Title: From Ichabod to Glory – The Devotional Is Finally Here
For almost a year, From Ichabod to Glory has been sitting quietly on the launch pad.
I wrote this devotional for believers who feel like the glory has lifted—who are tired, discouraged, or just going through the motions—and who long to experience God’s presence in a fresh way again.
This is a 14‑day journey from emptiness to encounter, from “Ichabod” (the glory has departed) to Glory.
Each day gives you:
a Scripture passage
a short teaching
a heart‑level reflection
and a simple prayer
If you’ve been saying, “I know God is real, but I don’t feel Him like I used to,” this devotional was written with you in mind.
There is perhaps no quicker way to put someone on the defensive today than to use the word bigot. Christians have heard the accusation hurled at them from outside the Church, often for holding convictions the surrounding culture rejects. Before dismissing the word as another external attack, however, we should allow the Word of God to turn the examination inward.
Religious bigotry is not simply disagreement. Christians can disagree strongly about doctrine while continuing to love one another. The trouble begins when theological difference becomes spiritual superiority—when they believe differently from us becomes they are not one of us, and when that distinction becomes justification for treating fellow believers as spiritually lesser, refusing fellowship with them, or dismissing what Christ may be doing among them.
The disciples themselves fell into this trap. John told Jesus about a man ministering in His name and explained why they had tried to stop him:
“Teacher, we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.” — Mark 9:38
The man was not denying Jesus. The objection was simply that he was not identified with their group. That little word us can become a very large wall.
Who Is the Standard?
Christians have accumulated many names over the centuries: Catholic, Protestant, Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, Pentecostal, Reformed, Wesleyan, Adventist, and countless others. Those labels may tell us something about doctrine, history, or practice, but none of those names saves.
“Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.” — Acts 4:12
That name is Jesus Christ. Calvin cannot make that claim. Wesley cannot make it. Luther cannot make it. Paul, Apollos, and Cephas could not make it, and neither can I. At our very best, we are signposts pointing toward the One who can.
“He must increase, but I must decrease.” — John 3:30
Every Christian teacher eventually has to decrease. Every theological system must remain subordinate to Christ. Every denomination must resist the temptation to become the destination rather than a place from which people are pointed toward Him. Paul confronted this problem when believers began defining themselves by favored teachers: I am of Paul. I am of Apollos. I am of Cephas. His response was devastatingly simple: “Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you?” The question still stands. Was Calvin crucified for us? Was Wesley? Was Luther? Then why would we make disciples primarily identified by their names when Jesus commanded us to make disciples of Christ?
None Righteous, No, Not One
Religious superiority becomes especially difficult to defend when we remember what Scripture says about all of us:
“There is none righteous, no, not one.” — Romans 3:10
Degrees do not change that. Seminaries do not change it. Ordination certificates do not change it. Centuries of theological tradition do not change it. Paul places Jew and Gentile alike under sin and then points both toward righteousness through Jesus Christ. He leaves no room for boasting.
This does not mean truth is unknowable or doctrine is irrelevant. Scripture gives us truth precisely so that we can walk in it. But there is an enormous difference between saying, “The Word says this,” and saying, “Our denomination understands everything correctly; therefore everyone else should be measured against us.”We are not the standard. Christ is.
Put Down the Stones
Consider the woman caught in adultery. Religious men dragged her before Jesus and presented her sin for judgment. Jesus did not redefine adultery as righteousness, but He turned the examination back upon those holding the stones.
There is a powerful application here for the divided Church. Suppose the woman standing in the middle represents the church across the street. We know everything we believe they have gotten wrong. Their worship is wrong. Their baptism is wrong. Their understanding of spiritual gifts is wrong. Their theology is deficient. Their tradition has added something or removed something. Perhaps some of our criticism is even correct.
Very well. Let the denomination without error cast the first stone. Which Christian tradition has understood every verse perfectly? Which group has never allowed pride, personality, politics, ambition, or human tradition to contaminate its witness? Which congregation looks completely like Jesus? The stones suddenly become rather heavy.
There is one Lawgiver and Judge. Our responsibility is not to pretend error does not exist, but neither is it to enthrone ourselves as the righteous standard by which everybody else is condemned.
