Crossing the Jordan: A Call to Spiritual Maturity

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

Moses Is Dead – The Flooded Jordan Awaits the Priests

Every year, as Holy Week approaches, the church prepares to reenact the cross. It does this with the predictability of a television network airing The Christmas Story on repeat. In December we cradle Him as a baby. By spring we crucify Him. A week later we raise Him. And then, like a ritual wash-rinse-repeat cycle, we return Him to the cradle again the following winter. It is a liturgical loop. It mirrors the sacrificial system Moses established. This system was fulfilled in Christ once for all. And yet, here we are, seventeen centuries later. We are still circling the same mountain.

The Spirit’s ancient command still speaks with unnerving clarity:
“You have circled this mountain long enough; turn northward.” (Deuteronomy 2:3)

The modern church has become Israel in the wilderness. We live on manna and survive on routine. We rehearse the same spiritual calendar. However, we never press into the fullness of God. We watch the cross from afar as spectators. We behave as though the crucifixion were a seasonal drama. It is instead the doorway into a kingdom we are commanded to enter.

The Majority Report Still Governs the People of God

Before Israel ever wandered for forty years, Scripture records the moment that still governs the church today. Twelve spies entered the land. Ten returned with fear; two returned with faith.

The majority declared: “We are not able to go up against the people, for they are stronger than we.” (Numbers 13:31)
They insisted the land  and that “devours its inhabitants” and that “all the people… are men of great stature.”(Numbers 13:32)
Their final confession sealed their fate: “We were like grasshoppers in our own sight, and so we were in their sight.” (Numbers 13:33)

But Joshua and Caleb spoke a different word: “Let us go up at once and take possession, for we are well able to overcome it.” (Numbers 13:30)
And again: “If the LORD delights in us, then He will bring us into this land and give it to us.” (Numbers 14:8)

Yet the people believed the majority report. They always do. And because they did, the Lord said: “Just as you have spoken in My hearing, so I will do to you.” (Numbers 14:28)

Their own confession became their captivity.

The same dynamic governs the church today. The loudest voices are the fearful ones. The most influential voices are the cautious ones. The majority still shapes the culture of God’s people, and the faithful whisper of the Spirit is still ignored.

Manna Was Mercy-Not Maturity

Israel lived on manna for forty years, but manna was never meant to be a lifetime diet. It was mercy, not maturity. It kept them alive, but it never made them strong.

Scripture says: “He humbled you, allowed you to hunger, and fed you with manna… that He might make you know that man shall not live by bread alone.” (Deuteronomy 8:3)

Manna was a temporary provision for a temporary season-a wilderness food for a wilderness people. Yet the modern church has turned manna into a centuries-long tradition. We gather our weekly portion on Sunday. We feel satisfied for a moment. Then we return to wandering until the next week arrives.

The writer of Hebrews rebukes this very condition: “You need milk, not solid food… but solid food belongs to those who are mature.” (Hebrews 5:12-14)

The church has survived on milk for seventeen centuries. We have survived on manna for just as long. But survival is not maturity. Manna keeps you alive; it does not make you an overcomer. Milk nourishes infants; it does not train warriors.

Israel’s manna stopped the moment they crossed the Jordan: “Then the manna ceased… and they ate of the produce of the land.” (Joshua 5:12)

The wilderness diet ended the moment they stepped into promise.

But the modern church has never crossed over.
So the manna never stopped.
And the milk never gave way to meat.

Moses Is Dead-Yeshua Leads Us In

Moses could lead Israel to the border, but he could not take them in. Scripture is clear: “For the law was given through Moses, but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.” (John 1:17)
Moses was faithful, but he was a servant; Christ is the Son (Hebrews 3:5-6).

The Law could reveal sin, but not remove it.
It could show the land, but not give it.
It could circle, but not conquer.

This is why God declared: “Moses My servant is dead; now therefore arise, go over this Jordan.”  (Joshua 1:2)

The era of circling ended with Moses. The era of crossing began with Joshua-Yeshua, the very name of Jesus.

The Jordan Always Floods During Harvest

Scripture emphasizes the timing: “The Jordan overflows all its banks during the whole time of harvest.” (Joshua 3:15)

The river was at its most dangerous precisely when the harvest was ready.

Jesus said: “Lift up your eyes and look at the fields, for they are white already to harvest.” (John 4:35)

The harvest is ready now.
And yet the Jordan is full.
The obstacles are great.
The river is rising.
And the workers are few (Matthew 9:37).

Not because the harvest is small,
but because the fearful and unbelieving still hold back the people of God.

The Raging Jordan and the Responsibility of the Priesthood

When the priests stepped into the Jordan, they were not stepping into calm or manageable water. They faced a roaring and swollen torrent. It was an intimidating river in full flood. The noise was loud enough to drown out courage. Its violent nature could terrify the unprepared. That river is a prophetic picture of the cultural moment we now face. The noise of the age and the hostility of the world create a single roaring current. The confusion of the times adds to the tumult. The intimidation of the giants completes this overwhelming force meant to paralyze the people of God.

