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FAITH HALL OF FAME

Allen Frederick Leave a comment 

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get it." — 1 Corinthians 9:24
Allen Frederick

It’s awards season again. It’s that time of year. Red carpets unfurl like modern-day scrolls of glory. The world pauses to crown its chosen ones. Grammys, Emmys, Doves, Nobels, AMAs, Bestseller lists, viral clicks, and algorithmic applause—each a golden carrot dangling before the hungry soul. The pursuit of recognition has become a full-time religion, and the altar is crowded.

But there’s another ceremony underway. Quieter. Older. Eternal. It’s not televised, but it’s recorded. Not in HD, but in heaven. Hebrews 11 calls it the Faith Hall of Fame. No tuxedos. No acceptance speeches. Just a roll call of the faithful—many unnamed, most uncelebrated, all remembered by God.

Hebrews 11 honors God’s award winners—the Hall of Faith. It names giants of faith who endured by trusting God’s promises despite unseen trials and worldly scorn. Here are some of those honored by God:

  • By faith Abel offered a better sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts. Though he died, he still speaks.
  • By faith Enoch was taken up so that he did not see death, “for before he was taken he was commended as having pleased God.”
  • By faith Noah, being warned by God about things not yet seen, in reverence prepared an ark to save his household.
  • By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place he would later receive as an inheritance.
  • By faith Sarah received power to conceive, even when she was past age, because she considered Him faithful who had promised.
  • By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau concerning things to come.
  • By faith Jacob, when dying, blessed each of Joseph’s sons and worshiped, leaning on his staff.
  • By faith Joseph, at the end of his life, spoke about the exodus of the Israelites and gave instructions concerning his bones.
  • By faith Moses, when he was born, was hidden by his parents for three months because they saw he was no ordinary child.
  • By faith Moses, when grown, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing to suffer with God’s people rather than enjoy sin’s fleeting pleasures.
  • By faith the Israelites passed through the Red Sea as on dry land, but the Egyptians who pursued them were drowned.
  • By faith the walls of Jericho fell after the Israelites marched around them for seven days.
  • By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish with those who were disobedient because she welcomed the spies in peace.

These are the ones God honors, not for fame or fortune, but for faithfulness and obedience. Their lives stand in stark contrast to the fleeting applause of the world, reminding us that God’s commendation is the true prize.

Paul sharpened the metaphor: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get it… They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.” (1 Corinthians 9:24–25)

They wandered, suffered, obeyed, endured. No medals. No statues. No trending hashtags. Yet they are listed in the Lamb’s Book of Life. Heaven’s registry of those who chose the praise of God over the praise of man.

The Question of True Value

So we must ask: what do we value most?

Is it the fleeting ovation of man or the eternal commendation of God?

The applause of man is loud but short-lived. It fades with the next scandal, the next trend, the next algorithm tweak. It’s a currency that devalues quickly. One moment you’re the darling of the crowd, the next you’re a cautionary tale.

But the praise of God? It’s quiet, often unnoticed, but it echoes forever. It’s the “Well done” whispered by the Creator to the faithful servant. It’s the reward that moth and rust cannot corrupt, that no critic can revoke.

Jesus warned: “How can you believe when you receive glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?” (John 5:44). He knew the gravitational pull of human praise. He felt the temptation to perform for the crowd. But He chose obedience over optics. Truth over trend.

In a world obsessed with being seen, the faithful are called to be hidden. In a culture addicted to applause, we are summoned to endure silence. In an age of curated personas, we are invited to authenticity.

The Lamb’s Hall of Fame is not for the popular—it’s for the obedient.

Yet, we cannot ignore that excellence is required to gain a trophy. But lately, many trophies have lost their sheen, resembling more participation awards than honors of true merit. Anyone can get TikTok likes with the right gimmick, but there is only one way to gain the crown of life.

This is clearly taught in passages James 1:12, which says, “Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.” It is not earned by worldly acclaim or fleeting achievements but by a steadfast, obedient faith that endures to the end.”

So run your race. Not for applause, but for allegiance. Not for likes, but for love. Not for fame, but for faith.

Because the only Hall of Fame that matters is the one built by nail-scarred hands.

Running the Race That Wins the Crown

Let us therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,

looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

Rebranding Revival into Idolatry

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

Why Worship at the Feet of a Fallen Man When We Can Worship at the Feet of a Risen Lord?