If They Are Wrong, Restore Them
Scripture does not leave us without a response when a brother is genuinely wrong:
“Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted.” — Galatians 6:1
That is considerably different from throwing theological stones across the street. If we truly possess greater light, then perhaps that light should help somebody else see Christ more clearly. If we genuinely believe our brother has wandered, the spiritual response is restoration in meekness, not superiority. We should want him walking rightly with the Lord, not merely walking correctly with us. Religious bigotry makes another person’s error evidence of our superiority. Christlike love makes his restoration our concern.
What If the Houses Have Steeples?
The early believers shared life together, publicly and from house to house. Acts describes them breaking bread together with gladness and sincerity of heart. So let me borrow that picture and bring it forward: what if some of the houses have steeples?
What if one house says Methodist on its sign and another says Presbyterian? What if another says Baptist, Catholic, or Pentecostal? If brothers and sisters in Christ are gathering inside, why should the sign outside prevent us from loving, encouraging, praying with, or serving the people inside?
We have become very good at inviting everybody into our own house: come to our church, hear our preacher, attend our class, become one of us. Jesus gave a much greater invitation:
“Come unto me…” — Matthew 11:28
A congregation can invite people into fellowship, but we dare not confuse “Come to us” with “Come unto Me.”The destination is not the building, the membership roll, the denomination, or the pew. The destination is Christ.
The Church Across the Street Is My Neighbor
Jesus told us to love God and to love our neighbor as ourselves. He then gave His disciples an identifying mark the world would recognize:
“By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” — John 13:35
Perhaps we need to ask a painfully simple question: Does the church across the street qualify as my neighbor? When was the last time we prayed for the pastor down the block by name? Two congregations can stand within sight of each other. Both claim Jesus Christ. Both open the Bible. Both worship God. Both claim to be serving the Lord, yet they rarely pray together, fellowship together, encourage one another, or cross the street to serve one another. Each lives within its own religious enclave while professing membership in one Body. Something is wrong with that picture.
Love does not require doctrinal compromise. It does not call error truth. But love refuses to turn disagreement into contempt. Love crosses the street, restores, encourages, and recognizes that the brother on the other side of the wall belongs to Christ before he belongs to a denomination.
Loosening the Stones
Religious bigotry begins when theological difference becomes religious prejudice—when they believe differently becomes they are not one of us, and when not being one of us becomes grounds for treating people Christ loves as lesser. The problem is not conviction. The problem is making ourselves the standard.
The Catholic is not the standard. The Protestant is not the standard. The Calvinist is not the standard. The Wesleyan is not the standard. The Pentecostal is not the standard. Neither are you nor I. Christ is the standard.
Perhaps we should spend less time comparing the church across the street with ourselves and more time comparing ourselves with Jesus. That comparison has a remarkable way of loosening the stones from our hands. When our doctrine divides the Body Christ died to make one, something is wrong—and Jesus is not the One who is wrong.
So let Christ increase and let us decrease. Open the Word, preach the Word, love the brethren, restore the fallen, and point people toward Jesus Christ. If the Word ministers to them, thank God and keep pointing them toward Him. There is only one saving Name, one Head of the Body, and one rightful destination: Jesus Christ.
We were never called to be museum curators of tradition, nor tourists waiting for heaven’s shuttle. The gospel is not a spiritual escape hatch. It is a kingdom invasion plan. Jesus did not say, “Hide in cathedrals until I come back.” He said:
“You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.” Matthew 5:13–14
But today, many churches have traded their watchtowers for stage lights. We have replaced prophetic fire with polished programming, and bold witness with brand management. The result is a generation that knows how to sing worship songs but does not know how to stand against wickedness.
Salt That Has Lost Its Saltiness
Salt preserves. Salt purifies. Salt stings when it touches infection. But Jesus warned:
“If the salt loses its saltiness… it is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.” Matthew 5:13
Salt only affects something because it is different from what surrounds it. Light only affects darkness because it possesses something darkness does not. Once the Church begins taking its identity, values, methods, definitions of truth, and measures of success from the surrounding culture, it gradually loses the very distinction that enables it to influence that culture.
