Wanderers Are Never Conquerors

Why Most Believers Never Cross the Jordan

The Tragedy of a Backward Glance

Most believers never cross the Jordan because they never stop looking back. They do not look back to sin as much as they look back to familiarity. They look back to tradition, predictability, and the comfort of what they already understand. They look back to the “way we’ve always done it,” even when the way they’ve always done it has never produced transformation. They look back to Egypt, not because Egypt was good, but because Egypt was known. Scripture says, “They said to one another, ‘Let us choose a leader and go back to Egypt.’” [Numbers 14:4]

This backward glance is not harmless. It is fatal. It is the very reason an entire generation died in the wilderness. They were delivered from bondage, but bondage was not delivered from them. They were physically free, but mentally enslaved. They were out of Egypt, but Egypt was not out of them.

The Grumblers Were the Wanderers

The wilderness generation is remembered for one defining trait: they murmured. They complained. They resisted. They doubted. They questioned God’s goodness, God’s timing, and God’s leadership. Scripture records God’s indictment: “All the men who have seen My glory and My signs that I did in Egypt and in the wilderness, and yet have tested Me these ten times and have not obeyed My voice, shall not see the land that I swore to give to their fathers.” [Numbers 14:22–23]

The grumblers were the wanderers. And the wanderers were the ones who died in the wilderness. They never tasted the fruit of the Promised Land. They lived on manna when God offered them vineyards they did not plant and cities they did not build. They lived on survival when God intended inheritance.

The Wilderness Is a Circle, Not a Journey

The wilderness is not a destination. It is a holding pattern. It is a place where God waits for unbelief to die. Scripture says, “The Lord’s anger was kindled against Israel, and He made them wander in the wilderness forty years, until all the generation that had done evil in the sight of the Lord was gone.” [Numbers 32:13]

The wilderness is full of people who think they are moving forward but are actually going in circles. They attend services, but they do not surrender. They sing songs, but they do not obey. They hear sermons, but they do not change. They know the language of faith, but not the life of faith. They are active, but not advancing. Busy, but not becoming. In motion, but not in transformation.

The Jordan Is a One‑Way Crossing

Crossing the Jordan is not a casual step. It is a decisive break. It is the moment when a believer leaves behind the wilderness mindset and steps into the inheritance God prepared. It is the moment when faith becomes obedience, and obedience becomes movement. Scripture says, “Joshua said to the people, ‘Consecrate yourselves, for tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you.’” [Joshua 3:5]

The Jordan represents consecration, identity, maturity, and calling. Once Israel crossed, there was no path back to the wilderness. No path back to manna. No path back to wandering. No path back to Egypt. The Jordan is a one‑way crossing. It is the place where God says, “Every place that the sole of your foot will tread upon I have given to you.” [Joshua 1:3]

But most believers never reach that point because they are still looking over their shoulder. They are still longing for the familiar. They are still anchored to the past. They are still shaped by tradition. They are still defined by what was instead of what God is calling them to become.

Lot’s Wife: The Icon of a Divided Heart

Lot’s wife did not look back because she loved sin. She looked back because she loved familiarity. She looked back because she could not release the life she built, the rhythms she knew, and the world she understood. Scripture says, “But Lot’s wife, behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.” [Genesis 19:26]

She froze between two worlds. She could not move forward because her heart was still behind her. She is the picture of the modern believer—one foot in worship, one foot in tradition; one foot in calling, one foot in comfort; one foot in the Spirit, one foot in the familiar. Frozen. Stuck. Unable to ascend.

You Cannot Conquer What You Refuse to Enter

The Promised Land was filled with fruit, but Israel could not taste it until they crossed. Scripture says, “They came to the Valley of Eshcol and cut down from there a branch with a single cluster of grapes, and they carried it on a pole between two of them.” [Numbers 13:23] The fruit was real. The promise was real. The inheritance was real. But the people who doubted never tasted it.