The giants on the other side use the flood as their voice. They amplify fear and magnify danger. They project strength they do not actually possess. But just as in Joshua’s day, the river will not part until the priests step in.

Ministers must be the first to challenge the raging waters of culture. They must be the first to confront the giants who use the roar of the river as their intimidation. They must be the first to step into the torrent. Not after it calms. Not after it recedes. Not after it becomes safe. They must do it while it is still raging. The giants know something. The church has forgotten this: they do not have the power nor the authority to resist Christ and His church. Yeshua has already declared, “I will build My church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18)

The gates of hell cannot stop the church. They cannot withstand the advance of the kingdom. They cannot resist the authority of Christ. The only thing that can stop the church is a priesthood that refuses to step into the water.

Revival does not wait on the world.
Revival does not wait on the culture.
Revival does not wait on the giants.
Revival waits on the priests.

Until the ministers step into the torrent, the people will remain on the banks.
Until the shepherds lead, the flock cannot follow.
Until the priesthood moves, the Jordan will not part.

The responsibility for crossing-and for revival-rests on the leaders who must step first.

A Call to Rise, Step In, and Take the Land

The church has circled long enough.
The Jordan is full because the harvest is ready.
The river is raging because the kingdom is near.
The obstacles are great because the inheritance is greater.

The fearful majority still holds back the people of God. However, the Spirit is calling for a Joshua generation. It calls for a Yeshua generation to rise, step in, and lead the way.

Moses is dead.

The wilderness is over.
The kingdom is before us.
Arise.
Step in.
Cross over.
Take the land.

Closing Prayer

Father, awaken Your people from slumber. Stir the hearts of Your saints to rise in faith. Inspire them to reject the majority report of fear. Encourage them to embrace the testimony of Joshua and Caleb. Give courage to Your priests to step into the flooded Jordan. Empower them to lead Your people into promise. Help them take hold of the inheritance purchased by Yeshua. Let the manna cease. Let the milk give way to meat. Let Your church cross over into maturity, authority, and kingdom fullness. Strengthen Your people to take the land You have given them. The fields are white and the harvest is ready. The King has gone before us. In the name of Yeshua, our High Priest and Captain of our salvation. Amen.

“White-Out: The Blizzard, The Erasure, and The Redemption”

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

March roared like a lion during the great blizzard of 1958. During this time, the skies above eastern Pennsylvania gathered into a tempest.

The wind lifted its voice. The snow descended in fierce abundance. It covered the hills and valleys as though the earth itself were being wrapped in a shroud of white.

And in those days, a child was born. It was not under gentle skies or in the warmth of spring. This happened during a storm that buried roads. It silenced towns and made even the strong take shelter.

The storm that day covered the world in white‑out. It was the kind that erases roads, landmarks, and every trace of what came before. This white‑out was more than a blizzard’s veil. It symbolized life itself in a double-edged manner. It presented a world erased yet also a canvas for renewal.

He was born into a world whited out by snow and silence. This new life also seemed marked by attempts to erase him. He was erased from memory, from lives, and from hope.

Yet, by the grace of Jesus, this white‑out became white=out: a divine correction, a sacred rewriting.

Years of failures, accusations, missteps, and crimson stains sought to mark him. The hand of grace used white-out to cleanse and renew him. It made him as pure and bright as that winter storm.

And the child was not wrapped in swaddling clothes. Instead, he was wrapped in blankets thick enough to guard against the cold. Meanwhile, the world outside lay under blankets of snow.

The shepherds did not abide in the fields. The fields were lost beneath drifts higher than a man’s shoulders. Neither were angels singing overhead, for the storm drowned out every voice but its own.

The storm raged on. It was as though March itself protested the arrival. March roared its disapproval, shaking the windows and stamping its frozen feet.

Yet the child endured, for even the fiercest lion cannot stop what Heaven has appointed.

And when the time came for the naming, it was spoken plainly and without hesitation:

“And you shall call his name Allen.”

In the years that followed, the storms of life would rise and fall. Yet, the One who quiets the winds would take him in hand.

He came into the world through the roar of the lion. In time, the Good Shepherd would shape him. Born a lion, he would become a lamb by grace.

4 Hymns of Redemption— There Is a Fountain

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

There is a Fountain

Some hymns comfort the heart, and some cleanse it. There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood does both. William Cowper, a man who knew the depths of despair and the fierce mercy of God, wrote this hymn. It is not polished or ornamental. It is honest. It is vulnerable. It is the cry of a soul. The soul has discovered that the only place to find cleansing is at the foot of the cross. It also finds healing there. Hope is found at the foot of the cross too.

