Tag discipleship

Who’s Guarding the Tomb of Jesus?

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
A Call for the Church to Return to the Living Christ

The Borrowed Tomb and the Fear Surrounding It

“And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and laid it in his own new tomb which he had hewn out of the rock; and he rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb, and departed.” Matthew 27:59–60

Jesus was laid in a borrowed tomb cut from stone — a place meant for the dead, not for the Lord of life. Wrapped in linen and sealed behind a stone, He appeared to be at the end of the story, yet fear still lingered around Him. Herod feared His influence, the chief priests feared His promise, and Rome feared His followers. So they posted guards, sealed the tomb, and tried to contain the One who had already said, “I will rise again.”

They feared His body might be stolen and His resurrection proclaimed. They feared a rumor, a movement, a miracle. But no fear, stone, soldier, or seal could hold the risen Lord. Death could not keep Him. The grave could not restrain Him. The tomb could not silence Him. He walked out of the place they tried to secure.

Yet today, the church often attempts what Rome could not do.

We carve out our own “tombs” — leather-bound, gold-leafed, printed, indexed, and wrapped in doctrinal linen — and call them the canon. We treat Scripture not as a witness to the Living Word, but as His container. We wrap Jesus in pages and call it reverence. We seal Him behind interpretations and call it orthodoxy. We post guards named Tradition, Control, Suspicion, and Fear, insisting that God speaks only in the past tense.

Still, the angels’ words continue to answer every attempt to confine the living Christ:
“Why seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen.” Luke 24:5–6

The Danger of a Past-Tense Christ

Jesus warned the Pharisees in words that still speak to every generation:

“You search the Scriptures, for in them you think you have eternal life; and these are they which testify of Me. But you are not willing to come to Me that you may have life.” John 5:39–40

They studied the text but missed the Person. They honored the words while ignoring the voice. They revered the scroll but rejected the Savior. The modern church repeats that error whenever it says, “We know God only by what He has said,” as though the risen Christ stopped speaking when the apostles died.

Yet Jesus promised the continuing ministry of the Spirit:

“When He, the Spirit of truth, has come, He will guide you into all truth… He will speak… He will declare to you the things that are to come.” John 16:13

The Spirit has not retired, the Shepherd has not gone silent, and the Head of the Church has not stepped aside.

The living Christ still leads, speaks, knocks, and calls His people into fellowship with Him.

Sewing the Veil Back Together

When Jesus died, the temple veil was torn from top to bottom — not by human effort, but by God Himself.

“And behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.” Matthew 27:51

The torn veil declared one thing: access. Through Christ alone, the Father opened unrestricted, unmediated, unguarded access to Himself.

But religion often tries to sew the veil back together. The Pharisees did it by laying unbearable burdens on others:

“You travel land and sea to win one convert, and when he is won, you make him twice as much a son of hell as yourselves.” Matthew 23:15

They wrapped God in rules, rituals, and requirements; they wrapped people in expectations, traditions, and fear; and they wrapped truth in layers of human authority.

Today, we can wrap Jesus in the burial cloths of catechisms, doctrinal statements, theological systems, Reformation language, dissertations, and denominational fences. We stitch the veil with academic thread and call it faithfulness, placing barriers between God and His people that neither we nor our ancestors could bear.

But the Gospel remains simple:
Jesus died for our sins. Jesus rose from the dead. Jesus alone opens the way into the Holy of Holies.

The way into God’s presence does not rest on catechisms, confessions, doctrinal precision, theological pedigree, denominational loyalty, or intellectual mastery of Scripture.

Jesus Himself is the way, the truth, and the life. John 14:6

Not merely the Bible about Him — but Christ within us.

Christ in Us — Not Christ Confined to the Pages

Paul did not say, “Christ in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John is the hope of glory.”
He said:

“Christ in you, the hope of glory.” Colossians 1:27

Reading about Jesus is not the same as walking with Him, studying His life is not the same as hearing His voice, and knowing His teachings is not the same as knowing His presence.

The Gospel was never meant to remain a museum exhibit; it was meant to become a living encounter with the risen Christ.

