Watchman Report: Live from the Court of Public Spectacle


Allen Frederick

Filed by: The Watchman

Last Saturday, cities across the nation echoed with the resolute voices of thousands gathered at the “No Kings” rallies. These protests, fueled by a deep dissatisfaction with the current government, marked a pivotal moment of public outcry and spiritual unrest. As the crowds marched and chanted, the air was thick with tension and anticipation, setting the stage for a drama that transcends politics and touches the very heart of our cultural and spiritual identity. Tonight, we begin our report by looking back at these rallies and the powerful message they sent across the land. This whole scene is reminiscent of a similar scene that took place more than 2000 years ago. The similarities are striking! Let’s take a trip down memory lane.

REPORTING LIVE FROM THE NO KINGS RALLY

Good evening, listeners. This is your anchor coming to you live with a special report unfolding at the crossroads of faith and culture. Tonight, we witness a drama as old as time itself—the Passion, replayed not on a distant stage, but in the very streets and courts of our world today. The crowd is restless, voices rise in fervor, and the stakes could not be higher. Stay tuned as we bring you the unfolding story, the key players, and the truth that refuses to be silenced.


Opening Broadcast

This is the Watchman, reporting live from the arena of ideological warfare.
The crowd is surging. The chants are coordinated. The signs are sharp.
But beneath the slogans and spectacle, the ancient drama unfolds again.

The Passion is replaying—not in Jerusalem, but in every city square.
The players are familiar. The tactics unchanged.
The target? Still Truth.
The verdict? Still pending.


First Quarter: The Stirring of the Crowd

The governing authorities have taken the field—not to calm, but to agitate.
They’ve deployed their playbook:

  • Stir unrest
  • Isolate the righteous
  • Judge-shop for friendly venues

The crowd responds on cue.
Chants erupt like drumlines:

“No kings!”
“Give us Barabbas!”
“Crucify conviction!”

The volume is deafening.
But the loudest voice doesn’t get the last word.


Second Quarter: The Royal Court of Righteousness Takes the Stand

Each ideological mascot steps forward, cloaked in moral certainty:

  • The Advocate of Accommodation demands tolerance—on his terms.
    He’s not here to listen. He’s here to legislate your repentance.
  • The Priest of Preference rejects divine order.
    He quotes Caesar, not Scripture.
    His altar is built on feelings, not truth.
  • The Protest Scribe unfurls his scroll.
    It’s long. It’s loud. It’s lawless.
    He wants justice—but only for his tribe.
  • The Judge of Identity declares, “I am who I say I am.”
    But Truth replies, “I Am who I Am—and you are not Me.”
  • The Herald of Hurt limps forward.
    Her wounds are real—but her weapon is resentment.
    She demands healing without surrender.

Halftime: The Judges Wash Their Hands

Just like Pilate, today’s judges are shopping for friendly courts.
They want rulings that affirm the crowd, not the Constitution.
They misapply the law to preserve their own peace.
They fear the mob more than they fear God.

“Shall I crucify your King?”
“We have no king but Caesar.”


Third Quarter: The Spectacle Builds

The crowd grows louder.
The costumes more theatrical.
The media amplifies the illusion of strength.

But the Watchman sees:

  • The spectacle is smoke.
  • The unity is Babel.
  • The power is borrowed.

They chant for chaos over peace.
They crown comfort over conviction.
They crucify Truth—and call it progress.


Fourth Quarter: The Rising

They think they’ve won.
They think the tomb is sealed.
They think the Lamb is silenced.

But Truth is not dead.
Truth is not buried.
Truth is rising.

“He was oppressed and afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth.” — Isaiah 53:7
“You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” — John 8:32
“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil.” — Isaiah 5:20


Final Call from the Booth

This is the Watchman, signing off.
Crowds chant.
Judges fold.
Scribes scribble.

But the Lamb still reigns!
And the final whistle belongs to Him.

“You have judged the Son of Man by your standards.
But He will judge you by His.”

FAITH HALL OF FAME


"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

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


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


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


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.