Category Current Events

The resident raptor raps about current events

WHEN THE KINGDOM TREMBLES:

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

A Watchman’s Word for a Nation in Upheaval

Solomon once wrote:

“What has been will be again; what has been done will be done again. There is nothing new under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

If you want to understand the turmoil of our time, you don’t need a pundit. You need a Bible.

The unrest we see today is not new. The outrage, the factions, the calls for resistance, and the crowds stirred to avenge a leader have long existed. It is ancient. It is familiar. It is recorded in Scripture with unnerving precision.

The names change. The slogans change. The flags change.

But the spirit behind it does not.

THE DAY THE SONGS SHIFTED:

When Public Praise Became Political Crisis**

Israel’s political fracture began with a chant:

“Saul has slain his thousands, and David his tens of thousands.” (1 Samuel 18:7)

That lyrics were not entertainment. It was a national poll.

It told the nation. It told Saul. The people saw something in David they no longer saw in their king.

Scripture says:

“Saul eyed David from that day forward.” (1 Samuel 18:9)

That is the moment a leader stops governing and starts defending his throne.

THE GIANT THAT EXPOSED THE KING

For forty days, Goliath mocked Israel. For forty days, Saul — the tallest man in the nation (1 Samuel 9:2) — did nothing.

Then David stepped forward and did in minutes what the king failed to do in over a month:

“So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and a stone.” (1 Samuel 17:50)

This was not just a military victory. It was public humiliation for Saul.

David didn’t just silence a giant. He exposed a leader who had lost courage, clarity, and the anointing.

And insecure leaders do not forgive those who reveal their weakness.

THE RISE OF TWO CAMPS

From that moment, Israel split into two factions:

Saul’s Camp — The Old Guard

  • loyal to the throne
  • fearful of change
  • convinced David was a threat
  • emotionally tied to Saul’s past victories

David’s Camp — The New Movement

  • loyal to God’s anointing
  • drawn to righteousness
  • inspired by courage
  • convinced God was shifting the kingdom

This was not rebellion. This was discernment.

But Saul saw it as sedition.

THE POLITICS OF JEALOUSY AND FEAR

Saul’s insecurity metastasized into violence:

“Saul cast the spear… for he said, ‘I will pin David to the wall.’” (1 Samuel 18:11)

When that failed:

“Saul sought to kill David.” (1 Samuel 19:10)

He mobilized the army. He weaponized the state. He turned the machinery of government against a single man.

This is what happens when a leader loses the fear of God.

DAVID’S RESTRAINT:

The Only Thing That Prevented Civil War**

David had multiple opportunities to kill Saul:

  • in the cave at En Gedi (1 Samuel 24)
  • in the camp while Saul slept (1 Samuel 26)

His men urged him to strike. They saw it as justice. They saw it as self‑defense. They saw it as God’s will.

But David said:

“The Lord forbid that I should stretch out my hand against the Lord’s anointed.” (1 Samuel 24:6)

David refused to seize power by force. He refused to avenge himself. He refused to let outrage masquerade as righteousness.

He understood:

“He removes kings and raises up kings.” (Daniel 2:21)

And that sometimes a nation receives the leader it asked for:

“Make us a king to judge us like all the nations.” (1 Samuel 8:5)

And sometimes the leader it deserves:

“You have rejected your God… therefore the Lord will not hear you.” (1 Samuel 8:18)

David feared God more than he feared losing.

That is why he became king.

ABSALOM:

The Charismatic Usurper Who Weaponized Grievance**

Absalom didn’t begin with swords. He began with sentiment.

Scripture says:

“Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel.” (2 Samuel 15:6)

He positioned himself at the gate. He intercepted grievances. He amplified frustrations. He promised justice. He played the victim. He played the hero.

And when the moment was right:

“The conspiracy grew strong.” (2 Samuel 15:12)

A crowd convinced they were fighting for righteousness was actually fighting against God’s chosen king.

BARABBAS:

The Insurrectionist the Crowd Preferred Over the Messiah**

Pilate offered the people a choice:

  • Jesus, the innocent
  • Barabbas, the insurrectionist

Scripture is explicit:

“Barabbas was in prison with the rebels who had committed murder in the insurrection.” (Mark 15:7)

And the crowd shouted:

“Not this man, but Barabbas!” (John 18:40)

Then:

“Crucify Him!” (Mark 15:13)

The crowd believed they were defending justice. They demanded the release of a murderer and the execution of the Son of God.

That is what happens when outrage becomes a god.

THE WATCHMAN’S WORD FOR OUR TIME

A nation becomes Saul’s camp under several circumstances. This happens when it rallies to avenge a leader who feels threatened. It occurs when crowds are stirred into frenzy. It is observed when loyalty replaces discernment. When emotion replaces Scripture and outrage replaces obedience. Moreover, when personal conviction replaces the fear of the Lord, that nation is truly Saul’s camp. That nation has become Saul’s camp.

And Scripture warns what happens next.

