Then the Pharisees and Sadducees came and began to argue with Jesus and test Him by demanding Him to show them a sign from heaven. Jesus sighed deeply in His spirit and said, “Why does this generation demand a sign? “When evening comes, you say, ‘The weather will be fair, for the sky is red,’ and in the morning, ‘Today it will be stormy, for the sky is red and overcast.’ You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but not the signs of the times. A wicked and adulterous generation demands a sign, Truly I tell you, no sign will be given to this generation except the sign of Jonah.” And He left them, got back into the boat, and crossed to the other side.
My Thoughts
Jesus took a lot of heat from the religious leaders of the day. They were constantly bringing accusations and badgering Him for signs that would give them clear authentication that He had authority to do and say the things He did and said. These attacks started pretty early in Jesus’ ministry. But why? Why so much hate for a simple carpenter turned rabbi with a following of common people?
Here’s some of the things we pick up from the Scriptures about these religious leaders;
They were jealous (John 7:48-49).
They were envious (Matthew 27:18, Mark 15:10)
He was a threat to their authority (John 7:48-49).
He violated their traditions (Matthew 15:1-9).
He caused Sabbath controversies (John 5:18).
He claimed divine Sonship (John 5:18).
He performed miracles (John 11:53, John 12:10-11).
They were suppressing the truth (Romans 1:18).
He called out their hypocrisy (Matthew 23:13-36).
They did not understand the Scriptures (1 Peter 2:7, Matthew 21:42, John 5:39).
They feared losing their position (John 11:48).
He associated with sinners (Matthew 9:11).
They thought He was in league with Satan (Matthew 12:24).
That’s quite the list! As a disciple-maker have you ever met resistance like any mentioned above? And here’s the real kicker. Have you ever caused harm to a brother or sister with the kind of weapons mentioned above?
When we read the accounts of Jesus and His disciples in the New Testament, it always seems like it’s the “religious” that are doing the most harm. It’s almost like you need to fear the “insiders” more than the “outsiders.” Jesus gave ample warning, “If they persecute Me, they will persecute you.” (Matthew 10:22, Luke 21:12, John 15:20). But in our zeal we need to be careful that we are not the ones doing the persecuting.
As we used to say in the Army, “Friendly fire ain’t so friendly.”
My Story
Continuing with this line of thinking, I can also say “Social media ain’t so social.” I am shocked how “Christian” people feel the freedom to spew anger, hate, and bitterness. And over the smallest issues. Instead of dialog, we’ve chosen to judge the whole person’s character by “sound bites.” I’ve been the recipient of such harsh criticism for doing church in a home. Really? Are we going to go to war with a brother over that?
Now to be sure there are some things on social media that are way out there and some down right heresy. But does that give us the freedom to load both verbal barrels and open fire? I see a lot of that when we should seek to understand first, lovingly correct in private second, and try to bring people back to central truths by pointing them to the Bible.
I don’t want to fall into the trap of being angry at angry people. But I just see so much anger out there that something needs to be said. Let’s talk, discuss, dialogue and try to bring the truth in love as the first move instead of being uncharitable, spiteful, or even cruel.
Look back at your social media posts. Were you mean spirited in any of them? Do you need to apologize?
Look at the posts of those you are discipling. Is correction needed?
War game with those you are discipling “how to correct someone in love.”
As followers of Jesus, let’s ensure our actions and words reflect His love whether online or in person. Let’s strive to speak the truth in love, seek understanding first, and avoid becoming the very source of harm we aim to stand against, remembering that our ultimate goal is to glorify God by becoming like His Son.
Detractores de la religión – #108
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo y Marcos para ver cómo respondió Jesús a los detractores de la religión.
Comencemos.
Mateo 16:1-4, Marcos 8:11-13
Entonces los fariseos y los saduceos vinieron y comenzaron a discutir con Jesús y a tentarlo, exigiéndole que les mostrara una señal del cielo. Jesús suspiró profundamente y dijo: “¿Por qué esta generación pide una señal? Al anochecer, dicen: ‘Buen tiempo habrá, porque el cielo está rojo’, y por la mañana: ‘Hoy habrá tormenta, porque el cielo está rojo y nublado’. Saben interpretar el aspecto del cielo, pero no las señales de los tiempos. Una generación malvada y adúltera pide una señal. De cierto les digo que a esta generación no se le dará otra señal que la de Jonás”. Y los dejó, volvió a la barca y cruzó a la otra orilla.
Mis Pensamientos
Jesús recibió muchas críticas de los líderes religiosos de la época. Constantemente lo acusaban y lo acosaban para que les diera señales que les confirmaran claramente que tenía autoridad para hacer y decir lo que hacía y decía. Estos ataques comenzaron bastante temprano en el ministerio de Jesús. Pero ¿por qué? ¿Por qué tanto odio hacia un simple carpintero convertido en rabino con un grupo de seguidores de la gente común?
Aquí hay algunas cosas que aprendemos de las Escrituras sobre estos líderes religiosos:
Tenían celos (Juan 7:48-49).
Tenían envidia (Mateo 27:18; Marcos 15:10).
Él era una amenaza para su autoridad (Juan 7:48-49).
Violaba sus tradiciones (Mateo 15:1-9).
Provocaba controversias sobre el sábado (Juan 5:18).
Afirmaba ser hijo divino (Juan 5:18). Obró milagros (Juan 11:53, Juan 12:10-11).
Estaban suprimiendo la verdad (Romanos 1:18).
Denunció su hipocresía (Mateo 23:13-36).
No entendían las Escrituras (1 Pedro 2:7, Mateo 21:42, Juan 5:39).
Temían perder su posición (Juan 11:48).
Se relacionó con pecadores (Mateo 9:11).
Pensaron que estaba aliado con Satanás (Mateo 12:24).
¡Menuda lista! Como hacedor de discípulos, ¿alguna vez te has encontrado con resistencia como las mencionadas anteriormente? Y aquí está la clave: ¿alguna vez has causado daño a un hermano o hermana con las armas mencionadas? Cuando leemos los relatos de Jesús y sus discípulos en el Nuevo Testamento, siempre parece que son los religiosos los que más daño causan. Es casi como si debiéramos temer más a los de adentro que a los de afuera. Jesús dio una amplia advertencia: «Si me persiguen a mí, os perseguirán a vosotros» (Mateo 10:22; Lucas 21:12; Juan 15:20). Pero en nuestro celo, debemos tener cuidado de no ser nosotros quienes persigamos.
Como solíamos decir en el ejército: «El fuego amigo no es tan amigo».
Mi Historia
Siguiendo con esta línea de pensamiento, también puedo decir: “Las redes sociales no son tan sociales”. Me sorprende cómo los cristianos se sienten libres de expresar ira, odio y amargura, incluso por los problemas más pequeños. En lugar de dialogar, hemos optado por juzgar el carácter integral de la persona por frases breves. He recibido duras críticas por tener la iglesia en casa. ¿En serio? ¿Vamos a entrar en guerra con un hermano por eso?
Claro que hay cosas en las redes sociales que son muy raras y otras que son una auténtica herejía. Pero ¿nos da eso la libertad de usar la palabra y abrir fuego? Veo mucho de eso cuando deberíamos buscar primero comprender, luego corregir con amor en privado y tratar de que la gente vuelva a las verdades fundamentales guiándoles hacia la Biblia.
No quiero caer en la trampa de enojarme con la gente enojada. Pero veo tanta ira que es necesario decir algo. Hablemos, discutamos, dialoguemos y tratemos de llevar la verdad en el amor como primer paso en lugar de ser poco caritativos, rencorosos o incluso crueles.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicar. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
Revisa tus publicaciones en redes sociales. ¿Fuiste cruel en alguna? ¿Necesitas disculparte?
Mira las publicaciones de quienes estás discipulando. ¿Es necesaria la corrección?
Entrena a quienes estás discipulando: “¿Cómo corregir a alguien con amor?”.
Como seguidores de Jesús, asegurémonos de que nuestras acciones y palabras reflejen su amor, ya sea en línea o en persona. Esforcémonos por hablar la verdad con amor, busquemos primero la comprensión y evitemos convertirnos en la causa del daño que buscamos combatir, recordando que nuestro objetivo final es glorificar a Dios siendo como su Hijo.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
Save me, O God, For the waters have threatened my life. I have sunk in deep mire, and there is no foothold; I have come into deep waters, and a flood overflows me. I am weary with my crying; my throat is parched; My eyes fail while I wait for my God.
Psalm 69:1-3
The Swamps
A bitter wind whipped across the Florida swamps as Wade, Jay, and Metro inserted into their dropzone. The frigid air caught them off guard – this wasn’t the balmy weather they’d expected from the panhandle. Their boots sank into the dark water, each step releasing bubbles of swamp gas that carried the scent of decay. As they began their five-day platoon operation, the cold crept beneath their wet uniforms, numbing fingers and clouding thoughts. The weight of their rucksacks seemed to increase with every passing hour, the straps digging into shoulders already raw from weeks of constant wear.
Wade and Jay found their rhythm quickly, their mountain phase experience serving them well. The endless hours spent navigating steep terrain had taught them to read the land, to find the path of least resistance even in this alien environment. They passed their patrols in the first two days, demonstrating the leadership and tactical prowess that had carried them this far. Each successful mission brought them closer to the tab they’d fought so hard to earn, their movements growing more confident with each passing hour.
Metro watched his friends lead, studying their techniques, waiting for his own chance to prove himself. He made mental notes of how Wade handled his troops, how Jay managed the tactical challenges that arose. The swamp seemed to resist their every move, but Metro remained determined, pushing through the discomfort with gritted teeth and steely resolve.
On the third day, the swamp seemed to come alive with malice. The water had turned to ice in their canteens, and the wind cut through their wet uniforms like razor blades. Each step brought a new challenge – hidden roots that threatened to snap ankles, sucking mud that tried to claim boots, the bone-deep chill that refused to relent. The platoon moved in silence, save for the occasional splash or muffled curse as someone lost their footing.
Hypothermia
Metro’s movements grew sluggish, his normally sharp eyes taking on a glazed look. Wade noticed first, seeing how his Ranger Buddy’s steps had become uncertain, how his responses to simple commands had slowed. Before he could intervene, Metro crumpled into the murky water, his body temperature plummeting to dangerous levels. The speed of his collapse shocked everyone – one moment he was trudging along with the rest of them, the next he was face-down in the swamp, his rifle half-submerged beside him.
