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Jesus is king forever. Those who travel through the narrow path will dwell with Him in the house of the LORD forever. ✝️

[Name @Name_2point0]

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[Name @Name_2point0]

@wendoverpro The next season of jet lag you gotta wear Haaland's football t-shirt, whether it be the Manchester city or the Norwegian national football team's t-shirt.

[Name @Name_2point0]

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[Henk Koekemoer @HenkKoekemoer]

@Biblicalman #Discipleship

[The Biblical Man @Biblicalman]

God: "So let me get this straight. You've been a Christian for twelve years?"

Man: "That's right, God."

God: "How many people have you led to Me?"

Man: "Zero. But I'm almost ready to—"

God: "How many conferences have you attended?"

Man: "About $8,000 worth. Fifteen conferences total."

God: "Did you apply what you learned?"

Man: "I... applied some. But I took notes at all of them."

God: "You spent eight thousand dollars on conferences you didn't apply."

Man: "Well I kept finding better speakers."

God: "How many men are you discipling?"

Man: "I'm in a small group. Does that count?"

God: "You tell Me. Are you making disciples or having coffee?"

Man: "We're... we're really going deep into theology."

God: "For how long?"

Man: "Three years."

God: "Same men?"

Man: "Yeah."

God: "Still meeting weekly?"

Man: "Yeah."

God: "Still going 'deep'?"

Man: "Yeah..."

God: "And in three years, has any of them made a disciple?"

Man: "Well, we're still—"

God: "That's not discipleship. That's a book club."

Man: "But we need to be equipped before we—"

God: "Equipped for what? I sent you out with nothing. Told you to make disciples. You've spent twelve years taking notes."

Man: "But what if I teach them wrong?"

God: "You'll never know! You're using 'I'm not ready' as an excuse to avoid the scary part, which is actually trying and potentially failing."

Man: "But God, real mastery takes—"

God: "I sent out twelve men who didn't have seminary degrees. They turned the world upside down. You have twelve study Bibles and zero disciples."

Man: "But my theology needs to be—"

God: "Your theology is fine. Your obedience is missing."

Man: "But the conference next month is supposed to—"

God: "Stop. Stop going to conferences. Stop reading about discipleship. Go make a disciple. Now. Anyone. Even if you mess it up. That's the only way you'll actually learn what I told you to do."

Man: "But my calling..."

God: "I called you twelve years ago. You've been preparing ever since. Thanks for the prayers."

[Name @Name_2point0]

https://t.co/DmtoJT4mA0

[Name @Name_2point0]

https://t.co/sjBDbLK6AW

[The Biblical Man @Biblicalman]

I spent years trying to climb out of my darkness.

God kept pushing me back down.

I thought He hated me.

Then I realized He was drowning me in it on purpose.

Like baptism but backwards.

Seeds need soil, not sky.

God doesn't want you to transcend your darkness.

He wants it to birth something.

[The Biblical Man @Biblicalman]

Sunday morning. Sanctuary full. The pastor takes the stage.

“God accepts you as you are.”

The congregation nods. Warm. Safe. Affirming.

Behind the pulpit, a cross collects dust. The Bible stays closed. And somewhere in the back pew, the truth sits alone. Silent. Watching the circus.

This is how it starts.

Pride flags in the foyer.
Prosperity sermons from the stage.
“Speak your truth” in the small groups.
“God wants you happy” in the counseling rooms.

The paint is fresh. The coffee is hot. The theology is dead.

Nobody notices the smell.

“Judge not” they quote. Half a verse. Out of context. Weaponized.

Meanwhile Leviticus 18 gathers dust. Romans 1 gets explained away. First Corinthians 6 becomes “cultural context.”

The Bible didn’t change. The readers did.

Call it interpretation. God calls it rebellion.

Therapeutic Christianity.
Self-help with a Jesus sticker.
Affirmation masquerading as grace.

The gospel of “you’re enough.”
The god of “I affirm your journey.”
The cross of “no judgment here.”

Three nails. One truth: This isn’t Christianity. It’s Christless religion wearing the corpse.

Eli’s sons (1 Samuel 2).

They were priests. Defiled the offerings. Slept with temple women. Eli knew. Eli saw. Eli said: “Why do ye such things?”

Then went back to dinner.

Consequence? Eli’s neck. Broken. His sons. Dead. Same day. The glory departed Israel.

Soft rebuke of hard sin = death.

Aaron. The golden calf. (Exodus 32)

Moses gone 40 days. The people get restless. Aaron gets creative.

“Bring me your gold.”

He melts it. Molds it. Presents it: “These be thy gods, O Israel!”