In the weeks since Charlie Kirk’s assassination, the nation has seen a surge of energy. News reports describe stadiums filled with mourners who have become activists. “FREEDOM” tee-shirts are flying off shelves. Turning Point tattoos are being etched into skin. The movement is swelling with momentum. Some hail it as revival. Others see it as a political awakening.

But momentum is not the same as revival. And history—biblical history—warns us that what begins as a move of God can sour into a monument to man.

Gideon in the Winepress

When we first meet Gideon in Judges 6, he is threshing wheat in a winepress, hiding from Midianite raiders. Hardly a revolutionary. Yet God calls him “mighty warrior” and raises him up to deliver Israel.

But God made it clear: the victory would not belong to Gideon. He whittled Gideon’s army down to 300 men so that no one could boast, “My own hand has saved me” (Judges 7:2). The triumph over Midian was not Gideon’s brilliance, not the zeal of his men, but the power of God alone.

Charlie Kirk, in many ways, became a Gideon figure for this generation. He had unassuming beginnings and a small band of devoted followers. He achieved a victory that seemed impossible against the tide of cultural opposition. His courage inspired many. But just as in Gideon’s day, the danger comes after the battle.

Rebranding Revival into Idolatry

After his victory, Gideon asked for gold from the spoils of war and “made an ephod of it and put it in his city, in Ophrah. And all Israel prostituted themselves by worshiping it there, and it became a snare to Gideon and his family” (Judges 8:27).

Here’s the problem:

  • The ephod was a sacred priestly garment, commanded by God in Exodus 28 to be worn only by the high priest of Levi.
  • It bore the names of Israel’s tribes and was used with the Urim and Thummim to discern God’s will (Exodus 28:29–30).
  • Gideon was not a priest. He was from Manasseh (Judges 6:15). He had no authority to assume priestly garments.

By making an ephod, Gideon stepped outside his calling. And the people, instead of objecting, embraced it. They shifted their devotion from the God who delivered them to the symbol of victory. The ephod became a counterfeit center of worship.

And here is where the prophetic punch lands: Why worship at the feet of a fallen man when you can worship at the feet of a risen Lord?

Gold: Glory Turned to Graven

Gold was used to overlay the Ark of the Covenant, to adorn the tabernacle, and to craft the priestly garments. It symbolized God’s holiness and majesty. But when taken out of context—when melted down and molded by human hands—it became the golden calf (Exodus 32), a grotesque parody of divine worship.

Gideon’s ephod, fashioned from gold taken as spoils, echoes that same drift. What began as a symbol of victory became a snare. The people bowed not to God, but to the glitter of conquest.

Even Judas, in the shadow of the cross, traded the Son of God for thirty pieces of silver—precious metal once again used to betray glory.

Gold, when untethered from reverence, becomes the metal of misdirection.

Our Modern Ephods

Today, the parallels are sobering. Tee‑shirts, tattoos, slogans, and symbols are rising as rallying points. They are not evil in themselves. But they risk becoming ephods—objects of misplaced devotion that subtly shift the focus from the risen Christ to a fallen man, from the Deliverer to the movement.

The drift begins when no one raises the alarm. When the church accepts the symbol without questioning whether it has replaced the Savior. When we rally around the banner instead of the cross.

The Call Back to the Cross

Scripture is clear:

  • “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (John 12:32).
  • “There is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).
  • “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30).

It wasn’t Gideon. It wasn’t the 300. It wasn’t the ephod.
It was God.

And so it must be with us. Organizing for better government is not wrong. Honoring courage is not wrong. But rallying around a name other than Jesus Christ is always wrong.

Final Word

The ephod warns us: symbols can become snares.
The cross reminds us: salvation is not in the symbol but in the Savior.

So let us ditch the ephods of our age and cling to the risen Lord. For it was never Gideon, never Charlie, never Turning Point—it was, and always will be, God.


Why worship at the feet of a fallen man when you can worship at the feet of a risen Lord?

This has been “A VIEW FROM THE NEST.” And that is the way I see it. What say you?

Ministry vs. Marketplace: A Christian Artist’s Dilemma

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

When Christian artist Forrest Frank announced he would no longer attend award shows, although being nominated for seven Dove Awards. He struck a nerve. His reasoning was simple: “I will not receive a trophy for something that is from Jesus and for Jesus. I already have the greatest award, my name written in the Book of Life.”