“Medevac! Now!” Sergeant Hunt’s command cut through the swamp’s oppressive silence. His voice carried the weight of urgent authority, spurring the platoon into immediate action. As one of the students radioed for evacuation, Wade and Jay huddled around their fallen friend, their hearts pounding with fear they couldn’t afford to show. The rest of the platoon established a defensive perimeter, their training taking over despite their concern for their fellow Ranger.
Wade and Jay placed their hands on Metro’s shoulders and bowed their heads in prayer, just as they had during the mountain phase. Their whispered words seemed to carry through the chaos of the emergency response, a quiet counterpoint to the urgent radio traffic and Hunt’s rapid-fire orders. The cold seemed to intensify around them, as if the swamp itself was trying to claim Metro for its own.
Miraculous Healing
Then, like a scene from a revival tent, Metro’s eyes fluttered open. Color flooded back into his pale cheeks, starting as a faint pink and deepening to healthy warmth. He sat up, looking dazed but alert – a transformation so sudden it left even the hardened Sergeant Hunt speechless. The change defied medical explanation, but none could deny what they’d witnessed. Despite Metro’s miraculous recovery, Hunt insisted on protocol: “Still getting you checked out, Ranger. No exceptions out here.”
The platoon watched as Metro was evacuated, their faces showing a mixture of relief and lingering concern. Hunt used the moment as a teaching opportunity, gathering the Rangers for a quick class on cold weather injuries and the importance of buddy checks. The lesson was hardly necessary – seeing one of their own go down had driven the point home more effectively than any instruction could have.
At the infirmary, the Physician Assistant ran every test available, his confusion growing with each normal result. There was no trace of the hypothermia that should have put Metro in serious danger, no indication of the severe exposure that everyone had witnessed. The medical staff exchanged puzzled looks as they reviewed the results, unable to explain the rapid recovery.
When he rejoined Wade and Jay, Metro’s familiar grin had returned, though it couldn’t quite hide the lingering fatigue in his eyes. “Should’ve asked for half a healing,” he quipped, adjusting his gear. “A warm hospital bed wouldn’t have been so bad.” The joke broke the tension, drawing tired laughs from his friends, but they all knew how close they’d come to losing one of their own to the merciless swamp.
Communion in the Chaos
Back at Camp Rudder, the brief respite between operations drew the Rangers to an unexpected source of comfort – the chaplain’s service. The gathering was a stark portrait of Ranger School’s toll: gaunt faces, hollow eyes, bodies pushed far beyond normal limits. These were no longer the cocky Marines who’d started the course; exhaustion and challenge had stripped away all pretense, leaving only the raw essence of who they were.
The chapel itself was little more than a cleared space with folding chairs, but it felt like sanctuary to the weary Rangers. Many dozed off during the service, their bodies taking advantage of any chance to rest, but Wade and Jay remained alert, their recent experience with Metro still fresh in their minds. The chaplain moved among them as he spoke, his voice carrying to every corner of the room, speaking of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness.
He drew parallels to their own trials, speaking of hunger, exhaustion, and temptation. His words about using faith as a weapon against adversity resonated deeply with the assembled Rangers, at least the ones who were still awake. Each of them had faced their own demons during the course – moments of doubt, anger, and despair that tested not just their bodies but their spirits.
When communion came, the visual struck them all – their blackened, bleeding hands reaching for pure white wafers, dipping them in blood-red wine. The metaphor wasn’t subtle: purity meeting wretchedness, sacrifice meeting need. The Rangers moved forward one by one, each lost in their own thoughts, their own prayers. Some had tears in their eyes, though whether from exhaustion or emotion, none could say.
Droning Out
The final operation loomed before them – an 18-kilometer movement to assault an objective. Wade carried a secret: Sergeant Hunt had pulled him aside earlier, hinting at possible Distinguished Honor Graduate selection. This patrol would decide it, would determine if Wade had truly distinguished himself among his peers. But Wade kept quiet when his friends asked, deflecting with vague assurances about Hunt’s support for them all. The weight of potential honor sat uneasily on his shoulders, adding to the burden of leadership he already carried.
The march tested them in ways that made previous challenges seem mild in comparison. The cold returned with a vengeance, turning their uniforms into frozen shells that cracked with every movement. Exhaustion, hunger, and relentless terrain conspired to strip away coherent thought. Wade found himself leading his platoon in circles, lost in a hypothermic haze, until a Ranger Instructor had to take control. The night became a blur of stumbling steps and mumbled commands, each Ranger pushing forward on nothing but stubborn will and ingrained training.
The raid that followed was a lesson in humility. Confusion reigned as sleep-deprived Rangers struggled to maintain tactical coherence. Communications broke down, positions were missed, and friendly fire incidents peppered the operation. Their opponent, comprised of well-rested instructors, exploited every mistake with professional efficiency. What should have been a coordinated assault devolved into a series of disjointed actions, each team struggling to accomplish their part of the mission without clear understanding of the overall situation.
In the harsh debrief that followed, Wade knew his shot at Distinguished Honor Graduate had evaporated like morning mist over the swamp. But as he stood with Jay and Metro, listening to the instructors outline their failures, he felt something stronger than disappointment: brotherhood forged in shared struggle, hardened by common trial. The instructors’ words were sharp, but their eyes held understanding – they had all been where these Rangers were, had all faced the moment when exhaustion overcame training.
The Florida Phase had tested them in ways they never expected, forcing them to confront not just physical limitations, but the deeper questions of faith, leadership, and resilience. As they prepared for their final evaluation at the Zoo, they carried with them lessons learned in prayer and pain, in failure and friendship. The swamp had tried to break them, had nearly succeeded more than once, but they had emerged stronger, more humble, and more united than ever before.
Back to the Zoo
The transport that would carry them to their final challenge waited on the landing pad, its engines humming with promise and threat. As they boarded, each Ranger carried not just their physical gear, but the weight of experience earned in the merciless Florida swamps. They had learned that sometimes victory meant simply enduring, that leadership often meant admitting weakness, and that faith could manifest in ways that defied explanation. These were lessons that would serve them well in the challenges ahead, both at the Zoo and in the wider war that awaited them.
The interplanetary transport carved through the void of space, its hull vibrating with the nervous energy of its passengers. They would spend three days of recovery at Ramsey Station – days filled with hot meals and actual beds and then the Ranger students faced their final crucible: a platoon-sized live fire exercise in the heart of Carthis 7’s notorious “Zoo.” The name itself carried weight, spoken in whispers by veterans who’d survived its horrors.
Wade stood at rigid parade rest on the observation deck, his reflection ghostlike in the reinforced viewport. Below, Carthis 7 grew from a distant orb to a scarred monster of a world. Its surface told stories of endless conflict – impact craters from orbital bombardments, the twisted wreckage of alien war machines, and the ever-shifting ruins of what had once been thriving colonies. Beside him, Jay maintained his characteristic stoic demeanor, but Wade noticed the subtle tells of tension: the slight clench of his jaw, the tightening around his eyes, the way his fingers occasionally brushed the grip of his rifle.
The ship’s internal atmosphere recyclers hummed a constant backdrop to scattered conversations – each Ranger sharing Zoo stories with each other, tactical officers reviewing mission parameters, medical staff checking emergency protocols. The air felt thick with anticipation and barely contained fear.
“Gear up, ladies and gentlemen,” Sergeant Major Vickers’ command cut through the murmur like a plasma round through armor. “We touch down in five.” His voice carried the weight of experience – he’d survived the Zoo more times than most of the instructors combined. The cargo bay transformed into organized chaos as Rangers donned their cutting-edge combat armor, each piece a testament to humanity’s determination to survive in this hostile universe.
Metro worked with methodical precision at his communications gear, his new role as Radio Telephone Operator (RTO) demanding nothing less than perfection. He triple-checked every frequency, every backup system, every emergency protocol. In the Zoo, a failed comm link could mean more than mission failure – it could mean wholesale slaughter. The responsibility sat heavily on his shoulders, but his hands remained steady as they danced across the control panel and rest of his equipment.
The distinctive whir of armor servos filled the bay as Wade secured his final clasps. A hand landed on his shoulder – firm, confident. Captain Reynolds stood before him, the veteran Ranger Instructor’s face bearing scars from his own Zoo encounters. “Remember, Ranger Kovacs,” he said, voice pitched low but intense. “The principles you learned in the swamps and mountains back home apply just as much here. The tech may be state of the art, but leadership is leadership. Keep your head on straight, and bring your people home.”
Wade met his gaze steadily. “Yes, sir!” Two simple words carrying the weight of everything they’d learned, everything they’d survived to reach this point.
No More Blanks
The landing was surprisingly gentle for such a massive vessel, barely a shudder running through the deck plates as they touched down on Carthis 7’s reinforced landing pad. Camp Ramsey’s briefing room awaited them – a fortified bunker that had sheltered decades of Ranger classes. Wade gathered his platoon, their faces illuminated by the holographic tactical displays showing their target zone.
“Listen up, Rangers.” His voice carried the authority earned through months of training and trials. “We’ve got 12 hours to plan and rehearse before we hit our objective. We’ll be doing a Crazy-D insertion, landing 100 meters from the target.” The term ‘Crazy-D’ drew reactions – raised eyebrows, sharp intakes of breath. The Directed Descent insertion pods were notorious for their effectiveness and their brutality on the human body.
Metro’s eyebrow arched. “Crazy-D? That’s going to be one heck of a ride.” His voice carried a mix of professional concern and barely concealed excitement.
“You got that right,” Wade confirmed, turning to Jay. “I’ll need your squad ready for immediate suppression as soon as we hit ground. Those first thirty seconds will make or break us.” Jay nodded, already running scenarios in his head, calculating fields of fire and support positions.
The next twelve hours dissolved into intense preparation. The platoon immersed themselves in intelligence reports, studying satellite imagery that showed the ever-shifting landscape of the Zoo. They analyzed terrain models, marking kill zones and likely ambush points. Every scenario was run, every contingency planned for, every possible failure point identified and addressed.
Urban combat was challenging enough – but in the Zoo, it became a nightmare of alien aggression and hostile biology. Bombed out buildings held their own cruel danger for the careless, streets that might suddenly become death traps, and an enemy that understood the terrain with a home field advantage. The Rangers adapted their Earth-learned tactics, modern tech, and incorporating hard-won knowledge from previous Zoo experiences.
As insertion time approached, Wade gathered his platoon for final instructions. The briefing room had grown quiet, charged with pre-mission tension. “Remember your training,” he said, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. “Keep your tactical intervals, watch your sectors, and keep comms clear. We hit hard and fast. Questions.” The silence that answered him spoke volumes – they were ready, as ready as humans could be for what awaited them.
