Unmasking the Masquerade: Testing the Spirits in an Age of Digital Deception


In recent weeks, headlines have sounded an alarm across the digital landscape. Popular accounts on X were once thought to be American voices of patriotism. However, these were actually foreign operations disguised as frontline journalism. Behind the avatars of stars and stripes were individuals posting from Turkey. Others were posting from Nigeria, Eastern Europe, and beyond. These individuals hid behind the fiery rhetoric of “citizen journalists” and “grassroots patriots.” Their goal was not dialogue but division—sowing discord, amplifying outrage, and spreading lies under the guise of neighborly concern.

The exposure of these masqueraders is more than a digital scandal; it is a prophetic signal. Scripture warned long ago that “certain individuals have secretly slipped in among you… ungodly people, who pervert the grace of our God” (Jude 4). What Jude described in the first century now plays out in real time across our social feeds. Wolves in sheep’s clothing have traded pulpits for platforms, but the strategy remains unchanged: infiltrate, deceive, and divide.

This moment calls for vigilance. John’s exhortation rings louder than ever: “Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world” (1 John 4:1). The Bereans modeled this discernment, examining the Scriptures daily to confirm truth (Acts 17:11). In our age, the same diligence must be applied—not only to sermons but to headlines, viral posts, and trending hashtags. Outrage is the bait; deception is the hook.

The danger is not merely foreign influence but spiritual intoxication. Peter’s warning is urgent: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). Emotional reactions—anger, fear, tribal loyalty—are the fuel of deception. To be sober-minded is to resist the intoxication of outrage. It means walking in clarity and peace even when the digital storm rages. Paul echoes this call in 2 Corinthians 11:14, reminding us that “Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.” The masquerade is not new; only the costumes have changed.

The Prophetic Parallel

Consider the prophetic parallel: these foreign-run accounts cloaked themselves in patriotism or compassion. Their origin was foreign and their intent was division. They did not seek mere popularity or digital influence. Their purpose was to inject falsehood into the public square. They pretended to be legitimate voices concerned for our welfare. It is sinister and evil. They speak the language of their father—the devil—who is the father of lies (John 8:44). Just as Satan disguises himself as an angel of light, these voices masquerade as patriots. They pose as journalists or neighbors, but their words are poisoned. The saints must be vigilant. They should store up truth that cannot be corrupted. They must refuse to be swayed by the counterfeit compassion of deceivers.

And so the Word presses us further: “Look to yourselves, that you do not lose those things we worked for, but that you may receive a full reward” (2 John 1:8). The danger is not only being misled by false voices, but losing the very testimony and inheritance we have been entrusted with. Vigilance is not optional—it is the safeguard of salvation’s reward.

The watchman’s task is unchanged. Ezekiel 33 describes the watchman who sees danger and sounds the alarm. Today, the danger is digital infiltration, and the alarm is discernment. The church must not be naïve. Many false prophets have gone out into the world, and many false voices have gone online into our feeds. The masquerade has been unmasked, but the masquerade itself continues. The saints must be vigilant, discerning, Berean, and sober-minded.

Yes, Elon Musk’s “unmask” feature on X has exposed many false profiles, but the greater unmasker is the Holy Spirit. “When He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all truth” (John 16:13). The Spirit is our safeguard, our discerner, and our guide. Jesus Himself declared: “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me” (John 10:27). The best defense against deception is not technology, but obedience to the Shepherd’s voice.


✒️ Closing Admonition

Take heed, little flock. Many voices seek to ensnare, but you shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free. The Shepherd’s voice is clear, and His sheep will obey no other.


Tagline

“Let God be true, and every man a liar” (Romans 3:4).

The Shutdown: A Barnyard Parable


Muddy Waters and Judging Between Sheep and Sheep

“Is it not enough for you to feed on the good pasture? Must you also muddy the rest of the water with your feet?” — Ezekiel 34:18



“As for you, my flock, this is what the Sovereign LORD says: I will judge between one sheep and another, and between rams and goats.” — Ezekiel 34:17

The farm’s gates swing shut. “Emergency measures,” trumpet the Elephants. “Necessary sacrifice,” bray the Donkeys. But inside the Big House, both species feast together on grain that was meant for winter storage.

Out in the barnyard, the animals take sides. “The Donkeys caused this!” cry the mice who follow the Elephants. “The Elephants are starving us!” bleat the sheep who trust the Donkeys. They fight over muddied water troughs while neither notices the pipeline running straight from the well to the Big House.