Affirmed their comfort. Abandoned his calling.

Moses returns. 3,000 dead by day’s end.

The blood ran downhill.

Saul. King Agag. (1 Samuel 15)

God said: Destroy everything. Saul said: Except the good stuff.

Kept the king. Kept the sheep. Called it “sacrifice.”

Samuel showed up. “What’s that bleating in my ears?”

Partial obedience. Religious-looking rebellion.

Samuel hacked Agag to pieces. Because somebody had to finish what the anointed king refused.

God repented He made Saul king.

Fast-forward.

Your pastor stands in that lineage. Eli’s sons. Aaron. Saul.

Different century. Same disease.

He affirms what God condemns. Calls it love. Calls it grace. Calls it “meeting people where they are.”

The Bible calls it witchcraft. (1 Samuel 15:23)

His smile looks pastoral. His theology smells sulfuric.

Joel Osteen: “I don’t know” when asked about homosexuality on Larry King.

The Bible knew. Clear. Explicit. No ambiguity.

He chose comfort over clarity. Chose crowds over conviction.

30,000 people in Lakewood Church. How many hearing the gospel?

The building is full. The message is empty. That’s not a church. That’s a theater.

Steven Furtick: “God had a dream and you were in it.”

Jeremiah 17:9: “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.”

One preaches your potential. One preaches your depravity.

One fills stadiums. One empties them.

Guess which one Jesus preached.

The consequences are here. Now. Playing out in real time.

United Methodist Church: Lost 3,000 congregations over sexuality debates. Hemorrhaging members.

PCUSA: Down 50% in 30 years. Ordaining what God condemns.

ELCA: Same trajectory. Same theology. Same death spiral.

Affirm the sin. Kill the church. Every. Single. Time.

Gen Z leaving in droves. Not because church is too rigid. Because it’s too weak.

They smell the compromise. The half-truths. The “yes, but” theology.

They want absolutes. We’re giving them therapy. They want transcendence. We’re giving them tolerance.

They’re leaving for atheism. Or Islam. Or nothing. Because weak Christianity is worse than no Christianity.

Empty seminaries. Dead denominations. Clergy who don’t believe the creeds they recite.

This isn’t happening TO the church. This IS the church. When you affirm what God condemns.

The glory departs. The Spirit leaves. The doors close. The grass grows through the parking lot cracks.

[Name @Name_2point0]

https://t.co/DmtoJT3OKs

[Name @Name_2point0]

https://t.co/DmtoJT3OKs

[Jeremiah Knight @iamrjknight]

The Road Every Believer Must Walk

Every believer who follows Christ must understand that the Christian life is not a smooth path but a narrow road filled with trials, tears, and truth. It is not only preachers or prophets who walk through testing, but all who belong to Him. The wilderness, the garden, and the betrayal are not the experiences of the few, but the inheritance of every child of God who truly seeks to be conformed to His likeness.

The wilderness comes first. Before joy comes endurance, before fruit comes pruning. When Israel left Egypt, God led them not into comfort but into a desert. There, the people learned that manna is enough and that every word that proceeds from the mouth of God sustains life. The wilderness strips away every false confidence. It removes the illusion that we are strong. It is there that we learn what dependence truly means. Christ too was led into the wilderness to be tempted, not to destroy Him, but to prove that obedience holds even when the stomach is empty and the heart is weary.

Then comes Gethsemane. It is the place where faith wrestles with surrender. Every believer has a Gethsemane - the place where God’s will cuts across our own. It may come as sickness, loss, disappointment, or the slow death of our pride. There we learn that following Christ means more than singing of His goodness; it means bowing under His hand and saying, “Not my will, but Yours, be done” (Luke 22:42). Gethsemane is where we learn that true peace is born only through submission.

And then comes Judas. Every believer, at some point, tastes the sting of betrayal. Sometimes it comes from friends we trusted, from family we loved, from church members we served alongside, from pastors we looked up to, and even from a spouse we thought would never turn away. A friend’s words can wound deeper than any enemy’s sword. A trusted companion may walk away without explanation. Yet betrayal teaches us something no comfort ever can, that our trust must rest fully in Christ. He was betrayed with a kiss, yet He called Judas “friend” (Matthew 26:50). To follow Christ is to learn that love is not withdrawn even when others fail us, and that grace still reaches out even when hearts grow cold.

The wilderness teaches dependence, Gethsemane teaches surrender, and Judas teaches forgiveness. Each is painful, yet each reveals Christ more clearly. The wilderness humbles us before God. Gethsemane shapes us into obedience. Judas reminds us that mercy belongs to God alone.