Cowper’s words are not theoretical. They rise from a life marked by suffering, doubt, and repeated battles with darkness. And yet, out of that struggle came a powerful declaration of grace. It stands as one of the most profound in all of hymnody. The blood of Christ is not merely symbolic. It is effective, cleansing, restoring, and sufficient. This hymn does not shy away from the cost of redemption. It invites the believer to step into the stream of mercy that flows from Christ’s sacrifice. In that stream, they find a hope that cannot be shaken.

Zechariah 13:1 gives us the anchor:
“On that day there shall be a fountain opened… to cleanse them from sin and uncleanness.”
Cowper takes this ancient promise to the foot of Calvary. He reminds us that the fountain is not a metaphor. It is the very life of Christ poured out for us.

As you listen to the piano meditation, let this hymn wash over you. Let it remind you that grace is not fragile. Mercy is not scarce. The cleansing love of Christ is deeper than your failures and stronger than your fears. Let this be a moment of renewal.

Hymn Lyrics: There Is A Fountain

(Public Domain)

There is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there may I, though vile as he,
Wash all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved, to sin no more.

E’er since by faith I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme
And shall be till I die.

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave,
Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I’ll sing Thy power to save.

Audio Meditation


Let the music draw you into the cleansing, renewing mercy of Christ.

About the Hymnwriter

William Cowper (1731-1800) was a poet of extraordinary sensitivity and depth. His life was marked by profound emotional struggle, yet out of that struggle came hymns of remarkable clarity and hope. There Is a Fountain is one of his greatest works. It is a hymn that testifies to the power of Christ’s blood. This power can cleanse, restore, and sustain. Cowper partnered with John Newton, the author of Amazing Grace. They produced the Olney Hymns, a collection. This collection has shaped Christian worship for generations. His words remind us that God often brings the richest truth out of the deepest valleys.

Benedictional Prayer

May the cleansing love of Christ wash over your heart today.
May His mercy quiet every fear and lift every burden.
May His grace renew your hope and strengthen your steps.
And may the fountain of His salvation flow through every part of your life.
Amen.

GOD’S SAVINGS TIME: REDEEMING THE TIME WE HAVE

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

The Ritual That Changes Nothing

Twice a year we perform the same ritual. We move the hands of our clocks forward and backward as if time itself were clay in our grasp. We complain about losing an hour or gaining one. We often discuss “saving time,” although no one has ever saved a single second. The sun still rises and sets on the schedule God ordained in Genesis. The day remains twenty‑four hours long, no matter how many times we adjust the numbers glowing on our screens.

Daylight Savings Time is a perfect picture of human illusion. It feels important, but it accomplishes nothing of eternal value. It shifts the clock, but it does not shift the heart. It rearranges the hours, but it does not redeem them. It is a semi-annual ritual. It signifies our desire to feel in control of something we cannot command.

Scripture, however, calls us to something far weightier. We are not commanded to save time. We are commanded to redeem it.

Redeeming Time, Not Rearranging It

Paul writes, “Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” (Ephesians 5:16). The word redeem means to buy back, to seize, to rescue from loss. It is the language of urgency, stewardship, and eternal purpose. We cannot redeem the hours on a clock, but we can redeem the opportunities God places before us. We can redeem conversations, relationships, moments of influence, and windows of grace.

Paul reinforces this in Colossians 4:5: “Walk in wisdom toward them that are without, redeeming the time.” This is not about managing schedules. It is about reaching souls. It is about recognizing that every moment carries eternal weight.

Daylight Savings Time pretends to give us more daylight. God’s Savings Time calls us to walk in the light while it is still available.

The Call to Watchfulness

Daylight Savings Time is a harmless ritual, but spiritually it mirrors a far more dangerous pattern. Twice a year we adjust our clocks without adjusting our lives. We move the hands forward or backward. We feel as though we have accomplished something meaningful. Yet, nothing in eternity has changed. The sun rises and sets exactly as God ordained. The hours remain the same. Only our perception shifts.

In the same way, many believers have been lulled into a false sense of security. This is due to soothing messages and comfortable routines. A Christianity that promises rest without responsibility can also be misleading. We have been told to relax and settle in. We are encouraged to enjoy the blessings of God as if the Kingdom were a recliner. We treat discipleship as though it were a leisure activity. But Scripture paints a very different picture. The Kingdom of God is not a lounge chair; it is a field. It is not a place for slumber; it is a place for labor. It is not a retreat from responsibility; it is a call to action.

Paul’s warning becomes clearer in this light: “Knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep.” (Romans 13:11).. He is not speaking to the world; he is speaking to the Church. He is speaking to those who have drifted into spiritual Standard Time. They have become comfortable, predictable, and unhurried. They are unaware of the lateness of the hour. He follows with a phrase that cuts through every illusion of delay: “The night is far spent, the day is at hand.” (Romans 13:12).

