From Manger to Marriage: Preparing the Bride, Not the Cradle


God’s Jealous Holiness

The very first commandment thunders: “You shall have no other gods before Me” (Exodus 20:3). This is not a suggestion—it is the foundation of covenant faith. God is a consuming fire (Deuteronomy 4:24), a jealous God who refuses to share His glory with idols (Isaiah 42:8). When His people profane His name by mixing pagan practices with worship, His wrath is stirred. Israel learned this the hard way: when they borrowed from Baal and the nations, He sent them into exile (Jeremiah 7:30–34).

Today, the church risks the same judgment. By elevating Christmas—a festival grafted onto the pagan worship of Sol Invictus, the sun god—we profane His holiness. We call it “the Christmas story,” but nowhere in Scripture are we commanded to honor His birth. The gospel is not about repeating manger scenes; it is about Christ crucified, risen, and returning.

The manger is past; the marriage is coming.


The Days of Noah Revisited

Jesus warned: “As it was in the days of Noah, so shall it be at the coming of the Son of Man” (Matthew 24:37–39). In Noah’s day, people ate, drank, married, bought, and sold—business as usual—until judgment swept them away.

Is it any different now? We have Christmas parties, shopping frenzies, and sentimental carols. There are decorated trees and manger displays. Meanwhile, the church remains oblivious to the urgency of Christ’s return. We are living in the days of Noah again: distracted, unprepared, blind to the storm clouds of judgment.

The manger is past; the marriage is coming.


The Gospel’s Completeness

The Incarnation was necessary because of sin, but it is not the center of the gospel. Scripture declares: “Christ was offered once to bear the sins of many” (Hebrews 9:28). Once born, once crucified, once risen. The manger is history; the cross is complete.

We do not rebirth Him every December. We do not repeat the gospel cycle of “baby Jesus” year after year. The gospel is eternal, not seasonal. Christ is alive, reigning, and coming again.

The manger is past; the marriage is coming.


The Bride vs. the Cradle

  • Christmas Sentiment: Preparing straw, donkeys, sheep, and manger scenes.
  • Kingdom Reality: Preparing garments of righteousness, hearts of repentance, and readiness for the Bridegroom (Revelation 19:7).

The church’s obsession with the cradle blinds it to the call of the Bride. Jesus is not looking for another manger; He is looking for a bride clothed in holiness, ready to receive Him.

The manger is past; the marriage is coming.


Hebrews 6: A Rebuke to Infancy

“Therefore let us leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity, not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God…” (Hebrews 6:1–3).

This is the piercing word for our generation. Year after year, the church lays again the same foundation. It presents Jesus as a baby in a manger. It shows Jesus on a cross and Jesus in a tomb. We rehearse the same scenes, decorate the same altars, and sing the same sentimental songs. But we never move on to the deeper things. These include resurrection power, eternal judgment, the indwelling Spirit, and the preparation of the Bride.

God’s Wrath Against Idolatry

The prophets declared that God hates corrupted festivals (Amos 5:21–23). He judged kings who tolerated Baal worship. He destroyed altars that profaned His name.

Christmas is not harmless tradition—it is a borrowed glory, a pagan overlay baptized into the church. God’s wrath is against all ungodliness and idolatry (Romans 1:18). To elevate Christmas as a “high holy day” is to risk His jealousy.


The Prophetic Call

The Spirit is saying: Stop profaning His glory with borrowed festivals.

  • Return to His appointed times—Passover, Pentecost, Tabernacles—the feasts Christ fulfilled and will fulfill.
  • Celebrate the living Christ, not a sentimental tradition.
  • Prepare not for another manger, but for the coming King.
  • Grow up into maturity—leave behind childish cycles and walk in the fullness of Christ.

The manger is past; the marriage is coming.


Closing Admonition

The jealous God is not looking for decorated trees or nostalgic carols. He is looking for a bride clothed in righteousness, ready to meet Him. The manger is past; the marriage is coming. The days of Noah are upon us—business as usual while judgment looms.

The call is urgent: repent, prepare, and watch, for the Bridegroom is at the door. Let us leave behind infancy and tradition, and go on to maturity in Christ.

The manger is past; the marriage is coming.

A Still Small Voice in the Midst of Noise


Candles for the Temple, Stones for the Christ


It was winter in Jerusalem. The temple glowed with borrowed fire, its lamps trembling against the night. Oil surrendered itself to the wick, a fragile flame destined to die. Songs rose in memory of deliverance, yet the Deliverer Himself walked unwelcomed beneath the colonnade.

Candles for the temple, stones for the Christ.


Stones in Their Hands, Darkness in Their Hearts

The stones they carried were not merely weapons—they were confessions. Hardened hands revealed hardened hearts. They lit external lights to honor a miracle of oil, but their souls remained unlit, their lives filled with shadow. The menorah burned in the temple, but the flame of faith was extinguished within them.


