philippians 2:14–16 lines up with the refrain of this series: The world should not only hear what Christians believe. It should be able to see the difference our faith makes. Paul expects that difference to be seen "in the midst" of a crooked generation, by people who are close enough to notice.

For now, believers live as citizens of heaven in places like Philippi. The promised kingdom is still to come, and the Church won't bring it about by taking over the culture. Until the King returns, our calling is to live faithfully among the people around us. We belong to another King, but He has placed us here as His witnesses.

Shining Where You Are

Take a week off from grumbling. Pay attention to how often you complain, out loud, in your head, or online. Pick one area, maybe your job, your church, or the news, and ask God to replace the complaints with gratitude and prayer.

Disagree without disputing. You'll still have convictions, and some conversations will involve real disagreement. Before your next one, decide that you'll listen well, speak truthfully, and let go of the need to win. That includes disagreements inside the church.

Stay where you've been placed. Think of one neighbor, coworker, or family member who doesn't know Yeshua and whom you've been keeping at a distance. Take one step toward them this week: a meal, a conversation, a note, an offer of help.

Hold on to the word of life. Faithfulness can wear you down when you're surrounded by people who don't share your convictions. Read Philippians 2 slowly this week. Hold fast to the word of life, and ask God to steady you when the pressure around you makes compromise or withdrawal seem easier.

Read the song to the end. Paul quotes the closing lines of the Song of Moses in Romans 15: "Rejoice, O Gentiles, with his people" (Romans 15:10, ESV). Gentile believers are invited to rejoice alongside Israel, because the Messiah came "to confirm the promises given to the patriarchs" (Romans 15:8, ESV). Read Deuteronomy 32 this week, all the way to the end, and thank God that the same Rock who calls us to faithfulness is faithful to Israel.

A crooked and twisted generation isn't a reason to hide. According to Paul, it's exactly where the lights are supposed to be.

Danny Price 7/9/26 Danny Price 7/9/26

Week #2: Good Works, Good News

Blog Series Intention Recap

City on a Hill: Living Out Your Faith

Yeshua (Jesus) told His followers, "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden" (Matthew 5:14, ESV). Our faith was never meant to stay hidden.

The world should not only hear what Christians believe. It should be able to see the difference our faith makes.

This page is a post in the series “City on a Hill: Living out Your Faith.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #2:

"Good Works, Good News"...

If good works don't save us, why does the New Testament care so much about whether unbelievers see them?

Most Christians who have sat under good Bible teaching can answer the first half quickly. We are saved by grace through faith, and nothing we do adds to what Yeshua has done. The second half is harder. Paul and Peter spend a surprising amount of ink on ordinary conduct: how older men carry themselves, how young wives treat their husbands, how workers treat their employers, how believers respond when they're slandered. Again and again, they attach a reason, and the reason has to do with people-watching.

Our good works don't save us, but they can point people toward the God who does.

Why it Matters:

Good works don't save us. Salvation is God's gift, received by faith.
Titus 2 keeps tying ordinary Christian conduct to how outsiders view God's Word.
Paul says believers' conduct can "adorn the doctrine of God our Savior" (Titus 2:10, ESV).
Peter teaches that honorable conduct matters even when believers are misunderstood or slandered (1 Peter 2:12).
A good life can raise a question, but the gospel still has to be spoken to answer it.
God still has purposes for Israel, and Gentile believers' lives have a part in them.

Go Deeper:

It's easy to push good works to the edge of the Christian life. After all, if works don't save us, how important can they really be? They can begin to feel like optional extras or simply a private matter between God and us.

There's another danger too. We can become so focused on being good examples that Christianity starts sounding like a self-improvement plan. People may meet nice Christians without ever hearing about a Savior.

Scripture won't let us choose between the two. Works can't save anyone. But God intends the lives of those He has saved to say something about the gospel they believe.

Settled Before We Start

Before looking at what good works do, it helps to be clear about what they can't do. Paul put it plainly to Titus:

"he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit" (Titus 3:5, ESV)

(The relationship between grace and works was the focus of the series "GRACE," if you'd like to dig into it further.) For this post, that truth is settled, and nothing here changes it. We're asking a different question. Once God has saved someone by grace, what do that person's works have to do with anyone else?