The Crazy-D drop lived up to its reputation. Each impact felt like a controlled crash, the compensation systems barely managing to keep the occupants conscious as they slammed into Carthis 7’s surface. Hatches hissed open to reveal the Zoo in all its terrible glory – a maze of broken buildings and twisted metal under an alien sky, the air itself seeming to pulse with malevolent energy.
Wade’s mind raced through final mission checks as his platoon deployed with practiced precision. Their objective burned in his thoughts: a suspected Skravak nest, buried deep in the urban wasteland. Intelligence suggested a major hive, one that had to be eliminated before it could spread further.
“Alright, listen up!” His voice carried across the assembly area, cutting through the last whispers of conversation. “We move out in five minutes. Jay, you’re on point. Metro, stick close – I need that comms link rock solid. The rest of you know your roles. Stay frosty, watch your sectors, and remember your training. Let’s show these bugs what the Confederation’s finest are made of.” The responding “Oorah!” echoed off broken walls, a sound of human defiance in this alien territory.
The Tactical Advantage
Their advance through the Zoo’s labyrinthine streets set every nerve on edge. The silence felt wrong, broken only by the crunch of debris under armored boots and distant, inhuman screams that set teeth on edge. Wade’s enhanced HUD constantly updated with tactical data – squad positions, vital signs, threat assessments. Every step could trigger an ambush, every shadow could hide death.
The attack came without warning. “Contact front!” The call crackled through comms an instant before pulse rifles opened up, their distinctive whine mixing with the alien shrieks of their targets. Wade’s training took over, his voice steady as he coordinated the response to the Skravak ambush. The firefight transformed into a deadly dance of plasma bolts and alien hungry maws snapping at Rangers moving with mechanical precision through their practiced maneuvers.
“Jay! Take second squad and flank left!” Wade’s orders cut through the chaos of battle. “Metro! I need air support on these coordinates—danger close!” Metro’s fingers flew across his comm panel, relaying the call for fire support with practiced efficiency. Moments later, the sky erupted as orbiting Thunderhawk gunships responded, their heavy weapons turning Skravak positions into craters of molten rock and alien gore.
The battle seemed to last forever, a constant push deeper into enemy territory. Wade lost count of how many times he’d called for fire support, how many times he’d redirected squads to shore up weak points in their advance. Through it all, Jay remained their anchor, his steady presence and accurate fire providing the stability they needed as chaos threatened to overwhelm them.
As they approached their primary objective – a massive structure of twisted metal and faracrete rubble that housed the Skravak nest – Wade felt ice form in his gut. The resistance had been fierce, but something in his battle-honed instincts screamed that worse was coming. The building itself seemed to pulse with malevolent life, its half-collapsed form a monument to the horrors that awaited within.
“All units, this is Rock Six,” he broadcast across the platoon net, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his system. “We’re approaching the target building – expect heavy resistance! Jay, get your squad in overwatch positions! Everyone else, prepare to breach and clear on my mark.”
What followed was pure combat chaos, a blur of violence and instinct. Wade led the charge into the alien hive, grateful for every punishing hour spent in Earth’s swamps and mountains. The leadership principles drilled into them became lifelines, allowing him to direct his forces through the fog of war with decisive clarity. Every lesson learned, every hardship endured, every prayer uttered – all of it culminated in these crucial moments.
When silence finally fell, Wade stood in the heart of the destroyed hive, chest heaving in his armor. Around him, Rangers moved with professional efficiency, securing the area, tending to the wounded, documenting their kills. They had done it – eliminated the Skravak nest without losing a single Ranger. The mission was an unqualified success, a testament to their training and determination.
Outside the shattered husk of the hive, Wade felt pride surge through him as he looked over his platoon. They had faced humanity’s nightmare and emerged victorious, their bonds forged stronger than ever in the fires of combat. Staff Sergeant Hunt’s gruff voice cut through their moment of triumph: “Outstanding work, Rangers. You’ve proven yourselves worthy of the tab. But don’t get cocky – this was just a taste of what real combat holds.”
Hunt’s words brought a sobering silence. Wade exchanged glances with Jay and Metro, seeing his own mix of pride and grim determination reflected in their eyes. They had earned their place among the Rangers, but this was just the beginning.
The transport ride back to Earth buzzed with excited discussion about what lay ahead – advanced exploration training, flight school, and most headed to assignments in the various Ranger Regiments leveraging their skills in the ongoing war against the Skravak threat. Wade settled into his seat, mind racing with possibilities as Carthis 7 shrank behind them. He allowed himself a small smile, knowing they had survived the Zoo and emerged stronger. The road ahead would be hard, but they would face it together, as brothers in arms forged in the fires of Earth and tempered in the alien battlefields of distant worlds.
Their Ranger tabs would mean more than just completing a school now – they represented humanity’s determination to survive, to push back against the darkness that threatened their species. Whatever challenges the galaxy held in store, they were ready to face them, one mission at a time.
In those days the crowd once again became very large, and they had nothing to eat. Then Jesus called His disciples to Him and said, “I have compassion for this crowd, because they have already been with Me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may faint along the way.” For some of them have come a great distance.” The disciples replied, “Where in this desolate place could we find enough bread to feed such a large crowd?” “How many loaves do you have?” Jesus asked. “Seven,” they replied, “and a few small fish.” And He instructed the crowd to sit down on the ground. Taking the seven loaves and the fish, He gave thanks and blessed them and broke them. Then He gave them to His disciples to set before the people. And they distributed them to the crowd. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up seven basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. A total of four thousand men were fed, in addition to women and children. After Jesus had dismissed the crowds, He got into the boat and went to the region of Magadan, the district of Dalmanutha.
My Thoughts
This is the second time Jesus fed thousands of people. The first time the people’s motives were exposed as superficial and certainly not spiritually oriented. Jesus put His finger dead in their hearts with this saying;
“Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek Me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled.”
OUCH! So they were there for the free fish and chips and to fill their gullets. But that’s not the end of the story. And during that first feeding…things went from bad to worse. He drops the “eat My flesh and drink My blood” bombshell on them and He disintegrates a mega-church to a small group in a single day.
So why is Jesus feeding the crowd again?! The people’s motives were probably the same. I can think of two reasons. The first is explicit, Jesus has compassion for them. Jesus’ motives were crystal clear on this, He loved the people. He loved them enough to feed them, heal them, and teach them (even if some of His teaching included hard truths). This was not a transactional relationship and is profoundly evident by His willingness to do it a second time.
The second observation is not as evident and like many of Jesus’ discipleship techniques, it’s kind of hidden under the miraculous. Jesus uses repetition to teach His disciples crucial lessons. Later He would remind them of these two events and chide them for not getting it. (Matthew 16:5-12)
This is why I jokingly say there are three ways to learn;
Repetition
Bluntforce Trama
And Repetitive Bluntforce Trama
So as we are becoming more like Jesus in our disciple-making, are we becoming more compassionate? Are we willing to teach the same lessons over and over again? These are two key ways we can emulate the Master.
My Story
Just the other day I was using these two elements in my disciple-making efforts. I asked Mike and Perla to join Deb and I as we engaged with some fellow laborers at a retreat. We sat down at the table with some folks and went into the “mentoring mode.” As I thumbed through my Bible, asked questions about how Jesus would define discipleship, and how He made disciples, the couple was watching me help others. I was multiplying spiritual food from the Word of God and they watched us feed these hungry souls.
I could tell that one of the couples sitting around the table was discouraged because their ministry efforts weren’t panning out quite like they expected. Compassion was pulling at my pastoral heart strings. I shifted gears and gave appropriate verses to encourage them and then we prayed.
This whole time I was modeling for Mike and Perla. They had heard almost everything I was dropping on the others before, so it was nothing new. But repetition was helping the concepts sink deeper into their hearts and minds. And I had the chance to show some compassion in the process.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Are you and those you are discipling showing compassion and modeling it for others
Are you teaching sessions as a “One and Done” type of thing or are you “Recycling” to make it stick
Do a study on God’s repeated themes in the Scriptures (Warning: This is going to take you a while 🙂 )
Jesus’ second miracle of feeding thousands shows His enduring compassion and His knack for teaching through repetition, reminding us that discipleship is all about love and learning through repetition. Let’s follow His lead by showing compassion and recycling lessons until they stick.
Lecciones de Panes, Peces y Refritos – #107
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo y Marcos para ver qué motivó a Jesús a alimentar a miles una vez más.
Comencemos.
Mateo 15:32-39, Marcos 8:1-10
En aquellos días, la multitud volvió a ser muy numerosa y no tenían qué comer. Entonces Jesús llamó a sus discípulos y les dijo: «Tengo compasión de esta multitud, porque ya llevan tres días conmigo y no tienen qué comer. No quiero despedirlos con hambre, no sea que desfallezcan en el camino». Algunos de ellos han venido desde muy lejos. Los discípulos respondieron: «¿Dónde, en este lugar desolado, podríamos encontrar suficiente pan para alimentar a tanta gente?». «¿Cuántos panes tienen?», preguntó Jesús. «Siete», respondieron, «y unos pocos pececillos». Y mandó a la multitud que se sentara en el suelo. Tomó los siete panes y los peces, dio gracias, los bendijo y los partió. Luego los dio a sus discípulos para que los sirvieran al pueblo. Y ellos los repartieron a la multitud. Todos comieron y se saciaron, y los discípulos recogieron siete cestas llenas de los pedazos que sobraron. Se alimentó a un total de cuatro mil hombres, además de mujeres y niños. Después de despedir a la multitud, Jesús subió a la barca y se dirigió a la región de Magadán, en el distrito de Dalmanuta.
Mis Pensamientos
Esta es la segunda vez que Jesús alimenta a miles de personas. La primera vez, se expuso que las motivaciones de la gente eran superficiales y, ciertamente, no espirituales. Jesús les clavó el dedo en el corazón con estas palabras:
“De cierto, de cierto os digo que me buscáis, no porque habéis visto señales, sino porque comisteis el pan y os saciasteis”.
¡Ay! Así que estaban allí por el pescado con patatas fritas gratis y para saciarse. Pero ese no es el final de la historia. Y durante esa primera alimentación… las cosas fueron de mal en peor. Les suelta la bomba de “comed mi carne y bebed mi sangre” y desintegra una megaiglesia en un pequeño grupo en un solo día.