And that makes Jesus’ warning about salt especially sobering. The danger is not merely persecution from the world. There is another danger: assimilation into the world.
That is not poetic fluff. That is judgment. A church that refuses to confront sin, call out heresy, and stand for truth has lost its preserving influence on the culture it is trying to impress.
We have become therapeutic chaplains to a dying world instead of spiritual surgeons.
We have confused niceness with holiness, and tolerance with truth.
We have preached “God is love” while ignoring that the God who loves is also holy, jealous, and just.
Light That Refuses to Shine
Light exposes. Light guides. Light disrupts darkness. But too many believers are hiding their lamps under the pews, afraid to offend, afraid to be labeled “intolerant,” and afraid to lose followers.
“Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16
This is not about performative virtue. It is about visible righteousness. It is about living lives so saturated with truth, purity, and courage that the world cannot help but take notice, forcing the question of what it will do with the Christ it sees reflected in us.
The Cathedral Is Not the Mission
Fancy buildings do not save souls. Fog machines do not cast out demons. A well-crafted sermon is no substitute for Spirit-led conviction. The early church had no cathedrals, no budgets, and no branding, but it had power, boldness, and truth.
Peter did not whisper at Pentecost. He proclaimed Christ boldly.
Paul did not tiptoe around idolatry. He exposed it and pointed people to the living God.
Stephen did not compromise his witness. He spoke the truth even when it cost him his life.
We do not need more comfortable Christians. We need courageous ones. We do not need more safe spaces. We need sacred spaces where repentance is real and holiness is non-negotiable.
The Gospel Ship Needs Righting
The church is not a cruise liner. It is a kingdom vessel on assignment. It is time to:
Raise the prophetic sails again.
Man the watchtower with discernment.
Sound the alarm when compromise creeps in.
Refuse to dock in the harbor of cultural appeasement.
We are not here to be liked. We are here to be light. We are not here to blend in. We are here to stand out. We are not here to entertain. We are here to equip, exhort, and evangelize.
The question is not whether the darkness is getting darker. The question is whether the light is still shining and whether the salt still has its savor.
Seeing farther requires humility enough to admit when our present view is incomplete.
There is something dangerous about believing that what we can see is all there is to see. Scripture actually describes a condition of spiritual shortsightedness:
“But he that lacketh these things is blind, and cannot see afar off…” 2 Peter 1:9 KJV
Notice the language: “cannot see afar off.” That is the problem of the shortsighted. They can see something, but they cannot see far enough. The greater danger comes when those who cannot see afar off become convinced that they can.
“We See”
Jesus addressed this very problem after healing the man born blind. Some of the Pharisees asked whether they were blind also. Jesus answered:
“If ye were blind, ye should have no sin: but now ye say, We see; therefore your sin remaineth.”John 9:41 KJV
Those two words should give every believer pause: “We see.” There is no shame in acknowledging that there are things we do not understand. The danger lies in becoming so convinced of our own understanding that we are no longer willing to look again. Paul described another form of the same human conceit:
“Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools.”Romans 1:22 KJV
We do not know what we do not know. The problem begins when we refuse to acknowledge that fact and assume that whatever lies beyond our present understanding cannot possibly be true.
Zacchaeus Knew He Couldn’t See
Here is where Zacchaeus becomes such a beautiful picture. He wanted to see Jesus, but he was short and the crowd obstructed his view. Scripture says:
“And he ran before, and climbed up into a sycomore tree to see him: for he was to pass that way.”Luke 19:4 KJV
Zacchaeus had limited vision, but he knew it. So he changed his position. He climbed higher. His limitation did not keep him from seeing Jesus because he acknowledged it. The symbolism is striking. Zacchaeus effectively said, “I cannot see,” and climbed higher. The Pharisees said, “We see,” and remained blind. The man who recognized the limitation of his sight changed his vantage point and saw Jesus, while those confident in their spiritual sight could have Jesus standing directly before them and still fail to recognize what God was doing.
There is a caution here for Churchianity. We may say that our scholars have studied it, our denominations have settled it, our traditions have defined it, and therefore we see. Study matters. Sound doctrine matters. But study should make us more humble before God, not less teachable by God.
