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Beyond “Why Me?”: Finding Trust in the Midst of the Storm

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

Then the Lord answered Job from the whirlwind. He said: “Who is this who obscures My counsel with ignorant words? Get ready to answer Me like a man; when I question you, you will inform Me.” — Job 38:1–3

Job was a righteous man who, from a human perspective, did nothing to deserve his hardship. He lived a blameless life, honored God, and walked uprightly. Yet, when devastating tragedy struck, Job cried out in grief and questioned why God was allowing such agony.

The moment the Lord spoke, Job realized the weight of who he was addressing. God responded to Job’s questioning with a series of sobering, awe-inspiring questions of His own:
“Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Where were you when I set the boundaries for the sea? Where were you when I hung the stars in the heavens?”
God’s response humbled Job instantly. It reminded him that finite human understanding cannot begin to grasp the depth of infinite divine wisdom.
It is easy for us to fall into the trap of thinking we have everything figured out—until God steps in and reveals just how vast He is and how small we are. As the Psalmist writes, only a fool says in his heart there is no God. When faced with His divine presence, all self-importance vanishes, leaving us speechless.
We aren’t as wise or in control as we like to imagine. True strength begins when we humble ourselves before God, submit to His sovereign wisdom, and choose to trust and praise Him—even when the answers don’t come in the way we expect.

WHEN THE PULPIT STOPS LISTENING

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

The Church does not need more religious noise. It needs the courage to hear—and obey—the living voice of God.

There is a kind of preaching that can fill a room and still leave the soul empty.

It can be researched, rehearsed, and rhetorically flawless. It can explain the ancient world, defend sound doctrine, and land precisely on schedule. People may admire it, quote it, and share it. Yet when the final amen fades, nothing has moved. No hidden allegiance has been exposed. No wounded conscience has been restored. No clear act of obedience has begun.

The sermon carried information but not encounter.

This is the quiet danger facing the modern pulpit: not an absence of biblical language, but an absence of holy listening. We have become skilled at preparing messages for God while neglecting to wait before God. In doing so, we risk treating Scripture as material to manage rather than the place where the risen Christ addresses His people. Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me” (John 10:27, KJV).

A pulpit forfeits its prophetic credibility when it presumes to speak for God before it has listened humbly to God.

The Difference Between a Message and a Word

A message can be assembled. A word must be received.

This does not diminish study, discipline, or theological training. Careful interpretation honors Scripture. Sound doctrine protects the Church from confusion. Preparation is an act of stewardship. But none of these can replace dependence on the Holy Spirit. Tools become idols when they allow the messenger to feel no need for God.

The prophetic dimension of preaching is not theatrical intensity, private speculation, or the pursuit of novelty. It is the Spirit-enabled application of enduring truth to a present moment. It is the sacred intersection where the written Word confronts the actual condition of a people.

That kind of preaching does not merely ask, “What does this passage mean?” It also asks, “What must we now believe, abandon, endure, repair, or obey because this is true?”

Scripture: “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16, KJV). Paul also writes that the things of God are revealed “by his Spirit” (1 Corinthians 2:10, KJV).

The Seduction of the Familiar

Experience is a valuable servant, but a dangerous master. It teaches patterns, builds instincts, and helps us avoid old mistakes. Yet experience can only report what has already happened. It cannot determine what God may require next.

Peter knew how to fish. He understood the water, the timing, the nets, and the labor. His empty boat was not the result of laziness; it was the limit of expertise. Then Jesus spoke an instruction that did not flatter Peter’s professional judgment. The carpenter told the fisherman where to cast.

Peter’s breakthrough began with one surrendered sentence: “Nevertheless at thy word I will let down the net” (Luke 5:5, KJV).

That is the hinge of discipleship. Faith does not require us to pretend we have no knowledge. It requires us to place what we know beneath the authority of the One who sees what we cannot.

Scripture: “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths” (Proverbs 3:5–6, KJV).

Many churches are exhausted because they keep casting from the same side of the boat. The calendar remains full, the machinery keeps turning, and familiar methods are defended with increasing intensity. But repetition is not faithfulness merely because it is familiar. Sometimes the most faithful thing a ministry can do is admit that an old method has become an empty net.

When Certainty Outruns Discernment

The friends of Job remind us that religious speech can be confident, coherent, and cruel. They possessed explanations for suffering, moral categories for behavior, and arguments about the character of God. What they lacked was permission to reduce Job’s pain to their formulas.