You cannot conquer what you refuse to enter. You cannot inherit what you refuse to pursue. You cannot walk in promise while clinging to the wilderness. You cannot step into destiny while looking back at Egypt.

Wanderers Are Never Conquerors

This is the truth the modern church must face: Wanderers are never conquerors. Wanderers do not take cities. Wanderers do not defeat giants. Wanderers do not inherit promise. Wanderers do not walk in authority. Wanderers do not experience transformation. Wanderers do not see the wonders of God.

Only those who cross the Jordan—those who consecrate themselves, those who stop looking back, those who release the familiar, those who embrace the upward call—become conquerors.

Scripture declares, “But the people who know their God shall be strong and do exploits.” [Daniel 11:32] Exploits are not for wanderers. They are for warriors. They are for those who move forward. They are for those who cross.

The Call to Move Forward

The God of Scripture is calling His people out of the wilderness and into inheritance. He is calling them to stop circling the same mountains. He is calling them to stop longing for the familiar. He is calling them to stop looking back. He is calling them to cross the Jordan.

He is calling them to believe again. To obey again. To consecrate again. To move again. To trust again. To ascend again.

For the promise still stands: “Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” [Joshua 1:9]

Wanderers are never conquerors. But those who cross—those who rise—those who obey—those who refuse to look back—become the people who take the land.

Where Did You Park Your God?

Group of robed people holding torches worshipping a large golden calf statue outdoors at night

An Editorial on the Golden Calf of Convenience

There is a question every believer must eventually face, though most spend their entire lives avoiding it: Where did you park your God this week? Did you leave Him in the pew last Sunday, waiting for you like a forgotten coat? Did you leave Him in the car until next weekend, tucked between the fast‑food wrappers and the worship playlist? Do you wear Him around your neck like jewelry, a symbol of faith that never reaches the heart? Or did you leave Him at the altar because He asked too much of you?

The uncomfortable truth is that many believers do not worship the God of Scripture. They worship a manageable version of Him—one they can carry, control, schedule, and silence. A God who stays where they put Him. A God who never disrupts their plans. A God who fits neatly into their routine. A God who never calls them higher. A God who never confronts their idols. A God who never demands ascent.

The God of Scripture Does Not Fit in Your Pocket

The God of Scripture is not manageable. He is not containable. He is not portable. He is not a charm, a token, or a Sunday accessory. He is the God who calls His people upward, not downward. He is the God who says, “Come up to Me on the mountain and stay there.” [Exodus 24:12] He is the God who descends in fire and thunder, whose presence makes the earth tremble and the people tremble with it. He is the God who cannot be shaped, reduced, or domesticated.

And that is precisely why Israel built a golden calf.

Why Israel Built a Golden Calf

They did not build it because they wanted a new god. They built it because they refused to ascend to the real One. Scripture says, “When the people saw that Moses delayed to come down from the mountain, the people gathered themselves together to Aaron and said to him, ‘Up, make us gods who shall go before us.’” [Exodus 32:1] They did not want the mountain. They did not want the fire. They did not want the voice. They did not want the holiness. They did not want the transformation.

They wanted a god who stayed at ground level, a god who did not call them higher, a god who did not demand surrender.

So they dragged God down to their level and shaped Him into something familiar.

The Modern Golden Calf

Modern believers do the same every weekend. They do not ascend to God; they reshape Him into something they can manage. They fashion a god who fits their preferences, their comfort, their tradition, their schedule. They worship a god who never confronts them, never convicts them, never calls them to repentance, never demands holiness, never interrupts their service order, and never asks them to bow in total surrender. They worship a god who fits in their pocket, not a God who fills the heavens.

This is why modern worship feels hollow. This is why the atmosphere is thin. This is why the posture of the people reveals the absence of the presence.

The Posture That Reveals the Presence

When God truly appears, people do not stand casually with their hands in their pockets. They do not scroll their phones. They do not sip coffee. They do not whisper to their neighbor. They fall. They tremble. They bow. They collapse under the weight of glory.