The Closed Door of the Church

One of Revelation’s most sobering images is not a rebellious world, but a closed church:

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” Revelation 3:20

Jesus is not knocking on the door of unbelievers; He is knocking on the door of believers. He is not outside the world in this image; He is outside the church that has shut Him out. He is not asking for a platform from which to be displayed; He is asking for a table where fellowship can be restored. He is not seeking a pulpit for performance; He is seeking communion with His people. He is not offering a lecture from a distance; He is offering the shared intimacy of a meal.

The risen Christ desires to tabernacle with His people — to dwell, dine, speak, guide, comfort, correct, and commune. Yet He will not force His way past the guards we place at the tomb, shout over our programs, or break through the stone of our fear; instead, He knocks, calls, and waits.

Return to Your First Love

The church at Ephesus had doctrine, discipline, endurance, and order. Still, Jesus said: “Nevertheless, I have this against you, that you have left your first love.” Revelation 2:4 Although they possessed many marks of religious faithfulness, they had lost the One who mattered most.

That is the danger of a tomb-guarding church: we can honor the Christ of history while neglecting the Christ who is present, defend the Word of God while resisting the voice of God, and preach the resurrection while living as though He remains sealed behind stone.

But the risen Lord calls us back — not to a memory, doctrine, or system, but to Himself. He calls us to open the door, welcome His presence, hear His voice, dine with Him, and return to our first love.

The Final Call: Stop Guarding the Tomb

The question is no longer, “Who guarded the tomb then?”
The question is, “Who is guarding it now?”

We must ask whether we are the ones keeping Jesus sealed behind tradition, wrapped in doctrinal linen, locked inside the pages, held outside the church door, and prevented from speaking, leading, interrupting, and reigning among us.

And perhaps the deeper question is this: Where did you bury Jesus? Have you buried Jesus beneath your fear, your theology, your suspicion of the Spirit, your comfort with silence, or your preference for control?

The risen Christ will not remain boxed, sealed, scheduled, or scripted; He walks into gatherings rather than graveyards, breathes on disciples rather than doctrines, knocks on doors rather than pulpits, and speaks to hearts, not only through pages.

And He is knocking now. The final word belongs to the risen Christ Himself: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.” Revelation 3:20



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

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WHO AMONG YOU?

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

A Call to Spiritual Fathers

Introduction: Let’s Start at the Very Beginning

Did you ever wonder why things are the way they are? Why fatherhood feels fractured, why families feel fragile, why churches feel unanchored, and why society feels unformed? The best way to understand anything is to start at the beginning.

When we read, we begin with ABC. When we learn music, we begin with Do Re Mi. And when we study the Word of God, we begin with “In the beginning, God…” Gen 1:1

God created man in His image. God gave man identity, authority, responsibility, and covering. God placed man in the garden to cultivate, guard, and lead.

But the first crisis in human history was not violence — it was abdication. Adam did not fall because he was deceived. He fell because he was silent. He surrendered leadership when he was called to stand. He submitted to the voice of the bride instead of the voice of the Bridegroom.

And that fracture — that abdication and resulting societal collapse— has echoed through every generation since.

It shows up in marriages where husbands withdraw, and wives carry burdens they were never meant to carry. It shows up in families where fathers are absent, passive, or overrun. It shows up in society where children are raised by systems instead of parents. And it shows up in the church, where spiritual fathers are scarce, formation is shallow, and believers remain unanchored.

The crisis of our age is not merely cultural — it is foundational. It began with Adam, and it continues wherever men abandon the role God entrusted to them.

A Day for Fathers, a Word for the Fatherless

Father’s Day is meant to honor strength, guidance, sacrifice, and legacy. Yet for many people—both inside the church and beyond it—the day also sharpens the ache of what was absent: protection that never came, counsel never given, and affirmation never spoken.

Scripture does not look away from that ache. It speaks directly into it, presenting God not as distant from human loss but as One who steps into it.

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.” [Psalm 68:5]

That promise comforts the wounded, but it also raises a searching question for the contemporary church. If God reveals Himself as Father to the fatherless, what does it mean when the household of faith itself begins to feel fatherless—rich in activity, perhaps, but poor in spiritual formation, moral courage, and generational care?

On a day dedicated to fathers, the deeper issue is not simply whether fathers should be celebrated, but whether the church is still capable of forming them—spiritually, morally, and relationally. The question before us is not sentimental. It is searching: Who among us fears the Lord? Who among us will stand in the breach? Who among us will do the slow, sacrificial work of becoming a fatherly presence in a generation formed more by neglect than by nurture?