Knowledge Is Not Understanding
“Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom: and with all thy getting get understanding.”Proverbs 4:7 KJV
Knowledge alone is not enough. A person can know where an automobile was manufactured, how its engine was designed, and what every major component does, yet when the radiator fails he may not know how to replace it. An experienced mechanic may possess fewer academic credentials while knowing exactly what to do when the hood goes up. Knowledge knows something. Understanding comprehends it. Wisdom knows what to do with it.
“If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally…”James 1:5 KJV
Not pretend. Not presume. Ask. That requires humility. I have learned this repeatedly in my own walk with the Lord: every time I think I have all the answers, God changes the questions. Just when I think I understand something, He seems to ask, “Yes, but have you looked at it this way?” When I change my vantage point, sometimes the picture changes with it.
The Watchman Must Keep Looking
That brings us to the watchman. God told Ezekiel:
“O son of man, I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me.” Ezekiel 33:7 KJV
The watchman was not commissioned to manufacture something frightening. He watched, he heard from God, and then he spoke. His elevation gave him perspective. He could see approaching danger before those at street level could see it. But what happens when the watchman stops looking because he thinks he has already seen everything there is to see? He may still stand upon the wall and carry the trumpet, but he has ceased to function as a watchman.
Come Up Higher
John heard an extraordinary invitation in Revelation:
“Come up hither, and I will shew thee things which must be hereafter.” Revelation 4:1 KJV
In its immediate context, this is John’s invitation into the heavenly vision. Yet the imagery gives us a fitting spiritual caution: there are things we cannot see from ground level. Zacchaeus climbed higher because he could not see Jesus from where he stood. The watchman stood higher because he needed to see farther than those within the city. And Jesus promised His disciples the Spirit of truth:
“Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth…”John 16:13 KJV
Guidance assumes that we are still traveling. We still have somewhere to go, something to learn, and things we cannot presently see. Perhaps one of the healthiest prayers God’s people can pray is simply, “Father, what am I not seeing from where I am standing?”
A Report From the Wall
This Watchman’s Report is not a prediction about tomorrow. It is a caution about today. Do not mistake the limits of your vision for the limits of God’s reality. Do not become so confident in what you know that you become incapable of learning what you do not know. Do not assume that because everyone around you sees something the same way, everyone must therefore be seeing clearly. Remember Zacchaeus. Sometimes the crowd itself can obstruct our view.
If we cannot see clearly, let us acknowledge it. If we lack wisdom, let us ask for it. If our view is obstructed, let us change our position. If God asks, “Have you looked at it this way?” let us remain humble enough to look again. Above all, let us learn something from a short man who wanted desperately to see Jesus. He knew he could not see from where he stood, so he climbed higher, and there he saw Jesus.
The greatest danger may not be that we cannot see. It may be that we cannot see, but have convinced ourselves that we can.
The Historic Shift from Divine Order to Human Tradition
Twice a year, like clockwork, millions of people dutifully reach for their clocks to push the hands forward or fall back. We yield to human mandates without question, adjusting our sleeping schedules, daily routines, and working hours simply because an earthly authority declared it time to do so. In America, we toggle back and forth between Standard Time and Daylight Saving Time—labeling it an “adjustment” for our own convenience.
Yet, the irony of Daylight Saving Time is striking: changing our clocks does not alter the actions or the arc of the solar system by a single second. The sun is not governed by digital displays, Timex watches, or human legislation. It is commanded by the Creator alone. The sun will rise when it rises, set when it sets, and deliver the exact measure of daylight ordained from the beginning of creation. Man’s attempt to manipulate time is nothing more than an illusion—a self-delusion that we can rewrite the heavens simply because we re-labeled the dial.
Standard time exists whether we acknowledge it or not. In the exact same way, God’s Standard Time remains fixed, absolute, and unyielding.
A far more catastrophic illusion has gone largely unnoticed within the walls of modern religion. Centuries ago, human institutions did not merely adjust an hour on an earthly clock—they presumed to dismantle the Creator’s divine timepiece altogether. They took God’s Standard Time, set according to His appointed times, and substituted it with human customs, pagan syncretism, and men’s traditions.