Entonces, ¿por qué Jesús alimenta a la multitud otra vez? Las motivaciones de la gente probablemente eran las mismas. Se me ocurren dos razones. La primera es explícita: Jesús siente compasión por ellos. Sus motivaciones eran clarísimas: amaba a la gente. Los amó lo suficiente como para alimentarlos, sanarlos y enseñarles (aunque algunas de sus enseñanzas incluían verdades difíciles). Esta no era una relación transaccional y se evidencia profundamente en su disposición a repetirlo.
La segunda observación no es tan evidente y, como muchas de las técnicas de discipulado de Jesús, se esconde tras lo milagroso. Jesús usa la repetición para enseñar a sus discípulos lecciones cruciales. Más tarde, les recordaría estos dos eventos y los reprendería por no haberlos comprendido. (Mateo 16:5-12)
Por eso digo en broma que hay tres maneras de aprender:
Repetición
Trauma contundente
Y Trauma contundente repetitivo
Así que, a medida que nos asemejamos más a Jesús en nuestro discipulado, ¿nos volvemos más compasivos? ¿Estamos dispuestos a enseñar las mismas lecciones una y otra vez? Estas son dos maneras clave de emular al Maestro.
Mi Historia
Justo el otro día usaba estos dos elementos en mi labor de hacer discípulos. Les pedí a Mike y a Perla que se unieran a Deb y a mí mientras conversábamos con algunos compañeros en un retiro. Nos sentamos a la mesa con otras personas y entramos en modo mentoría. Mientras hojeaba mi Biblia, hacía preguntas sobre cómo Jesús definiría el discipulado y cómo hacía discípulos, la pareja me observaba ayudar a otros. Multiplicaba el alimento espiritual de la Palabra de Dios y ellos nos observaban alimentar a estas almas hambrientas.
Me di cuenta de que una de las parejas sentadas a la mesa estaba desanimada porque sus esfuerzos ministeriales no estaban dando los resultados que esperaban. La compasión me conmovía profundamente como pastor. Cambié de tema y les compartí versículos apropiados para animarlos, y luego oramos.
Durante todo este tiempo, les estaba dando un ejemplo a Mike y a Perla. Ya habían escuchado casi todo lo que les decía a los demás, así que no era nada nuevo. Pero la repetición ayudaba a que los conceptos calaran más profundamente en sus corazones y mentes. Y tuve la oportunidad de mostrar algo de compasión en el proceso.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicar. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
¿Tú y quienes discipulas muestran compasión y la modelan para los demás?
¿Enseñas de una sola vez o reciclas para que perdure?
Estudia los temas recurrentes de Dios en las Escrituras (Advertencia: Esto te llevará un tiempo 🙂).
El segundo milagro de Jesús al alimentar a miles muestra su compasión inagotable y su habilidad para enseñar mediante la repetición, recordándonos que el discipulado se trata de amor y aprendizaje mediante la repetición. Sigamos su ejemplo mostrando compasión y reciclando lecciones hasta que perduren.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
“I will raise my eyes to the mountains; from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He will not allow your foot to slip; He who watches over you will not slumber.”
Psalm 121:1-3
High Highs & Low Lows
The crunch of boots against frozen earth echoed through the pre-dawn darkness as Wade’s team executed their airfield seizure. His breath formed small clouds in the bitter mountain air, a stark reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. The operation had gone smoothly – too smoothly, he thought, exchanging knowing glances with Metro. In Ranger School, easy beginnings often heralded the harshest trials.
The austere beauty of Camp Frank D. Merrill stretched before them, dwarfed by the looming heights of the Georgia mountains. Wade’s boots crunched through a carpet of fallen leaves and pine needles as he and Metro made their way to the assembly area on Mosby. An unusual stillness had settled over the gathered Rangers, the typical chaos of training replaced by an anticipatory quiet that seemed to pulse with its own energy.
The approach of the Ranger Instructors drew every eye. Their weathered faces told stories of countless seasons spent in these unforgiving mountaintops. The lead RI stepped forward, and Wade braced himself for the familiar bark of command. Instead, the instructor’s voice carried across the formation with an almost contemplative tone.
“Welcome to the mountain phase, Rangers.” His words held none of the typical drill instructor fury. “We do things differently here. We don’t need to smoke you – the mountains and weather will extract their pound of flesh for us.” He gestured toward a cluster of crude wooden structures. “Those are your quarters. Basic, but you’ll be begging for them when you hit the TVD. Each hut has a pot-belly stove. Master it, or the cold will be unforgiving.”
As the company dispersed, Wade’s heart nearly stopped. There, framed in a hut doorway, stood a ghost from his past – Jay, his friend who had recycled the mountain phase. Joy and concern warred in Wade’s chest at the sight of his friend’s familiar face.
“Jay!” The name escaped before Wade could stop himself. He quickly corrected, “I mean, Ranger Owens!” The slip felt like sandpaper on his tongue. Security protocols demanded they maintain their cover identities, even here.
Jay’s eyes widened in recognition. “Wade? I mean… Ranger Smith!” They both froze, acutely aware of their mistake.
Metro’s gaze darted between them, his expression a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Wade could almost hear the gears turning in Metro’s head, filing away this interaction for future reference.
Inside the hut, Wade found himself surrounded by history written in permanent ink. Every surface bore the marks of Rangers who had come before – names, units, and dates scrawled wherever space allowed. His fingers traced over the faded writing:
Ranger Dugway, 1/75, 2-2358, “The Frozen Chosen”
Ranger Hathaway, 4/75, 6-2304, “Death from Above”
Ranger Huong, 3/75, “Pain is just weakness leaving the body.”
Even markings from before the Military Consolidation Act of 2362 remained, like whispers from the past:
Ranger Wood, 2/75, 9-2279, “The Last Hard Class”
The weight of tradition pressed down on Wade’s shoulders as he stowed his gear. These walls held decades of triumph and failure, of dreams realized and shattered. Metro appeared equally affected, his usual sharp wit temporarily silenced by the gravity of their surroundings.
An RI’s shadow darkened the doorway. “Listen up, Rangers.” His voice carried the weight of experience. “The next five days will test you in ways you can’t imagine. It’s not just about endurance anymore – it’s about mastering the climb. You’ll learn basic mountaineering skills here at Camp Merrill, then it’s on to Mount Yonah for advanced climbing techniques.” A grim smile crossed his weathered face. “Remember this: it’s not the fall that’s going to kill you. It’s that sudden stop at the bottom. We call it rock poisoning.”
As the RI’s footsteps faded, Metro turned to Wade, his eyes narrowing. “So, Smith,” he said, emphasizing the last name with subtle emphasis. “Looks like you’ve got a friend here. Care to share how you two know each other so well?”
Wade’s mind raced through possible responses, weighing the delicate balance between trust and operational security. The bond between Ranger candidates was sacred, but so were the protocols that kept them safe. He opted for a partial truth, letting sincerity color his voice. “We served together briefly before Ranger School. Didn’t expect to see him here.”
Metro nodded slowly, his expression suggesting he knew there was more to the story but was willing to let it rest – for now. Outside their window, the mountains loomed silent and indifferent, their creasts disappearing into the gathering clouds of late fall.
Mountaineering
The next morning dawned crisp and clear, sunlight filtering through the pines as Wade and his fellow Rangers gathered for their first day of mountaineering training. The instructors wasted no time with pleasantries, diving straight into the complexities of knot tying and rope bridge construction. Sleep-deprived fingers fumbled with unfamiliar patterns, the importance of each knot emphasized by the instructors’ stern reminders of what failure could cost.
“Recon for Jaws!” The unexpected command cut through the morning air. Confusion rippled through the group until understanding dawned – they were about to become intimately acquainted with the icy stream that cut through the lower mountaineering area. The shock of submersion sent electricity through Wade’s nerves, chasing away any lingering fatigue with brutal efficiency.
Shivering and alert, they faced their next challenge – the 60-foot cliff that would serve as their introduction to rappelling. Wade’s prosthetic hand gripped the rope as he approached the edge, the instructor’s earlier warning echoing in his mind: “It’s not the fall that’ll kill you, it’s the sudden stop at the bottom.”
The first lean back into empty space set his heart racing, trust in equipment and training warring with instinct. The Australian rappel came next, forcing them to face the ground as they descended – a technique that demanded not just skill but the courage to embrace the counter-intuitive. Wade found himself grinning despite the challenge, adrenaline singing through his veins as he mastered each new technique.
The buddy evacuation rappel proved the most demanding challenge yet – both physically and mentally. Wade found himself harnessed to Metro’s back, the combined weight of their bodies and gear straining against the rope as they descended awkwardly down the cliff face. Every movement required precise coordination; a single misstep could send them both spinning out of control.
Mount Yonah brought new challenges and moments of transcendent beauty. The 120-foot night rappel under a full moon transformed the ordinary into something almost mystical. Wade hung suspended between earth and sky, the moonlight painting the Georgia mountains in shades of silver and shadow. The rope hummed softly through his hands as he controlled his descent, each breath visible in the cold mountain air. For a brief moment, the weight of his mission, his false identity, and even his separation from Kristin seemed to fall away, leaving only the pure focus of the present moment.
The primitive nature of their climbing gear added an extra edge to every evolution. Modern safety systems had been deliberately excluded from the training, forcing them to rely on basic equipment and technique. When a Marine from another squad suffered severe “rock rash” after his belay man failed to check his descent quickly enough, the harsh scraping sound and his cry of pain served as a visceral reminder of the consequences of complacency.
On their final night at Mount Yonah, the Ranger Chaplain held a service that offered a welcome respite from the physical demands of training. The chaplain’s voice carried across the gathering of exhausted Rangers, his words finding purchase in their weary spirits as he shared the story of the paralytic and his four faithful friends.
“Now, these guys,” the chaplain began, a hint of humor in his voice, “they weren’t afraid of a little property damage to accomplish the mission – tearing through that roof to get their friend to Jesus!” The tired Rangers chuckled, finding familiar echoes of their own determination in the ancient tale.
The chaplain’s expression grew more thoughtful. “But here’s what really strikes me about this story, Rangers. Before Jesus dealt with the man’s obvious physical need, He addressed something deeper – his spiritual condition. As you push your bodies to the limit here, don’t neglect what’s happening in your spirits.”
Wade found his eyes drawn to Jay during the service, remembering their shared experiences aboard the Skravak ship. They had seen horrors that would haunt them forever, yet here they were, still pushing forward, still fighting. The chaplain’s words about spiritual healing resonated deeply with Wade’s own journey over the past two years.