When the Church Loses Formation, It Loses Its Compass

The New Testament never presents the church as a weekly gathering designed to maintain religious activity. It presents the church as a household, a family, a body, and a temple — something living, growing, maturing, and being built with intentionality and order. Paul writes that the church is “built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief cornerstone.” (Ephesians 2:20) This is not poetic language; it is architectural reality. Foundations determine everything that stands upon them.

Apostles and prophets were not ornamental titles; they were foundational roles. Apostles laid the groundwork, established doctrine, set expectations, and taught spiritual children how to grow into spiritual adults. Prophets saw the fractures, discerned the drift, confronted the compromise, and offered correction, direction, and alignment. Together they provided what every household needs: fathers who build and fathers who correct.

Paul understood this deeply when he wrote, “Though you have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet you do not have many fathers.” (1 Corinthians 4:15) He was not merely lamenting a leadership imbalance; he was exposing a spiritual crisis. Instructors can fill classrooms, but fathers fill lives. Teachers can pass on information, but fathers pass on identity. Professors can lecture, but fathers can raise. And Paul was saying to the church he birthed: You have plenty of people who want to talk, but very few who want to labor, weep, travail, correct, nurture, and actually raise children.

This is the crisis of the modern church. We have teachers in abundance, pastors in every corner, and programs for every age group, yet we remain a people largely unformed, undisciplined, and spiritually immature. Even society mirrors this truth. We have schoolhouses full of teachers, universities full of professors, and a culture full of people who have been instructed endlessly yet remain directionless, unstable, and unanchored. Instruction alone cannot produce maturity. Information alone cannot produce identity. Education alone cannot produce formation.

The Scripture is painfully clear: apostles and prophets were given “until we all come into the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.” (Ephesians 4:13) And since it is abundantly obvious that we have not yet arrived at that fullness, the conclusion is equally obvious: we still need the foundational ministries God gave.

When the church removes apostles and prophets, it removes fathers and watchmen. When it removes fathers and watchmen, it removes discipline and direction. When it removes discipline and direction, it removes formation. And when formation is lost, the church becomes a crowd instead of a family, a gathering instead of a household, an institution instead of a body, and a weekly event instead of a people being built into the likeness of Christ.

A church without apostles may be organized, but it will not be grounded. A church without prophets may be active, but it will not be aligned. A church without fathers may be full, but it will not be formed.

And when the church loses formation, it loses its compass. It loses its ability to correct with love, to recognize emerging callings, to send with wisdom, to nurture with patience, and to cultivate the kind of maturity that endures beyond emotion, event, or entertainment. It may produce volunteers and workers, but it will struggle to raise disciples who can strengthen others.

Without the foundation God designed, the church becomes exactly what society has become: a people with thousands of instructors but few fathers, thousands of voices but little wisdom, thousands of opinions but no direction, thousands of gatherings but no growth.

The solution is not complicated. It is simply costly. Bring back the apostles. Bring back the prophets. Bring back the fathers. Bring back the foundation.

Only then will the church recover its compass, its clarity, its courage, and its calling.

The Garden Pattern: When Fathers Fail, the World Fractures

If we are going to speak honestly about the condition of our world, we cannot begin with the headlines, the statistics, or the cultural symptoms that parade across our screens. We must return to the first wound, the first fracture, the first moment when fatherhood failed and the world began to unravel. That moment did not take place in a courtroom or a classroom or a broken home; it took place in a garden planted by God Himself, where a man entrusted with dominion refused to obey the only command his Father had given him.

The Lord had spoken with clarity and generosity: “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day you eat of it you shall surely die.” (Genesis 2:16–17) It was not a complicated command. It was not burdensome. It was not restrictive. It was a boundary meant to preserve life, identity, and fellowship. Yet Adam turned his ear toward another voice, reached for what was forbidden, and stepped across the line God had drawn for his protection.

In that single act of disobedience, the world shifted. The Scriptures tell us that “their eyes were opened” (Genesis 3:7), but what they saw was not enlightenment — it was the sudden awareness of shame. They hid themselves among the trees, confessing, “I was afraid because I was naked, and I hid myself.” (Genesis 3:10) Fear replaced fellowship. Shame replaced innocence. Blame replaced responsibility. And the man who had been placed in the garden to cultivate and keep it now found himself driven from it: “So He drove out the man…” (Genesis 3:24)

The consequences unfolded with devastating speed. The ground that once yielded freely now resisted him: “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread.” (Genesis 3:19) The peace of Eden gave way to the toil of survival. The harmony of the first family dissolved into rivalry and violence as Cain rose up against Abel and spilled his brother’s blood into the earth (Genesis 4:8). What began as a single act of disobedience became a generational pattern — a cycle of brokenness, rebellion, and fatherlessness that has echoed through every age.