Scripture says, “The priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord.” [1 Kings 8:11] When Isaiah saw the Lord, he cried, “Woe is me! For I am undone.” [Isaiah 6:5] When Ezekiel saw Him, he said, “I fell on my face.” [Ezekiel 1:28] When John saw Him, he wrote, “I fell at His feet as though dead.” [Revelation 1:17]

The posture tells the truth. If the people never bow, the presence never came.

The Tragedy of a Manageable God

The tragedy is that many believers think they are worshiping God when they are actually worshiping a golden calf—polished, emotional, musical, familiar, and entirely manageable. They sing Scripture songs and hymns, but they do not expect an encounter. They raise their hands, but they do not surrender their hearts. They attend services, but they do not ascend the mountain. They honor Him with their lips, but their hearts remain far from Him. Jesus Himself said, “This people honors Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me.” [Matthew 15:8]

And like Israel, they keep looking back. They look back to tradition, not necessarily because it is holy, but because it is familiar. They look back to the “way we’ve always done it,” even when the way they’ve always done it has never produced transformation. They look back to predictable worship, predictable sermons, predictable routines. They look back to Egypt, not because Egypt was good, but because Egypt was known. Scripture says, “They said to one another, ‘Let us choose a leader and go back to Egypt.’” [Numbers 14:4]

Once You Cross the Jordan, You Cannot Go Back

The Promised Land is for those who move forward, not for those who cling to the past. The wilderness is full of people who never crossed because they never stopped looking back. Scripture says, “All the men who had seen My glory and My signs… yet have tested Me these ten times… shall not see the land that I swore to give to their fathers.” [Numbers 14:22–23] They died with manna on their breath and Egypt in their hearts. They lived on survival when God offered inheritance.

And this is the indictment of the modern church: Most believers never cross the Jordan because they never stop looking back. They cling to tradition, routine, predictability, and familiarity. They cling to a god they can manage. They cling to a worship they can control. They cling to a faith that never demands ascent. They cling to a golden calf because the mountain terrifies them.

The God Who Calls Us Higher

But the God of Scripture is not a god you can park. He is not a god you can schedule. He is not a god you can carry. He is the God who carries you. He is the God who calls you upward. He is the God who says, “Consecrate yourselves, for tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you.” [Joshua 3:5] He is the God who says, “You shall have no other gods before Me.” [Exodus 20:3] He is the God who says, “Be holy, for I am holy.” [1 Peter 1:16] He is the God who says, “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” [James 4:8]

A God you can carry is not a God who can carry you. A God who fits in your schedule is not the God who parted the sea. A God who stays where you left Him is not the God of Scripture.

And if your God never calls you higher, you are not worshiping Him. You are worshiping a golden calf.

WHAT MUST COME DOWN BEFORE GOING UP

A Resurrection Reality Check for a Farcical Season

The Rhythm of Descent and Ascent

There is a rhythm woven into the Kingdom of God that the world cannot imitate and religion cannot counterfeit. It is the rhythm of holy descent followed by God‑given ascent, the pattern of a God who steps down so that He may raise the humble up. Heaven’s gravity works in reverse. What comes down in God’s hands does not remain down, because the Lord delights in lifting the lowly. Before anything rises in the Kingdom, something must bow. Before anything is exalted, something must kneel. Before anything goes up, something must come down.

This is not punishment but posture. It is the way of Christ, the way of the cross, and the way of every saint who has ever been raised by the power of God.

The Pattern of Humility from the Beginning

Moses came down from the mountain carrying the Word, the covenant, and the revelation of God’s character. “When Moses came down from Mount Sinai… the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.” (Exodus 34:29). Yet Israel did not rejoice in what came down. They were too busy worshiping what they had lifted up, a golden calf of their own making. Humanity has always preferred what ascends when we are the ones climbing. We build towers, chase platforms, exalt ourselves, and admire the view from the top.

But God overturns this instinct. The Kingdom begins with going down, not in defeat but in humility, not in shame but in surrender, not in weakness but in obedience.