Paul answers in the same letter, one chapter earlier.

A Chapter Full of Reasons

Titus 2 reads at first like a list of instructions for different groups in the church. Older men are to be "sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled" (Titus 2:2, ESV). Older women are to be reverent and teach what is good. Younger women, younger men, Titus himself, and bondservants each get instructions of their own.

What stands out is how often Paul explains why. Young women are to live well "that the word of God may not be reviled" (Titus 2:5, ESV). Titus is to be "a model of good works," with sound speech, "so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us" (Titus 2:7–8, ESV). Bondservants are to show good faith "so that in everything they may adorn the doctrine of God our Savior" (Titus 2:10, ESV).

Three groups, three reasons, and every reason points outward. Paul expects people outside the church to be watching Christian homes, Christian teachers, and Christian workers, and he expects what they see to shape how they think about God's Word.

It's a sobering thought. Our conduct can hand people a reason to dismiss the gospel, or it can take that reason away.

Adorning the Doctrine

The last of those reasons is the most striking. The Greek word behind "adorn" (kosmeō) is the root of our word "cosmetic." It was used for putting something in order or decorating it so its beauty could be seen.

Paul isn't saying good behavior makes the gospel true. The doctrine of God our Savior is true regardless of how faithfully Christians live. But our lives can display that truth beautifully, or make it harder for others to see.

Think, too, about who Paul is addressing. Bondservants had very little social power in the Roman world. Paul isn't endorsing that system here. He is speaking to believers living within circumstances they had little power to change. He doesn't tell them to wait for better circumstances before their lives can matter. He tells them that honesty, reliability, and a refusal to pilfer could make the gospel look beautiful. If people with that little standing could adorn the doctrine of God, none of us are too ordinary to do the same.

Verse 11 then opens with the word "For." The grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation. Christian conduct can adorn the gospel because the gospel is about grace that has already appeared and is already at work in people. Paul says Yeshua gave Himself "to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works" (Titus 2:14, ESV). Good works are what God's grace produces in His people. When outsiders see those works, they are seeing some of the fruit that grace produces.

Seen by People Who Disagree

Peter makes a similar point to believers under pressure. He writes to "elect exiles of the Dispersion" (1 Peter 1:1, ESV), people living as outsiders in a world that often misunderstood them:

"Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation." (1 Peter 2:12, ESV)

Peter doesn't promise that honorable conduct will immediately silence their critics. He does expect those deeds to matter when God visits. Interpreters differ over whether Peter has God's visitation in mercy or judgment primarily in view, but his central point is clear: the conduct of believers is being watched, and God will ultimately be glorified.

The echo of Yeshua's words is hard to miss. He told His disciples to let their light shine "so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 5:16, ESV). What Yeshua said in Galilee, Peter now applies to scattered believers facing hostility.

And sometimes the life people notice is remarkably ordinary. Paul tells the Thessalonians to live quietly, mind their own affairs, and work with their hands, "so that you may walk properly before outsiders" (1 Thessalonians 4:12, ESV). Some of the most persuasive good works aren't dramatic at all. Paying your bills, doing your job well, keeping your word, and staying out of other people's business all say something to the people around you.

Works Point, Words Explain

A good life can raise a question, but it can't answer it. Neighbors may notice that a Christian family is kind, patient, or generous. They won't work out from that alone that Yeshua died for their sins and rose again.

Paul is clear that faith comes through hearing:

"How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?" (Romans 10:14, ESV)

A few verses later he sums it up: "So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ" (Romans 10:17, ESV).

So the title of this post has two halves, and they need each other. Works without words leave people admiring Christians without knowing why we live the way we do. Words without works leave people hearing a message the messengers don't seem to believe.

Peter puts the two side by side. Believers should be "prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect" (1 Peter 3:15, ESV). Good conduct often prompts the question, and our words answer it. Paul adds that our speech should be "gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person" (Colossians 4:6, ESV). Salt shows up again, this time in the way we talk.