And here is the sobering truth: the same pattern repeats itself whenever the people of God abandon the command entrusted to them. Just as Adam turned from the voice of his Father, the church has turned from the voice of her Lord. Jesus did not leave us confused about our mission. He spoke with the same clarity the Father spoke in Eden: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations… teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” (Matthew 28:19–20) This was not a suggestion. It was not an optional ministry track. It was the singular mandate of the church — to go, to teach, to form, to raise, to father, to disciple, to bring the lost into the household of God.

But when the church ceased to go, the world ceased to rise. When the church stopped teaching His ways, the world forgot His ways. When the church abandoned discipleship, the world abandoned discipline. When the church stopped raising sons and daughters, the world produced wanderers and orphans. And when the church withdrew from its mission, society withdrew from its foundation.

The world did not become fatherless because the world rejected God; the world became fatherless because the church stopped revealing the Father. Darkness did not grow stronger; the light grew dimmer. And the wound that opened in Eden — the wound of disobedience, abandonment, and fractured fatherhood — continues to bleed through every generation until the people of God return to the command they left.

A Personal Witness: Fatherless in Life, Unformed in Church

I grew up fatherless, so I know the ache firsthand. Losing a father to death breaks your heart; losing one to abandonment breaks your identity. The sense of being unwanted, the guilt of thinking you somehow caused it, the feeling of being unloved — these are wounds that run deep. That kind of absence shapes you in ways only the fatherless truly understand, and it’s why this conversation matters so much to me.

The Result: A Generation Marked by Spiritual Instability

The consequences of this failure are visible across the modern church. When believers are not spiritually formed, they often remain unstable—sincere but easily swayed, active but not anchored, passionate but not deeply rooted. A church that does not know how to raise people into maturity will inevitably create dependence where there should be growth, repetition where there should be fruit, and exhaustion where there should be inheritance.

This is not an indictment of wounded believers; it is an indictment of insufficient formation. People do not become spiritually stunted because they lack value. They become spiritually stunted because too many churches have learned how to gather crowds without learning how to raise families.

Teach Them Diligently

From the beginning, God placed the responsibility of spiritual formation not on strangers, institutions, or hired professionals, but on parents — father and mother together. The command was unmistakable: “These words which I command you this day shall be in your heart; and you shall teach them diligently unto your children…” (Deuteronomy 6:6–7). The home was meant to be the first sanctuary, the table the first classroom, the parents the first instructors, and the daily rhythms of life the curriculum through which the knowledge of God was passed from one generation to the next. When that responsibility is abandoned, no amount of preaching, programming, or public education can replace what God entrusted to fathers and mothers. And just as Adam’s abdication fractured the first family, every generation that neglects this command repeats the same pattern of drift, disorder, and spiritual orphanhood.

The Call: Who Among You Will Rise?

Father’s Day therefore becomes more than a date on the calendar. It becomes a summons to spiritual responsibility. The prophetic weight of Scripture presses the question into the present: “Who is among you that feareth the Lord?” [Isaiah 50:10]

And again: “Who is there even among you that would shut the doors for nought?” [Malachi 1:10]

And again, in a moment of national crisis: “Who is on the Lord’s side?” [Exodus 32:26]

Those questions do not ask first about credentials, platforms, titles, or visibility. They ask about reverence, obedience, courage, and willingness. Who will bear the Father’s heart toward the overlooked? Who will choose the hidden labor of discipleship over the public performance of leadership? Who will rise not merely to hold authority, but to shoulder responsibility for the spiritual well-being of others?

The Restoration the Church Needs

If the church is to recover depth, it must recover formation. That recovery will require more than better programming, sharper branding, or louder rhetoric. It will require leaders who understand that ministry is not only about attracting attention but about cultivating people—patiently, relationally, and over time.

