The Vineyard and the White Whale: A Parable for an Unsettled Age


There was a kingdom by the sea where a modest vineyard grew on a quiet rise. It wasn’t impressive, yet it endured every storm. It bore fruit in seasons when other fields failed. It stood as a quiet contradiction to the loud voices of the age.

One man in the kingdom could not bear the sight of it. He was a man of influence, accustomed to shaping the mood of the crowd. But the vineyard unsettled him. It contradicted the story he told about the world. It bore fruit he insisted could not exist. And so, the vineyard became, in his mind, an offense.

He convinced himself that if he could just uproot it, the unease inside him would finally be quiet.

But the vineyard was not his.

And that truth gnawed at him.

He brooded. He rehearsed grievances until they hardened into certainty. Soon the vineyard was no longer a patch of land — it was a symbol of everything he despised. He rallied others to hate it with him. He painted it as a threat to the kingdom’s stability. He insisted that the realm could not stand while that vineyard stood.

Elijah had once confronted a king just like this — a man who wanted what was not his, a man who mistook desire for destiny. The prophet warned him that coveting another man’s inheritance would cost him more than he imagined. But the warning was forgotten, and the pattern repeated.

Across the sea, another man sailed with a similar fire in his bones. Melville would later author his story — a captain who let a single wound become his compass. A white whale had crossed his path, and instead of healing, he fed his injury until it became an obsession. Every sunrise was measured by how close he was to the creature he hated. Every decision bent toward the chase.

Both men believed the same lie:

“If I can destroy the thing that troubles me, the world will finally be set right.”

But the vineyard did not trouble the king. And the whale did not trouble the captain. Their own hearts did.

And while they raged, the world around them trembled.

Borders shifted. Nations armed. Old powers stirred. New powers rose. The tides of history moved like deep waters beneath a sleeping ship.

But neither man noticed. Their eyes were fixed on a single point, and everything outside that point faded into shadow.


The Moral of the Story

And in the days that followed, the kingdom learned what neither Ahab ever could.

When hatred becomes the single bead on the string, it swallows every other color. It dulls the eyes until beauty looks threatening. It numbs the ears until wisdom sounds like deceit. It twists the mind until truth feels dangerous and lies feel safe. It blinds people to what is good, and it blinds them even more to what is right.

The king had sworn the vineyard was poison. The captain had sworn the whale was evil. But the poison was in their own vision, and the evil was in the obsession that hollowed them out.

“The light of the body is the eye,” the Scripture says, “and if the eye is evil, the whole body is full of darkness.” (Matthew 6:22–23)

Their eyes had turned evil — not with violence, but with fixation. And the darkness that followed was of their own making.

The vineyard is still growing. The whale still swam. Nothing the obsessed man did altered either one. His hatred had no power over the thing he despised, so it turned inward and fed him instead.

And any obsession fastened to an unreachable prize will end the same way — consuming the one who clings to it while the prize itself remains untouched.

The prophets had warned of this long before:

“They have eyes, but they see not; ears, but they hear not.” (Psalm 115:5–6)

A blindness chosen, not imposed.

And while the obsessed narrowed their sight to a single target, the world around them shifted. Borders trembled. Nations armed. Old powers stirred. New powers rose. The tides of history moved like deep waters beneath a sleeping ship.

But the obsessed did not see it. They could not. Their hatred had become their compass, and it pointed nowhere but inward.

So, the kingdom learned a hard truth:

A nation fixated on destroying one figure loses the ability to discern the forces shaping its destiny. A people who let hatred guide them will walk straight into the dangers they refuse to see. Obsession does not merely distort reason — it devours it. And when reason is gone, the world can burn unnoticed.

As it is written:

“Be sober, be vigilant; for your adversary the devil walks about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” (1 Peter 5:8)

The lion did not devour them through the vineyard. Nor through the whale. He devoured them through the obsession they chose.

WHEN A NATION REFUSES TO HONOR GOD: A ROMANS 1 AUTOPSY OF AMERICA’S SPIRITUAL COLLAPSE


ICE protestors crash Sunday Service causing a disturbance.