Their error was not that every sentence they spoke was false. Their error was that they forced partial truths onto a mystery they had not heard God explain.

Scripture: The Lord said to Eliphaz, “Ye have not spoken of me the thing that is right, as my servant Job hath” (Job 42:7, KJV).

This danger still lives in pulpits, podcasts, and private counsel. We can use theology to avoid compassion. We can label what we should lament. We can pronounce judgment where God has called us to sit in silence. A preacher who has not listened deeply may mistake certainty for authority and volume for anointing.

True prophetic speech is therefore marked by humility. It does not make the preacher larger; it makes Christ clearer. It does not manipulate people with claims of secret access. It remains accountable to Scripture, open to testing, and willing to be corrected: “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good” (1 Thessalonians 5:21, KJV). Likewise, believers are told to “try the spirits whether they are of God” (1 John 4:1, KJV).

The Lamp Rarely Shows the Whole Road

We often want God to provide a floodlight when He has promised a lamp. A floodlight reveals the landscape. A lamp gives enough light for the next faithful step: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path” (Psalm 119:105, KJV).

Abraham was called to leave before he knew every detail of the destination. God told him, “Get thee out of thy country… unto a land that I will shew thee” (Genesis 12:1, KJV), and Hebrews says, “he went out, not knowing whither he went” (Hebrews 11:8, KJV). Peter was told to cast before the catch appeared. Again and again, biblical obedience begins with sufficient light rather than complete explanation.

Our demand for certainty can become a respectable form of resistance. We tell ourselves we are waiting for clarity when we are actually postponing surrender. But direction often becomes clearer in motion. The path opens beneath obedient feet.

God does not always reveal the entire route. He reveals enough of Himself to make the next step trustworthy.

Leaves Are Not the Harvest

Leaves are not evil. They are simply not the harvest. Jesus warned that a tree is known by its fruit: “Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them” (Matthew 7:20, KJV).

In the life of a church, leaves may look like attendance, branding, production quality, vocabulary, influence, and activity. These things can serve a healthy ministry, but they cannot prove one. Fruit is measured in transformed character and faithful conduct: repentance, reconciliation, courage, generosity, holiness, perseverance, mercy, and love. Paul names the fruit of the Spirit as “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance” (Galatians 5:22–23, KJV).

A ministry becomes spiritually barren when maintaining the appearance of life matters more than receiving the correction that produces life. It may celebrate reach while avoiding depth. It may defend its traditions while neglecting its neighbors. It may preach victory while its people remain unable to confess weakness or seek help.

The test of a living word is not whether it impresses the hearer. It is whether it creates room for the life of Christ to take form.

The Work of a Listening Church

Recovering a living pulpit is not the responsibility of preachers alone. Congregations can train leaders to perform by rewarding polish and resisting discomfort. If people demand inspiration without repentance, affirmation without correction, and certainty without mystery, they will eventually receive sermons designed to satisfy them rather than shepherd them.

A listening church cultivates a different appetite. It honors study but hungers for encounter. It tests spiritual claims without despising the Spirit. It welcomes conviction without surrendering to manipulation. It recognizes that the same Word may comfort the grieving, disturb the complacent, restrain the impulsive, and call the fearful forward.

Scripture: “Despise not prophesyings. Prove all things; hold fast that which is good” (1 Thessalonians 5:20–21, KJV). The goal is transformation, not mere exposure to words: “Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2, KJV).

Such a church asks better questions:

  • Are we becoming more like Christ, or merely more familiar with religious language?
  • What obedience has this truth made unavoidable?
  • Where have our methods become substitutes for trust?
  • Whose pain have our explanations ignored?
  • What fruit is the Spirit seeking to grow among us now?

Before the Next Sermon

The renewal of the pulpit may begin in a place no audience ever sees: a closed door, an open Bible, and a servant willing to become silent.

Before asking for a clever introduction, ask for a clean heart. Before searching for an illustration, search your motives. Before deciding what the people need to hear, allow the Word to address you first. The preacher must not stand above the text as its expert, but beneath it as its first hearer.

Scripture: “Take heed unto thyself, and unto the doctrine; continue in them” (1 Timothy 4:16, KJV). The preacher is also charged, “Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15, KJV).