The next morning brought a sharp wind and the knowledge that their time at Mount Yonah was ending. As the Rangers broke camp and prepared for their descent, Wade, Jay, and Metro exchanged fist bumps – a gesture that carried more weight than words could express. Their shared experiences had forged a bond that transcended their cover identities, even if they couldn’t speak of it openly.
The Back Story
The terrain model took shape under Wade and Jay’s careful hands, a miniature representation of Hawk Mountain emerging from carefully placed rocks and twigs. The task offered a rare opportunity for conversation, though both men kept their voices low and their eyes on their work.
“Still can’t believe what happened at New Quantico,” Wade murmured, his prosthetic hand placing a small marker with precise care. “Feels like a lifetime ago, but it’s only been a few weeks.”
Jay nodded, his focus seemingly on the model but his mind clearly elsewhere. “I heard about it while I was still en route to Ranger School. Security team boarded our transport after refueling on Mars. Next thing I know, I’m ‘Frederick Owens,’ newly promoted sergeant, continuing on my way here.” He paused, adding quietly, “They said I’d get further instructions after graduation… if I graduate.”
Wade looked up from the terrain model, studying his friend’s face. “What do you mean, ‘if’? You seem different this time around – stronger, more focused.”
Jay’s hands stilled over the model. “I failed two patrols in my last class,” he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of past disappointment. “That’s why they recycled me in the mountain phase. I was trying too hard to be everyone’s friend, to be the nice guy. My fellow Rangers didn’t respond to that approach, and I paid the price for it.”
“Sounds rough,” Wade said softly, understanding flooding his features. “Leadership isn’t always about being liked.”
“That’s exactly it.” Jay’s fingers traced the contours of their miniature mountain. “I’ve been wrestling with this tension between being a Christian and being a warrior-leader. How do you love your neighbor while pushing them beyond their limits? How do you balance compassion with the aggression this job demands?”
Wade considered this, remembering the chaos of New Quantico. “Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is push people to be their best,” he offered. “Even when they hate you for it in the moment.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Metro’s approach. His footsteps faltered as he neared the model, his eyes widening with sudden recognition. “Wait a minute… I know who you are,” he breathed, glancing between Wade and Jay. “You’re two of the Marines who broke open the Skravak conspiracy!”
The air seemed to freeze between them. Wade straightened slowly, his posture shifting almost imperceptibly into a more guarded stance. “That’s right,” he confirmed quietly. “But we’d appreciate it if you could keep that information to yourself, Metro.”
Metro nodded eagerly, though his excitement was visible. “Of course, of course. But… the news feeds were buzzing about what you did for weeks! The infiltration, the rescued prisoners…”
“The feeds don’t tell the whole story,” Jay cut in, his voice carrying an edge that made Metro’s enthusiasm fade. “What we saw on that ship…” He shuddered, memories flickering behind his eyes.
“We found hundreds of humans in stasis,” Wade explained, his voice barely above a whisper. “Men, women, children… all being kept as food. The stench of that place, the darkness…” He shook his head, unable to continue.
Metro’s face had lost its color. “I knew it was bad, but… I had no idea.”
“That’s why what we’re doing here matters so much,” Wade said, gesturing to the terrain model. “We need every edge we can get to end this war. And that’s why our involvement needs to stay quiet. We can’t afford any distractions.”
Metro straightened, newfound respect evident in his bearing. “You have my word. But… thank you. For what you did, and what you’re still doing.”
The conversation shifted back to the mission at hand, but something had changed between the three Rangers. A deeper understanding had been forged, rooted in shared purpose and mutual respect.
As they finished the terrain model, Ranger Metropax gathered the section for the operations order. The raid on the observation post atop Hawk Mountain would be their first test as a unit. Weather reports warned of an incoming storm system, adding another layer of complexity to an already challenging mission.
“This is going to be a hard one to start with,” Metro addressed the patrol, his voice steady despite the gravity of the task ahead. “But I’m confident if we all do our job and stay motivated, we’ll succeed. We move out at 1800 hours. Hit time is 02.”
The Ascent
Dusk painted the mountains in deepening shades of purple as the Rangers assembled for movement. The bank of dark clouds rolling in from the west promised more than just rain – it carried the threat of a mountain storm that could turn their already challenging mission into a battle for survival.
Wade adjusted his ruck one final time, the weight settling against his shoulders like an old enemy. His arm ached where the prosthetic hand met flesh, the cold already seeping into the connection point. He pushed the discomfort aside, focusing instead on the mission ahead. Beside him, Jay moved with a newfound confidence that spoke of lessons learned through failure and redemption.
The silence of their initial movement was broken only by the soft crunch of boots on rocky ground and the occasional muted clink of equipment. As they began their ascent of the Tennessee Valley Divide (TVD), the first scattered raindrops struck their faces – harbingers of the misery to come.
Within an hour, the weather transformed their world into a cold, wet torture. The rain, driven by gusting winds, seemed to find every gap in their wet weather gear. The steep terrain became treacherous, each step requiring careful placement to avoid a potentially fatal slip. What had started as a tactical movement was rapidly becoming a test of raw endurance and will.
Wade found his thoughts turning to Kristin as he pushed through the pain. The ache in his shoulder had become a constant companion, intensifying with every step. The cold seemed to have a particular hatred for his prosthetic, the connection point feeling like ice against his flesh. Yet in this struggle, he found a strange comfort – every step up this mountain was a step toward proving himself worthy of the sacrifice she had unknowingly made.
Jay moved through the darkness with purpose, his movements exhibiting none of the hesitation that had marked his previous attempt at the mountain phase. His voice, when he spoke to check on his team members, carried the quiet authority of someone who had finally found the balance between leadership and compassion.
Metro called a halt as they reached what felt like the halfway point, though in the darkness and driving sleet, distance had become an abstract concept. The Rangers huddled against the mountainside, checking maps and trying to conserve what little warmth remained in their bodies. The Ranger Instructors stood like sentinels in the storm, their stoic endurance a silent challenge to the struggling students.
The sleet intensified, the icy particles stinging exposed skin like tiny needles. Wade watched his breath form ghost-like clouds in the beam of his red-lens flashlight as he checked his map. The op-order replaying in his head, its words burned into his memory: raid, capture, report. Simple objectives made desperately complicated by terrain and weather.
Pressing On
The final days of mountain phase tested them in ways none had expected. The weather never improved, seeming instead to find new ways to make them miserable. Sleep deprivation played tricks with their minds – shadows became enemy patrols, rocks transformed into living creatures, and sometimes took on the eerie shapes of the Skravaks themselves. Yet through it all, Wade, Jay, and Metro found strength in their shared struggle and unwavering faith.
Their bodies shed weight at an alarming rate, uniforms hanging loose where they had once been tight. The constant physical exertion combined with minimal food created a hunger that became another test of will. Yet somehow, the hardship forged stronger bonds between them. They learned to read each other’s needs without words, to offer support before it was requested.
When word finally came of their successful completion of the mountain phase, the three Rangers shared a moment of quiet triumph. There was no energy for celebration – their bodies and minds were too depleted for anything more than grateful acknowledgment. They had survived the mountains, but they all knew that another challenge awaited them in the swamps to the south.
As they prepared for movement to the Florida phase, Wade caught Jay’s eye across the assembly area. They shared a look that contained volumes – pride in their accomplishment, recognition of how far they’d come, and determination for what lay ahead. Metro joined them, and no words were needed as they gathered their gear. They had conquered the mountains together, and the swamps, however daunting, would face the same unified front.
The mountains had changed them, stripping away pretense and revealing the core of who they were as Rangers and as men. As their transport arrived to carry them south, Wade took one last look at the Georgia mountaintops. They had entered the mountain phase as individuals seeking to prove themselves. They would leave it as brothers, forged in the crucible of cold, wet, and endless vertical challenges.
The swamps awaited, bringing their own unique brand of misery. But for now, they had earned the right to move to the next phase, and that knowledge would carry them through whatever hardship lay ahead.
Then Jesus left the region of Tyre and went through Sidon and went along the Sea of Galilee and into the region of the Decapolis. Then He went up on a mountain and sat down. Large crowds came to Him, bringing the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute, and many others, and laid them at His feet, and He healed them.
Some people brought to Him a man who was deaf and hardly able to speak, and they begged Jesus to place His hand on him. So Jesus took him aside privately, away from the crowd, and put His fingers into the man’s ears. Then He spit and touched the man’s tongue. And looking up to heaven, He sighed deeply and said to him, “Ephphatha!” (which means, “Be opened!”). Immediately the man’s ears were opened and his tongue was released, and he began to speak plainly. Jesus ordered them not to tell anyone. But the more He ordered them, the more widely they proclaimed it.
The people were utterly amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled restored, the lame walking, and the blind seeing. They said, “He has done all things well! He makes even the deaf hear and the mute speak!” And they glorified the God of Israel.
My Thoughts
Remember the last time Jesus was in this region? (Matthew 8:28-34, Luke 8:26-39, Mark 5:1-20) Jesus had healed some men possessed by a legion of demons, drowned a herd of pigs, and was shooed off by a bunch of freaked out people. The crowd couldn’t get rid of Jesus fast enough. Now we see throngs of people (probably Jews and Gentiles alike) showing up to be healed by Jesus. The people had gone from “Freaked Out” to “Focused In.” So now they can’t say enough good things about Jesus!
So what made the difference? One man’s testimony. One of the men delivered from demons went to the Decapolis (10 cities) and told them everything God (Jesus) had done for him just as the Lord had instructed him. (Luke 8:38-39) Apparently, this infamous man’s story and radical transformation was enough to convince people who were originally scared spitless to not only trust Jesus to heal them but gave Him their overwhelming stamp of approval.
Never underestimate the impact of someone’s personal testimony paired with a lifestyle that supports it! As disciple-makers, it’s crucial that we equip those we mentor to share their story in a concise and compelling manner, highlighting the gospel of the kingdom.
My Story
For years, my wife Deb and I have been teaching people how to share a simple testimony with the gospel at its core. We’ve developed a method that we use to teach this important skill. Here’s a link to what we teach. Over the past 15 years, I’ve had the privilege of sharing my story with thousands of people – and that’s not an exaggeration.
In all that time, I’ve kept track of how many people have declined to hear my story. The number might surprise you: only 11. Most of those were apologetic, citing a lack of time rather than a lack of interest.
One of my most memorable experiences occurred in Tokyo’s Shibuya Crossing, arguably one of the busiest and most chaotic places on Earth. I called out to a Japanese man riding a bike and listening to earbuds, asking if I could tell him my story. To my amazement, he stopped, removed his earbuds, and in excellent English said, “Of course.” This unconventional approach worked because it’s perhaps the simplest, most non-threatening way to share the gospel.