The Divine Blueprint: God’s Prophetic Master Clock
We have abandoned God’s Standard Time for man’s adjusted time, and in doing so, we have supplanted divine commands with human tradition.
Scripture introduces the sacred calendar not as a set of cultural rituals for a single demographic, but as the supreme framework of redemption. In the text of Leviticus 23:2, God establishes these observances with absolute clarity:
“Speak to the Israelites and say to them: ‘These are my appointed feasts, the appointed feasts of the Lord, which you are to proclaim as sacred assemblies.’”— Leviticus 23:2
The biblical text does not call them “the feasts of the Jews”; it calls them Mo’edim—the appointed times of the Creator. These seven feasts form a precise, two-part prophetic clock centered entirely on the life, death, resurrection, and return of Jesus Christ:
• The Spring Feasts (The First Coming): Passover (Pesach), Unleavened Bread (Chag HaMatzot), Firstfruits (Bikkurim), and the Feast of Weeks (Shavuot / Pentecost). These were fulfilled to the exact hour and day through Christ’s sacrifice, burial, resurrection, and the sending of the Holy Spirit.
• The Fall Feasts (The Second Coming): The Feast of Trumpets (Yom Teruah), the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur), and the Feast of Tabernacles (Sukkot). These serve as ongoing prophetic rehearsals pointing directly to the awakening blast, final judgment, and the return of the King to dwell with humanity.
When the church abandoned these appointed times, it did not merely drop ancient historical observances. It disconnected itself from the divine prophetic clock that maps out the Messiah’s entire work.
The Historic Shift: How Human Tradition Replaced Divine Law
This shift from divine time to human tradition was neither accidental nor passive. History records a deliberate campaign by early political and religious councils to sever the Gentile church from its biblical roots and Jewish identity—effectively declaring to the Almighty, “Thanks Lord, but we’ll take it from here.”
Timeline / Council
Historical & Theological Impact
325 AD Council of Nicaea
Emperor Constantine and church leaders officially severed the resurrection celebration from the biblical lunar date of Passover (14 Nisan). In imperial decrees, Constantine explicitly cited anti-Judaic motivations to justify departing from the biblical calendar, establishing an independent calculation for what became Easter Sunday.
364 AD Council of Laodicea
Canon 29 of the Council of Laodicea officially prohibited resting on the seventh-day Sabbath, mandating work on the Sabbath and enforcing rest on Sunday. The council declared those who continued to honor the seventh-day Sabbath to be operating outside church authority.
4th–6th Century Calendar Syncretism
To replace the suppressed biblical feasts (Mo’edim), religious authorities adapted existing cultural and midwinter solstice celebrations—such as Saturnalia—into Christmas, while spring seasonal rites were reformatted into liturgical holy days, creating a church calendar rooted in human decree rather than divine command.
This historic pivot created a profound theological split. By creating a separate “church calendar” filled with traditions like Lent, Good Friday, Easter, and Christmas while ignoring the commanded Mo’edim, religious institutions established a completely separate system of worship.
The High Price of Good Intentions: Strange Fire & Ox Carts
Modern believers often brush off these calendar shifts with a comforting defense: “As long as my heart is right and I’m sincere, God accepts my worship.” But scripture strips away that delusion with terrifying clarity. Good intentions have never sanctified bad doctrine or unauthorized worship.
Look at the biblical record:
• Nadab and Abihu (Leviticus 10:1–2): Aaron’s sons were ordained priests offering incense to the Lord. Their intent was to worship Him. Yet they brought “strange fire”—unauthorized fire that God had not explicitly commanded. Fire flared out from the presence of the Lord and consumed them instantly. Sincerity did not spare them from the consequence of substituting God’s command with their own method.
• David, Uzzah, and the Ox Cart (2 Samuel 6:1–7): King David’s heart was pure in wanting to bring the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem. But instead of carrying it on the shoulders of the Levites as God instructed (Numbers 7:9), they copied a pagan practice from the Philistines (1 Samuel 6:7) and placed the Ark on a brand-new ox cart. When the oxen stumbled and the cart rocked, Uzzah reached out with a protective hand to steady the Ark—and God struck him dead on the spot.