The exhausted horses, working three shifts to buy the same oats that used to cost half, don’t have energy to question why the “opposition” parties keep meeting for midnight suppers. The cows, confused by conflicting reports about which field has grass, give up and chew whatever’s in front of them—usually each other.

Old Major’s dream of “All Animals Are Equal” still hangs painted on the barn, but smaller print keeps appearing underneath: “During Shutdowns, Some Exceptions Apply.” “Temporary Emergency Measures May Extend Indefinitely.” “Your Sacrifice Ensures Our—I Mean YOUR—Security.”

The pigs—now “consultants” who work for both Elephants and Donkeys—explain that the muddy water is actually better for you. “Minerals,” they oink. “Probiotics. Trust the science we funded.”

But one ancient ram remembers Ezekiel’s prophecy: The Judge sees through barn walls. He knows which hooves muddied the water. He’s coming to separate those who got fat on others’ grain from those who starved believing the performance.

The question echoes across the barnyard: When you see them muddying the trough, do you help clear it? Or do you kick in more dirt because your side told you it helps?

The Judge is taking notes. And He’s particularly interested in why the Elephants and Donkeys keep accidentally ordering the same catering service.

But then—the first drops fall.

Rain. Clean, unmuddied, straight from heaven. No pipeline can capture it. No spin can poison it at the source. The animals lift their faces, tongues out, tasting clarity for the first time in years.

Some animals stop fighting over the muddy troughs. They position buckets, barrels, anything that holds water. “Why drink their mud when we can wait for rain?” whispers one lamb to another. Word spreads through the underground—not through official channels the Big House monitors, but farmer to farmer, sheep to sheep: The Judge hasn’t forgotten. He’s sending what they can’t control.

The Elephants and Donkeys panic. They can’t shut down rain. They try: “Unauthorized water collection is dangerous! Only properly filtered water protects you!” But more animals notice—every time it rains, the Big House residents rush to cover their feast tables while the rest of creation drinks freely.

And in the distance, a figure approaches through the storm. Not another politician-shepherd with promises. The Owner Himself, come to judge between sheep and sheep, between those who muddied and those who chose to thirst for truth.

The real revolution isn’t overthrowing the Big House. It’s remembering water doesn’t come from them. It never did.

“I Myself will tend My sheep… I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy. I will shepherd the flock with justice.” —Ezekiel 34:15-16

Look up. The forecast shows more rain coming.

Faith and Freedom from Dependency


LEVIATHAN’S PLANTATION: When God’s People Choose Pharaoh’s Portion

I spent four years knocking on heaven’s door while eating scraps from Caesar’s table. $229 in SNAP benefits that barely stretched, checking account under $100, watching savings evaporate like morning dew. I wasn’t lazy—I was grinding, seeking, knocking. But the door stayed shut while Leviathan’s window stayed open, dispensing just enough to survive, never enough to thrive.

Then two months ago—after FOUR YEARS—God opened the door I’d been bloodying my knuckles on. Real provision, real work, real dignity. My savings restored, my needs met, my SNAP card gathering dust. And now? Now Leviathan announces its cupboard is bare, its plantation bankrupt. God’s timing is savage in its perfection. He delivered me from Egypt precisely as Pharaoh’s pantry failed.

This is the testimony 41 million Americans need to hear. They won’t hear it because Leviathan’s first lie is that it’s your only option.

Watch the grotesque genius of this bondage: The Potomac beast sits like Jabba the Hutt. It is immobilized by its own consumption, too bloated to hunt. It demands tribute from frozen senators who toss citizens into its maw. We thought we were negotiating with a government. We were making covenant with Leviathan. Job 41:4 asks, “Will he make a covenant with you? Will you take him as your servant forever?” We reversed the equation—we became ITS servants, defending our dealer like addicts protecting their supply.

The cruelest slavery convinces captives they’re customers. The protestors cry “No kings!” while clutching their EBT cards. They miss the irony that they’ve already bent the knee to the king who keeps them fed but never free. They’ve forgotten how to fish because Leviathan banned fishing lessons along with the nets. “Teach a man to fish” became “Teach a man to stand in line.”

Numbers 11 exposes the heart: Israel wept for Egyptian leeks while manna fell from heaven. “We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing!” But it cost EVERYTHING—their freedom, their dignity, their children’s futures. Today’s leeks come via direct deposit, today’s bondage through dependency programs. The fish costs nothing except your soul.