Every believer who truly follows Christ must pass through these places. There is no resurrection without death, no crown without the cross, no maturity without pain. The faith that never suffers is the faith that never grows. We would rather skip these valleys, yet they are the very ground where grace takes root.

So when you find yourself in a dry wilderness, or weeping in your own Gethsemane, or wounded by a Judas... do not despair. The same Lord who walked that path before you walks beside you still. He sanctifies suffering by His presence and turns every sorrow into soil for eternal fruit.

This is the narrow road of those who belong to Him. It is not the easy way, but it is the only way that leads home.

Dear brothers/sisters pray for this ministry and, as the Lord leads, stand with me as a Fellow Contender to proclaim the truth of God’s Word freely across India. 👉 https://t.co/M9dX7ZBJav

[Trevor Sheatz @TrevorSheatz]

Christians:

Kill lust at the first glance.

Don’t let your eyes linger.

Don’t fantasize.

Flee from all sexual immorality (1 Cor. 6:18).

Don’t even go near where sexual sin may lie in wait (Prov. 5:8).

[The Biblical Man @Biblicalman]

I know the voice.

The one that says jump.

Pull the trigger.

Take the pills.

I've sat with that monster more times than I can count.

But for Christ, I'd be in a ditch somewhere.

This morning, an 18-year-old in my town stepped in front of a train.

Last week, an acquaintance was found dead in his front yard. Wife and children discovered him.

Today, I watched a young man testify in church about God's goodness.

Three hours later I saw him at the mall in Minion PJ’s acting like a complete fool.

I sat down. Grieving.

Why…

Then Jesus showed me a tree.

Mark 11:12-14.

Jesus walks up to a fig tree. Hungry. Looking for breakfast.

The tree is covered in leaves. Green. Full. Perfect.

He reaches into the branches. Pushes the leaves aside.

Nothing.

No fruit. Just performance.

So He curses it.

"Let no fruit grow on thee henceforward for ever."

By morning, the tree is dead. Withered from the roots.

The disciples stare. Shocked.

Jesus isn't.

Judas sat at the table for three years.

Heard every sermon. Saw every miracle. Called Jesus "Master."

All the right words. All the right proximity.

Then Gethsemane.

He found Jesus praying. Soldiers following behind.

And he kissed Him.

Thirty pieces of silver in his pocket.

Matthew says he hanged himself.

Acts says "he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out."

Guts in the dirt. Blood in the field.

That's what happens to fig trees with no fruit.

The kid who testified today?

Testimony at 10 AM.

Minion PJ’s by 1 PM.

Zero transition. Zero weight. Zero sense that what happened in that building should alter anything.

All leaves.

The 18-year-old who stepped in front of the train?

He grew up watching Christianity that looked perfect on Sunday but held nothing when life got heavy.

When he needed roots deep enough to hold him, there was nothing.

So he walked to the tracks. Waited. Stepped.

Metal on bone. Blood on the rails.

That's what happens when faith is all leaves.

“This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me." Matthew 15:8

Jesus wasn't talking about atheists.

He was talking about religious people.

People who testify on Sunday. Act the fool on Monday.

Their mouths honor Him. Their hearts are far.

Jesus didn't curse the fig tree because it was struggling.

He cursed it because it was pretending.

Leaves gave the appearance of life while producing nothing.

Modern Christianity has worship bands, viral sermons, stadium conferences.

But when Christ gets close?

Where's the fruit?

Where's the transformation that costs something?

Where's the faith with roots deep enough to hold when the train comes?

The scariest part?

Jesus didn't give the tree a chance to explain.

No sermon about trying harder. No grace period.

He cursed it. And it died.

Because fake fruit is worse than no fruit.

Leaves that promise substance but deliver nothing are offensive to God.

You can't fake fruit when Jesus shows up.

Judas learned that. Ended up with guts in a field.

The fig tree learned that. Withered from the roots.

"The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom." Proverbs 9:10

Not respect. Not appreciation.

Fear.

The kind that knows you can't fake fruit when the King shows up.

We don't have that anymore.

And it's killing us.

So here's your question:

Are you producing fruit, or just maintaining leaves?

When Christ walks up to your tree, hungry, looking for substance, what's He going to find?

The fig tree couldn't answer. So it withered.

Judas couldn't answer. So his guts spilled.

That 18-year-old couldn't answer. So he stepped.

What's your answer?

—TBM

[Richard Corrao @RichCor777]

Some people think prayer ends with us talking to God.
But what they miss is that God also wants to talk to us.

We say our prayers, give our thanks, list our worries, make our requests, then say “Amen,” and off we go to brush our teeth and start the day.