In practical terms, that means restoring the neglected work of discipleship, correction, mentoring, and sending. It means recovering a church culture in which believers are not merely recruited to fill needs but raised to carry responsibility. It means valuing presence as much as performance, maturity as much as momentum, and character as much as gifting.

Where such restoration begins, the effects are unmistakable. People grow. Callings clarify. Service deepens into stewardship. The lonely find belonging. The immature become steady. The wounded are not merely used; they are healed, strengthened, and prepared to strengthen others in turn.

Conclusion: Father’s Day as a Summons

Father’s Day is indeed a celebration, but in a generation marked by fracture, it must become far more than a moment of sentiment. It must become a summons — a call back to the holy weight of fatherhood, both natural and spiritual. It is a reminder that God has never abandoned His design for men, nor His intention for His church to be a household where sons and daughters are not merely welcomed but formed, not merely gathered but grown, not merely counted but cultivated.

The need before us is not theoretical. It is urgent. The wounds are not abstract. They are lived in real homes, carried in real hearts, and visible in the instability of a generation searching for anchors it never received. Yet the grace of God remains as steady as ever, for “a father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy habitation; He sets the lonely in families” (Psalm 68:5–6). He has not changed His nature, nor withdrawn His promise to build His people into a living household of belonging, identity, and purpose.

The task before the church is not to imitate the culture’s sentimentality, nor to retreat into the safety of its own walls, but to recover the courage to embody spiritual responsibility — to teach, to form, to disciple, to correct, to nurture, to raise, and to love with the truth and tenderness of the Father Himself. This is not the work of a moment; it is the calling of a lifetime.

And so the question stands before us with the same searching clarity it carried in the days of Isaiah, when the Lord asked, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?” (Isaiah 6:8). It is the question that still separates sentiment from sacrifice, comfort from calling, and spectators from fathers.

Who among us will rise — not for recognition, but for responsibility; not for platform, but for people; not merely to lead, but to father; not merely to speak, but to form; not merely to gather, but to raise sons and daughters who know their Father and walk in His ways?

The evidence has been presented; the summons has been issued …I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.” (Isaiah 6:8)

ONE LORD, ONE FAITH, ONE BAPTISM, ONE GOD AND FATHER OF ALL

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
(Ephesians 4:5–6, KJV) A Letter to the Churches of the World
THE BLUEPRINT OF UNITY WAS NEVER OUR IDEA — IT WAS GOD’S

There is a unity that does not originate in human councils, denominational boards, or ecclesiastical structures. It is not the product of negotiation, compromise, or theological diplomacy. It is the unity God Himself designed, revealed, and established. When Paul declared, “One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all” (Ephesians 4:5–6), he was not offering poetry or metaphor. He was unveiling the divine architecture of the Kingdom. This is the blueprint of the Body of Christ, the non‑negotiable foundation upon which the Church stands. Unity is not something we create; it is something God has already decreed. The Spirit is calling the Church back to this blueprint, back to the original design, back to the unity that reflects the heart of the Father.

UNITY WAS PROPHESIED LONG BEFORE IT WAS REALIZED

Long before Christ walked the earth, God revealed His intention to reunite what human pride had fractured. Israel and Judah had become two kingdoms, divided in loyalty, worship, and identity. Yet God spoke through Ezekiel with a vision that defied their division. He commanded the prophet to take two sticks, one representing Judah and the other representing Israel, and join them together. The Lord declared, “Join them one to another into one stick; and they shall become one in thine hand.” (Ezekiel 37:17). This was not symbolic artistry; it was prophetic destiny. God was announcing that He Himself would reunite what man had divided. Hosea echoed the same promise when he wrote, “The children of Judah and the children of Israel shall be gathered together and appoint themselves one Head.” (Hosea 1:11). Unity was not man’s dream; it was God’s decree.

UNITY WAS FULFILLED IN CHRIST, NOT IN COUNCILS

When Jesus came, He did not establish denominations, movements, or competing ministries. He came as the Shepherd‑King who gathers the scattered and restores the divided. He declared, “There shall be one fold, and one shepherd.” (John 10:16). He did not speak of many folds, many visions, or many kingdoms. He spoke of one. The unity of the tribes was fulfilled in Christ, the Son of David, the promised King who brings together the people of God under one Head. He is not the head of many bodies; He is the Head of one Body. The unity of the Church is not the result of ecclesiastical agreements but the result of the person and work of Jesus Christ.