There have been occasions where I’ve approached someone to share my story, only to realize I had already shared with them before. Twice, guys told me they had started attending church and reading their Bible as a result of our previous conversation. I made sure to remind them that my goal was to point them towards Jesus.
While I can’t claim to have led vast numbers of people to salvation, I can say with certainty that sharing the gospel has brought me incredible joy and radically transformed my own life. All of this stems from obeying a simple command: “Go and tell them all the good things God has done for you”.
And as for that Japanese man on the bike in Shibuya Crossing? He gave his life to Christ as Lord and Savior that day. It’s a powerful reminder that God can work in the most unexpected places and circumstances when we’re willing to share our story.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Develop a personal 1-2 minute testimony that has the gospel clearly articulated in it
Develop a simple, Biblical, reproducing method to train others to share their 1-2 minute story
Make a list of all the people you associate with and set a goal to share your story with all of them
The power of personal testimony, when paired with a transformed life, can have a profound impact on others and lead to unexpected opportunities for sharing the gospel. By equipping ourselves and those we mentor with concise, compelling stories that highlight the gospel of the kingdom, we can effectively spread the message of Christ and potentially transform lives, just as the healed man’s testimony changed the hearts of an entire region.
El poder de su historia – #106
¡Bienvenidos nuevamente! Hoy, analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo y Marcos para ver los resultados del testimonio de un hombre.
Comencemos.
Mateo 15:29-31, Marcos 7:31-37
Luego Jesús dejó la región de Tiro y pasó por Sidón, y bordeando el mar de Galilea, llegó a la región de Decápolis. Luego subió a un monte y se sentó. Grandes multitudes acudieron a Él trayendo a cojos, ciegos, lisiados, mudos y muchos otros enfermos; los pusieron a sus pies y los sanó.
Le trajeron a un hombre sordo y casi sin habla, y le rogaron que pusiera la mano sobre él. Jesús lo tomó aparte, apartado de la multitud, y metió los dedos en los oídos del hombre. Luego escupió y le tocó la lengua. Y levantando los ojos al cielo, suspiró profundamente y le dijo: «Effatá» (que significa: «Ábrete»). Al instante se le abrieron los oídos y se le soltó la lengua, y comenzó a hablar claramente. Jesús les ordenó que no se lo dijeran a nadie. Pero cuanto más les ordenaba, más lo divulgaban.
El pueblo se quedó estupefacto al ver que los mudos hablaban, los lisiados recobraban la salud, los cojos andaban y los ciegos veían. Decían: «Todo lo ha hecho bien; hace oír a los sordos y hablar a los mudos». Y glorificaban al Dios de Israel.
Mis Pensamientos
¿Recuerdas la última vez que Jesús estuvo en esta región? (Mateo 8:28-34, Lucas 8:26-39, Marcos 5:1-20) Jesús había sanado a unos hombres poseídos por una legión de demonios, había ahogado una manada de cerdos y un grupo de personas asustadas lo había echado. La multitud no podía deshacerse de Jesús lo suficientemente rápido. Ahora vemos multitudes de personas (probablemente judíos y gentiles por igual) que se presentan para ser sanadas por Jesús. La gente había pasado de estar “asustada” a estar “concentrada”. ¡Así que ahora no pueden decir suficientes cosas buenas sobre Jesús!
Entonces, ¿qué hizo la diferencia? El testimonio de un hombre. Uno de los hombres liberados de los demonios fue a la Decápolis (10 ciudades) y les contó todo lo que Dios (Jesús) había hecho por él tal como el Señor le había instruido. (Lucas 8:38-39) Aparentemente, la historia de este hombre infame y su transformación radical fueron suficientes para convencer a las personas que originalmente estaban muertas de miedo no solo de confiar en que Jesús los sanaría, sino que también le dieron su abrumadora aprobación.
¡Nunca subestimes el impacto del testimonio personal de alguien acompañado de un estilo de vida que lo respalde! Como hacedores de discípulos, es crucial que equipemos a aquellos a quienes asesoramos para que compartan su historia de una manera concisa y convincente, resaltando el evangelio del reino.
Mi Historia
Durante años, mi esposa Deb y yo hemos estado enseñando a las personas cómo compartir un testimonio sencillo con el evangelio como eje central. Hemos desarrollado un método que utilizamos para enseñar esta importante habilidad. Aquí hay un enlace a lo que enseñamos. Durante los últimos 15 años, he tenido el privilegio de compartir mi historia con miles de personas, y no es una exageración.
En todo ese tiempo, he llevado un registro de cuántas personas se han negado a escuchar mi historia. La cifra puede sorprenderle: solo 11. La mayoría de ellos se disculparon, citando falta de tiempo en lugar de falta de interés.
Una de mis experiencias más memorables ocurrió en el cruce de Shibuya de Tokio, posiblemente uno de los lugares más concurridos y caóticos de la Tierra. Llamé a un hombre japonés que iba en bicicleta y escuchaba con auriculares y le pregunté si podía contarle mi historia. Para mi asombro, se detuvo, se quitó los auriculares y, en un inglés excelente, dijo: “Por supuesto”. Este enfoque poco convencional funcionó porque es quizás la manera más simple y menos amenazante de compartir el evangelio.
Ha habido ocasiones en las que me he acercado a alguien para compartir mi historia, solo para darme cuenta de que ya la había compartido con esa persona antes. Dos veces, los chicos me dijeron que habían comenzado a asistir a la iglesia y a leer su Biblia como resultado de nuestra conversación anterior. Me aseguré de recordarles que mi objetivo era guiarlos hacia Jesús.
Si bien no puedo afirmar que haya guiado a una gran cantidad de personas a la salvación, puedo decir con certeza que compartir el evangelio me ha traído una alegría increíble y ha transformado radicalmente mi propia vida. Todo esto se debe a obedecer un simple mandato: “Ve y cuéntales todas las cosas buenas que Dios ha hecho por ti”.
¿Y en cuanto a ese hombre japonés en la bicicleta en el cruce de Shibuya? Él entregó su vida a Cristo como Señor y Salvador ese día. Es un poderoso recordatorio de que Dios puede obrar en los lugares y circunstancias más inesperados cuando estamos dispuestos a compartir nuestra historia.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es el momento de la aplicación. Aquí hay algunas ideas:
Desarrolle un testimonio personal de 1 a 2 minutos que articule claramente el evangelio
Desarrolle un método simple, bíblico y reproducible para capacitar a otros para que compartan su historia de 1 a 2 minutos
Haga una lista de todas las personas con las que se relaciona y establezca una meta para compartir su historia con todas ellas
El poder del testimonio personal, cuando se combina con una vida transformada, puede tener un profundo impacto en los demás y conducir a oportunidades inesperadas para compartir el evangelio. Al equiparnos a nosotros mismos y a aquellos a quienes asesoramos con historias concisas y convincentes que resalten el evangelio del reino, podemos difundir eficazmente el mensaje de Cristo y potencialmente transformar vidas, tal como el testimonio del hombre sanado cambió los corazones de toda una región.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
2 Samuel 7:11b-16 – The Dual Nature of Prophecy: Iniquity, Kingdom, and Christ’s Eternal Reign
Introduction: The Davidic Covenant’s Prophetic Depth
The prophecy in 2 Samuel 7:11b-16 presents a fascinating dual nature1, applying both to Solomon and Jesus the Messiah. This passage, known as the Davidic Covenant, establishes God’s promise to David regarding his royal lineage and the eternal nature of his kingdom.
Linguistic Foundations: Understanding Iniquity
The Hebrew word for “iniquity” used in this passage is “עָוֹן” (avon, Strong’s H5771), which carries the meaning of perversity, depravity, or guilt. This term is crucial in understanding the dual application of the prophecy.
In the immediate context, God promises David that He will establish the kingdom of his son (Solomon) and that this son will build a house for God’s name. The prophecy then states, “When he commits iniquity, I will correct him with the rod of men and the strokes of the sons of men”. This clearly applies to Solomon, who, despite his wisdom, did indeed fall into sin later in his life.
However, the prophecy extends beyond Solomon to the ultimate fulfillment in Jesus Christ. The promise of an eternal kingdom and throne (v. 13, 16) points to a greater reality than Solomon’s reign. Jesus, as the perfect Son of David, fulfills this prophecy in a way that transcends its initial application to Solomon.
Theological Significance: Bearing Iniquity
The concept of “iniquity” takes on profound significance when applied to Jesus. Unlike Solomon, Jesus did not commit iniquity.He never sinned (Hebrews 4:15, 1 John 3:5, 2 Corinthians 5:21). Instead, He bore the iniquity of others. Isaiah 53:6 states, “The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all”. This vicarious bearing of iniquity is central to Jesus’ messianic role and His establishment of an eternal kingdom.
Divine Kingship: Righteousness Embodied
Jesus’ sinlessness and His bearing of others’ iniquities reveal key aspects of God’s character and redemptive plan. While Solomon’s reign foreshadowed Christ’s kingdom, Jesus perfectly embodies the ideal king who rules in righteousness. His kingship is not marred by personal sin but is characterized by taking on the sins of His people.
Eternal Kingdom: Beyond Temporal Limitations
The eternal nature of the kingdom promised in 2 Samuel 7 finds its true fulfillment in Christ. Jesus’ resurrection and ascension establish Him as the eternal king, seated at the right hand of the Father. His kingdom, unlike Solomon’s, will truly have no end.
Redemptive Plan: God’s Unfolding Purpose
This prophecy illuminates the expansive nature of God’s redemptive plan. What began as a promise to David regarding his son Solomon unfolds into a grand narrative of salvation history, culminating in Christ. It demonstrates God’s faithfulness across generations and His ultimate purpose of establishing an eternal kingdom through His Son.
Transformative Implications: Living in the Kingdom
For believers, this concept of Christ bearing our iniquities while establishing an eternal kingdom is transformative. It offers assurance of forgiveness and participation in an unshakeable kingdom. As we recognize Jesus as the perfect fulfillment of this prophecy, we are called to live as citizens of His kingdom, reflecting His righteousness and participating in the expansion of His reign on earth.
Prophetic Fulfillment and Spiritual Reality
The dual nature of this prophecy in 2 Samuel 7, particularly focusing on the concept of iniquity, reveals the intricate interweaving of immediate historical fulfillment and ultimate messianic realization. It points us to Jesus as the perfect king who, rather than committing iniquity, bears it on behalf of His people, establishing an eternal kingdom of righteousness and peace.