How Does This Help Me Understand "Good Works, Good News"?

Our good works don't save us, but they can point people toward the God who does. Titus 2 shows ordinary Christian conduct adorning the gospel. First Peter 2 shows it turning hostile observers toward God. Romans 10 reminds us that the gospel still has to be put into words.

The recurring truth of this series already holds both sides together: The world should not only hear what Christians believe. It should be able to see the difference our faith makes. The world hears, and the world sees.

Good works also clarify where we stand in God's plan. We live between the appearing of God's grace at Yeshua's first coming and His return. The promised kingdom still lies ahead, but God's people have work to do now. In this age, God is calling out from the nations a people for His name (Acts 15:14), and the way His people live is one of the means He uses to draw attention to the truth of the gospel.

Good Works With Good News

Start where you already are. Titus 2 is about homes, jobs, and ordinary relationships. Pick one of those, maybe the one you'd least like to think about, and ask what it would look like to adorn the gospel there this week.

Take away the easy objections. Paul wanted opponents to have "nothing evil to say about us." Is there anything in your life that gives people an easy reason to wave off your faith? A broken promise, a harsh post online, careless work, an unpaid debt? Deal with it, and make it right where you can.

Be ready with words. If someone asked you today why you have hope, could you answer in a few plain sentences? Practice saying the gospel out loud: who Yeshua is, what He did, and why it matters to you. Then pray for the conversation where you'll need it.

Remember who else is watching. Writing to Gentile believers, Paul said salvation had come to the Gentiles "so as to make Israel jealous" (Romans 11:11, ESV), and he hoped to "make my fellow Jews jealous, and thus save some of them" (Romans 11:14, ESV). God has not finished with Israel, and the lives of Gentile believers are part of His purposes for her. Much of Church history has provoked Jewish people to anger instead. Ask God to make your life, including the way you speak about and treat Jewish people, something that points toward Israel's Messiah.

Good works can't save anyone. In the hands of the God who saves, they can still open a door. Let people see the difference, and when they ask, tell them the good news.

Danny Price 7/4/26 Danny Price 7/4/26

Book of the Month - July 2026

Crash of the Heavens: The Remarkable Story of Hannah Senesh and the Only Military Mission to Rescue Europe's Jews During World War II

Douglas Century - ISBN: 978-1668035276 - 2025

Author:

Douglas Century

Douglas Century is the author and coauthor of numerous bestselling books including Hunting El Chapo, Under and Alone, Brotherhood of Warriors, Barney Ross: The Life of a Jewish Fighter, The Last Boss of Brighton, and Takedown: The Fall of the Last Mafia Empire. His World War II nonfiction narrative, No Surrender, coauthored with Chris Edmonds, was the recipient of a 2020 Christopher Award. A veteran investigative journalist, Century has written for The New York Times, Rolling Stone, Billboard, The Globe and Mail (Toronto), and The Guardian.

Taken from amazon.com

Brief Synopsis:

The awe-inspiring and largely untold story of Hannah Senesh, a female paratrooper in World War II whose courage and sacrifice during a daring mission to rescue Europe’s Jews left an indelible mark on history.

As World War II intensified, young Jewish refugees in Palestine partnered with British Military Intelligence in a daring mission to parachute behind enemy lines in Eastern Europe. Their goal was to rescue downed Allied pilots, aid Jewish civilians facing deportation to death camps, and support resistance efforts against the Nazis. Among these volunteers was Hannah Senesh, one of only three female paratroopers sent into occupied Europe.

In 1939, at just eighteen years old, Hannah emigrated from Hungary to the British Mandate for Palestine, where she dreamed of being a poet and a schoolteacher. Instead, she became a poet and a paratrooper. Five years after fleeing Europe, Hannah parachuted back into occupied territory as a freedom fighter with the most crucial role in her team: the wireless operator tasked with sending and deciphering top-secret British radio codes.Though captured almost immediately after crossing the border into Hungary, she refused to give up her radio codes or any information about her mission, despite enduring months of horrific torture. Her final act of defiance—choosing to die before a firing squad rather than beg for clemency—cemented her legendary status as the “Jewish Joan of Arc.”