And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done. 29 They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, 30 slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, 31 foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. 32 Though they know God’s righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them. Romans 1:28-32

There are judgments in Scripture that come with thunder, fire, and plague. But Romans 1 describes a quieter judgment — one far more terrifying because it is so easy to miss. It is the judgment of abandonment. It is the moment when God stops restraining a people’s desires. He simply lets them have what they insist on pursuing.

Paul describes it three times with the same chilling phrase:
“God gave them over.”
(Romans 1:24, 26, 28)

This is not God losing patience.
This is God honoring human choice.

And Romans 1 tells us exactly why it happens, how it unfolds, what it produces, and where it ends. It is the inspired roadmap of a society that refuses to honor God. It is also the prophetic mirror of our own moment.


I. THE ROOT CAUSE: THEY KNEW GOD BUT REFUSED TO HONOR HIM

Paul begins with the indictment:

“Because, although they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God, nor were thankful…”
Romans 1:21

This is not ignorance.
This is rejection.

A people can know about God and sing to God. They can celebrate Christian holidays and quote Scripture in speeches. Yet, they can still refuse to honor Him as God.

Jesus described this condition with painful accuracy:

“These people honor Me with their lips,
but their heart is far from Me.”

Matthew 15:8

This is the quiet tragedy of our age.

We have embraced a manageable Jesus — the baby in the manger, the gentle teacher, and the crucified victim. However, we have not embraced the risen King whose eyes are like fire (Revelation 1:14). We want a Savior, not a Sovereign. We want forgiveness, not obedience. We want comfort, not conviction.

And here is the truth we must recover:

If He is not Lord of all,
He is not Lord at all.


II. THE FIRST EFFECT: FUTILE THINKING AND DARKENED HEARTS

Once a people refuse to honor God, the mind begins to collapse.

Paul writes:

“…they became futile in their thoughts, and their foolish hearts were darkened.”
Romans 1:21

This is not the absence of thinking — it is the collapse of thinking.

It is the intellectual decay of a culture.

Paul later describes this same condition:

“Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.”
2 Timothy 3:7

We live in the most “educated” generation in history — and the most confused.
That is not progress.
That is judgment.


III. THE SECOND EFFECT: CLAIMING WISDOM WHILE BECOMING FOOLS

Paul continues:

“Professing to be wise, they became fools…”
Romans 1:22

This is the arrogance of a culture that believes it has outgrown God.

We see it everywhere:

  • redefining morality
  • redefining identity
  • redefining biology
  • redefining family
  • redefining truth

A society that rejects God does not become neutral — it becomes foolish.

Isaiah described this inversion:

“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil…”
Isaiah 5:20

We are living in that woe.


IV. THE THIRD EFFECT: EXCHANGING THE GLORY OF GOD FOR IMAGES

Paul writes:

“They exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for images…”
Romans 1:23

Idolatry is not primitive.
Idolatry is modern.

We no longer bow to statues — we bow to screens, celebrities, ideologies, identities, and desires. We worship the created instead of the Creator. We trade the eternal for the temporary. We trade the holy for the hollow.

This is the spiritual vacuum left when a nation refuses to honor God.


V. THE FOURTH EFFECT: GOD GIVES THEM OVER — AND WE SEE IT IN OUR HEADLINES

This is the turning point.

Three times Paul repeats it:

“God gave them up…”
“God gave them up…”
“God gave them over…”

This is not God attacking a nation.
This is God abandoning a nation to its own desires.

And the evidence is everywhere.

We see it in the fraud and corruption that have become almost routine. These are cases where funds meant for feeding the poor are siphoned off through elaborate schemes. Officials entrusted with stewardship instead use their positions for personal gain. Paul warned that the last days would be filled with “lovers of themselves” and “lovers of money” (2 Timothy 3:2), and we see that spirit in every scandal where those in power enrich themselves while the vulnerable are left hungry.

We see it in the erosion of truth. “My truth” replaces the truth. Entire movements embrace the idea of autonomy. They assert that not God, Scripture, nor biology has the authority to define reality. Paul said their thinking would become futile. This futility is evident in a culture that treats truth as a personal accessory. It is seen rather than a divine standard.

We see it in the lawlessness that fills our streets. Protests turn violent. Destruction is excused as expression. Mobs are celebrated, while those tasked with maintaining order are vilified. Paul said the last days would be marked by people who are “without self-control” and “despisers of good” (2 Timothy 3:3), and we see that inversion every time criminal behavior is applauded while those trying to restrain it are demonized.

