TEN YEARS GONE: Great Babylon Has Fallen (Revised)

 

When Systems Collapse and Illusions Burn

TEN YEARS GONE: New Testament — What Is the “Violence”?

When Judgment Comes Not by Force, but by Truth Fully Spoken

First published November 29, 2015 (Revised for 2026)

TEN YEARS GONE: He Can't Lead the Nations Astray Anymore

 

Why the Gospel Never Needed the Power of the State
First Published Saturday, November 28, 2015

TEN YEARS GONE - Holy, Set Apart

     What I Believed About Holiness Before I Understood Grief

(Originally published November 27, 2015 | lightly edited)

Ten years ago, I was still close enough to loss to speak with urgency.

Fresh grief sharpens moral language. It doesn’t always soften it — but it does make it honest.

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“But as for cowards, the faithless, the corrupt, murderers, the sexually immoral, idolaters, and all liars, their place will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”
— Revelation 21:8

The closing chapters of Scripture do not argue. They summarize. They do not negotiate. They describe what belongs in eternity — and what cannot survive it.

What has always struck me is that the dividing line is not intelligence, doctrine, or even religious fluency. It is holiness — not as moral exhibitionism, but as a life set apart from self-destruction.

Cowardice is not holy.
Unfaithfulness fractures trust.
Dirty-mindedness corrodes the inner life.
Lies eventually isolate the liar.

These are not arbitrary rules. They are descriptions of what leads to tears.

Revelation places the wiping away of tears right alongside the call to holiness — and that pairing is no accident. So much of our suffering is delayed consequence. We grasp for comfort now and grieve later. We break bonds and are surprised by the pain. We tell ourselves a lie and wonder why the world feels unreal.

Holiness, joy, and peace are not opposites. They are aligned.

Ten years ago, I wrote with conviction because I believed — and still believe — that God’s warnings are acts of mercy. They are not meant to shame us, but to spare us from becoming people who can no longer receive joy.

Time has not made that conviction smaller.
It has made it more compassionate.

Ten Years Gone: Letting the Bible Speak

Letting the Bible Speak

First Published Friday, November 27, 2015

Handing It On

Why showing up second completes the circle of grace

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For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins … and that he was raised on the third day.

 - From 1 Corinthians 15

There’s a sacred rhythm in those words — a rhythm older than time itself.
Paul doesn’t just proclaim the gospel; he hands it on. He shows up first. That’s what love does.

When I invite people to a concert, or to a family gathering, or to share in something that has taken shape in my heart — I’m not trying to sell tickets or fill seats. I’m handing on something precious. I’m showing up first, holding out a piece of myself, hoping someone will close the circle by taking it, cherishing it, and handing it forward. . . . By showing up second. 

And yet, how often the response comes back:

“Not everybody likes going to live performances.”
“Not everybody is into genealogy.”

But what’s really being offered isn’t a “show” or a “project.” It’s communion. It’s participation. It’s the human chain that keeps beauty alive. When someone shows up, the art breathes. The family grows. The circle closes.

Paul knew that. He passed along what he had received, trusting it would awaken faith in others. That’s how the gospel survives — by being shared, not shelved.

A physical gift can be unwrapped, politely received, and soon forgotten. But a gift of presence — music, story, fellowship — is alive. It carries risk and vulnerability. It waits to be accepted. And when it is, something eternal passes between giver and receiver.

Show up. Take the handoff. Complete the circle. That’s how grace keeps moving.

Refrain from Anger

When Calm Isn’t Peace and Control Isn’t Healing

Refrain from anger, leave rage alone; do not fret yourself; it leads only to evil.

 - From Psalm 137