Hannah’s legacy lives on today in the widely published diary she’d kept since age thirteen and in her poetry which has inspired generations. Each year on Holocaust Remembrance Day, a short poem Hannah composed on the shores of the Mediterranean in 1942 is sung at ceremonies around the world. Titled “Eli, Eli,” or “My God, My God,” it has become a modern hymn, taught in schools, sung in synagogues, and printed in thousands of prayerbooks.

More than just a gripping historical account of Hannah’s life and afterlife, Crash of the Heavens offers a powerful reminder of the human spirit’s ability to shine, even in the darkest of times.

Taken from amazon.com

Insights:

“I stand before you as a captured British servicewoman. I’m not guilty of espionage or treason. I’m not traitor to Hungary. The traitors are those among you who brought this calamity upon the Jewish people and upon Hungary itself. I implore you now – don’t add to your crimes. You surely realize that your own day of reckoning is soon coming …”

My God, my God,
may it never end –
the sand and the sea,
the rustle of the water,
the lightning of the sky,
the prayer of man.

Should I read it or skip it?

Crash of the Heavens tells a remarkable story that deserves to be far better known. Douglas Century brings to life the courage of the Jewish paratroopers who volunteered to return to Nazi-occupied Europe during World War II, knowing the risks and the odds against them. At the center of the story is Hannah Senesh, whose bravery, conviction, and sacrifice make her one of the most compelling figures of the war. Century does an excellent job weaving together military history, Jewish history, and personal stories without losing sight of the people behind the events.

What I appreciated most was how the book tells a side of World War II that rarely gets much attention. Like many readers, I knew the broad outlines of the war, but I had never fully appreciated how close Field Marshal Erwin Rommel came to capturing Egypt and threatening the Middle East. That context raises the stakes and helps explain the urgency behind these missions. The book also highlights the often-overlooked role of Jewish volunteers who refused to stand by while their people were being murdered. These were not merely victims of history but courageous men and women who chose to fight back, rescue others, and risk everything in the process. While Hannah Senesh is the focus, other historical figures also appear, offering a different perspective on the story. The book follows other paratroopers, such as Enzo Sereni in Italy or Sara Braveman in Romania. Century takes time to explore the involvement of David Ben Gurion and other Israeli leaders. Well researched and highly readable, Crash of the Heavens is a moving reminder that even in humanity's darkest moments, extraordinary courage can still be found.

Danny Price 7/2/26 Danny Price 7/2/26

Week #1: A City That Cannot Be Hidden

Blog Series Intention Recap

City on a Hill: Living Out Your Faith

Yeshua (Jesus) told His followers, "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden" (Matthew 5:14, ESV). Our faith was never meant to stay hidden.

The world should not only hear what Christians believe. It should be able to see the difference our faith makes.

This page is a post in the series “City on a Hill: Living out Your Faith.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #1:

"A City That Cannot Be Hidden"...

Most Christians can explain what they believe, at least in outline. A harder question is where anyone else would notice it. If a coworker, a neighbor, or the person who cuts your hair had to describe your faith using only what they have seen, what would they say?

Yeshua expected an answer. Near the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount, He told His disciples that they were the salt of the earth and the light of the world, and that a city set on a hill cannot be hidden. He wasn't handing them a goal to reach someday. Salt and light described the life He expected His disciples to live.

Why it Matters:

Yeshua calls His followers salt and light as a statement of fact about who they are.
Following Yeshua produces a faith that can be seen. It can't stay entirely private.
Salt that loses its saltiness and a lamp under a basket picture two ways to lose our witness: blending in and hiding.
The light belongs to Yeshua. We shine because God has shone in us.
The purpose of visible faith is glory to the Father, not attention for ourselves.
Yeshua first spoke these words to His Jewish disciples before the cross, and the apostles carry the same principle into the life of the Church.

Go Deeper:

Many believers quietly assume that faith is a private matter. It shapes what happens inside us and on Sunday mornings, and the rest of life runs on the same terms as everyone else's. Others feel the opposite pull: the world is dark and getting darker, so the safest thing is to keep our heads down and our circles small until the Lord comes back.