Then speak plainly. Refuse manufactured drama. Do not claim more certainty than God has given. Name sin without losing tenderness. Offer grace without removing the call to change. Scripture commands us to speak “the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15, KJV) and to let our speech be “alway with grace, seasoned with salt” (Colossians 4:6, KJV). Point beyond your insight to the Shepherd whose voice alone can lead people home.

The Church does not need less Scripture. It needs Scripture handled by people who tremble before its Author. It does not need less theology or less diligent preparation. It needs theology warmed by worship, preparation governed by prayer, and both proven in love. Nor does it need endless claims of revelation. It needs men and women who know the difference between divine prompting and personal impulse—and who possess the character to wait when God has not spoken.

Launch Again

Perhaps the emptiness of the nets is not evidence that God has abandoned the boat. Perhaps it is an invitation to listen again.

The answer may not be another program, louder promotion, or a more impressive platform. It may be a return to the simple, costly posture that marked Samuel’s calling: “Speak; for thy servant heareth” (1 Samuel 3:10, KJV).

When He speaks, the command may challenge experience. It may expose cherished habits. It may lead beyond the shore of control. But the voice that calls us into deeper water is the same voice that rules the sea. When Jesus rebuked the wind and said, “Peace, be still,” the wind ceased and there was a great calm (Mark 4:39, KJV).

The future of fruitful ministry will not belong to those who create the most noise. It will belong to those who hear clearly, test faithfully, and obey courageously.

Prayer: Lord, deliver us from words that have never passed through surrender. Teach us to receive Scripture with reverence, to discern Your leading with humility, and to obey without delay. Make our pulpits more than platforms and our churches more than gatherings. Let Your truth take root among us until the leaves give way to fruit. Amen.

Shaken, Not Forsaken: God’s Warning in a Wobbling World

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
If the Earth Is Shaking, Perhaps God Is Knocking

Reading the Times Without Panic

This is not a call to read every headline as a code to be cracked. It is a call to read the times with spiritual sobriety. Scripture does not invite us into panic, prediction charts, or fear-driven speculation. It invites us into discernment. When the world shakes, the question for the believer is not, “How frightened should I be?” The better question is, “What is God revealing, and how should I live in response?”

Jesus once told His disciples that the world would experience a season He called “the beginning of birth pains.” He was not giving them a newspaper checklist so they could sensationalize every crisis. He was teaching them how to interpret upheaval with sober eyes and steady hearts. There would be wars, rumors of wars, famines, earthquakes, and convulsions of every kind. But He also said these things were not the end. They were contractions before arrival, tremors before transition, shaking before revealing.

“For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are but the beginning of the birth pains.” Matthew 24:7–8 (ESV)

Birth pains are not random. They have rhythm. They increase in intensity. They point to something coming that has not yet fully arrived. That is why Jesus chose the image. Birth pains are not gentle, and they are not quiet, but they are not meaningless. They tell us that history is not spinning loose from God’s hand. It is moving toward His appointed conclusion.

And lately, the world feels like it is groaning.

A headline can inform us, but it cannot disciple us. A storm can interrupt our plans, but it cannot interpret itself. The believer must learn to bring the shaking world back under the steady Word of God. Otherwise, we may either dismiss every warning as coincidence or turn every disturbance into hysteria. Neither is faith. Faith listens, tests, watches, prays, and obeys.

We do not have to search far for reminders. Earthquakes rattle places that once felt settled. Volcanoes sleep for generations and then remind humanity that the ground was never ours to command. Hurricanes redraw familiar coastlines. Tornadoes touch down in places that thought themselves outside the usual path. Heat waves, floods, tsunamis, lightning, hail, and violent storms keep reminding us that creation is not a tame machine. It is a created order under strain, waiting for redemption.

It feels as though creation itself is raising its voice.

Paul said it plainly:

Creation Is Groaning

“For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.” Romans 8:22 (ESV)

Creation groans because something is wrong, and creation shakes because Someone is still speaking. Paul’s language in Romans is not poetic decoration. It is theology. The world is beautiful, but it is also burdened. It bears the marks of sin, decay, frustration, and longing. Every groan becomes a reminder that this present order is not final and that redemption must reach farther than human souls alone. God intends to renew all things.

What the Shaking Reveals

Hebrews gives that groaning another layer of meaning. When God spoke in the past, His voice shook the earth. Now Scripture points to a greater shaking — one that reaches beyond the ground beneath us and exposes what cannot last.