The Descent of Christ: The Model of All Humility

Jesus did not descend because He was defeated. He descended because He was humble. “Though He was in the form of God, He did not consider equality with God something to cling to, but emptied Himself… He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:6–8). He came down from glory, laid down His rights, bowed down in obedience, and humbled Himself for our sake. His descent was not accidental but intentional. Because He went down in humility, the Father raised Him up in glory. “Therefore God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name.” (Philippians 2:9).

This is the law of the Kingdom: what bows low is lifted high.

Paul: Struck Down to Be Raised Up

Paul understood this truth because he lived it. He was the rising star of Judaism, educated, disciplined, respected, and zealous. Yet when Christ appeared, Paul had to be struck down before he could truly see. He fell to the ground, blinded and helpless. “He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?’” (Acts 9:4). Every accomplishment he once boasted in, he now called loss. “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” (Philippians 3:8).

Paul discovered that humility is not the lowest place but the safest place. It is the beginning of resurrection.

The Descent and Ascent of Jesus

Jesus came down from the cross lifeless and wrapped in linen. He went down into the grave sealed and guarded. He went down into the depths, into the territory hell believed it owned. “He also descended into the lower parts of the earth.” (Ephesians 4:9). Every downward step looked like loss, yet in the Kingdom, down is never the destination. It is the doorway.

The same Jesus who descended also rose. He went up the hill, up the mountain of transfiguration, up out of the grave, and up into heaven. “He was taken up, and a cloud received Him out of their sight.” (Acts 1:9). He will one day raise His people with Him. “He raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 2:6).

This is the divine reversal: what comes down in humility must go up in glory.

The Farce of Our Seasonal Jesus

Every year the church calendar reenacts the same tragic cycle. In December, Christ is placed back in the cradle—small, harmless, and sentimental. In spring, He is placed back in the tomb—tragic, noble, and safely contained. Then the props are packed away, the pageantry folded, and life returns to normal.

We reenact His birth, His death, and His burial, but we rarely reenact His reign. We do not enthrone Him, crown Him, or place Him at the center of our will. We keep Christ in the cradle because a baby makes no demands. We keep Christ in the tomb because a dead man issues no commands. But a risen, reigning Christ requires surrender.

We treat the resurrection as a holiday rather than a hierarchy, as a story rather than a sovereign, as a symbol rather than a King. This is why the calendar feels farcical: it keeps Christ rotating through roles He has already outgrown. He is not the baby in the manger, the victim on the cross, or the body in the tomb. He is the Head of the Church, the Lord of Glory, and the One seated far above all rule and authority.

Israel made the same mistake with the ark. They carried the ark on their shoulders, proud of their proximity to God, but they never embraced the God within the ark. They carried Him, but they never let Him carry them. We do the same. We carry Jesus into our holidays, traditions, and services, but we do not let Him carry our will, our obedience, or our lives.

The Real Resurrection Direction

The resurrection does not point down to the cradle, back to the cross, inward to our emotions, or outward to our traditions. The resurrection points up to the enthroned Christ who reigns now. The only way to rise with Him is to bow before Him. “Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time.” (1 Peter 5:6).

Humility is not the end of the journey but the beginning of resurrection. It is the doorway into the Kingdom. The proud cannot enter because the doorway is too low. The humble rise because they kneel.

A Call to Yield to the Risen King

Time is growing short, and the hour demands clarity. Christ is not waiting to be rediscovered in a cradle or reburied in a tomb. He is not a seasonal figure to be lifted up for a holiday and set aside when the calendar turns. He is the risen and reigning Lord, seated at the right hand of the Father, calling His people to bow before Him in humility and truth. The path upward begins with the posture downward. The Kingdom does not rise on the strength of the proud but on the surrender of the humble.

The psalmist understood this long before the empty tomb. “My heart is not proud, O Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother.” (Psalm 131:1–2). This is the posture of ascent. This is the doorway into resurrection life. This is the heart God lifts.

