All our groceries have sell-by-dates or expiry dates.
So much of our thinking comes from our consumerist way of seeing the world. This mindset can creep into our view of people as well. Even if it’s unintentional, we think of people as having a “best-before” date—a date after which people no longer play a useful role in our lives and in the church.
One of the most striking moments in Scripture is found in John 8, where Jesus encounters the woman caught in adultery. The religious leaders brought her before Him, ready to condemn her according to the law. Their eyes were fixed on justice, yet Jesus responded in a way that challenges us even today: He upheld the law and called sin to account, but He did so without crushing the sinner. He said, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her” (John 8:7). One by one, the crowd left. He did not excuse her sin—His command was clear: “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:11). In this moment, Jesus prevented her immediate execution while calling her to a changed life. Mercy and truth, love and correction, were held together in perfect balance.
We must admit that we often struggle to achieve this balance.
Hurried “quiet times” leave Christians unfulfilled, other than having ticked off another activity on their daily to-do list. Is there not a better way to approach Bible reading?
In 1919, Edward Shillito — a poet and World War I chaplain — wrote the poem below in response to the horrors he had witnessed. It is not a philosophical answer to the trauma and suffering of broken people, but rather, the reality of the hope found in a Messiah who associates with our suffering.
We’ve all been there — that awkward moment when you ask a brother or sister, “How are you doing?” and get a polite but vague, “I’m fine.” But real discipleship goes deeper.
Being quick to hear and slow to speak is essential in discipling someone. Walking with someone and helping them grow requires understanding. And understanding what’s going on in the heart and mind of a dear brother or sister is the gateway to truly helping them.
Paul writes to the church in Rome about worship—not as something limited to Sundays, but as a whole-life response.
Romans 12:1 I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.
Worship is about more than music or a moment. It’s about presenting our whole lives to God. The worth of God is declared by a life that is set apart—holy, different, consecrated.
A blameless, upright life is not a way of making ourselves acceptable to God. Rather, it is a response to His mercy—a life lived to show His worth.
You might struggle to finish this article—not because it’s long, but because your brain is used to being interrupted.
Every ping, like, and buzz on your phone gives you something: a little hit of dopamine. It’s that pleasure-chemical your brain releases when it gets something it wants—whether it’s chocolate, a text message, or a new follower on your Facebook account. Dopamine is not sinful; it’s part of how God designed us to pursue reward and pleasure. But dopamine has become a kind of digital drug—constantly triggered by trivial things, and slowly dulling us to the joy we were made for.
“So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” – 1 Corinthians 10:31
This simple yet sweeping command from Paul frames everything the church is meant to be. When a church forgets its ultimate purpose, ministry can subtly shift from serving people for God’s glory to serving them as the goal. That shift may seem small, but the consequences are significant.
More than a hundred years ago, deep in the dry sands of Egypt, archaeologists unearthed a small, fragile piece of papyrus. At first glance, it may not have seemed like much—but it turned out to be a remarkable link to the earliest days of Christian worship. What they found is now known as the Oxyrhynchus Hymn, and it holds a special place in history: it’s the oldest-known Christian hymn that includes both the words and the musical notes.
In Exodus 12, God gave us a powerful picture where judgment and mercy came together in a striking yet beautiful way. It was a foreshadowing of His eternal plan of salvation. God was justly going to judge Egypt, where the firstborn in every household was about to die because of the demonic rebellion rooted in the worship of false gods. The entire land was under God’s judgment.
Yet even in His justice, mercy was not absent. Through the Passover (pasach), God opened a way of escape for all who believed His word.
On the night of the first Passover, each Israelite family sacrificed a spotless lamb and carefully spread its blood on the doorposts of their home. They ate the lamb with bitter herbs and unleavened bread, ready to leave Egypt at a moment’s notice. That night, as God moved through the land to strike down Egypt’s firstborn, He passed over every home marked by the lamb’s blood, sparing those inside.