The shaking language in Hebrews reaches back to Mount Sinai, where the people trembled before the voice of God. The point was never that God enjoys frightening people. The point is that His voice exposes what is temporary and establishes what is eternal. When God shakes, He is not being careless with His people. He is separating what can pass away from what must remain.

“Once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.” Hebrews 12:26 (ESV)

And the writer explains why:

“This phrase ‘yet once more’ indicates the removal of things that can be shaken — in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain.” Hebrews 12:27 (ESV)

In other words, God is not shaking the world to destroy it. He is shaking the world to distinguish it.

He removes the temporary so the eternal can be seen. He exposes the fragile so the faithful can stand. The shaking is not meant to make believers frantic; it is meant to make foundations visible.

The Foundation That Remains

As the storms intensify, as disasters multiply, and as the world trembles under the weight of its own instability, people are discovering that many things they trusted were never as solid as they seemed. Wealth can vanish. Institutions can crumble. Leaders can fall. Nations can shake. Systems can fail. That is not a reason for the believer to gloat over the world’s insecurity. It is a reason to offer a better foundation. The Rock remains, and His name is Christ.

“He only is my rock and my salvation; He is my defense; I shall not be moved.” Psalm 62:6 (NKJV)

The question beneath the shaking is deeply personal: What are our lives really built on? If our peace depends on stable markets, predictable weather, friendly politics, personal comfort, or the approval of people, then every tremor will feel like the end. But if Christ is our foundation, the shaking can clarify rather than consume us.

Jesus said that when these things begin to happen, we should not panic — we should look up.

“Now when these things begin to take place, straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Luke 21:28 (ESV)

The shaking is not abandonment. It is approach. It is not permission to panic. It is an invitation to awaken. God is still near enough to speak, merciful enough to warn, and patient enough to call people home.

The Church’s Witness in an Unstable World

And as the world grows more unstable, the need for something unshakable grows more urgent. People are searching for refuge, for rest, for truth, for hope, for something real — something that does not collapse when the earth groans.

That refuge is Christ.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way.” Psalm 46:1–2 (ESV)

So when the storms rage, when the ground trembles, when the sky darkens, when the news cycle screams, and when the world shakes, perhaps God is knocking. Perhaps He is calling His people to stand firm without becoming hard, to shine brightly without becoming loud, to speak boldly without becoming careless, and to live faithfully without retreating into fear. The church must offer the world more than commentary. It must offer witness.

Because the world does not need another echo of the news cycle. It needs a living witness to the One who does not move.

Those who wait upon the Lord will not be shaken loose from His hand. They will rise. They will run. They will endure. They will soar.

“But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles.” Isaiah 40:31 (ESV)

Along for the journey.

Parchment reading “He who has an ear, let him hear. Revelation 2:7.”

HE WHO HAS AN EAR, LET HIM HEAR

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
Parchment reading “He who has an ear, let him hear. Revelation 2:7.”

Opening Meditation

There has never been a shortage of voices in the world. From the prophets of Baal to the pundits of YouTube, the air has always been thick with people saying, “This is the way, walk in it.” Yet Scripture does not commend the crowd, the trend, or the loudest voice. It does not say, “Blessed are the churches that have ears.” It says, very pointedly and very personally:

“He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” (Revelation 2:7)

This is not corporate language; it is individual. Singular. Aimed at the one person in the middle of the noise whose heart is still tender enough to hear. Jesus does not assign discernment to the crowd, the denomination, the institution, or the majority. He places it squarely on the individual who is willing to listen.

The Spirit speaks to the churches.
But only the one who has an ear will hear.

The Age of Many Voices

We live in a time when multitudes are not lacking for voices. There are false shepherds, false apostles, false prophets, false experts, and false influencers on every corner, each one claiming some version of “Thus says the Lord,” or “Trust the science,” or “Follow the data,” or “Listen to me.”

Jesus warned that “many false prophets will arise and deceive many.” (Matthew 24:11)
Paul warned that “false apostles, deceitful workers, transform themselves into apostles of Christ.” (2 Corinthians 11:13)
Jeremiah and Ezekiel warned about prophets who follow their own spirit and have seen nothing.

The common thread is not the absence of voices — it is the absence of discernment.

The danger is not that no one is speaking.
The danger is that almost everyone is speaking, and very few are listening to the right voice.