Uzzah’s motive was noble, but his method was pagan. David learned a brutal lesson: you cannot use pagan methods to honor a Holy God.
When the modern church adopts pagan solstice festivals, spring fertility traditions, and man-made holy days, labeling them “sacred pageantry” to celebrate Christ, we are placing the holy things of God on a Philistine ox cart. We are offering strange fire on the altar and convincing ourselves that God must accept it because “our hearts are good.”
The Shift in Authority: A Counterfeit Lordship
When human institutions detached the faith from its scriptural roots and discarded the Mo’edim, the consequence was far greater than a change in holy days. It represented a fundamental shift in ultimate spiritual authority.
Scripture is explicit: the One who establishes the times, the covenants, and the appointed assemblies is God alone. In Mark 2:28, Jesus declared His supreme authority over divine time:
“So the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath.”— Mark 2:28
To be the Lord of the Sabbath and the Master of the Mo’edim is a title reserved exclusively for the Creator. Therefore, when earthly leaders and church councils presumed to alter God’s calendar, replace His commands with human decrees, and sever believers from the cultivated olive tree, they did not simply “update” tradition—they asserted a competing authority.
By setting aside the commandments of Christ to institute man-made holy days, religious leadership positioned human tradition as the ultimate lawgiver. In doing so, modern practice inadvertently submits to a counterfeit lordship: choosing the arrogance of human councils over the absolute Lordship of Jesus Christ.
One Olive Tree: The Grafted Reality
The primary justification for discarding God’s calendar within modern theology is the belief that the church operates under a completely separate identity from Israel, dismissing the feasts as “old dispensation rituals.” Yet scripture dismantles this wall of division. Writing to Gentile believers in Romans 11:17–18, the Apostle Paul clarifies our true identity:
“If some of the branches have been broken off, and you, though a wild olive shoot, have been grafted in among the others and now share in the nourishing sap from the olive root, do not consider yourself to be superior to those other branches.”— Romans 11:17–18
Gentile believers were not given a separate tree, a separate covenant, or a separate calendar. We were grafted into the single, cultivated olive tree of Israel. We share in the covenant promises, the scriptural roots, and the divine commands given to God’s people. To reject the root is to cut ourselves off from the life of the tree.
A Call to Reset the Clock
The indictment against replacing divine instruction with human custom is not a matter of personal preference; it is a clear biblical warning. In Mark 7:8–9, Jesus directly confronted the religious leaders of His era with words that echo loudly today:
“You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to human traditions… You have a fine way of setting aside the commands of God in order to observe your own traditions!”— Mark 7:8–9
Just as no human law can alter the rising of the sun, no religious decree can change the Master’s eternal calendar. Man’s church calendar will fade, but God’s Standard Time stands forever. Look at how the Prophet Isaiah describes the worship of the redeemed in the eternal Kingdom to come:
“‘For as the new heavens and the new earth which I will make shall remain before Me,’ says the Lord, ‘so shall your descendants and your name remain. And it shall come to pass that from one New Moon to another, and from one Sabbath to another, all flesh shall come to worship before Me,’ says the Lord.”— Isaiah 66:22–23
If God’s appointed rhythms are the standard for eternity in the New Heavens and New Earth, why have we abandoned them today for human substitutes?
We stand at a critical crossroads. We can continue to run on man’s adjusted time, holding human traditions as sacrosanct while ignoring the commandments of the Most High. Or we can fall back to the truth, reject syncretized customs, and return to God’s Standard Time—the sacred, prophetic rhythms established by the Creator.
The Creator set the clock; man merely re-labeled the dial. It is time to reject man’s adjusted time and return to God’s Standard Time.
There is a famous line from the movie The Sixth Sense that almost everyone recognizes: “I see dead people.” Well, apparently Peter did too. Long before Hollywood turned those words into one of cinema’s most memorable lines, Peter, James, and John climbed a mountain with Jesus and witnessed something astonishing. Jesus was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, His clothing became white as light, and suddenly two men appeared with Him: Moses and Elijah. Peter responded by offering to build three shelters, one for Jesus, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. Then, while Peter was still speaking, the Father interrupted him from heaven and directed the disciples toward His Son. When the disciples finally lifted their eyes again, Moses and Elijah were gone. They saw no one except Jesus.