The post went viral, drawing both applause and critique. Some hailed it as a prophetic refusal to let the industry define worth. Others saw inconsistency: Frank still profits from concerts, streams, and $100 “Child of God” hoodies. Country star Jelly Roll quipped that if trophies are too worldly, why not apply the same logic to merchandise? Kings Kaleidoscope added a practical note: if you don’t want awards, don’t publish your music.

This debate is bigger than one artist. It exposes the uneasy marriage between ministry and marketplace.

Applause vs. Awards

Applause at a concert is spontaneous, relational, and fleeting. An award is institutional, formalized, and enduring. Both are forms of recognition, but one feels like shared worship while the other risks becoming a coronation. Frank is drawing his line at the latter.

The Workman and His Wages

Paul made tents. Peter fished. Farmers farmed. Carpenters built. Each earned a living from their craft. Paul even insisted, “The laborer is worthy of his wages.”

So why do we expect ministers and musicians to work for free? Why do we honor the baker for selling bread but shame the evangelist for selling books or shirts? As one who once sold Christian T-shirts to fund ministry, I know firsthand: people gave willingly, not under compulsion. Love offerings maybe light on offering but heavy on love; merchandise often carried the ministry further.

The Real Issue: Posture, Not Profit

The problem is not applause, awards, or income. The problem is when:

  • Applause becomes the aim instead of the overflow.
  • Awards become the altar instead of a testimony.
  • Income becomes the idol instead of provision.

Frank’s refusal of trophies is his way of guarding posture. Others draw the line differently. Romans 14 reminds us: “Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.”

In Conclusion

The question isn’t whether Christian artists should profit or accept recognition. The question is:

  • Does my labor point people to Christ or to me?
  • Does my livelihood serve the gospel or overshadow it?
  • Does my recognition become a crown I wear—or one I cast at His feet?

Forrest Frank’s stand is not everyone’s stand. But it forces us to face a deeper tension. We must figure out how to live, work, and create in a world where ministry and marketplace collide.

Trophies tarnish. Applause fades. Hoodies wear out. But the crown of life endures. And that’s the only award worth fighting for.

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

SPIRITUAL CATARACTS: When Our Vision Gets Cloudy

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

As a professional driver with over 3 million incident-free miles, I’ve encountered my share of heavy fog—and other driving hazards. There’s something uniquely disorienting about fog: the way it swallows landmarks, blurs headlights, and forces you to slow down and trust your instincts. You grip the wheel tighter, strain to see what’s ahead, and pray for clarity.

In many ways, spiritual fog is just as disorienting. Cataracts form when the lens of the eye becomes clouded, scattering light and distorting clarity. In the natural, it’s a slow fade—vision dims, colors dull, and the world grows hazy. But in the Spirit, cataracts form when our gaze shifts from Christ to self, from Kingdom to culture, from eternal to temporal.

Jesus speaks directly to this in Revelation 3:18:

“I counsel you to buy from Me… salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see.”

This isn’t earthly ointment—it’s divine clarity. It’s the Spirit’s touch that restores our ability to see rightly: to discern truth, to perceive eternity, to recognize our condition. Without this salve, we walk in spiritual blindness—thinking we see, but missing the Kingdom entirely.

👁 What Causes Spiritual Blindness?

  • Comparison with ourselves Paul warns in 2 Corinthians 10:12: “When they measure themselves by themselves and compare themselves with themselves, they are not wise.” This is the cataract of self-reference. We become our own standard, our own mirror, our own measure. Instead of gazing upon Christ—the Author and Perfecter of our faith—we stare at our own reflection, adjusting our righteousness by how we feel or how we perform. The result? Dimmed discernment. Blurred conviction. Lost awe.

→ See also Hebrews 12:2: “Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith…”

  • Fixation on worldly metrics Likes, followers, influence, income, applause—these are the fog machines of the soul. They scatter the light of truth and distort our spiritual depth. We begin to see ministry as platform, worship as performance, and prophecy as content. The lens gets cloudy.

→ See also 1 John 2:16: “For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world.”

→ See also Revelation 3:17: “You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.”

  • Neglect of intimacy When we stop beholding Christ, we lose clarity. Psalm 36:9 says, “In Your light we see light.” Without His presence, we grope in shadows. Spiritual cataracts form when we trade communion for consumption, devotion for distraction.