UNITY IS PRODUCED BY THE SPIRIT, NOT BY HUMAN EFFORT

Pentecost was not a committee meeting, a doctrinal summit, or a denominational merger. It was the moment heaven descended and the Spirit of God made the disciples one. The Spirit did not ask them to agree; He made them agree. He did not ask them to unify; He unified them. Paul wrote, “For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body.” (1 Corinthians 12:13). Unity is not something we achieve; it is something we receive. It is the supernatural work of the Spirit who binds believers together in Christ. The unity of the Church is not the fruit of human leadership but the fruit of divine indwelling.

UNITY IS DESTROYED WHEN MEN TRY TO BE LORD

Division enters the Church when men attempt to occupy the throne that belongs to Christ alone. We were called to walk with the Lord, not to be Lord. Division arises when leaders seek control, when churches seek influence, when pastors seek kingdoms, when denominations seek loyalty, and when believers seek their own preferences. The Body fractures when men elevate their visions above God’s vision and their agendas above God’s purpose. But unity flourishes when Christ is the only King, when the Spirit is the only voice, when the Word is the only foundation, and when the Gospel is the only message. Unity is not the fruit of hierarchy; unity is the fruit of humility.

UNITY IS MAINTAINED BY SURRENDER, NOT STRUCTURE

Paul urged the Church to “endeavor to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3). He did not tell us to create unity, enforce unity, legislate unity, or negotiate unity. He told us to keep unity. The Spirit has already given it; our task is simply not to break it. Unity is not preserved by councils, committees, constitutions, or conferences. It is preserved by surrender — surrender to Christ, surrender to the Spirit, surrender to the Word, and surrender to one another in love. The unity of the Church is not maintained by structure but by submission to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

UNITY IS THE SIGN OF TRUE DISCIPLESHIP

Jesus declared, “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” (John 13:35). The world does not recognize disciples by doctrine, denomination, worship style, preaching, buildings, programs, or movements. It recognizes disciples by love — the love that binds believers together in unity. A divided Church cannot reveal a united Christ. The unity of the Body is the testimony of the Gospel. When the Church is one, the world sees Jesus.

UNITY IS THE FINAL PRAYER OF JESUS — AND THE FINAL BATTLE OF THE ENEMY

Before the cross, Jesus prayed His final prayer for His people: “That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee.” (John 17:21). This was His last request, His final desire, His closing petition. And Satan’s strategy has always been the opposite. The enemy divides because he knows a divided Church is a defeated Church. But a united Church is an unstoppable Kingdom. The unity Jesus prayed for is the unity the Spirit produces and the unity the enemy fears.

A PRAYER FOR UNITY — THE PRAYER JESUS PRAYED

Father, we hear the prayer Your Son prayed over us: “That they may be one, even as We are one.” (John 17:22). We confess that we have divided what You made one. We have fractured what You unified. We have built kingdoms where You built a Body. We have followed men where we should have followed Christ. Forgive us, heal us, and unite us. Bring us back to the unity of the Spirit and the bond of peace. Bring us back to the Shepherd of our souls. Bring us back to the blueprint of the Kingdom: One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all. Let this Pentecost be a fresh outpouring of unity. Let the fire that fell in the upper room fall again upon Your Church. Let the nations hear one message through many voices. Let the world see Your glory in our oneness. For Christ is not divided, and we refuse to be a divided Body any longer. Amen.

After Easter: Teaching Children to Seek Christ

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

Introduction

Easter weekend has come and gone, and the familiar rhythm has played itself out once again. The eggs were scattered across the yard, the children ran with excitement, the baskets were filled, and the candy disappeared almost as quickly as it was found. Yet when the noise settles and the sugar rush fades, a deeper question rises to the surface, one that lingers long after the decorations have been boxed up and the plastic eggs have been stored away. What, exactly, have we taught our children to search for? What desires have we shaped in them? What appetites have we awakened? And what kind of treasure have we placed before their eyes?