Here’s what Leviathan never tells its plantation workers: Every patriarch started as a wanderer. Abraham left comfort for promise. Moses chose reproach over treasure. David went from shepherd to king through the wilderness, not the welfare office. God’s economy runs on faith-risk, not safety nets that become spider webs.

The solution isn’t reform—you can’t domesticate chaos. Isaiah 27:1 promises God will slay “Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan the twisting serpent.” Our job? Stop performing CPR on what God condemned. Every continuing resolution breathes life into dead nostrils. Every new program adds scales to the dragon. Every dependency deepens the plantation.

I was young, but now I’m old. I’ve never seen the righteous forsaken or God’s children begging bread. I’ve watched millions trade their birthright for government pottage. They defend the very chains that bind them. They forgot that the God who splits rocks in the wilderness still opens doors after four years of knocking.

Jesus said, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”

And He also said, “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”

The plantation is collapsing. The door is opening. Which testimony will you become?

This has been a “View From the Nest” and that is the way I see it! What say you?

The Church of Jeroboam: How Halloween Exposes our Calendar of Compromise


By Allen Frederick

This article serves to peel back the layers of spiritual compromise hidden within the modern Christian calendar. It is much like unwrapping a mummy to reveal the skeletons in the closet. With historical and biblical precision, it shows the repackaging of ancient pagan rituals. These rituals have been accepted under the guise of Christian tradition. The purpose is to challenge believers to discern these counterfeit practices. The goal is to call the Church back to God’s original appointed times and faithful worship. This will restore reverence and truth to our sacred calendar.

“Jeroboam ordained a feast on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, like the feast that was in Judah… in the month which he had devised in his own heart.” —1 Kings 12:33

In two days, millions of Christians will dress their children as demons. They will decorate their sanctuaries with skeletons. They will call it “outreach.” They’ll defend this spiritual masquerade with theological gymnastics, claiming they’ve “redeemed” a pagan death festival for Christ.

They haven’t. They’ve become the Church of Jeroboam.

The Pattern of Apostasy

Jeroboam faced a significant political problem. It arose when he became king of Israel’s northern tribes after the kingdom split (1 Kings 12:20). If his people kept traveling to Jerusalem for God’s appointed feasts, they might defect back to Judah. His solution? Create counterfeit worship that felt familiar but kept people under his control.

His innovations were damning:

  • Golden calves in Bethel and Dan—“It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem. Here are your gods, O Israel” (1 Kings 12:28)
  • Non-Levite priests“He made priests from every class of people, who were not of the sons of Levi” (1 Kings 12:31)
  • A new feast day on the 15th of the 8th month—“like the feast that was in Judah” (1 Kings 12:32)
  • Alternative worship centers“He offered sacrifices on the altar which he had made in Bethel” (1 Kings 12:33)

Sound familiar? It should. The modern Church has perfected Jeroboam’s playbook.

Jeroboam, Thy Name Is Pope Gregory

The Celtic festival of Samhain never died. When Rome suppressed Druidism around 60 CE, the practices went underground but lived on in rural communities. When Christianity arrived, it found these death rituals still thriving.

Enter Pope Gregory I (590-604), who pioneered “interpretatio Christiana”—the strategy of absorbing pagan practices rather than destroying them. His successor, Pope Gregory III (731-741), moved All Saints’ Day to November 1st, directly overlaying Samhain.

Jeroboam created alternative feast days to keep political power. Pope Gregory created alternative holy days to gain religious control. Both compromised God’s truth for human convenience. Both made unauthorized additions to God’s calendar. Both led God’s people into generational apostasy.

The Druids dressed in animal skins to hide from spirits. We dress in polyester to mock them. The ritual remains—only the rationale has changed.

Halloween: The Gateway Drug

Walk through any Spirit Halloween store (prophetic name, isn’t it?) and witness the fruit:

  • Ouija boards marketed to children
  • Demon costumes labeled “fun”
  • Witchcraft normalized as entertainment
  • Death glorified as decoration

We didn’t defeat paganism—we legitimized it. We gave darkness a Christian name and watched it devour our children.

Scripture warns: “Do not learn the way of the nations” (Jeremiah 10:2). Yet we’ve done more than learn—we’ve mastered their ways.

The Reformation That Wasn’t

Here’s the ultimate irony. Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the Wittenberg door on October 31, 1517. He did this not to mock Satan. He chose this date because crowds would gather for All Saints’ Day. He used a compromised holiday to protest compromise.

But the Protestant Reformation reformed theology while keeping Rome’s calendar. We protested the papacy but preserved their parties. We rejected transubstantiation but kept Saturnalia. We abandoned purgatory but clung to Easter eggs.