Disciple-Maker’s Short Story
After Sermon Confusion
The vinyl booth squeaked as Jerry settled in beside his wife Claire at Chang’s Garden, their usual post-service haunt. Across the booth, Bill fidgeted with his paper napkin, folding and unfolding it while his wife Anne studied the menu she’d memorized months ago. The familiar scent of ginger and garlic wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the quiet murmur of other after-church diners.
“So,” Jerry began, noting the troubled expression on Bill’s face, “Pastor Mike’s sermon on Second Samuel really got you thinking, didn’t it?”
Bill set down his crumpled napkin. “Yeah, actually. I’m… well, I’m confused.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice despite the relative privacy of their corner booth. “The passage talks about David’s son committing iniquity, right? But if this is supposed to be about Jesus, how does that work? I mean, Jesus was sinless. Everyone knows that.”
Anne reached for Bill’s hand under the table, her own brow furrowed. “That’s what’s bothering me too. It feels like a contradiction.”
Claire exchanged a knowing glance with Jerry. They’d been mentoring the younger couple for almost a year now, and these moments of genuine wrestling with scripture were becoming more frequent – and more precious.
A server appeared with steaming cups of tea, and Jerry waited until she’d moved away before responding. “You know,” he said, warming his hands around his cup, “I had the exact same question when I first encountered that passage. But there’s something beautiful happening here that I’d love to share with you.”
“Please,” Anne said, abandoning all pretense of studying the menu.
“The prophecy in Second Samuel is like a painting with two layers,” Claire added, stirring honey into her tea. “The first layer shows Solomon – David’s immediate son who would build the temple. He did commit sin, and God did correct him, just as the prophecy said.”
Jerry nodded. “But there’s a deeper layer that points to Jesus. Think of it like… remember how last month we talked about those Magic Eye pictures? How you have to look through the surface pattern to see the hidden image?”
Bill’s eyes lit up with understanding. “So Solomon is the surface pattern, and Jesus is the hidden image?”
“Exactly,” Claire smiled. “And here’s where it gets really interesting with the ‘iniquity’ part. Solomon committed his own sins, but Jesus – though completely sinless himself – bore our iniquities. He took them upon himself.”
The server returned to take their orders, and Anne used the interruption to process this new perspective. After rattling off their usual selections, she leaned in. “So when the prophecy talks about iniquity, with Jesus it’s not about Him sinning, but about Him carrying our sins?”
“That’s it,” Jerry confirmed. “Isaiah puts it beautifully in chapter 56 verse 3: ‘The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.’ Same word, different context. Solomon needed correction for his own sin, but Jesus voluntarily took on our punishment.”
Bill sat back, his earlier agitation replaced with wonder. “That’s… that’s incredible actually. It makes me want to be more like Him – not just avoiding sin, but being willing to bear others’ burdens.”
“Even when they don’t deserve it,” Anne added softly, squeezing Bill’s hand.
Claire’s eyes lit up, “That’s exactly what makes His kingdom eternal, while Solomon’s was temporary. Jesus’s perfect love and sacrifice establish something that transcends human failings.”
The arrival of their food created a natural pause in the conversation, but as Jerry watched Bill and Anne exchange glances full of new understanding, he knew the real feast wasn’t the Chinese food being set before them. It was the deeper grasp of Christ’s character taking root in their hearts.
As they began to eat, the afternoon light streaming through Chang’s Garden’s windows seemed to glow a little brighter, illuminating not just their corner booth but the truth they’d uncovered together: that in the mystery of dual prophecy lay the beauty of a love willing to bear what others deserved, transforming confusion into clarity and doubt into devotion.
Biblical prophecies occasionally demonstrate a dual nature, finding both immediate and ultimate fulfillments. The Davidic Covenant in 2 Samuel 7:11b-16 applies to Solomon and Jesus, with the concept of “iniquity” highlighting Christ’s sinless reign. God’s promise to David about his son building a house for God was initially fulfilled by Solomon but ultimately by Jesus’ eternal kingdom. Isaiah’s Immanuel prophecy had an immediate application in Isaiah’s time but found its true fulfillment in Christ’s virgin birth. Joel’s prophecy of the Holy Spirit’s outpouring manifested at Pentecost but awaits a final, end-times realization. Jesus’ prophecy of the “abomination of desolation” saw partial fulfillment in 70 AD but points to future events. These examples illustrate how biblical prophecies occasionally have near-term, partial fulfillments and long-term, complete realizations in Christ, revealing the multi-layered nature of God’s prophetic word and His redemptive plan throughout history. ↩︎
But He said to them, “I have food to eat that you do not know about…My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me and to accomplish His work.”
John 4:32 & 34
Scavenge to Survive
There was no centralized issue facility in Ranger School. The students were taken to abandoned structures and vehicles where antique equipment, ammunition, and rations were cached. Once they identified the cache, they had to determine the priority of what to take or leave. Wade’s squad was taken to a landing pad where a dilapidated UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter stood as a silent sentinel on the sun-baked tarmac of Camp Darby. Its faded paint and patches of rust were a stark contrast to the pristine olive drab uniforms of the assembled Ranger students. The once-proud war machine now served as a testament to the enduring legacy of Ranger training, even in this era of advanced technology. First Sergeant Miller’s voice boomed across the area, silencing the nervous chatter of the students.
“Listen up, Rangers! This relic is about to become your home for the next few hours. Welcome to the Darby Phase, where you’ll learn to improvise, adapt, and overcome using methods that have stood the test of time.”
Wade smiled, a mix of anticipation and determination in his eyes. Beside him, Ranger Metropax shifted nervously, his lanky frame dwarfed by the lifeless hulk that used to be a helicopter.
“Think they’ll let us fly it, Smith?” Metropax whispered, joking with his buddy.
Smith chuckled, shaking his head. “Not a chance, Metro. It’d take a miracle to get this baby off the ground again.”
The Rangers were divided into squads and tasked with scavenging gear from the helicopter’s interior. As they clambered into the cabin, the smell of stale fuel and dust filled their nostrils. Smith and Metropax found themselves in the cargo compartment, surrounded by olive drab canvas bags and wooden crates.
As they assembled their rucksacks and load-bearing equipment, Wade felt a connection to the Rangers who had come before him. “These packs were state-of-the-art back then,” Smith explained, showing Metropax how to adjust the straps. “They’ll do the job if you know how to use them.” They stuffed their rucks to the hilt with the necessary blank ammunition, rations, and other gear. They were surprised that the ancient backpack could hold over a hundred pounds if packed correctly.
The Darby Queen
First Sergeant Miller’s voice echoed in their minds as they navigated the challenging terrain. “This phase will test your ability to plan, prepare, and execute reconnaissance patrols. You’ll be evaluated on your leadership skills, your tactical proficiency, and your ability to work as a team. But first, you gotta make it through the Darby Queen.”
The infamous Darby Queen Obstacle Course, a grueling test of physical endurance and mental fortitude, consisted of 20 obstacles spread over a mile of uneven, hilly terrain.
As Wade approached the course, he could feel the eyes of the instructors upon him. He knew that his performance here would be a critical factor in his overall evaluation. Taking a deep breath, he launched himself into the first obstacle.
The course was a blur of rope climbs, wall scales, and log carries. Wade’s muscles screamed in protest as he pushed himself to the limit. His prosthetic hand, usually an asset, didn’t seem to present any advantage to the unique challenge as he navigated the obstacles.
Beside him, Metropax struggled with a particularly difficult rope climb. Without hesitation, Smith paused to offer encouragement and advice. “Keep going, Metro,” he called out. “Use your legs, not just your arms. You’ve got this!”
Metropax nodded, gritting his teeth as he redoubled his efforts. Together, they pushed through the pain and fatigue, crossing the finish line with nothing left in the tank.
As they collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, Wade felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see First Sergeant Miller standing over them, a rare smile on his weathered face.
“That’s what I like to see,” Miller said. “Rangers never leave a man behind. You two exemplify the spirit of this course.”
Recon
The next morning, the Rangers set out on their first patrol. The Georgia pines towered above them, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of pine needles and damp earth. They moved in tactical “V” formations, their boots crunching on fallen leaves and twigs.
The Rangers faced a series of graded patrols, each one designed to test a different aspect of their training. They conducted far and near reconnaissance missions and even participated in a simulated dropship operation.
When it was Smith’s turn to lead, he felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. He gathered his squad, issuing the warning order and assigning roles. As he spoke, he could see the trust in his teammates’ eyes. They were ready to follow him into the unknown.
As they pushed deeper into the forest, Wade recalled the fast-paced instruction they had received on troop leading procedures and principles of patrolling. Now, it was time to put that knowledge into practice.
The squad came to a halt at the edge of a clearing. Wade, who had been designated as squad leader for this patrol, gathered his fellow Rangers around him. “Alright, listen up,” he said in a low voice. “We’ve got a recon mission. Our objective is to gather intel on an enemy position about two klicks northeast of here.”
He quickly issued the operation order, assigning roles and responsibilities to each team member. Metropax would be the point man, leading the way with his keen eye for detail and natural instinct for navigation.
As they moved out, Wade felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He knew that his performance as a leader would be scrutinized not only by the instructors but also by his peers. The peer evaluation system was a crucial component of Ranger School, ensuring that only those who could earn the respect and trust of their fellow Rangers would advance.
The patrol moved silently through the underbrush, each Ranger hyper-aware of their surroundings. Suddenly, Metropax raised his fist, the signal to freeze. Then he motioned for Ranger Smith to move forward to join him.
“Whatcha got?” Wade whispered.
Metropax pointed to his ear. “Vehicle up ahead,” he murmured. “You can barely hear it. It must be on the dirt road here on the map.”
It was obvious that the Op-FOR (Opposing Forces, a simulated enemy unit) was patrolling the roads, looking for any unsuspecting Ranger students.
Smith nodded, his mind racing as he assessed the situation. This unexpected development could complicate their mission, but it also presented an opportunity to demonstrate their tactical awareness and adaptability.
“Good catch, Metro,” Smith whispered. “We’ll stay on azimuth, but stay alert. They’re probably looking for us but we found them first.”
They moved to their objective rally point, posted security, and performed a leader’s recon to get the lay of the land and confirm the location of the objective. Wade knew that if the Op-FOR were to discover them, he would automatically fail his patrol. Reconnaissance wasn’t something you could shoot your way out of. It took the utmost stealth and cunning, and by no means could they be discovered or compromised. The RI, Sergeant Kilby, looked on, scrutinizing Ranger Smith’s every move.