The Biblical Metaphor of Searching

Jesus spoke often about searching, but His stories carried a weight far greater than seasonal traditions or childhood games. He described a man who stumbled upon something so valuable that it redefined his entire life. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field.” [Matthew 13:44] He also spoke of a merchant whose entire livelihood revolved around discerning value, a man who spent his days searching for pearls, until one day he found a pearl so surpassingly precious that it eclipsed everything else he had ever seen. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls: who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it.” [Matthew 13:45–46]

These stories were not about candy, prizes, or seasonal excitement. They were not about momentary joy or temporary rewards. They were about Christ Himself, the Treasure hidden in plain sight, the Pearl of Great Price whose worth cannot be measured and whose glory cannot be exhausted. Jesus was not calling His followers to a weekend of searching but to a lifetime of seeking. He was not inviting them to a brief moment of excitement but to a continual pursuit of the One who alone satisfies the soul.

The Problem with Cultural Traditions

Yet when we look at the patterns we place before our children, we must be honest about what we are actually teaching them. At Christmas, we tell them to look under the tree. At Easter, we tell them to search for eggs. Throughout the year, we reward behavior with trinkets, treats, and temporary pleasures. Without realizing it, we disciple them into a rhythm of searching for what is fleeting rather than what is eternal. We train them to chase what is hollow rather than what is holy. We hand them empty eggs while Christ offers a tomb that is gloriously filled with resurrection power.

Earthly vs. Heavenly Treasures

Scripture speaks plainly about the difference between earthly treasures and heavenly ones. Jesus warned His disciples with unmistakable clarity: “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven… for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” [Matthew 6:19–21] Earthly treasures fade, break, melt, or disappear. Heavenly treasures endure forever. Earthly rewards satisfy for a moment. Heavenly rewards satisfy for eternity. Earthly searching ends in an empty basket. Heavenly searching ends in a transformed heart.

The Open Invitation to Seek Christ

The world hides plastic eggs in the grass, but the Father does not hide His Son in the same way. He reveals Him openly in the Scriptures, where the prophets, the psalms, and the apostles testify of Him. He reveals Him in creation, where the heavens declare the glory of God. He reveals Him in the quiet tug of the Spirit, who draws the heart toward repentance and faith. The prophet Isaiah issued a timeless invitation that still echoes across the centuries: “Seek ye the LORD while He may be found, call ye upon Him while He is near.” [Isaiah 55:6] The call to seek God is not seasonal. It is not tied to a holiday. It is not dependent on decorations, traditions, or cultural rhythms. It is a daily summons to pursue the One who pursued us first.

Living the Resurrection Daily

Every year, Easter fades. The decorations return to their boxes. The baskets are shoved into closets. Life resumes its ordinary pace. Yet the resurrection was never meant to be a weekend event. It was meant to be the launching point of a lifelong pursuit. The early church did not gather once a year to remember an empty tomb. They lived in the power of the resurrection every single day. Luke records that they “continued stedfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers.” [Acts 2:42] Their lives were marked by continual devotion, continual seeking, continual hunger for the presence of God.

Reclaiming the Search

Somewhere along the way, we traded that daily pursuit for a calendar event and a candy hunt. We replaced the search for Christ with the search for trinkets. We substituted the Pearl of Great Price with plastic eggs. We exchanged the eternal for the temporary, the holy for the hollow, the substantial for the superficial.

Perhaps it is time to reclaim the search. Perhaps it is time to teach our children that the greatest treasure is not hidden in the yard but revealed in the Word. Perhaps it is time to show them that the most valuable pursuit is not for what melts in the sun but for the One who reigns at the right hand of the Father. Perhaps it is time to remind them that the greatest discovery is not found in a basket but in a Savior who stepped out of the grave.

Conclusion

The invitation still stands, as clear and compelling as ever: “Seek the LORD while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near.” [Isaiah 55:6] After the candy is gone and the decorations are boxed up, let us point our families to the only Treasure worth searching for, the only Pearl worth selling everything to obtain, the only Savior who conquered death and offers life everlasting. And may our children grow up knowing that the greatest search of their lives is not for what is hidden in the grass but for the Christ who is revealed in the Gospel, the risen Lord who calls them to Himself with love, truth, and eternal promise.

America’s Crisis Is Not Biblical Illiteracy — It Is the Absence of the Living God

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

Introduction

As America reflects on its moral and cultural upheaval, many commentators have pointed to biblical illiteracy as the nation’s defining crisis. They warn that without the vocabulary of Scripture, society loses the categories necessary to sustain truth, virtue, and freedom. This concern is understandable, and the erosion of biblical language in public life is undeniable. Yet Scripture itself teaches that the collapse of a nation does not begin with the loss of religious vocabulary but with the loss of the Living God Himself. America’s crisis is not merely that it has forgotten the words of Scripture; it is that it has forgotten the Lord of Scripture.