Yeshua's words challenge both instincts. A faith that follows Him will show. The real question is what people see when they look.

This also matters for how we understand our place in God's plan. The Church lives between the King's first coming and His return. How we live in the meantime is the subject of this whole series, and it starts with a simple claim: following Yeshua produces a faith that can be seen.

Who Was Yeshua Talking To?

It's worth reading Matthew 5 in its setting before applying it. Yeshua was speaking to His Jewish disciples in Galilee, before the cross, while the Law of Moses was still in force. The Church had not yet begun, and the Sermon on the Mount was not written as a charter for it. Reading it carefully means letting it speak first to the people who heard it.

At the same time, the principle Yeshua teaches here doesn't stay in Galilee. When the apostles write to churches made up of Jewish and Gentile believers, they reach for the same language. Paul tells the Ephesians, "for at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light" (Ephesians 5:8, ESV). He tells the Philippians they "shine as lights in the world" (Philippians 2:15, ESV).

So we aren't lifting a verse out of context and pasting it onto the Church. We're following a line that runs from Yeshua's words to His disciples into the New Testament's teaching for believers today: people who belong to Him are meant to be seen.

"You Are"

Yeshua doesn't say, "Try to become salt," or "Work toward being light." He says, "You are the salt of the earth" and "You are the light of the world" (Matthew 5:13–14, ESV).

Yeshua begins with who they already are. They are salt. They are light. Living visibly as His followers grows out of that identity. Something has happened to people who follow Him, and what has happened to them will show.

These words come right after the Beatitudes, so the people Yeshua calls salt and light are the poor in spirit, the mourners, the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, and those who are insulted and persecuted for His sake (Matthew 5:3–12). They aren't the powerful or the popular. The light of the world, in Yeshua's description, looks like ordinary people living a very different kind of life, sometimes at real cost.

A visible faith, then, has little to do with celebrity or influence. A single mother who is honest at work when it costs her something is more visible, in the sense Yeshua means, than a Christian with a large platform and a life that looks like everyone else's.

Salt That Has Lost Its Taste

"You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people's feet." (Matthew 5:13, ESV)

Salt was valuable in the ancient world for preserving and seasoning food. But Yeshua's point doesn't require us to know its exact chemical makeup. Salt that no longer did what salt was supposed to do was useless.

And here is where the image gets uncomfortable. Christians can remain surrounded by people who need Yeshua while gradually becoming indistinguishable from them. We absorb the world's values, its speech, its priorities, and its way of treating people until there's nothing left that anyone would recognize as different. We can still look like Christians on paper while having lost what made us useful.

A Lamp Under a Basket

"You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house." (Matthew 5:14–15, ESV)

A typical home in Yeshua's day had one main room and one small clay oil lamp. Nobody lit that lamp and then covered it with a basket. The whole point of lighting it was to put it up where the entire house could see by it.

A town built on a hilltop works the same way. At night, its lights can be seen for miles. It doesn't have to try to be seen. It simply can't be hidden.

The lamp warns about the opposite danger, which is hiding. Instead of absorbing the world's ways, we pull away from the people around us. We keep our faith behind closed doors, limit our lives to other Christians, and stay quiet out of fear, fatigue, or a sense that the world isn't worth the effort anymore. The light is still lit, but nobody outside the basket benefits from it.

Blending in and hiding look like opposites, but they end in the same place. In both cases, the people around us never see the difference Yeshua makes.

Whose Light Is It?

If all of this sounds like pressure to perform, it helps to remember where the light comes from. Yeshua said of Himself, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" (John 8:12, ESV).

He is the light. His followers are light because they are joined to Him. Paul describes salvation itself in those terms:

"For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." (2 Corinthians 4:6, ESV)

The light didn't originate with us. God shone into our darkness, and now that light becomes visible in the way we live.

Careful readers of Matthew sometimes ask a related question. In chapter 6, Yeshua warns, "Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them" (Matthew 6:1, ESV). How can He say "let your light shine before others" in chapter 5 and warn against doing righteousness before others in chapter 6?