We see it in the entitlement mentality. Slogans like “You owe me,” “Give me what I deserve,” and “Tax the rich” echo through the culture. Paul said the last days would be filled with people who are “unthankful” (2 Timothy 3:2). We see that spirit in every movement that demands blessing without responsibility. They want reward without labor and justice without repentance.

We see it in the breakdown of the family, the very institution God established as the foundation of society. Paul said people would be “without natural affection” (2 Timothy 3:3). We see that tragedy in the heartbreaking cases where children harm parents and parents harm children. The natural love that once held families together has been replaced by rage, resentment, or apathy.

We see it in the celebration of rebellion. Rallies proudly proclaim “No kings.” They do not realize that rejecting earthly authority often reflects rejecting heavenly authority. Psalm 2 describes nations that “cast off His cords” and say, “We will not have this Man to rule over us.” That ancient rebellion still thrives today. It exists in a culture that despises restraint. Additionally, it mocks the very idea of divine rule.

These are not isolated incidents.
They are not random headlines.
They are not political talking points.

They are the visible fruit of a Romans 1 society — a people who “knew God but did not honor Him as God,” and who are now living out the consequences of that rejection.


VI. THE FIFTH EFFECT: A REPROBATE MIND

Paul concludes:

“God gave them over to a debased mind, to do those things which are not fitting.”
Romans 1:28

A reprobate mind is a mind that can no longer recognize truth.
Not because truth is gone — but because the heart has rejected it.

Isaiah described the final stage:

“Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.”
Isaiah 22:13

When truth is gone, meaning is gone.
When meaning is gone, pleasure becomes the only pursuit.
When pleasure becomes the only pursuit, destruction is inevitable.

This is the end of a nation that refuses to honor God.


VII. THE ONLY CURE: RETURNING TO THE LORDSHIP OF CHRIST

The cure is not political.
The cure is not educational.
The cure is not technological.
The cure is not economic.

Jesus did not say:

The cure is a Person.

“You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”
John 8:32

“I teach the truth.”
“I point to the truth.”
“I reveal the truth.”

He said:

“I AM the truth.”
John 14:6

Truth is not a concept.
Truth is not a perspective.
Truth is not a feeling.
Truth is a King.

And He alone can break the delusion.

He alone can restore the mind.
He alone can cleanse the heart.
He alone can heal a nation.

Freedom is not found in “your truth.”
Freedom is found in The Truth.


Conclusion: The Watchman’s Warning

Romans 1 is not ancient history.
It is a prophetic map of our moment.

The cause is clear:
We refused to honor God.

The effects are visible:
Futile thinking, darkened hearts, moral inversion, cultural delusion.

The end is dangerous:
A reprobate mind that cannot recognize truth.

And the cure is singular:
Return to Christ. Honor Him as Lord. Submit to His truth. Walk in His light.

This is the message the world does not want but desperately needs.
This is the message the church must recover.
This is the message the watchmen must proclaim.

TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS: The Furnace That Forms the Faithful


Believers experience seasons in life when the heat rises. The pressure tightens during these times. The path ahead seems to glow with the unmistakable shimmer of a furnace door opening. Scripture never pretends otherwise. Jesus Himself told His disciples, “In this world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Tribulation is not a sign that something has gone wrong. It is the evidence that something is being formed.

I. The Furnace No One Volunteers For

From Genesis to Revelation, God’s people are shaped in places no one would choose. Abraham climbs Moriah with trembling hands. Joseph is lowered into a pit and later confined in a prison. David hides in caves while carrying a king’s anointing. The apostles weather storms that threaten to swallow their boat whole. The pattern is consistent: God forms His people in fire, not in ease.

Peter reminds us that none of this should surprise us: “Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you” (1 Peter 4:12). The furnace is not an anomaly. It is a classroom. It is a forge. It is the place where faith is not merely professed but proven.

II. The Purpose of the Heat

Fire in Scripture is never random. It is always purposeful, always intentional, always directed by the hand of a God who wastes nothing.