The Watchman’s call is simple:

Do not let your outrage become your god. Do not let your loyalty become your idol. Do not let your emotions become your prophet. Do not strike what God has not commanded you to strike.

Because if you do, you may find yourself fighting against the very thing God Himself has established.

“Vengeance is mine,” says the Lord; “I will repay.” (Romans 12:19)

Benediction: The Posture of a Child of God in a Divided Nation

May the people of God remember. Our allegiance is to the Lord. It is not to the noise of the crowd or the fury of the moment. When nations rage and factions demand loyalty, may you stand where Scripture commands — not where outrage pushes.

May you refuse the spirit of Saul that strikes in fear. Embrace the spirit of David who waited on the Lord.

Reject the seduction of Absalom. He steals hearts with grievance. Cling to the Shepherd‑King. He leads with righteousness.

May you discern the difference between the crowd that cried “Crucify.” May you also see the remnant that stayed at the foot of the cross.

May your heart be governed by the Word, not by the winds of public opinion.
For it is written:

  • “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5-6)
  • “Be slow to speak, slow to anger, for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.” (James 1:19-20)
  • “Do not repay evil for evil but overcome evil with good.” (1 Peter 3:9)
  • “Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except from God.” (Romans 13:1)
  • “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.” (Matthew 5:9)

May you walk in fear of the Lord,
not the fear of losing influence.

May you speak truth without venom,
stand firm without violence,
and wait on God without grasping for power.

May your discernment be sharper than the rhetoric of the age. Let your obedience be deeper than the passions of the crowd.

When the kingdom trembles and the factions roar, may you be found among those who act only with God’s command. Do not follow a multitude to do evil. Trust the Judge of all the earth to do what is right.

May the Lord steady your steps,
guard your tongue,
anchor your heart,
and keep you from the snares of reaction.

For the kingdoms of this world rise and fall,
but the Kingdom of our God endures forever.

Amen.

PLAYOFF FAITH — RUN TO WIN

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
1 Corinthians 9:24-26


Imagine a sharp, high-definition shot from a night playoff game. Stadium lights cut through the cold air. Breath is visible from the linemen at the line of scrimmage. Grass is torn up under cleats. A roaring crowd is pressed in on all sides. On the field, helmets collide, jerseys stretch, and every yard is fought for. In the stands, thousands of hands are raised. Voices are lifted. Hearts are fully engaged. Yet only twenty-two people are actually in the game.

That’s the picture Paul presses into when he writes:“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.”—1 Corinthians 9:24

Every athlete starts the season with the same uniform. They have the same schedule. Everyone faces the same long list of practices and meetings. Film sessions are also part of the routine. In the same way, many believers step into the life of faith. They put on the “uniform.” They attend services. They lift their hands in worship. They learn the language of the kingdom. But Paul’s words cut through a dangerous assumption: simply being on the team does not guarantee the trophy. Not everyone who runs wins. Not everyone who shows up finishes with a crown.

There is a subtle mindset that creeps into the church. It is much like the attitude of some fans in the stands. They think, “I’m here, I’m cheering, I’m emotionally invested — so I’m part of the action.” The stadium needs spectators, but the scoreboard only tracks what happens on the field. In the same way, Christianity was never meant to be a spectator sport. It is not just about watching, reacting, and commenting from a distance. It is a participation calling — a summons onto the field, into the contact, into the cost.

Paul won’t let us hide in the bleachers. He pulls us down to field level and says, in essence: Look around. Everyone is running. Everyone is moving. Everyone appears busy. But only those who run with intention, discipline, and focus actually obtain the prize. That is the difference between regular-season faith and what we call Playoff Faith.

Regular-season faith is content to be present. Playoff Faith is determined to prevail.

Paul continues:“Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable.”— 1 Corinthians 9:25

Players on the field will push their bodies to the edge of exhaustion. They will study film deep into the night. They will live with relentless focus. All of this effort is for a trophy that will gather dust and a ring that will one day be buried. They do all of that for a glory that fades as soon as the next season starts. Meanwhile, believers are called to train for a crown that will never tarnish. It will never crack, never be outdated, and never be replaced.

Yet if we are honest, many of us have given more discipline to our hobbies, our careers, our favorite teams, and our entertainment than we have to the race of faith.

Paul refuses to preach from a safe distance. He does not see himself as a commentator in the booth, narrating the game while others take the hits. Listen to his language:“So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”— 1 Corinthians 9:26–27

This is not fear talking; it is focus. This man understands that calling is not the same as finishing. He knows gifting is not the same as winning. He knows that the uniform gives you access, but discipline brings advancement. He refuses to assume that being on the roster of preachers automatically places him on the podium of finishers.

This is where Playoff Faith is born. It doesn’t emerge in the spotlight. It grows in the quiet, unseen choices that separate contenders from the crowd. The ones who advance in the kingdom are not always the most talented. They are not always the most visible or the most loudly cheered. They are the ones who refuse to coast. The ones who refuse to confuse attendance with endurance. The ones who refuse to settle for a spiritual participation trophy when God has placed a real crown within reach.