And God is left wondering...
“What about Me?”

Prayer was meant to be a conversation, not a monologue.

So remember... create space for Him to communicate.

How do you do that?

You shut out whatever worldly noise you can.
You sit quietly.
You slow your breathing.
You stop thinking inside your head.
And then... you wait.

You’re not listening for words...
you’re feeling for His presence.

And if you tune in close enough, you’ll feel Him communicating...
not in your way, but in His.

You’ll know when He’s speaking.
You won’t hear it in your ears...
You’ll feel it in your spirit.

— Richie Corrao
All Glory to God
Jesus Will Return

Psalm 46:10 (NIV)
“Be still, and know that I am God.”

[Name @Name_2point0]

https://t.co/sjBDbLJyLo

[𝕊𝕠𝕝𝕒 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕕 🎚️ @sola_chad]

I love how Jesus miraculously changed not only what I do, but He also changed what I 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 to do. He changed my heart.

But I also hate how I sometimes don’t follow through. Yet even in my inconsistency, His grace remains perfectly consistent.

[The Biblical Man @Biblicalman]

Joseph of Arimathea took down a corpse.

Hands still sticky with blood.

Skin already cold.

Touched death. Held it. Wrapped it.

Became ceremonially unclean for Passover.

For a dead man.

Here's what most Christians miss about the burial of Jesus:

Joseph was a wealthy man. A member of the Sanhedrin. A respected Jew.

And Passover was 3 hours away.

The holiest day of the year.

But he climbed Golgotha anyway.

Jewish law was clear:

Touch a dead body = unclean for 7 days.

Can't worship. Can't celebrate. Can't enter the temple.

Joseph knew this.

He'd spent his entire life following these laws.

But Jesus was still hanging on that cross.

Picture it:

The crowds are gone. The soldiers drunk. The women weeping.

Joseph approaches Pilate—the man who just murdered his Lord—and asks permission.

"Can I have the body?"

Pilate grants it.

Now Joseph has to actually DO it.

He walks to Golgotha.

Blood-soaked dirt. The smell of death. Three crosses against the sky.

Jesus in the middle.

Still.

Finally still.

Joseph climbs the ladder.

Grabs the first nail.

Pulls.

Feel the weight of that moment.

God's body in your arms.

The blood isn't dry yet.

It stains his expensive robes.

His hands.

Under his fingernails.

He can taste the iron in the air.

This is what obedience looks like.

Messy. Expensive. Permanent.

Nicodemus shows up.

Another secret disciple. Another Sanhedrin member.

He brings 75 pounds of myrrh and aloes.

That's about $150,000 worth of burial spices in today's money.

Two wealthy men. Two cowards until now.

Finally brave when it's already too late.

They work fast.

Sabbath is coming. They have maybe 3 hours.

Wrap the body. Pour the spices. Seal the tomb.

The sun is setting.

Joseph is now officially unclean.

Can't celebrate Passover tomorrow.

Can't enter the temple for a week.

Think about what he just gave up:

His ceremonial purity.

His Passover celebration.

His reputation (everyone saw him bury a "blasphemer").

His position (the Sanhedrin won't forget this).

His safety (Romans might come for disciples next).

All for a dead man.

But here's what most Christians miss:

Joseph didn't do this expecting resurrection.

He did it expecting NOTHING.

Jesus was dead. Gone. Finished.

This wasn't faith in resurrection.

This was love for a corpse.

That's the part that wrecks me.

Joseph touched death—literally—knowing it meant giving up everything.

Not because Jesus promised him anything.

But because Jesus deserved honor even in death.

Modern Christianity wants clean obedience.

Safe obedience.

Obedience that doesn't cost you Passover.

But Joseph shows us something different:

True discipleship gets your hands dirty.

You want to follow Jesus?

Then stop avoiding the messy parts.

Stop waiting for clean opportunities.

Stop demanding that obedience be convenient.

Joseph climbed Golgotha when everyone else went home.

He wrapped a corpse when he could've stayed clean.

He missed the holiest day of his life to honor a dead "criminal."

He risked everything when there was no visible reward.

That's not religion.

That's worship.

The twist?

Three days later, that tomb was empty.

Joseph gave his grave to Jesus.

Jesus left it empty.

Forever.

Joseph thought he was burying God.

He was actually setting the stage for resurrection.

Your messy obedience?

God's using it too.

Even when you can't see it.

So here's the question:

What are you avoiding because it's too messy?

What obedience are you postponing because it's inconvenient?

What grave are you unwilling to give?

Joseph of Arimathea held death in his arms.