The Porch of Exclusion

Christ did not stand in the center of the temple, enthroned as High Priest. He walked the porch, the margins, the place of debate and suspicion. Even His location was a parable: the true Temple treated as an intruder to their festivities. Dedication was celebrated in stone, but the Dedicator Himself was pushed aside.


The Ancient Substitution

This pattern is older than the stones themselves:

  • The Ark adored, while the God of the Ark ignored.
  • The Temple exalted, while the Lord of the Temple rejected.
  • The Feasts observed, while the God of the feasts forgotten.

And the pattern endures: wafers raised while Christ is sidelined, Christmas packaging adored while the Lord of all is reduced to a seasonal diversion. Humanity clings to symbols because they can be controlled; it resists substance because it demands surrender.


Admonitions as Questions

  • Do we decorate the season and neglect dedication?
  • Do we polish the temple while ignoring the God of the temple?
  • Do we idolize the wrapper while discarding the gift?
  • Do we cling to ritual light while resisting the eternal Light?

The Call

The Festival of Lights burned in the temple, but the Light of the world was nearly snuffed out in the colonnade. Stones in their hands mirrored the stony hardness of their hearts. Candles in their temple masked the darkness of their lives. And Christ on the porch revealed their refusal to welcome Him as High Priest.

Rededicate not the stone, but the soul. Adore not the wrapper, but the Gift. Welcome not the flicker of ritual, but the brilliance of His presence

The Road Already Traveled




The snow had fallen heavy across the fields, a white blanket covering everything in sight. Yet as I drove my route, the roads beneath my tires were clear. Someone had gone before me. Road crews had braved the cold, plowed the snow, and laid down salt so I could travel safely. I didn’t see their labor, but I reaped its benefit.

That picture stayed with me: the unseen work of those who prepare the way. And I realized—it’s not just true of winter roads. It’s true of the life of faith.

Scripture tells us we are “surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses” (Hebrews 12:1). Men and women of faith who endured hardship, persecution, and trials have gone before us. They cleared the path, leaving behind testimonies of endurance and courage. Their footprints mark the way, showing us it can be done.

Paul could say at the end of his journey, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7). His words are like mile markers on the road, encouraging us to press on. The prophets, apostles, martyrs, reformers, and even faithful family members who walked with Christ—they all labored so we could travel confidently along the pathway they laid.

And here’s where the “comfort angel” comes in. Paul also writes that God comforts us in our affliction “so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God” (2 Corinthians 1:3–4). That’s the ministry of comfort: what once was frightening becomes manageable because someone else has already walked it, received God’s mercy, and left behind encouragement. Their testimony is like salt on icy roads, turning danger into safe passage.

Just as I thanked the road crews for their unseen work, I thank God for those who prepared the way of faith before me. Their endurance clears my doubts. Their testimony salts the icy patches of fear. Their example plows through the drifts of discouragement.

And now, the responsibility is ours. We are not only travelers—we are road crews for those who will come after. Our faithfulness today prepares tomorrow’s pathway. Our endurance becomes encouragement for the next generation.

So drive forward with confidence. The road is not uncharted. It has been traveled, tested, and proven. And as we follow Christ, we prepare the way for others to follow Him too—comforting them with the same comfort we ourselves have received.

We can travel the road of faith with confidence because of those who’ve cleared the way.

Once Born, Once Slain, Once Risen, Now Reigns


The church has been lulled into cycles of repetition, borrowing pagan customs and sentimental traditions that obscure the gospel. But the Word of God cuts sharper than any ritual. Here are four truths that stand immovable, each one a pillar of the greatest story ever told.

Christ was born once.

The incarnation was not a seasonal myth or a cycle to be replayed every December. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). That moment in Bethlehem was the opening act of redemption, the eternal God stepping into human frailty. He came once, and that was enough. To rehearse His birth as if it were an annual event is to reduce the incarnation to pagan repetition.

Christ died once.

The cross was not symbolic theater—it was the decisive sacrifice. “Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God” (1 Peter 3:18). Pagan gods die endlessly in cycles, but Christ’s death was final. It satisfied the wrath of God, fulfilled prophecy, and broke the curse. There is no need for repetition; the penalty has been paid in full.

Christ rose once.

The resurrection is the hinge of history. “He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:4). Unlike Baal or Sol Invictus, Christ does not rise each year with the sun. He rose once, never to die again. His empty tomb is the triumph that validates our faith and secures eternal life. This is not seasonal hope—it is eternal reality.

Christ forever reign.

The story does not end at the tomb. “He must reign until He has put all His enemies under His feet” (1 Corinthians 15:25). His ascension enthroned Him, and His reign is ongoing. He is not a Babe to be revisited each December—He is the King who rules now and will return in glory. The finale is not nostalgia but the appearing of Christ in power.

Admonition

Stop rehearsing pagan cycles. Stop lighting candles for what has already been fulfilled. Preach the gospel: once born, once slain, once risen, now reigns—soon to return.