The Reformers broke from Rome’s doctrine but remained shackled to Gregory’s calendar. They changed the management but kept Jeroboam’s system intact. We became protesters who still party on pagan holidays.

The Trinity of Compromise

Halloween isn’t alone. It’s part of an unholy trinity:

Christmas – Rome’s Saturnalia rebranded. We celebrate Christ’s birth on a date He wasn’t born, using symbols He never sanctioned.

Easter – Ishtar’s fertility festival baptized. We celebrate resurrection with pagan eggs and rabbits while ignoring Passover, which actually points to the Lamb.

These aren’t cultural accommodations. They’re high places we refuse to tear down. Sacred cows we defend more fiercely than God’s actual appointed times:

  • Passover (Leviticus 23:5)
  • Pentecost/Shavuot (Leviticus 23:16)
  • Tabernacles/Sukkot (Leviticus 23:34)
  • Day of Atonement/Yom Kippur (Leviticus 23:27)

The Cost of Compromise

Scripture mentions “the sin of Jeroboam” twenty-one times. Every king was judged by whether they “walked in the ways of Jeroboam” (1 Kings 15:34). His compromise became generational apostasy.

The pattern persists:

  • Jeroboam: “Worship Yahweh, but my way”
  • Pope Gregory: “Come to Christ, but keep your festivals”
  • Protestant Church: “Sola Scriptura, but not for holidays”
  • Modern Church: “Reach the lost by joining their parties”

A Prophetic Call

God didn’t whisper when He judged Jeroboam. He shouldn’t whisper now.

To Pastors: Stop defending what God never ordained. Your theological degrees don’t authorize you to rewrite God’s calendar. “Come out from among them and be separate” (2 Corinthians 6:17).

To Parents: Every costume is a catechism. What are you teaching? “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness” (Ephesians 5:11).

To the Remnant: Yes, you’ll be hated. Yes, you’ll be called legalistic. Stand anyway. “You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons too” (1 Corinthians 10:21).

The Bottom Line

The Church didn’t redeem Samhain. It resurrected it. We gave paganism a priestly robe and wondered why our children can’t discern darkness from light.

Jeroboam’s epitaph was simple: “He made Israel to sin” (1 Kings 14:16). Gregory’s legacy is identical. The Reformation’s failure is the same. If we continue in their footsteps, our epitaph will match theirs.

This Halloween, while others party with darkness, may a faithful remnant rise. They will declare: “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15). This commitment will be on His terms, in His time, by His Word alone.

The high places must fall. The sacred cows must die. The calendar must return to its Creator.

It’s time to stop being the Church of Jeroboam.

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

When God Prunes His Vineyard:


A Prophetic Call to the American Church

“For it is time for judgment to begin at the household of God” (1 Peter 4:17).

A generation is returning to our doors, but what they find may prompt heaven’s pruning shears.

God's Vinedresser
When God get’s out His pruning shears

Introduction: The Surge That Isn’t a Revival

  • Headline Trend: Church attendance in the U.S. has risen to 32% in 2025, reversing a 15-year decline.
  • Bible Engagement: Gen Z and Millennial men are driving a quiet resurgence in Bible interest.
  • But the Question Remains: Are we returning to God—or just returning to the building?

The Ancient Pattern

This isn’t new. Ezekiel watched as God’s glory departed the temple—but judgment began at the sanctuary (Ezekiel 9:6). The priests wept between the porch and altar. Josiah found the Book of the Law buried under religious debris (2 Kings 22). Hezekiah cleansed temples turned into idol storage (2 Chronicles 29).

History’s rhythm: Revival, compromise, judgment, repentance, restoration. We’re somewhere in that cycle, and the Master Gardener is examining His vineyard.

The Barren Fig Tree: When Orthodoxy Produces No Life

Jesus told this parable with divine patience and terrifying finality:

But mercy intervened—one more year. One more chance. One more vinedresser willing to get dirty.

What It Means to Dig Around the Roots

“Sir, let it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put on manure” (Luke 13:8).

The vinedresser doesn’t just water leaves or polish bark. He digs deep around the roots. This is invasive, uncomfortable work:

• Exposing what’s hidden—the root systems of tradition, pride, fear

• Disturbing the comfortable—challenging why we do what we do

• Examining the foundation—is it drawing from Living Water or stagnant wells?