→ See also Isaiah 29:13: “These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me…”

🚦 God’s Fog Lights: The Salve of Christ

Jesus offers salve—not just to see others rightly, but to see Him clearly. This salve is like fog lights for the soul—cutting through confusion, piercing the haze, and illuminating the road ahead. Fog lights are designed to shine low and wide, revealing what’s immediately in front of you when everything else is obscured. They don’t eliminate the fog, but they help you move forward safely, confidently, and with purpose.

In the same way, the salve of Christ doesn’t always remove the fog of life—but it gives us clarity to navigate it. It helps us see what matters, avoid spiritual hazards, and stay aligned with the path of righteousness.

  • Revelation: Eyes opened to the beauty, holiness, and supremacy of Christ. Like fog lights revealing the road’s edges, revelation helps us see the boundaries of truth and the brilliance of Jesus. → See also Ephesians 1:18: “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you…”
  • Conviction: Seeing our true condition—not through shame, but through mercy. Fog lights expose what’s hidden—potholes, debris, or danger. Conviction reveals our spiritual condition so we can respond with repentance. → See also John 16:8: “When He comes, He will convict the world of guilt in regard to sin and righteousness and judgment.”
  • Discernment: Recognizing what is eternal, what is counterfeit, and what is Kingdom. Fog lights help us distinguish between safe paths and risky detours. Discernment helps us choose wisely in a world full of spiritual distractions. → See also Philippians 1:9-10: “And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best…”

This salve doesn’t come from effort—it comes from encounter. It’s bought through surrender, applied through repentance, and activated through worship.

Prophetic Exhortation If your vision has dimmed, don’t reach for self-help lenses. Ask for the salve. Let the Spirit anoint your eyes again. Stop comparing yourself with yourself. Fix your gaze on Jesus. Let Him become your lens, your light, your clarity.

So when the fog rolls in, grip the wheel of faith. Turn on the fog lights of revelation, conviction, and discernment. And drive forward—not by sight, but by light.

Nehemiah’s Cry, Stephen’s Fire, Charlie’s Marketplace Witness

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

A Prophetic Call to Rebuild What Religion Has Buried.

🧱 I. Nehemiah’s Cry: The Watchman Weeps Before He Builds

“When I heard these words, I sat down and wept, and mourned certain days, and fasted, and prayed before the God of heaven.” —Nehemiah 1:4

Nehemiah didn’t begin with blueprints—he began with brokenness. He wept for a city in ruins, a people scattered, and a testimony defiled. He didn’t blame Babylon. He confessed the sins of his fathers and his own house. This is the posture of the true reformer:

Eyes open to ruin

Heart pierced by grief

Hands ready to rebuild

“Let us rise up and build.” —Nehemiah 2:18

But not just walls. We must rebuild worship, witness, and the fear of the Lord.

🔥 II. Stephen’s Fire: The Prophet Rebukes the Temple System

“Ye stiffnecked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, ye do always resist the Holy Ghost…” —Acts 7:51 “The Most High dwelleth not in temples made with hands…” —Acts 7:48

Stephen stood before the Sanhedrin—not with diplomacy, but with divine indictment. He traced Israel’s history not to flatter, but to expose the pattern of rebellion. He named their addiction to temple worship, their rejection of the prophets, and their murder of the Just One.

They stopped their ears. They gnashed their teeth. They stoned him in public view.

But heaven stood.

“Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God.” —Acts 7:56

Stephen’s death scattered the church. But that scattering became sending. The gospel left the building and entered the world.

🌐 III. Charlie’s Marketplace Witness: The Tent That Provokes

Charlie Kirk didn’t preach behind stained glass. He preached in tents, on campuses, in hostile forums. He invited confrontation—not for ego, but for truth.

And like Stephen, he was silenced. Not just by pagans, but by those who had grown comfortable in their own temples. Those who had traded fire for form. Those who had stopped their ears to conviction.

Stephen confronted the religious elite who resisted the Holy Spirit, clung to temple tradition, and rejected the living presence of God. Charlie confronted the cultural elite who replaced public worship with institutional idolatry, fortified temples to Baal, and silenced truth in the name of tolerance. Both exposed the error of their generation. Both provoked the gatekeepers of power. Both bore witness to a gospel that cannot be confined.

And both shared the same Lord—the Just One whom religion crucified and whom heaven vindicated.

But his death stirred millions. Not to vengeance, but to clarity. Not to politics, but to purpose.

“Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.” —Mark 16:15

The marketplace is the new Mars Hill. The tent is the new temple. The witness is the new worship.