Got blood on his hands.

Missed Passover.

Lost his reputation.

And earned his name in all four Gospels.

Religion says "stay clean."

Discipleship says "get dirty."

Joseph chose discipleship.

What are you choosing?

—TBM

[Jeremiah Knight @iamrjknight]

When Truth Costs Everything

There comes a point in every believer’s life when the Gospel demands a choice. Sometimes it’s not between good and evil, but between truth and comfort. Between standing with Christ or standing with the crowd. Between keeping peace with people or keeping fidelity to the Word. That is when the Gospel stops being an idea and becomes a cross.

The true Gospel is not a social accessory. It divides before it unites. It calls us to die before we live. It draws a line between those who will bow to Christ and those who will not. Jesus never said, “Follow Me, and everyone will applaud.” He said, “If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me” (Luke 9:23). That cross often means losing people we love for the sake of the truth we cannot abandon.

In an age that prizes acceptance above conviction, many soften the Gospel so they can keep both. They trim truth to fit relationships and silence conviction to maintain peace. But every compromise that preserves friendship at the cost of fidelity is not love - it is betrayal. Christ did not call us to be liked but to be loyal. When He said, “Do not think that I came to bring peace on earth; I did not come to bring peace but a sword” (Matthew 10:34), He warned us that following Him would often put us at odds with those closest to us.

The tragedy of modern Christianity is that we’ve mistaken popularity for fruitfulness. We measure success by applause rather than obedience. Yet the prophets were never cheered, the apostles were never celebrated, and the Lord Himself was crucified by the very people who claimed to love God. Why should we expect any different?

The Gospel will cost you something. For some, it will cost friendships. For others, family ties. For many, the comfort of fitting in. But what it gives in return is worth more than the world - the peace of knowing that you have not denied your Lord. “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?” (Matthew 16:26)

There will always be those who say truth divides. They are right - it does. But it divides light from darkness, wheat from tares, and sheep from goats. It divides false peace from true reconciliation. And when the world is burning with lies, division for truth is not arrogance but faithfulness.

So if holding to the Gospel isolates you, rejoice. You stand in the company of those who chose eternal truth over temporary approval. The world may forget your name, but heaven will never forget your stand.

Better to walk alone with Christ than with a crowd without Him.

[The Biblical Man @Biblicalman]

they tell you God is love
like that settles everything.
like you can F up forever
and call it grace.
like the drunk can stay drunk
the liar can keep lying
and God’s just fine with it
because ‘He loves you as you are.’
but here’s what they don’t say:

modern church turned love into permission.
‘God loves you just as you are’
sounds beautiful
until you realize they mean
He loves you too much to ask you to change.
that’s not love.
that’s a bartender who keeps pouring
while you bleed out on the floor.
nobody’s getting sober that way.
nobody’s getting free.
your pastor calls it grace.
I would call it a con.

Jesus told the woman caught in adultery
‘Neither do I condemn you.’ (John 8:11)
beautiful, right?
the church stops reading there.
but He didn’t stop talking:
‘Go and sin no more.’
not ‘find community that affirms you.’
not ‘God made you this way.’
not ‘your truth is valid.’
Go. And. Sin. No. More.
that’s love.
the kind that doesn’t let you bleed out
while calling it acceptance.
the kind that names the knife
and tells you to drop it.

you think God hates sinners?
He sent His Son to die for them.
but here’s what your pastor won’t tell you:
repentance isn’t optional.
it’s the entry fee.
‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ (Matthew 3:2)
not ‘celebrate your identity.’
not ‘God accepts you exactly as you are.’
Repent.
Turn around.
Die to what’s killing you.
‘If you love me, keep my commandments.’ (John 14:15)
not suggestions.
not guidelines for optimal living.
commandments.
or don’t.
but stop calling rebellion ‘love.’
stop calling bondage ‘freedom.’

the drunk doesn’t need you to say
drinking’s fine in moderation.
the liar doesn’t need permission
to call deception ‘authenticity.’
the sexually broken don’t need you
to celebrate what’s destroying them.
they need someone to say:
you’re dying.
and the thing killing you has a name.
God loves you enough to name it.
enough to tell you to stop.
enough to die so you could be free from it.
most Christians love you too little
to ruin your comfort.
they’ll watch you drown
and call it grace.

God loves sinners.
That’s why He tells them to repent.
Modern Christianity loves comfort.
That’s why it tells them they’re fine.
Choose which love you want.
Follow @biblicalman for uncomfortable truth.
Not therapy. Warfare.
—TBM

[Name @Name_2point0]

@andrew_flas I need more simon