Let us therefore lay down our pride, our self‑importance, our insistence on carrying Christ on our shoulders while refusing to let Him carry us. Let us bow low before the One who descended in humility and rose in glory. Let us yield our will to the King who reigns, so that in due time He may lift us up. What comes down must go up, because the One who calls us to kneel is the same One who raises His people to stand with Him in the heavenly places.

Why is the Tent of Meeting Pitched Outside of the Camp?

WHEN GOD HONORS DISTANCE

There are moments in Scripture when the presence of God withdraws from the center of the people and takes up residence somewhere else. These moments are not random, nor are they mysterious. They are diagnostic. They reveal the spiritual condition of a people who have grown comfortable with distance, casual with holiness, and careless with the very presence that once defined them.

One of the earliest and clearest examples appears in Exodus, when the Tent of Meeting—God’s appointed place of encounter—was moved outside the camp. The people had chosen distance over intimacy, safety over surrender, and mediation over meeting. They told Moses, “Speak thou with us, and we will hear: but let not God speak with us, lest we die.” (Exodus 20:19, KJV) and God honored their request. The Tent was placed beyond the borders of their daily life, a silent testimony that the people preferred a God who stayed at arm’s length.

This is not merely history. It is a pattern. And patterns, once established, repeat themselves across generations.


THE ARK IN PHILISTINE HANDS: WHEN THE HOLY IS TREATED AS COMMON

Generations later, the Ark of the Covenant—the very symbol of God’s presence—found itself not merely outside the camp but in the hands of the Philistines. Israel had carried it into battle as a lucky charm, assuming God would honor their presence even though they had not honored His. They shouted, they celebrated, they presumed, but they did not repent. And God allowed the Ark to be taken.

When the holy is treated as common, God will let it be carried away.

The Philistines, terrified by the plagues that followed, eventually returned the Ark on a new cart pulled by oxen. Israel watched this. They saw it “work.” And because the Word had been neglected for so long, the method of the world became the model for the people of God. The Ark came home on a cart, and no one questioned it. The pattern of the Philistines became the pattern of Israel.


DAVID’S HALFHEARTED ATTEMPT: PASSION WITHOUT CONSECRATION

When David finally rose to the throne, he desired to restore the Ark to its rightful place. His heart was sincere. His passion was real. His intentions were noble. But sincerity is not obedience, and passion is not consecration.

David placed the Ark on a cart—the very method the Philistines had used—and began the journey with music, celebration, and enthusiasm. But enthusiasm cannot sanctify disobedience.

When the oxen stumbled and Uzzah reached out to steady the Ark, he touched what God had declared untouchable. The command had been clear: “They shall not touch any holy thing, lest they die.” (Numbers 4:15, KJV). Uzzah’s reflex was natural, but it was forbidden. His intentions were good, but they were irrelevant. The holy does not bend to human logic.

David was devastated. But the failure was not in God’s severity; it was in Israel’s neglect. The Ark was never meant to ride on a cart. It was meant to rest on consecrated shoulders.


THE NEGLECTED WORD: WHEN KNOWLEDGE IS LOST THROUGH DISUSE

David later confessed the truth: “The Lord our God made a breach upon us, for that we sought him not after the due order.” (1 Chronicles 15:13, KJV). The due order had been written for generations, but no one had practiced it.

The priests had the title but not the consecration. They had the lineage but not the sanctification. They had the garments but not the obedience. The Word had been neglected, and when the Word is neglected, the holy becomes mishandled.

This is the cost of spiritual drift. When the presence is outside the camp, the people stop meeting with God. When they stop meeting with God, they stop hearing His voice. When they stop hearing His voice, they stop obeying His commands. And when they stop obeying His commands, they begin to do what is right in their own eyes.


THE UNCONSECRATED PRIESTHOOD: TITLES WITHOUT SANCTIFICATION

Before the glory of the Lord ever filled the Tabernacle or the Temple, there had to be a consecrated priesthood. God does not pour His presence into unsanctified vessels. He does not rest His glory on common shoulders. He does not entrust holy things to unconsecrated hands.