🗣️ IV. Mars Hill and the Mandate to Go

Saul stood by as Stephen was stoned—arms crossed, heart hardened, breathing threats. He was the enforcer of temple purity, the silencer of Spirit-led fire. But heaven had other plans.

On the road to Damascus, the stone-caster was struck blind by glory. The persecutor became the preacher. The man who stopped ears became the voice that pierced nations.

“How shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach, except they be sent?” —Romans 10:14–15

Paul was sent. Not to temples made with hands, but to Mars Hill. To the altar of the unknown god. To the philosophers, the skeptics, the seekers.

“Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.” —Acts 17:23

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t soften. He declared the resurrected Christ in the heart of pagan Athens.

Paul went from defending stone walls to building living temples—churches planted in hostile soil, letters written in prison, disciples forged in fire.

“Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” —1 Corinthians 3:16

🧭 V. How Then Shall We Live?

“And they that were scattered abroad went every where preaching the word.” —Acts 8:4 “Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together… but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.” —Hebrews 10:25

We must gather—yes. But not to fulfill obligation. Not to rehearse tradition. Not to preserve religion.

We must gather to provoke, to equip, to send forth.

Organized religion has failed. It clings to form while rejecting fire. It resists the Holy Spirit and the living presence of God. It gathers in cathedrals to check a box, not to fulfill the Great Commission. And as cities and towns drift further from God, the message of the Cross remains locked inside these whited sepulchers—beautiful on the outside, but void of life within.

We must scatter again. Not in fear, but in fire. Not in rebellion, but in obedience.

We must rebuild—not monuments, but movements. Not padded pews, but prophetic pulpits. Not mini temples, but mobile tents of truth.

🧱 VII. Why Were the Walls Broken?

“Because ye have forsaken the Lord, he hath also forsaken you.” —2 Chronicles 24:20

The walls of Jerusalem didn’t fall by accident. They were breached because covenant was broken. God’s people abandoned His ways, worshiped idols, and silenced His prophets.

They fell into spiritual seduction—chasing Baal, blending with pagan cultures, trusting in alliances and rituals instead of repentance and righteousness. They honored God with lips but not with hearts. They kept temple routines but rejected the living God.

So judgment came. Babylon invaded. The temple was burned. The city was emptied. The people were exiled.

“This whole land shall be a desolation… and these nations shall serve the king of Babylon seventy years.” —Jeremiah 25:11

Seventy years of captivity. Not just political punishment—but spiritual discipline. God used Babylon to purge idolatry, provoke repentance, and prepare a remnant.

Jerusalem lay in ruins. No active testimony of God remained in the land. The stones of the walls they thought would protect them became a testimony against them. Why? Because seventy years prior, they stopped their ears to the Lord’s ways.

And when we trace back seventy years in our own nation’s history, we arrive at a moment when the worship of God was outlawed in the public square and replaced with the worship of Baal. Temples to Baal were fortified in every city and state—taking the form of institutes of education, filled not with truth but with false prophets of Baal. The testimony of God was buried beneath policy, philosophy, and pride.

Nehemiah’s cry came after the sentence was served. His burden was born from history’s warning: If we bury the Word, we will be buried by the world.

🩸 VIII. Final Charge: Rebuild the Wall, Restore the Witness

Nehemiah wept. Stephen burned. Charlie provoked. Paul preached.

Now it’s our turn.

Let the watchmen rise. Let Mars Hill be filled. Let the hardest hearts melt before an awesome God.

Because when one falls, thousands must arise. And when one is sent, the silence is broken.

🙏 Prayer

Lord of the broken wall and the burning heart, we come not with polished plans but with pierced spirits. We confess our comfort, our compromise, our silence. We ask for the fire of Stephen, the clarity of Charlie, the boldness of Paul, and the tears of Nehemiah. Send us into the marketplace, the campus, the tent, the prison, the pulpit. Let our witness provoke, our worship restore, and our walk reflect Your glory. Rebuild what religion has buried. Revive what tradition has tamed. And reign where man-made temples have failed. In Jesus’ name, amen.

📸 Benediction

May the God who scattered the church to save the world scatter you with purpose. May the Spirit who stood with Stephen stand with you in every confrontation. May the fire that fell on the apostles fall again on your tent, your table, your testimony. Go now—not to perform, but to provoke. Not to consume, but to commission. Not to build walls, but to raise altars.

In the name of the Father who sends, the Son who saves, and the Spirit who speaks— Amen.