Peter explains that trials refine faith the way fire refines gold. They burn away impurities so that what remains is genuine and precious (1 Peter 1:6–7). Malachi describes the Lord as a refiner and purifier of silver. He sits attentively over the flame until the dross is removed. The reflection of the Refiner appears in the metal (Malachi 3:2–3). Isaiah echoes the same truth when God declares, “I have refined you, but not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction” (Isaiah 48:10).

And then there is the discipline of the Lord — not the discipline of rejection, but the discipline of belonging. “For whom the Lord loves He chastens… if you are without chastening… then you are illegitimate and not sons” (Hebrews 12:6–8). The heat is not the anger of God. It is the affirmation that you are His.

III. The Baptism Few Prepare For

John the Baptist announced two baptisms: one of the Spirit and one of fire. “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matthew 3:11). The church has always celebrated the first. We sing about the Spirit’s refreshing, His filling, His power. But the baptism of fire is real. It is necessary. It is very much a part of the Christian life.

The Spirit empowers, but the fire purifies. The Spirit fills, but the fire transforms. The Spirit equips, but the fire removes what can’t remain.

Isaiah saw the coal touch his lips before he could speak for God (Isaiah 6:6–7). Jeremiah felt the Word burn within him like fire shut up in his bones (Jeremiah 20:9). The disciples saw tongues of fire rest upon them before they stepped into their calling (Acts 2:3–4). Fire precedes function. Purity precedes power.

IV. The God Who Steps Into the Flames

The enemy loves to whisper that the fire is proof of abandonment. Yet Scripture reveals the opposite. The furnace is the place where God’s presence becomes unmistakable.

Nebuchadnezzar threw Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego into the flames. He saw a fourth Man walking with them. This Man looked like “the Son of God” (Daniel 3:24–25). The fire did not consume them; it consumed their ropes. The flames did not destroy them; they revealed the One who stood beside them.

David testified to this reality long before Babylon’s furnace. He said, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you… when you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you” (Isaiah 43:2). God does not meet His people after the fire. He meets them in it.

V. The Witness of the Watching World

The world is always watching how the people of God walk through adversity. Nebuchadnezzar did not glorify God when the Hebrews refused to bow. He glorified God when they walked out of the furnace without the smell of smoke (Daniel 3:27–28).

Paul and Silas sang hymns in a prison cell, and the prisoners listened to them (Acts 16:25). Their endurance became the catalyst for a jailer’s salvation. Peter instructs believers to be prepared to give an answer for the hope within them. This hope is most visible when circumstances should have extinguished it (1 Peter 3:15).

Your trial is never just about you. It becomes a testimony for those who have no language for faith until they see it survive the fire.

VI. The Transformation on the Other Side

When God brings His people out of a furnace, they emerge with something they did not possess before. Job, after walking through unimaginable suffering, declared, “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You” (Job 42:5). The fire clarifies vision. It deepens understanding. It strips away illusions.

James tells us that trials produce patience, and patience produces maturity, leaving the believer “perfect and complete, lacking nothing” (James 1:2–4). Paul adds that tribulation produces perseverance, character, and hope — a hope that does not disappoint (Romans 5:3–5).

The furnace graduates the faithful. It does not leave them where it found them.

VII. The Seal: What the Fire Cannot Touch

The flames may touch your circumstances, but they cannot touch your calling. They may shake your emotions, but they cannot shake your election. They may burn away what is temporary, but they cannot scorch what is eternal.

Paul writes with unshakable certainty: “We are hard‑pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:8–9). The fire forms the faithful, but it never destroys the chosen.

And Peter closes the loop by reminding us that after we have suffered “a little while,” the God of all grace will “perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle” us (1 Peter 5:10). The furnace is not the end. It is the formation.

PLAYOFF FAITH — RUN TO WIN


1 Corinthians 9:24-26


Imagine a sharp, high-definition shot from a night playoff game. Stadium lights cut through the cold air. Breath is visible from the linemen at the line of scrimmage. Grass is torn up under cleats. A roaring crowd is pressed in on all sides. On the field, helmets collide, jerseys stretch, and every yard is fought for. In the stands, thousands of hands are raised. Voices are lifted. Hearts are fully engaged. Yet only twenty-two people are actually in the game.