The priests had to wash, to anoint, to sanctify themselves, to be set apart for the work of the Lord. This cost more than education. It cost more than training. It cost more than a seminary degree. It cost their lives on the altar.

The modern church has forgotten this. We have ministers trained by institutions patterned after the world, credentialed by committees, affirmed by men, but not set apart by God. We have leaders who can preach but cannot carry the presence, who can teach but cannot tremble, who can administrate but cannot intercede.

And congregations suffer for it.


THE DYING CONGREGATION: WHEN THE COMMON TOUCHES THE HOLY

Uzzah was not wicked. He was not rebellious. He was not immoral. He was simply common. And the common cannot carry the holy.

This is why so many congregations today are spiritually numb, spiritually dry, spiritually stagnant. They are being led by people who have never been set apart, who have never sanctified themselves, who have never presented themselves as living sacrifices.

Paul writes, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.” (Romans 12:1, KJV).

Worship is not a mood. It is not a playlist. It is not a warm‑up act. It is a presentation. It is the offering of the self. It is the posture of a priesthood.

Peter echoes this when he writes, “Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 2:5, KJV).

Acceptable worship has a posture. It has a cost. It has a consecration.


THE CASUAL WORSHIPER: EXPECTING GOD TO HONOR OUR PRESENCE WHILE WE DO NOT HONOR HIS

We treat worship casually because we have forgotten that worship is an offering. We walk into the sanctuary unprepared, unrepentant, unpresented, and then expect God to honor our presence while we do not honor His.

We come to church with no intention of meeting with the Lord, yet we expect the Lord to meet with us simply because we showed up. We leave the same way we came because we never placed anything on the altar. And if nothing is placed on the altar, nothing can be consumed by fire.

Hebrews declares, “Let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear.” (Hebrews 12:28, KJV).

Reverence is not optional. Awe is not outdated. Holiness is not negotiable. The presence of God is not managed; it is honored.


A CALL TO REPENTANCE: WHEN THE HOUSE OF GOD RETURNS TO THE LORD

If judgment begins anywhere, it begins with us. Peter writes, “For the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God.” (1 Peter 4:17, KJV).

We have treated worship as routine rather than meeting, approached the sanctuary casually, and expected God to honor our presence while offering Him none of the reverence, surrender, or obedience He requires.

But the Lord has not left us without a remedy. He has given us a path—ancient, tested, and sure—a path that leads from distance to nearness, from judgment to mercy, from drought to rain, from absence to glory. It is the path of repentance.

The Lord spoke it plainly to Solomon after the dedication of the Temple: “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14, KJV).

For those longing to see the glory return, the roadmap already exists. My devotional From Ichabod to Glory traces this very journey—from the departure of God’s presence to its restoration.


A PRAYER FOR MERCY, CONSECRATION, AND THE RETURN OF HIS PRESENCE

Lord, we come before You not as spectators but as a people in need of cleansing. We humble ourselves beneath Your mighty hand. We confess that we have treated Your presence lightly, approached Your sanctuary casually, and honored You with our lips while our hearts remained far from You.

Forgive us, O Lord.

Restore to us the fear of the Lord. Restore to us the weight of Your Word. Restore to us the reverence that once marked Your people. Cleanse our hands. Purify our hearts. Sanctify our motives. Set apart our lives for Your glory.

We seek Your face, not Your benefits. We seek Your presence, not Your platforms. We seek Your glory, not our comfort.

Hear us from heaven. Forgive our sin. Heal Your church. Let Your presence return to the midst of Your people.

Amen.

Hollow Rabbit Religion

The Hollow Rabbit Problem

Easter is the second most important candy‑eating occasion of the year for Americans, who consumed 7 billion pounds of candy in 2001, according to the National Confectioner’s Association.