The Root of National Collapse

Throughout the biblical narrative, nations do not fall because they lack access to truth. They fall because they reject the God who gives it. The prophet Hosea declared, “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge” (Hosea 4:6), yet the knowledge they lacked was not academic. It was relational. God continues, “Because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee.” The issue was not literacy but lordship. Israel possessed the Scriptures, the priesthood, the temple, and the covenant, yet repeatedly turned to idols. Their downfall came not from ignorance but from unfaithfulness.

America’s Present Moment

This distinction is crucial for understanding America’s present moment. The United States has more access to Scripture than any nation in history. Bibles fill our shelves, apps fill our phones, sermons fill our feeds, and theological resources are available at the tap of a screen. If biblical literacy alone could preserve a nation, America would be the most stable society on earth. Yet the opposite is true. The problem is not that we lack the text but that we have abandoned the God who speaks through it.

Jesus’ Confrontation with Biblical Literacy

Jesus confronted this very condition in His own generation. The Pharisees were the most biblically literate people of their time, yet He told them, “Ye search the Scriptures… and they are they which testify of Me. And ye will not come to Me, that ye might have life” (John 5:39–40). They possessed the vocabulary of truth but resisted the Person of Truth. Their crisis was not interpretive but spiritual. In all their study, they had not found Christ.

The Example of Saul of Tarsus

The life of Saul of Tarsus underscores this reality with striking force. Trained under Gamaliel, zealous for the law, and fluent in the theological categories of his day, Saul embodied the very literacy many believe America must recover. Yet his mastery of Scripture led him to persecute the Church, not embrace Christ. Only when he encountered the risen Lord did the Scriptures he knew so well come alive. Reflecting on his former achievements, he wrote, “What things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ… and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ” (Philippians 3:7–8). His transformation came not through further education but through new birth.

The Crisis of the Church

This is the heart of America’s crisis. We have built churches that teach principles but do not produce disciples. We have created religious environments that inform the mind but do not transform the heart. We have defended biblical values while neglecting biblical obedience. We have celebrated Christian heritage while resisting Christian holiness. The result is a nation shaped by the language of faith but untouched by the life of God.

The Call to Discipleship

Jesus did not establish seminaries; He established disciples. He did not say, “Take My course,” but “Follow Me.” Discipleship is not an academic exercise but a supernatural work of the Spirit. It is the process by which men and women are born again, conformed to the image of Christ, and empowered to live as witnesses in a darkened world. When the Church abandons this calling, the nation loses its light. When the salt loses its savor, the culture decays. When the people of God trade the Living Word for religious substitutes, the nation loses the moral clarity only God can give.

The Loss of Biblical Life

The Scriptures warn repeatedly that when a people forget the Lord, they lose far more than vocabulary. They lose the very life that sustains righteousness. Moses told Israel, “It is not a vain thing for you; because it is your life” (Deuteronomy 32:47). Jeremiah declared, “My people have forsaken Me the fountain of living waters” (Jeremiah 2:13). Jesus said, “Without Me ye can do nothing” (John 15:5). The crisis of America is not the absence of biblical language but the absence of biblical life.

The Path to Moral Recovery

If America is to recover its moral footing, the Church must recover its spiritual power. We must return to the fear of the Lord, the necessity of repentance, the reality of the new birth, and the transforming presence of the Holy Spirit. We must proclaim the gospel not as a cultural artifact but as the power of God unto salvation (Romans 1:16). We must teach the Scriptures not merely to inform minds but to form hearts. We must once again become a people who do not simply read the Word but are read by it.

The Biblical Foundation for Liberty

John Adams famously warned, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.” His concern was not institutional religion but the inner moral restraint necessary for liberty to survive. Yet Scripture goes further still. It does not teach that religion upholds a nation, for religion has toppled empires and fueled oppression. Rather, the Bible declares, “Righteousness exalteth a nation: but sin is a reproach to any people” (Proverbs 14:34). Holiness, not mere religiosity, sustains a people. And righteousness does not arise from education or tradition but from hearts transformed by the living God. A nation may be religious and still be corrupt; it may be biblically literate and still be spiritually dead. Only a people submitted to the Lord can sustain the freedoms they celebrate.