Playoff Faith is the faith that steps out of the stands and onto the field. It’s the believer who decides, I will not only sing about surrender; I will actually surrender. I will not only clap for obedience; I will actually obey. I will not only cheer for others who run; I will run my own race to win. Christianity is not something we watch; it’s something we walk. It is not something we consume; it’s something we carry.

Playoff Faith wakes with purpose. It trains when no one is watching. It guards the heart when compromise whispers, “Just ease up. You’re doing more than most.” It keeps running when the season gets long and the hits get heavy. It remembers there is a finish line ahead. There is a real reward beyond it. It takes Paul’s words seriously: not everyone who enters the race wins the crown. Everyone who runs to obtain it has a real chance to finish with that crown in hand.

This is the invitation God puts before us. It is not to run casually. It is not to drift. It is not to live as if the outcome is automatic. The invitation is to run with fierce determination, to run with focused determination. That includes seeking the pleasure of God. It involves experiencing the joy of obedience. It testifies to a life that did more than watch from the stands.

You might feel small as a single player in a massive stadium. However, heaven is not judging you based on your seat. It is watching your race.

Playoff Faith does not settle for being on the team. Playoff Faith refuses the comfort of the bleachers. Playoff Faith runs, and trains, and presses, and finishes —to win.

🏈 BENEDICTION — FOR THOSE WHO RUN TO WIN

May the Lord strengthen your stride, discipline your heart, and focus your eyes on the imperishable crown.

May you refuse the comfort of the bleachers, the drift of casual faith, and the illusion that presence equals victory.
May you run with purpose, train with fire, and finish with joy.
And when the hits come, when the season stretches, when the crowd thins —may you remember that heaven does not reward the loudest cheer, but the deepest endurance.
You were not made to spectate. You were called to participate. You were chosen to run.
So run to win.
In Jesus’ name —
Amen.

🕊 Thanksgiving: Consecration, Not Consumption

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
A call to remember Plymouth Rock, Bradford’s lesson, and the biblical mandate of gratitude.



🌾 The Forgotten Feast

Thanksgiving in America has become a spectacle of excess—oversized turkeys, crowded tables, and competitive pie-making. But the original feast at Plymouth Rock was not about indulgence. It was about survival. It was about consecration.

In November 1620, the Pilgrims arrived in New England battered by storms and burdened by hope. They landed late in the season, with little time to prepare for winter. Disease, exposure, and starvation swept through the colony. By spring, nearly half had perished.

Their early experiment in communal living—mandated by their charter—required shared labor and shared harvest. It was a form of enforced equality. But instead of unity, it bred resentment and idleness. Governor William Bradford recorded that this system “was found to breed much confusion and discontent.” Young men balked at laboring for others’ families without reward. Productivity collapsed. Hunger deepened.

In 1623, Bradford made a bold change. He divided the land into private plots, allowing each family to plant and reap for themselves. The results were immediate. “This had very good success,” he wrote, “for it made all hands very industrious.” The colony flourished. The harvest came. And the Pilgrims gave thanks—not for abundance, but for survival.

📖 Scripture’s Model for Gratitude

The Pilgrims’ story echoes timeless biblical truths:

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

“Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread.” (Proverbs 12:11)

“Whatever one sows, that will he also reap.” (Galatians 6:7)

“If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat.” (2 Thessalonians 3:10)

And perhaps most fitting of all:

“Better a handful with contentment than abundance with strife.” (Ecclesiastes 4:6)

This verse pierces through the noise of modern Thanksgiving. It reminds us that peace and gratitude in simplicity are far richer than anxiety in excess.

⚖️ A Warning for Our Time

Today, we see an ever-expanding version of Bradford’s failed experiment. Promises of equality without responsibility have produced not abundance but poverty. Dependency has replaced diligence. Complaints about the cost of a Thanksgiving meal drown out gratitude for the little we have.

History warns us: when government replaces God as provider, bondage follows. When entitlement replaces stewardship, harvests shrink. When gratitude is lost, pride takes root.

The Pilgrims endured loss, yet they gave thanks. We endure abundance, yet we complain. This is the danger of complacency: forgetting the heights from which we have fallen.

🔔 A Pastoral Admonition

Beloved, Thanksgiving is not about who can host the biggest feast, carve the largest turkey, or bake the most pies. It is about a heart that has found contentment in what the Lord has provided. It is about gratitude in little or much.

Let us return Thanksgiving to its rightful place:

A daily rhythm of gratitude, morning and evening.

A national remembrance that every breath is mercy.

A consecrated altar where families pause to pray, repent, and give thanks for another year of life.

Let the Church lead the way. Let us honor God above government, stewardship above entitlement, and gratitude above complaint. For when we return to Him in thanksgiving, we will find not only provision for today but the promise of abundance in eternity.

“Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” (Revelation 19:9)

Now that’s a Thanksgiving meal I pray I get invited to!

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

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

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

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

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.