Three Tabernacles
Peter was understandably overwhelmed by what he saw. We should be careful not to accuse Peter of intentionally developing a doctrine that placed Moses and Elijah on exactly the same level as Jesus. Nevertheless, the picture is striking. Peter sees three glorious figures and responds by proposing three shelters. Then heaven interrupts him.
“This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him.” Matthew 17:5
The Father does not say, “Hear them.” He says, “Hear Him.” The disciples fall on their faces in fear. Jesus approaches and touches them. When they finally lift their eyes, they see no one except Jesus. There is the picture, the message, and the heart of the matter: Jesus only.
Moses Had His Place
None of this dishonors Moses. God chose Moses for an extraordinary purpose. Through Moses came the Law and the deliverance of Israel from Egypt. But Moses was not the Messiah, and Moses was never supposed to become the destination. Jesus Himself said that Moses wrote concerning Him. If we truly honor Moses, we follow the direction in which Moses was pointing. We do not honor the signpost by stopping at the signpost. We honor it by going where it directs us.
Elijah Had His Place
The same principle applies to Elijah. Elijah stood boldly against apostasy and witnessed extraordinary demonstrations of God’s power, but Elijah was not the destination either. Christians have long recognized in Moses and Elijah a fitting picture of the Law and the Prophets standing in the presence of the One toward whom the biblical story was moving. They do not compete with Christ; they testify to Him. The Law has its place and the prophets have their place, but Christ occupies the place belonging to Christ alone. Then the representatives disappear from view, and the One to whom they pointed remains: Jesus only.
Why Are You Consulting Me?
There is another strange biblical encounter with a departed servant of God that belongs in this discussion. Samuel had died. The Philistine army had gathered against Israel, and Saul was terrified. Saul inquired of the LORD, but the LORD did not answer him through dreams, Urim, or prophets. Saul then sought a medium and specifically requested Samuel.
When Samuel appears, Saul explains exactly what he wants. God is no longer answering him, so Saul has called Samuel to tell him what to do. Samuel responds with a haunting question: “Why do you consult me?” Saul’s fundamental problem was not that Samuel was unavailable or that Saul lacked information. His problem was broken obedience before God. Yet instead of confronting the real issue, Saul searched for another avenue to obtain spiritual direction. When our relationship with God becomes strained, when obedience becomes costly, when God seems silent, or when He has already spoken and we do not like what He has said, we are remarkably capable of looking for another route.
Saul’s consultation with a medium should not be carelessly equated with later Christian practices of requesting the intercession of departed saints. They are not identical practices. Nevertheless, Saul’s story establishes a principle worth considering: a servant of God is never a substitute for God, and seeking the servant does not repair a relationship with the Master.
Then Why Do I Need Another Mediator?
Roman Catholic teaching deserves to be represented accurately. Catholicism does not officially teach that saints are additional gods competing with Jesus. It understands the saints within the communion of the Church and teaches that saints in heaven may intercede for believers. The strongest biblical objection is therefore not simply to accuse Catholics of worshiping dead people. The more difficult question is this: Why do I need another intermediary?
“For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.” 1 Timothy 2:5
That verse does not belittle faithful believers who have gone before us. It puts them in their proper place while putting Christ in His. Moses is not my mediator. Elijah is not my mediator. Samuel is not my mediator. Peter is not my mediator. Paul is not my mediator. Mary is not my mediator. Jesus Christ is my mediator. Saints may testify concerning Christ, prophets may point toward Christ, and apostles may preach Christ, but none of them reconciled sinful humanity to God. That belongs to Jesus.
We Already Have Access
The wonder of the Gospel is not that Jesus brings us close enough to God that we can begin searching for somebody else to carry us the rest of the way. Jesus Himself is the way.