The answer is in where the glory goes. In Matthew 6, the goal is to be seen by them, and the reward is their admiration. In Matthew 5, the goal is that people "may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 5:16, ESV). Good works done the way Yeshua describes point people past us to the Father.

How Does This Help Me Understand "A City That Cannot Be Hidden"?

Following Yeshua produces a faith that can be seen. That is what Yeshua meant when He called His disciples salt and light, and it is what the apostles meant when they told the churches to walk as children of light.

This is where the recurring truth of the series comes from: The world should not only hear what Christians believe. It should be able to see the difference our faith makes.

The Church lives between promise and fulfillment. The King has come, died, and risen, and one day He will return to establish His promised kingdom. Until then, our responsibility is not to establish the kingdom by our own efforts. We represent its coming King by living faithfully in the world He has sent us into.

Taking the Basket Off

So how do we live as a city on a hill this week?

Ask the honest question. Think about the people who see you most often outside of church. If they described your faith only by what they have observed, what would they say? Let the answer guide your prayers rather than your guilt.

Stay in contact. Salt can't do anything from inside the jar. Look for ways to stay present in your neighborhood, workplace, and family instead of retreating into Christian-only spaces. Faithfulness usually looks like showing up in the same places, over and over, as a different kind of person.

Stay distinct. Pick one area where your life has started to look like everyone else's. It might be the way you talk about people who aren't in the room, how you handle money, or how you treat people who can't do anything for you. Ask the Lord to make that area different.

Point upward. When someone notices something good in your life, don't let the credit stop with you. Tell them where it came from. Visible faith is meant to lead people to the Father, and at some point that means putting the gospel into words.

Visible faith also rests on confidence that God will finish what He has promised.

Trust the promises still ahead. Living faithfully means learning to trust God's promises even when their fulfillment is still ahead. That includes the promises He has made to Israel. The Church's calling in this present age does not erase what God has promised the Jewish people. Take time this week to read Romans 11 and ask what God's faithfulness to Israel teaches you about His faithfulness to you.

A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. People are already looking. The question is whether what they see points them to Yeshua.

Danny Price 7/1/26 Danny Price 7/1/26

City on a Hill: Living Out Your Faith

Blog Series Intention Recap

Jesus told His followers, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden” (Matthew 5:14, ESV). Our faith was never meant to stay hidden.

City on a Hill is a four-week Theology Thursday series about what it means to live faithfully in the world while we wait for Jesus to return. The Church has a unique place in God's plan in this present age. We are not here to build the promised kingdom, replace Israel, or retreat from a world that desperately needs the gospel. We are here to follow Jesus, make disciples, love our neighbors, do good, and make the truth of the gospel visible through the way we live.

The world should not only hear what Christians believe. It should be able to see the difference our faith makes.

This post is the main page of the series “City on a Hill: Living Out Your Faith.”

Danny Price 6/25/26 Danny Price 6/25/26

Week #4 - Grace in Every Age: Different Stewardships. One Way of Salvation.

Blog Series Intention Recap

Grace.

We sing about it. We name churches after it. We talk about being saved by it. But what exactly is grace? And just as importantly, what it isn’t?

Is grace God’s New Testament replacement for Old Testament Law? Were Abraham, Moses, and David saved differently than we are? If salvation is entirely by grace, do our works matter?

Those questions take us across the biblical story, where we discover something remarkably consistent:

Grace isn’t God’s backup plan.

From Abraham to the apostles, sinful people have always needed what they could never earn for themselves: God’s grace.

Over the last four weeks, we’ll look at what grace is, what it isn’t, and why different ages and responsibilities have never meant different ways of salvation.

Different ages. Different responsibilities. One Savior. Grace through faith.

This page is a post in the series “Grace: A Study On What It Is And What It Isn’t.” Click here to see the rest of the posts.

Let’s jump into Week #4:

"Grace in Every Age"...

"Doesn't dispensationalism teach different ways of salvation?"

If you have spent any time around conversations about how to read the Bible, you have probably heard some version of that question. The criticism goes like this: dispensationalists divide the Bible into different ages, so they must believe God saved people differently in each one. Israel was saved by keeping the Law. The Church is saved by grace. Different eras, different plans.