  • In 2000, Americans spent nearly $1.9 billion on Easter candy, while Halloween sales were nearly $2 billion; Christmas, an estimated $1.4 billion; and Valentine’s Day, just over $1 billion.
  • Ninety million chocolate Easter bunnies are produced each year.
  • Chocolate bunnies should be eaten ears first, according to 76% of Americans. Five percent said bunnies should be eaten feet first, while 4% favored eating the tail first.
  • Adults prefer milk chocolate (65%) to dark chocolate (27%).

They are fanciful, often gold‑wrapped, usually elegantly packaged, full‑color presentations. From all appearances, those chocolate creatures are a delightful treat to eat. On the surface these beauties are elegant and proud. Inside, however, they are an empty hollow shell.

I do not know about you, but I prefer solid chocolate rabbits over the hollow ones. I much prefer to bite into a solid milk chocolate bunny. I have been fooled in the past into purchasing what looked like a solid chocolate rabbit only to get home and find out it was not. One bite is all it took to know I had been deceived. Although it had the appearance of being solid, it did not pass the bite test. Of course, I could have employed the pinch test at the store, but that would have only left a broken bunny on the shelf where once stood a proud whole rabbit.

After Easter, mark‑downs can be found on the broken chocolate rabbits even before the holiday buying season ends. The chocolate still tastes as good as it did when it was in the form of a full standing rabbit, but since it now resembles a pile of chocolate flakes, it lost some of its value. Although the chocolate did not lose any flavor, it was no longer pretty to look at.

Hollow rabbits outsell solid rabbits primarily because of the cost. You can get a gigantic 12‑inch rabbit for about half the price of a much smaller solid one. Children love the fact that they have this huge chocolate rabbit to eat, when in reality the amount of actual chocolate in that 12‑inch rabbit is less than half of the smaller sized version.

Outwardly these proud rabbits stand tall, but apply just a little amount of pressure and they will crumble. There is no real substance to them. They are of little value when faced with just the slightest bit of pressure. By contrast, their solid shelf‑mates can withstand tremendous pressure. Have you ever tried biting the head off a solid rabbit?

Solid or hollow — which do you prefer?


Solid or Hollow Worship

Our church worship could be looked at from the viewpoint of solid or hollow. Are we worshipping with our whole hearts, souls, minds, spirits, and strength, or is it more of an outward show to win favorable ratings from onlookers?

“In the fifth year of King Rehoboam, Shishak king of Egypt attacked Jerusalem. He carried off the treasures of the temple of the Lord and the treasures of the royal palace. He took everything, including the gold shields Solomon had made. So King Rehoboam made bronze shields to replace them and assigned these to the commanders of the guard on duty at the entrance to the royal palace. Whenever the king went to the Lord’s temple, the guards bore the shields, and afterward they returned them to the guardroom.” (2 Chronicles 12:9–11)

The gold was gone. It was replaced with bronze. Although it had an appearance of gold, it wasn’t. Bronze is far cheaper to produce than gold and thus less valuable. Although stripped of all the gold, the king made a show of worship anyway. If anyone came to steal these bronze shields, would they get anything of value when compared to the golden shields that had been there? Are we taking away anything of value from our worship services — any golden nuggets?

“Be careful not to let anyone rob you of this faith through a shallow and misleading philosophy. Such a person follows human traditions and the world’s way of doing things rather than following Christ.” (Colossians 2:8, GW)

All across our land many church houses are filled with bronze where once stood gold. What once was solid biblical preaching has been replaced with hollow messages of self‑improvement. These messengers appear to preach solid biblical counsel, yet their teachings contain no substance. Unable to offer the solid meat of God’s Word, they are left with only hollow arguments to the world’s ills. These solid‑looking brass shields, though golden in appearance, lack the value of pure gold.

It may be milk and it may be chocolate, but is it solid? What is your worship made of? Will it stand up under pressure? What is behind that golden appearance? Is it solid or simply hollow? Can you worship when times are rough? Has the enemy come in and taken all the value out of your salvation experience and left you with just a semblance of true worship?

“But those who are waiting for the Lord will have new strength; they will get wings like eagles: running, they will not be tired, and walking, they will have no weariness.” (Isaiah 40:31, BBE)