“For through him we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father.” Ephesians 2:18
Look carefully at that movement: through Him, by the Spirit, unto the Father. The believer does not have to stand outside God’s throne room searching for someone spiritually important enough to obtain an audience. Jesus Himself taught His disciples to pray, “Our Father.” Hebrews tells us to come boldly to the throne of grace. If Christ has already opened the door, why are we searching for another entrance?
Honor Is Not Mediation
There is nothing wrong with honoring faithful believers who came before us. Scripture remembers the faithfulness of God’s people across generations. Their faith encourages us, their failures warn us, and their lives can strengthen our own walk. But honoring someone is not the same thing as making that person part of our approach to God. I can thank God for Peter without praying to Peter. I can admire Paul’s faith without asking Paul to carry my prayer to Christ. I can recognize Mary’s extraordinary place in the history of redemption without requiring Mary to provide access to her Son. They have their places within God’s redemptive story, but they are not its center. Jesus is.
The Danger of Building Three Tabernacles
Perhaps Peter’s instinct on that mountain exposes something that exists within all of us. Human beings love building tabernacles. We build them around people, movements, denominations, theological systems, traditions, pastors, teachers, reformers, saints, and even particular eras of church history. Something God genuinely used can gradually become something we elevate until our attention subtly shifts from the One who used it. Then heaven speaks into our tabernacle-building: “This is my beloved Son… hear ye him.”
This is where Protestants need to stop congratulating themselves. We may never kneel before the image of a saint, yet we can elevate a favorite preacher or theologian until that person’s interpretation becomes practically unquestionable. We can do the same thing with catechisms, confessions, systematic theologies, denominational statements, and traditions. Those things are not necessarily wrong. Good theology is a gift. The problem begins when the servant replaces the Master, the signpost replaces the destination, or the thing that testifies about Christ becomes a substitute for coming to Christ Himself.
When We Start Looking for Another Way
The problem beneath all of this is ultimately a problem of the heart. Human beings have a recurring tendency to seek alternate spiritual routes when trust and obedience become difficult. Saul reached backward for Samuel. Peter wanted to preserve the moment by building three tabernacles. Religious people throughout history have repeatedly been tempted to build systems around those whom God used rather than continuing toward the God to whom those servants pointed. The forms change, but the temptation remains: give me something I can consult, systematize, or control rather than requiring me to trust the living God with all my heart.
“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.” Proverbs 3:5
The Saints Should Point Us to Jesus
A genuine servant of God should never want to become the destination. John the Baptist expressed the heart of true ministry perfectly: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” If Moses could stand before us today, where would Moses point us? Jesus said Moses wrote concerning Him. If Elijah stood before us, would Elijah direct attention toward himself or toward the God whose Word he proclaimed? The faithful servant continually points beyond himself: Don’t stop with me. Look to Him.
I See Dead People
So yes, the Bible shows us departed servants of God. Samuel appears in that strange and troubling episode at Endor. Moses and Elijah appear with Christ on the Mount of Transfiguration. But notice what Scripture does with those encounters. Saul goes looking for Samuel because he desperately wants spiritual direction, and Samuel asks why Saul is consulting him. Peter unexpectedly sees Moses and Elijah standing with Christ and wants to build three tabernacles, but heaven interrupts him: “This is my beloved Son… hear ye him.” Then the disciples lift their eyes. Moses is gone. Elijah is gone. Scripture leaves us with one of the simplest and most profound pictures imaginable: “They saw no man, save Jesus only.”
Perhaps that is the picture the Church needs again. We can remember those who came before us, honor their faithfulness, learn from their testimony, read their writings, and thank God for their obedience. But we do not need to build another tabernacle. We do not need another mediator. We do not need another way to the Father. The Law couldn’t get us there. The prophets couldn’t get us there. The saints can’t get us there. Our denominations can’t get us there. Our theological systems can’t get us there. Religion can’t get us there. But Jesus did.
He crossed the chasm, reconciled sinful humanity to God, opened the way into the Father’s presence, and invited us to come. So when every other figure fades from view, when every human name resumes its proper place, and when every substitute we have constructed falls to the ground, may we lift our eyes and discover again what Peter, James, and John discovered on that mountain: No man, save Jesus only.
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