It is a fair question to ask. And to be fair, some older dispensational language was imprecise enough to reinforce that impression.

But the question deserves an answer from Scripture, not just from a definition. So instead of starting with a chart, let's start with the Bible's own witnesses: a prophet, an apostle, and a long line of ordinary people who lived centuries apart and had one thing in common.

They lived by faith.

Why it Matters:

A dispensation is a stewardship: how God administers His purposes at a particular point in history. It is not a separate way of salvation.
The prophets, the apostles, and Hebrews 11 all testify to the same thing: God's people have always lived by faith.
The cross reaches backward as well as forward. Those who trusted God before Yeshua’s death were saved on the basis of the same sacrifice as those who trust Him after it.
We don't have to erase the differences between Israel and the Church to see that every sinner is saved the same way.

Go Deeper:

What Is a Dispensation?

The word comes from the Greek oikonomia, which gives us our word "economy." It describes the management of a household: a stewardship, an administration. Paul uses it of his own calling:

"assuming that you have heard of the stewardship of God's grace that was given to me for you" (Ephesians 3:2, ESV)

Notice the phrase: "the stewardship of God's grace." Even the word itself is tied to grace.

A dispensation describes how God orders His dealings with people at a particular point in His unfolding plan: what He reveals, what He entrusts to them, and what He expects of them. And Scripture shows real differences.

Noah was told to build an ark. Abraham was told to leave his country. Israel under Moses received a tabernacle, a priesthood, and a covenant with the nation. The Church has none of those things, and it has responsibilities of its own that Israel under Moses never had.

Those differences are real, and flattening them would do violence to the text. Noah was not Israel. Israel is not the Church.

But stewardship is not salvation. Different arrangements for living with God have never meant different ways of being made right with God.

The Righteous Shall Live by Faith

Centuries after Moses, the prophet Habakkuk looked out at a nation full of violence and injustice and asked God how long it would go on. God's answer included one of the most important lines in the Old Testament:

"Behold, his soul is puffed up; it is not upright within him, but the righteous shall live by his faith." (Habakkuk 2:4, ESV)

Two kinds of people. One is proud, trusting himself. The other is righteous, and he lives by faith.

Habakkuk lived under the Law of Moses. He was a prophet to Israel. And the principle God gave him was not "the righteous shall live by his performance." It was faith.

Paul quotes this verse twice to explain how anyone is justified:

"Now it is evident that no one is justified before God by the law, for 'The righteous shall live by faith.'" (Galatians 3:11, ESV)

He quotes it again at the very beginning of Romans (Romans 1:17). Paul is not introducing a new idea. He is reading his Bible.

"By Faith"

If Habakkuk states the principle, Hebrews 11 shows it lived out across the whole biblical story.

By faith Abel offered a better sacrifice.

By faith Enoch walked with God.

By faith Noah built the ark.

By faith Abraham left home, not knowing where he was going.

By faith Sarah received power to conceive.

By faith Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph looked ahead to promises they would not live to see.

By faith Moses chose to suffer with God's people rather than enjoy Egypt.

By faith Rahab welcomed the spies.

Different people. Different centuries. Different responsibilities. Different amounts of revelation. Abel knew far less than Moses. Rahab was a Canaanite who had heard only reports of what Israel's God had done. Noah never saw a tabernacle. Abraham never heard the Ten Commandments.

One repeated phrase: by faith.

Hebrews summarizes it this way: "And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him." (Hebrews 11:6, ESV)

Then the writer says something remarkable: "These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar" (Hebrews 11:13, ESV). They trusted God for what they had not yet seen.

The revelation was different. The response was the same: they trusted God.

How Could God Save Anyone Before the Cross?

This brings us to a question that has been hanging over this entire series.

If the Messiah's death is the only basis on which God forgives sin, how were Abraham, David, Habakkuk, and Rahab forgiven centuries before the cross?

Paul answers directly in Romans 3:

"...and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God's righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus." (Romans 3:24–26, ESV)

Look at the phrase "he had passed over former sins." For centuries, God forgave people who trusted Him. He counted righteousness to Abraham. He covered David's sin. He accepted the faith of those who brought their sacrifices with repentant hearts.