This is not a poetic flourish. It is a diagnosis. The night is not approaching; it is already advanced. The day is not distant; it is pressing in. The time is late, and the work is urgent. The fields are not waiting for us to feel ready; they are already white for harvest. Jesus said, “Lift up your eyes… the fields are white already to harvest.” (John 4:35). Harvest time is not a season for sleep. Proverbs warn, “He that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame.” (Proverbs 10:5).

The Church has been comforted by complacency, but the Kingdom is calling us into wakefulness. We are not here to adjust clocks; we are here to redeem time. We are not here to preserve our comfort; we are here to rescue the lost. We are not here to drift through days; we are here to work while it is still day, because Jesus Himself declared, “Night is coming, when no one can work.” (John 9:4).

This is the heart of God’s Savings Time. It is not about gaining an hour of sunlight. It is about seizing the hour of salvation. It is about recognizing that every moment carries eternal weight. It is about refusing to sleep through the harvest while souls hang in the balance. It is about waking up, rising up, and stepping into the fields before the final night falls.

The Fields Are White, Not Waiting

Jesus told His disciples, “Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest.” (John 4:35). The harvest is not someday. The harvest is not when we feel ready. The harvest is not when the Church is comfortable. The harvest is now.

Proverbs adds its own warning: “He that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame.” (Proverbs 10:5). We are not called to sleep in harvest. We are called to labor in it.

Daylight Savings Time may shift the clock, but it does not shift the urgency of the harvest. Souls are perishing. Hearts are hardening. The night is approaching. The Church can’t afford to drift into spiritual Standard Time. Routine, complacency, and delay must be avoided. God is calling us into His Savings Time.

Numbering Our Days

Moses prayed, “Teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12). Numbering our days is not about counting them. It is about valuing them. It means understanding that every day is a gift. Each moment involves stewardship. Every opportunity is a divine appointment.

We cannot save time. But we can redeem it. We can invest it. We can sow it into eternity.

Daylight Savings Time is a ritual that changes nothing. God’s Savings Time is a calling that changes everything.

The Question That Matters

The question is not whether we have adjusted our clocks. The question is whether we have adjusted our lives.

Are we redeeming the time? Are we awake? Are we working while it is still day? Are we living in God’s Savings Time?

Because the night is coming. The trumpet will sound. And the work will be finished.

From Chains of Captivity to Prayers for Victory

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

A Letter from St. Patrick to a Nation in Need

To the people of this land, in a time of confusion and fear, from Patrick, a servant of Christ Jesus.

I was not born a saint. I was not born a hero. I was a boy who ignored the living God until chains taught me to pray. They took me from my home. They dragged me across the sea. They sold me into slavery in a land whose language I did not know. I fed animals in the cold. I slept on the ground. I feared the night. But in the fields of my captivity, the Lord had mercy on me. He opened my blind eyes. He broke my proud heart. He became my only hope.

When He delivered me, I believed the story was finished. But God does not free a man only for himself. He frees him for others. In a dream I heard the voices of the Irish calling out, “Come walk among us once more.” And the Spirit of God burned within me. The land that broke me became the land I was sent to heal.

I returned with no army, no wealth, no power—only the gospel of Jesus Christ. I walked into the halls of kings and the camps of druids. I faced curses, threats, and death. But Christ was my shield. Christ was my courage. Christ was my victory. I did not change Ireland. God did. I was only the vessel He forged in chains.

I look upon your nation now. It is anxious, divided, and wandering. It is hungry for truth. I tell you what I learned in my captivity. When a people forget God, they lose themselves. But when a people turn to Him, even the darkest land becomes a place of light.

You do not need luck. You do not need legends. You do not need the trappings of a holiday that has forgotten its own story. You need the living Christ. The same Christ met me in the fields of my slavery. He will also meet you in the wilderness of your time. The same Christ who broke my chains can break yours. The same Christ who sent me back to the land of my captors can send you. He can guide you into the broken places of your own nation.

In my day, I prayed a prayer of armor—a cry for God’s presence to surround me in a land filled with fear and darkness:

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me…

This was not poetry. It was survival. It was surrender. It was the only way to stand in a world at war with truth.

And long after my bones returned to the earth, another Irish believer prayed a similar cry—a prayer you now sing as a hymn:

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart…Thou my best thought, by day or by night…

BE THOU MY VISION A FITTING SONG FOR A TIME SUCH AS THIS

BE THOU MY VISION a Temple Music Production, all rights reserved

If you want to see revival during your lifetime, pray this just as I did: “Lord, be my vision.” Be my wisdom. Be my strength. Be my shield. Be my everything.”

From chains of captivity to prayers for victory—this is my testimony. Not of who I am, but of who God is.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Patrick, a slave of Christ, and a witness to His mercy.