• Adding fresh manure—new anointing, prophetic words, uncomfortable truths that fertilize

When the Tree Rejects the Vinedresser

Some trees prefer death to disturbance.

I know churches that recite ancient catechisms weekly—beautiful, orthodox, dead. They have male elders, biblical structure, reformed theology. They can parse Greek verbs but can’t perceive God’s presence. They guard tradition like temple police while the glory has long departed.

When God sends a vinedresser to dig—someone with dirt under their nails and tears in their eyes—they often reject the mercy meant to save them. Why?

• The digging hurts—it exposes roots wrapped around rocks of tradition

• The manure stinks—fresh anointing offends religious sensibilities

• The change threatens—what if we’ve been wrong all these years?

The Final Season

Sometimes God says to His vinedressers: “Leave. Watch. Let them choose.”

This isn’t abandonment—it’s the final mercy. The tree must choose: submit to the shears or face the axe. Accept the fresh manure or remain barren. Let the vinedresser dig or die with dignity intact.

The Heartbreak of the Vinedresser

Those called to dig around foundations carry unique wounds. They see what could be. They offer what’s needed. They’re usually rejected by the very ones they’re sent to save.

But here’s the prophetic truth: The vinedresser’s testimony becomes evidence. Their rejected service becomes witness. Their tears become intercession. And their departure? Sometimes it starts the clock on that final year of grace.

Are we in that final year of grace?

When Kingdoms Eclipse the Kingdom

The Temple Chant

Jeremiah warned: “Do not trust in these deceptive words: ‘This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord'” (Jeremiah 7:4). Today’s version? “We’re growing! We’re relevant! We’re reaching the culture!”

But institutional pride is not spiritual power. Packed pews don’t equal pure hearts. We’re building temples of applause while Jesus stands outside, knocking—not at our cathedral doors, but at the door of our hearts.

I watched it happen in the 1980s. Jimmy Swaggart’s ministry reached millions—crusades, television, music that moved hearts to tears. But somewhere, the ministry became a kingdom. The messenger eclipsed the Message.

God doesn’t share His glory. The pruning was public, painful, and necessary. Not to destroy, but to humble. Not to end, but to redirect. “Every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit” (John 15:2).

The Fruit Inspector Cometh

When young seekers enter our churches, what fruit do they find?

  • Galatians 5 fruit? Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness?
  • Or plastic fruit? Programs, performances, productions?

Jesus warned: “You will recognize them by their fruits” (Matthew 7:16). Not attendance. Not budgets. Not branding. Fruit.

The Hope in the Pruning

God prunes what He loves. He disciplines His children (Hebrews 12:6). The shears in His hand aren’t weapons—they’re tools of restoration.

Where should seekers go?

Look for churches with pruning scars. Leaders humbled and healed. Congregations marked by costly obedience through suffering.

Find places digging around roots, adding manure of repentance, waiting for true fruit. These communities exist—usually smaller, always authentic, forever marked by encounters with the living God.

The Choice: Living Tree or Whitewashed Tomb

Now every church—every believer—stands at the ancient fork:

The Wide Path: Whitewashed Tombs

Jesus reserved His harshest words for this choice:

Markers:

  • Orthodox outside, dead inside
  • Protecting tradition over presence
  • Reciting truth without transformation
  • Offering hungry seekers stones painted like bread
  • Counting attendance while heaven counts fruit

The Narrow Path: Trees of Life

Another way—costly, uncomfortable, glorious:

Markers:

  • Roots deep in living water, not tradition
  • Bearing fruit that feeds the hungry
  • Submitting to the Vinedresser’s shears
  • Choosing disturbance over death
  • Becoming shelter for seekers, not museum for saints

The Question That Determines Everything

Will you be a tree that feeds the hungry or a tomb that impresses the religious?

Young seekers aren’t looking for catechisms. They want Christ. They smell death through whitewash. They hunger for life, even from scarred, pruned trees.

Choose now. The Vinedresser waits with His shears. The season of grace won’t last.

The Urgent Hour

Judgment begins at God’s house because we know better. We have the Word. The Spirit. The history. When we offer religious performance instead of living water, we’re failing—we’re under judgment.

But mercy knocks. The Gardener offers one more season. The question: Submit to shears, or wait for the axe?

This generation hungers for God. Let’s stop feeding them everything else. Submit to pruning, return to first love, bear fruit that remains.

The alternative? “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (Matthew 7:19).

The choice is ours. The hour is late. The Gardener is waiting.

This has been “A View From the Nest.” And that is the way I see it! What say you?