That raised a real question. How could a just God simply pass over sin?

The cross is the answer. When Yeshua (Jesus) died, God publicly demonstrated that He had never simply overlooked sin. Israel's sacrifices pointed forward to the sacrifice that could actually take away sin. God's forgiveness before Calvary had always rested on the work the Messiah would accomplish. At the cross, history revealed that basis.

The cross happened at one point in history, but its saving work undergirds salvation in every age.

Abraham trusted what God had revealed to him. We trust what God has now revealed concerning His Son. Both are saved by the same Savior.

How does this help me understand “Grace: A Study On What It Is And What It Isn’t?”

What Changes, and What Doesn't

Put all of that together, and a simple framework emerges.

What changes?

Revelation. God progressively reveals more of His plan. Abraham knew more than Abel. Moses knew more than Abraham. The prophets saw further still. The apostles saw the promise fulfilled in the Messiah.
Responsibility. God gives different responsibilities to people at different points in history. Noah built an ark. Israel kept the Mosaic covenant. The Church is called to make disciples of all nations.
Stewardship. Noah, Abraham, Israel under Moses, and the Church are not interchangeable. Each has its own place in God's plan.

What doesn't change?

The problem: sin. Every person in every age has needed rescue.
The source: God's grace. No one has ever earned it.
The basis: the Messiah's atoning work, whether anticipated or accomplished.
The means: faith. God's people have always received His grace by trusting Him.

The content of revelation grows. The means of receiving salvation remains faith. And the basis has always been the same sacrifice.

Does This Erase the Distinctions?

But recognizing one way of salvation does not require us to erase the biblical distinctions between Israel and the Church.

Abraham was saved by faith, and God still made specific promises to Abraham's physical descendants. Israel's national calling, covenants, and future in God's plan are not canceled because individual Israelites were always justified by faith. The Church is a distinct work of God in this age, and it does not replace the nation God chose.

Distinction does not require different ways of salvation. And one way of salvation does not require erasing distinctions.

You may have seen dispensational charts that call the present age "the dispensation of grace." That label can sound as though grace began at Pentecost. It did not. The label describes a distinctive stewardship of God's grace in the present age (Ephesians 3:2). It does not mean grace itself began there. As we have seen, grace was there before the Law, at Sinai, in the prophets, and in every life Hebrews 11 describes.

Grace does not belong to one dispensation. God's people in every dispensation have depended on it.

One Savior, Every Age

What It Is. What It Isn't.

Over four weeks, we have looked at grace from four directions. Here is what we have found.

Grace is: God giving sinful people what they could never earn and do not deserve. Grace isn't: A new plan God introduced because the Law failed.

Grace is: God acting first, then teaching His redeemed people how to live. Grace isn't: Freedom from every command, responsibility, or consequence.

Grace is: God's gift that does not stop at pardon, but changes the one it saves. Grace isn't: Permission to live as though belonging to the Messiah changes nothing.

Grace is: The source of salvation in every age and under every stewardship. Grace isn't: The property of a single dispensation.

Standing in a Long Line

The truth Paul states to the Ephesians describes every believer's salvation in every age:

"For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast." (Ephesians 2:8–9, ESV)

If you have trusted Yeshua, you are standing in a very long line. Abel is in it. Noah is in it. Abraham, who believed God under the stars. Israelites who brought their sacrifices with broken and contrite hearts. Habakkuk, waiting on God in a violent age. Rahab, a Canaanite woman who had only heard the reports.

None of them earned a place in that line. Neither did you.

They had less revelation than we have. Some had far less. But they trusted what God had revealed to them, and they were saved by the same grace, on the basis of the same sacrifice.

This week, read Hebrews 11 in one sitting. As you read each "by faith," remember that every one of those names belonged to a sinner who needed grace. Then ask yourself:

Am I trusting what God has done, or what I am doing?

Does seeing grace across the whole Bible change the way I read the people, promises, and commands I find there?

God's administration changes.

God's way of saving sinners does not.

It has always been grace.