The Broad Way of the Multitudes

The multitudes have always been drawn to the wrong voices, a reality Jesus highlighted when He said, “Broad is the way that leads to destruction, and many go in that way… but narrow is the way that leads to life, and few there be that find it.” (Matthew 7:13–14)

The broad way is not simply about obvious sin; rather, it represents the path of least resistance, where people follow unexamined assumptions and conform to the majority without question. It is a path marked by trusting the loudest voices instead of the gentle guidance of the Shepherd. In contrast, the narrow way is seldom crowded or popular, and it certainly does not cater to the trends of social algorithms. This way calls for a deliberate pause—a time to stop, pray, listen intently, and wait patiently until the Spirit grants peace and direction.

A Modern Illustration of the Narrow Way

During the COVID era, without pretending to be physicians or making medical claims, we can still acknowledge the spiritual reality that unfolded.

Multitudes were swept into fear, confusion, and division.
Multitudes obeyed whatever voice was loudest — political, scientific, or religious.
Multitudes trusted human authority without pausing to seek the Lord.

Meanwhile, a much smaller number quietly went to prayer, did not deny sickness or the need for wisdom, but they refused to let fear shepherd their decisions, instead they listened for the whisper instead of the shout.
They sought the Lord for personal guidance and walked according to conscience rather than panic.

That is what it looks like when “few there be that find it” plays out in real time.

The Remnant Has Always Been Small

Throughout the pages of Scripture, we see a consistent pattern: the faithful remnant has always been a small, steadfast group standing firm against the tide of the majority. Noah, for example, was a lone beacon of righteousness in a world overwhelmed by corruption and violence. While the masses ignored God’s warnings, Noah listened and obeyed, building the ark that would preserve life.

Abraham, too, was called to step away from the familiar and trust God’s promise, standing apart from a culture steeped in idolatry. His faith was a quiet but powerful testimony amid prevailing unbelief.

Moses led a relatively small group of Israelites out of Egypt, confronting the might of a great empire while the majority remained in bondage. Similarly, Gideon’s army was reduced to just 300 men, demonstrating that victory comes not from numbers but from God’s power.

The prophet Elijah stood alone against 450 prophets of Baal, boldly calling Israel back to the true God. Daniel and his friends refused to bow to foreign idols, maintaining their faith in a hostile land despite the threat of death.

After Christ’s resurrection, the apostles faced opposition from religious authorities and a skeptical majority, yet they remained unwavering in their mission to proclaim the gospel.

These examples remind us that the remnant is not defined by size but by faithfulness. They listen for the gentle whisper of the Spirit, stand firm in obedience, and remain committed to the truth even when it means standing alone. Their small number only highlights the preciousness of those who truly hear and respond to the Shepherd’s voice.

The Sleepiness of the Modern Church

In many places today, the modern church no longer reflects the intimate and fervent spirit that marked the original one hundred twenty disciples. Instead, it often resembles the crowd that gathered merely for the loaves and fishes—drawn more by spectacle than by a genuine hunger for God. Despite the abundance of noise, activity, programming, music, and content, and the countless sermons, conferences, podcasts, and worship sets, something vital is missing. In too many gatherings, the deep, heartfelt response to God’s presence is rare. There is little weeping between the porch and the altar, little trembling at the power of the Word, and a noticeable absence of holy fear, brokenness, and true repentance. Though the services may be lively and the meetings well-attended, many hearts remain asleep, and the altars stand empty, longing for genuine encounter and transformation.

The Lost Art of Recognizing the Shepherd’s Voice

Many believers do not know the voice of the Good Shepherd.

They know the voice of their denomination, their favorite preacher, their catechism, their social feed, their political tribe, and their preferred influencer.
They can quote their favorite teacher more easily than they can quote Jesus.
They can recognize the tone of their favorite podcast more quickly than the nudge of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus said:

“My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.” (John 10:27)
“A stranger they will not follow, but will flee from him.” (John 10:5)

Yet today, many flee from the Shepherd and follow the stranger simply because they have never learned to distinguish His voice from all the others.

The Dividing Line of Revelation

This is why the phrase “He who has an ear, let him hear” is so critical.

It is not poetic nor decorative it is a dividing line.

The Spirit is speaking to the churches.
He is not silent, He has not retired, and He has not ceased leading and guiding His sheep, and the Holy Spirit has not stopped teaching all that Jesus taught.