That’s the picture Paul presses into when he writes:“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.”1 Corinthians 9:24

Every athlete starts the season with the same uniform. They have the same schedule. Everyone faces the same long list of practices and meetings. Film sessions are also part of the routine. In the same way, many believers step into the life of faith. They put on the “uniform.” They attend services. They lift their hands in worship. They learn the language of the kingdom. But Paul’s words cut through a dangerous assumption: simply being on the team does not guarantee the trophy. Not everyone who runs wins. Not everyone who shows up finishes with a crown.

There is a subtle mindset that creeps into the church. It is much like the attitude of some fans in the stands. They think, “I’m here, I’m cheering, I’m emotionally invested — so I’m part of the action.” The stadium needs spectators, but the scoreboard only tracks what happens on the field. In the same way, Christianity was never meant to be a spectator sport. It is not just about watching, reacting, and commenting from a distance. It is a participation calling — a summons onto the field, into the contact, into the cost.

Paul won’t let us hide in the bleachers. He pulls us down to field level and says, in essence: Look around. Everyone is running. Everyone is moving. Everyone appears busy. But only those who run with intention, discipline, and focus actually obtain the prize. That is the difference between regular-season faith and what we call Playoff Faith.

Regular-season faith is content to be present. Playoff Faith is determined to prevail.

Paul continues:“Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable.”— 1 Corinthians 9:25

Players on the field will push their bodies to the edge of exhaustion. They will study film deep into the night. They will live with relentless focus. All of this effort is for a trophy that will gather dust and a ring that will one day be buried. They do all of that for a glory that fades as soon as the next season starts. Meanwhile, believers are called to train for a crown that will never tarnish. It will never crack, never be outdated, and never be replaced.

Yet if we are honest, many of us have given more discipline to our hobbies, our careers, our favorite teams, and our entertainment than we have to the race of faith.

Paul refuses to preach from a safe distance. He does not see himself as a commentator in the booth, narrating the game while others take the hits. Listen to his language:“So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”— 1 Corinthians 9:26–27

This is not fear talking; it is focus. This man understands that calling is not the same as finishing. He knows gifting is not the same as winning. He knows that the uniform gives you access, but discipline brings advancement. He refuses to assume that being on the roster of preachers automatically places him on the podium of finishers.

This is where Playoff Faith is born. It doesn’t emerge in the spotlight. It grows in the quiet, unseen choices that separate contenders from the crowd. The ones who advance in the kingdom are not always the most talented. They are not always the most visible or the most loudly cheered. They are the ones who refuse to coast. The ones who refuse to confuse attendance with endurance. The ones who refuse to settle for a spiritual participation trophy when God has placed a real crown within reach.

Playoff Faith is the faith that steps out of the stands and onto the field. It’s the believer who decides, I will not only sing about surrender; I will actually surrender. I will not only clap for obedience; I will actually obey. I will not only cheer for others who run; I will run my own race to win. Christianity is not something we watch; it’s something we walk. It is not something we consume; it’s something we carry.

Playoff Faith wakes with purpose. It trains when no one is watching. It guards the heart when compromise whispers, “Just ease up. You’re doing more than most.” It keeps running when the season gets long and the hits get heavy. It remembers there is a finish line ahead. There is a real reward beyond it. It takes Paul’s words seriously: not everyone who enters the race wins the crown. Everyone who runs to obtain it has a real chance to finish with that crown in hand.

This is the invitation God puts before us. It is not to run casually. It is not to drift. It is not to live as if the outcome is automatic. The invitation is to run with fierce determination, to run with focused determination. That includes seeking the pleasure of God. It involves experiencing the joy of obedience. It testifies to a life that did more than watch from the stands.

You might feel small as a single player in a massive stadium. However, heaven is not judging you based on your seat. It is watching your race.

Playoff Faith does not settle for being on the team. Playoff Faith refuses the comfort of the bleachers. Playoff Faith runs, and trains, and presses, and finishes —to win.

🏈 BENEDICTION — FOR THOSE WHO RUN TO WIN

May the Lord strengthen your stride, discipline your heart, and focus your eyes on the imperishable crown.

May you refuse the comfort of the bleachers, the drift of casual faith, and the illusion that presence equals victory.
May you run with purpose, train with fire, and finish with joy.
And when the hits come, when the season stretches, when the crowd thins —may you remember that heaven does not reward the loudest cheer, but the deepest endurance.
You were not made to spectate. You were called to participate. You were chosen to run.
So run to win.
In Jesus’ name —
Amen.