But He is not shouting over the noise of the multitudes.
He is speaking to those who have ears — the remnant — the ones willing to stop, listen, test the spirits, weigh the voices, and refuse to follow any voice that does not sound like the Shepherd.

The Closing Door and the Call to Listen

The door of the ark remains open, but it will not stay open indefinitely. The valley of decision is filled with countless souls, and ultimately, the Lord alone will determine their fate. Until that time comes, the call continues to echo through the ages:

He who has an ear, let him hear.

This call is not directed to those who possess a platform, a large following, or a microphone. Rather, it is for the one who truly has an ear—the person willing to listen deeply, to accept correction, to be led by the Spirit, and to stand apart from the crowd. It is an invitation to embrace a path that may be different and challenging, but one that leads to life and truth.

A Final Word to the Reader

If you find yourself restless in the noise, uneasy with the multitudes, and drawn to the quiet place where the Shepherd speaks, take that seriously.

That restlessness may be the Spirit tugging at your ear.
That unease may be the warning that the broad way is not for you.
That pull toward the secret place may be the invitation to join the remnant who still hear.

In a world overflowing with voices, the greatest gift you can ask for is not a louder microphone — but a sharper ear.

He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches.

DAMNABLE HERESIES & THE LEAVEN OF THE PHARISEES

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
A Modern Exposé of an Ancient Plague

Introduction: When Leaven Masquerades as Doctrine

There is a reason Scripture warns us repeatedly about leaven. Leaven is subtle. It works quietly, invisibly, and inevitably until the entire loaf is swollen with mixture. Paul warned, “A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.” (Galatians 5:9) Jesus warned His disciples, “Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees.” (Matthew 16:6) Peter warned of “damnable heresies” secretly introduced among the people. (2 Peter 2:1) These warnings were not aimed at pagans or outsiders. They were aimed at religious contamination — the kind that looks holy, sounds authoritative, and feels familiar, yet carries the poison of human influence.

The tragedy of modern Christianity is that we have inherited a system built on commentary, tradition, denominational identity, and seminary interpretation, all presented as “sound doctrine.” But Jude’s command to “earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints” (Jude 1:3) refers to the apostolic gospel, not the inherited systems we now defend. The faith once delivered came long before King Jimmy, long before English translations, long before catechisms, councils, and confessions. And yet generation after generation has swallowed these systems whole, regurgitated them, added to them, and passed them down until the loaf is no longer unleavened truth but a mixture of Scripture and human additives.

The Shepherd’s Voice vs. the Voice of Men

Jesus made a statement that should have shaped the entire structure of the church: “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.” (John 10:27) He also said, “A stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him: for they know not the voice of strangers.” (John 10:5) But modern Christianity replaced the Shepherd’s voice with the pastor’s voice. Believers were trained to sit in pews, listen passively, absorb whatever was preached, and call it illumination. In reality, it was indoctrination. They were never taught to discern. They were never taught to test the spirits. They were never taught to hear God for themselves.

And when you cannot hear the Shepherd, you will follow anyone who sounds religious, educated, or authoritative. This is how false shepherds gain influence. This is how Pharisee leaven spreads. This is how damnable heresies take root.

False Shepherds and Religious Noise

The Pharisees knew Scripture inside and out. They memorized it, categorized it, analyzed it, and expounded it until the people were exhausted. But Jesus said, “Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures, nor the power of God.” (Matthew 22:29) He also said, “This people draweth nigh unto Me with their mouth, and honoureth Me with their lips; but their heart is far from Me.” (Matthew 15:8) And then He delivered the indictment that defines religious leaven: “In vain they do worship Me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.” (Matthew 15:9)

Modern Pharisees do the same. They preach long sermons, quote Greek and Hebrew, wield seminary degrees, and elevate themselves as the final authority. Meanwhile, the people sit silently, never questioning, never discerning, never hearing God for themselves. This is not discipleship. It is religious conditioning. And conditioned people cannot recognize false shepherds because they have never learned to recognize the True Shepherd.

Man‑Made Doctrine Disguised as Sound Doctrine

Jude’s command to contend for the faith once delivered is a call to return to the apostolic gospel, not the inherited systems we now defend. Paul warned, “Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men… and not after Christ.” (Colossians 2:8) Jesus confronted the Pharisees with the same truth: “Ye have made the commandment of God of none effect by your tradition.” (Matthew 15:6)

When English translators inserted Easter — a word not found in the Greek — they imported Egypt into the bread. And once leaven enters, it spreads. If one word can be altered, what else was shaped by culture, politics, or tradition? The people defend their inherited doctrine fiercely, believing it is pure, never realizing it is leavened. They swallowed it whole, regurgitated it, added to it, and passed it down until the loaf became swollen with mixture.

The Feast of Unleavened Bread: A Spiritual Detox

The Feast of Unleavened Bread was not merely a memorial of Israel’s haste. It was a prophetic picture of purity — a call to remove mixture, eliminate additives, and eat the Word without contamination. God commanded Israel, “Seven days shall ye eat unleavened bread… there shall no leavened bread be seen with thee.” (Exodus 13:7) Paul echoed this when he wrote, “Purge out therefore the old leaven… therefore let us keep the feast… with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.” (1 Corinthians 5:7–8)

The modern church needs this feast. We need a season of purging mixture, rejecting man‑made doctrine, returning to Scripture without filters, and hearing the Shepherd’s voice without interference.

“You Have Heard It Said… But I Say Unto You”

Jesus confronted religious interpretation with a phrase that shattered Pharisee authority: “Ye have heard that it was said… but I say unto you.” (Matthew 5:21–22) He was not correcting sinners. He was correcting religious teachers. He was purging tradition, commentary, interpretation, and doctrinal scaffolding. He replaced the voice of men with the voice of God. The modern church needs this phrase again. Not “you have heard it said,” but “I say unto you.” Not the pastor’s voice. Not the seminary’s voice. Not the commentary’s voice. Not King Jimmy’s voice. The Shepherd’s voice.

Why Apostles and Prophets Were Removed

Paul wrote, “And God hath set some in the church, first apostles, secondarily prophets…” (1 Corinthians 12:28) He also said the church is “built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner stone.” (Ephesians 2:20) Apostles correct direction. Prophets expose corruption. Both threaten man‑made systems. Without apostles, the ship drifts. Without prophets, leaven spreads. Without both, pastors become the final authority, teachers become the doctrinal gatekeepers, and the Spirit’s voice is replaced by institutional control.

This was not accidental. It was strategic. The removal of apostles and prophets created a vacuum that pastors and teachers were never meant to fill. And once they became the final authority, the church drifted into Egypt.

Why the Gifts of the Spirit Were Silenced

Paul commanded believers, “Follow after charity, and desire spiritual gifts, but rather that ye may prophesy.” (1 Corinthians 14:1) He explained, “He that prophesieth speaketh unto men to edification, and exhortation, and comfort.” (1 Corinthians 14:3) And he warned, “Quench not the Spirit. Despise not prophesyings.” (1 Thessalonians 5:19–20)

Prophecy is the anti‑leaven gift. It reveals false teaching, false authority, and false tradition. It bypasses human control and restores the Shepherd’s voice. So the system had to silence it. Tongues were dismissed. Interpretation was ignored. Discernment was discouraged. Prophecy was forbidden. Apostolic authority was replaced with pastoral hierarchy. Because if the gifts operated freely, the entire structure of leaven would collapse.

The People Wanted It This Way

Paul warned Timothy, “The time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears.” (2 Timothy 4:3) Isaiah described the same spirit: “Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things.” (Isaiah 30:10) People prefer predictability, routine, tradition, comfort, and control. They prefer a pastor who thinks for them, interprets for them, decides for them, and filters truth for them. They prefer indoctrination over revelation. They prefer the public‑school model of Christianity — sit, listen, absorb, conform.

But Jesus said, “My sheep hear My voice.” (John 10:27) Not the pastor’s voice. Not the commentary’s voice. Not the catechism’s voice. Not the seminary’s voice. His voice.

Conclusion: Returning to Unleavened Christianity

The Spirit is calling His people back to the simplicity of Christ — back to the Shepherd’s voice, back to Scripture without additives, back to truth without mixture, back to the faith once delivered, back to the feast of unleavened bread. Jesus said, “If any man will hear My voice…” (Revelation 3:20) And again, “He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches.” (Revelation 2:7)

This teaching is not an attack on pastors. It is an attack on leaven. It is not a rejection of Scripture. It is a rejection of contamination. It is not rebellion against authority. It is obedience to the Shepherd. It is not a critique of the church. It is a call to purification.

The Spirit is saying, “Purge the leaven. Return to the Shepherd. Keep the feast. Hear My voice.” And those who hear Him will obey no other.


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