Trust in a Digital Age


When Knowledge Increases but Wisdom Decreases

Daniel 12:4 — “But you, Daniel, shut up the words and seal the book, until the time of the end. Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall increase.” (ESV)

Daniel’s prophecy describes a world marked by constant movement and an unprecedented surge in knowledge. That vision has matured in our generation. We live in a time when information expands at a staggering pace. Data flows continuously. The accumulated knowledge of humanity is accessible within seconds. Yet for all this abundance, wisdom has not increased alongside it. Instead, we have become a people who gather information endlessly while struggling to arrive at truth.

Paul captured this condition with piercing clarity when he wrote that there would be those who are “always learning and never able to arrive at a knowledge of the truth” (2 Timothy 3:7, ESV). It is entirely possible to be surrounded by information and yet remain untouched by revelation. Knowledge alone cannot steady the soul, and information alone cannot anchor a life. Truth is not discovered through volume but through encounter, and encounter requires a heart that is willing to listen.

The Dulling of Spiritual Senses

Hebrews 5:14 — “But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.” (ESV)

The writer of Hebrews explains why so many lose their way in an age of endless information. Discernment is not an automatic byproduct of exposure to knowledge. It is the fruit of consistent obedience, intentional listening, and a life shaped by the presence of God. When people stop exercising their spiritual senses, those senses weaken. When they no longer practice discernment, they lose the ability to recognize what is good and what is evil. They also lose the ability to see what is wise and what is foolish. Furthermore, they struggle to discern what is true and what is merely appealing.

Technology accelerates this dullness when it becomes a substitute for seeking God. It offers answers without intimacy, direction without relationship, and connection without covenant. It promises clarity but delivers only noise. It gives the illusion of maturity without the substance of it. In a world where everything is immediate, discernment becomes inconvenient, and the slow work of spiritual formation feels unnecessary. Yet without it, the soul becomes vulnerable to every voice that speaks loudly and every system that promises ease.

The Fragile Power of Man‑Made Chariots

Psalm 20:7 — “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.” (ESV)

David lived in a world where nations placed their confidence in chariots and horses. These were the most advanced military technologies of their time. These machines were swift, powerful, and rapidly deployed. They gave kings confidence and armies a sense of invincibility. Yet David refused to place his trust in them. He understood that chariots, for all their strength, were fragile. A wheel break. A horse stumble. A battlefield can shift. In a single moment, a nation’s pride collapse. Their power was real, but it was not dependable. Their strength was visible, but it was not faithful.

The same is true of the “chariots” of our age. Our devices are fast, our networks powerful, and our systems astonishing in their reach. Yet they can fail without warning. A server can crash. A platform can disappear. A password can be compromised. A power grid can falter. A corporation can change direction. An algorithm can turn against the very people it once served. Behind every digital system stands an indifferent source of power. These structures do not know you. They do not love you. They do not care for your soul. They offer convenience but not covenant, access but not affection, information but not truth.

God, nonetheless, is steady, faithful, and unchanging. He does not fail, shut down, or withdraw access. He does not operate from indifference. He is invested in your good. He guards, guides, and keeps covenant. He watches over your soul and works all things for your good. He remains faithful when every human system collapses. Technology can serve you, but only God can save you. Tools can carry you quickly, but only God can carry you safely.

The Call Back to Discernment

Daniel warned that knowledge would increase. Paul warned that learning would not guarantee truth. Hebrews warns that discernment must be trained. Together these passages form a prophetic map for our moment. We live in a world overflowing with information. There is a generation starving for truth. The church is called to sharpen its senses again. This is not a call to reject technology but to refuse idolatry. It is a call to use tools without trusting them. It is a call to learn without losing truth. It is also a call to grow in knowledge without abandoning wisdom.

A Prayer for the Digital Age

Lord, train my senses again. Sharpen my discernment. Guard me from the illusion that more information means more truth. Teach me to use the tools of this age without bowing to them. Let my trust rest not in the works of human hands but in Your voice, Your wisdom, and Your presence. Make me mature in discernment, steady in truth, and faithful in a world that has forgotten how to listen.

This has been a View From the Nest. And that is the way I see it. What say you?