As Wade scoped out the area, he noticed a tall tree about 300 meters from the objective with a large open area between the two. Wade signaled to Metropax and whispered, “If I could climb the tree with my binos, I could probably get a pretty good look at the objective.”
Metropax looked concerned. “That’s pretty unorthodox, Smith. No one mentioned tree climbing in any of our training. You think the RI will go for it?”
Wade thought for a moment. “Well… if we have security posted, don’t violate any principles, and get all the priority intelligence requirements… I can’t see why not.”
Metropax grimaced but complied.
They slowly moved to the tree, and Wade had his men cover their three, six, and nine o’clock positions at the base. The RI looked at Wade and asked, “Ranger Smith, what in the world are you doing?”
“I’m going to climb this tree and do my recon from here,” Wade said with very little conviction.
The RI raised one eyebrow and shook his head. “Well Ranger, it’s YOUR patrol.”
Wade and Metropax glanced at each other, displaying their fear that this may have been a stupid idea.
It was an easy climb to get about 20 feet above the ground, but there was little concealment. Wade held his breath, hoping and praying the Op-FOR would never suspect such an unorthodox approach to reconnaissance. If they spotted him, it would be a No Go for sure.
He nervously jotted in his notebook the number of personnel, weapons and their types, structures and vehicles, and drew a simple sketch, remembering to annotate the compass heading and distances. He scrambled back down the tree and whispered to his men, “Let’s get the heck out of here!”
They moved most of the night and finally set up a patrol base eight kilometers from the objective, making double sure they weren’t followed. The RI changed the leadership positions, and Wade and Metropax moved to the perimeter to keep watch and pull security. It was 0330 in the morning, and they would each trade positions to get one hour of sleep before “stand to.”
The hours passed too quickly. It was as though they hadn’t slept at all. The RI called Wade to the center of the perimeter to counsel him on his performance the day before. Wade was almost certain the Sergeant didn’t approve of his harebrained idea.
“Ranger Smith, how do you think you did on your recon?” he asked with a blank face.
Wade was so sleepy, he had to pinch himself to stay alert enough to answer the RI’s question. “Well, Sergeant… I don’t think it was by the book… but I didn’t violate any principles that I know of?”
The RI let Wade stew a moment before he addressed the weary Ranger. “Well, Ranger… This is the first time I have ever seen a recon done like a monkey. Very unorthodox, indeed… But you are correct. You didn’t violate any principles of patrolling, and you retrieved all the priority intel requirements. Not only am I going to give you a Go on your patrol, I want you to sign this major positive spot report for initiative and ingenuity.”
Wade sat there dumbfounded. The RI snapped his fingers in front of Wade’s face. “Well Ranger, are you going to sign this or not?!”
Wade quickly snatched the pen from the RI’s grip. “Oh, uh, yes, Sergeant! Roger that!”
A new set of RIs replaced the old ones, and a new day of relentless trudging through the Georgia terrain continued. But Ranger Smith had the assurance he was going to the next phase, the mountains, if he just didn’t do anything dumb in the next few days.
Hallucinations
As they continued their patrols, the physical and mental strain began to take its toll. The Rangers had been operating on minimal sleep and limited rations, pushing their bodies and minds to the limit. This grueling regimen was designed to assess their physical stamina and mental toughness, key attributes of a Ranger.
By the fifth day of patrols, fatigue had set in hard. Smith found himself battling hallucinations brought on by sleep deprivation. As they moved through a particularly dense thicket, he swore he saw leopards leaping across his path. He blinked hard, forcing himself to focus and clear his head.
Beside him, Metropax was faring no better. During a brief rest halt, Smith watched in bemused concern as his friend stumbled toward a nearby tree, fumbling with imaginary coins.
“I could really go for a Snickers,” Metropax mumbled, his voice slurred with exhaustion as he attempted to insert the non-existent currency into what he perceived as a vending machine.
Wade gently pulled Metropax away from the tree. “Come on, buddy,” he said, his voice a mixture of amusement and concern. “Let’s get some shut-eye. We’ll be back on patrol soon enough.”
Despite their exhaustion and hallucinations, Smith and Metropax pressed on. They had learned to rely on each other, to draw strength from their shared determination. This bond, forged in the furnace of Ranger School, was as vital to their success as any tactical skill they had learned.
Driving On
As the days wore on, the challenges intensified.
The mission was a success, with the squad achieving their objectives and exfiltrating without detection. As they regrouped at the designated rally point, Smith could see the exhaustion on his teammates’ faces, but also the glimmer of satisfaction in their eyes. They had faced a challenge and overcome it together.
The final week of the Darby Phase brought a series of increasingly complex reconnaissance missions. But they had finally finished, each having passed their patrols. As the Rangers prepared for their transition to the Mountain Phase, there was a foreboding sense of anticipation in the air.
On their last night at Camp Darby, Smith and Metropax sat by a small pup tent in the dark, reflecting on their journey. The moonlight cast shadows across their faces, highlighting the changes wrought by their experiences.
“You know, Smith,” Metropax said, his voice quiet but steady, “I wasn’t sure I had what it took when we started this. But now…” He trailed off, gesturing at the camp around them.
Smith nodded, understanding the unspoken sentiment. “We’ve come a long way, Metro. But this is just the beginning. The Mountain Phase is going to push us even harder.”
As they sat in companionable silence, Wade pulled out his pocket New Testament and started reading, illuminating the pages with his red lens flashlight. His thoughts drifted to the challenges that lay ahead. The Mountain Phase, conducted in the rugged terrain near Dahlonega, Georgia, would test their skills in a whole new environment. They would face steep ascents, treacherous descents of the Tennessee Valley Divide (the TVD), and the constant battle against the elements.
But as he looked at Metropax, Wade felt a surge of conviction. He had not shared his faith with his Ranger buddy. “Metro, can I pray and ask God to help us make it through the mountain phase?”
Metro looked at Wade matter-of-factly. “Absolutely, Ranger buddy… if you think it will help.”
Wade gave a curious glance over his shoulder. “Have you ever heard the gospel?”
Metro looked skyward, pondering the question. “No… Don’t think I have.”
Wade leaned back on his ruck. “This book tells the story of God’s love for us and how we have all rebelled against Him in spite of that love. But God, our creator, didn’t reject us for our rebellion but actually leaned into it by sending His Son, Jesus Christ, to die for us. His death satisfied the penalty we should have paid for our own wrongdoing. The Bible calls this wrongdoing sin. And the penalty for sinning against God is death. But like I said, He sent His Son to pay that penalty for us by dying on a cross. But He didn’t stay dead. In three days, He rose from the dead to prove He is the King over everything, including death. And now He sits at the right hand of God pleading our case to God.”
Metro’s face twisted. “And you believe this?!”
“Well, yes… but not at first. But once I opened myself to learning more about Him and His love, God started showing Himself to me in very crazy ways.”
“Well… no offense, but that’s what it’s going to take for me… I mean… I need some proof.” Metro leaned back and looked to the sky again. “You can certainly pray for that and that we will make it through the mountains.”
They both laid back to get some sleep under the stars. Wade looked at the brilliant expanse and prayed for Metro and himself. He prayed for Kristen and remembered to lift up Jay as well. The prayer was simple, short, and sincere. Then before he could say Amen, sleep overwhelmed him.
High Altitude Insertion
The next morning, as they prepared to board the awaiting Thunderhawk dropships that would take them to the Mountain Phase, First Sergeant Miller addressed the Rangers one last time. He gave a briefing about their extreme high altitude insertion into Mosby Army Airfield, at Camp Merrill, the mountain phase.
“You’ve proven yourselves worthy to move to the next phase,” First Sergeant Miller said, his voice carrying across the assembly area. “But your journey is far from over. The mountains will test you in ways you can’t imagine. Remember your training, trust in your Ranger buddies, and never, ever quit.” Miller continued, “This next insertion… nothing new to you, you’ve all been through Dropship Insertion School and you’ve all got a few Extreme High Altitude drops under your belts. Your mission is an airfield seizure and making the insertion from the edge of space into Mosby Army Airfield.” A few Rangers exchanged nervous glances. Miller let the weight of his statement sink in and continued.
“Mosby is a 400-meter-long grass strip, barely enough room to land a bird, let alone 30 drop pods. You will be jumping from 120,000 feet, retro-assisted fall for over three minutes, reaching speeds of over 600 miles per hour. You’ll have to rely on your equipment and your training to guide you safely to the ground.” He paused, his eyes scanning the faces of the Rangers. “This is not a simulated drop. This is the real deal. The Op-FOR will be waiting for you, and you’ll need to be prepared to fight as soon as you hit the ground.”
“Any questions?” Miller asked.
The Rangers shook their heads, their faces grim with confidence. They had come too far to have second thoughts now.
“Good,” Miller said. “Get your gear and board the birds. We launch in 30 mikes.”
The Rangers boarded the dropships that would take them to the edge of the atmosphere and then the Mountain Phase, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within them.
As the Thunderhawk ascended and the Rangers entered their drop pods, Smith looked out the viewport and watched as the Earth shrunk beneath him. The curve of the planet was clearly visible, and he could see the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. The sky above was a deep, inky black, studded with stars. Wade remembered feeling this small and insignificant on the first drop in DIS. Yet, at the same time, he felt an exhilarating sense of freedom. He was on the edge of space, about to embark on one of the best thrill rides the military had to offer.
The RI acting as the Drop Master came over the comms. “Approaching drop altitude. Get ready!”
Wade took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could feel the dropship slowing as it reached its final altitude. Then, the order came: “Green light! DROP!” The pods exploded to the side and the initial moments of freefall were disorienting. Wade felt weightless, as if he were floating in a dream. The Rangers had entered the void. Suddenly the retros fired to begin their descent.
He could see the Earth rushing towards him, but it seemed to take forever to get closer. He knew he was falling at an incredible speed, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like he was suspended in time. Then, the atmosphere began to thicken. Wade could feel the air resistance building, slowing his descent. The G-forces pressed up on him, making it difficult to breathe.
Wade fought the blood rushing to his head, focusing on his training. He could see the airstrip and the drop zone rushing up to meet him. This was it… the Mountain Phase.
Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Matthew and Mark to see how Jesus responded to persistent faith and how He modeled rhythms of rest.
Leaving that place, Jesus withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. Not wanting anyone to know He was there, He entered a house, but was unable to escape their notice. Instead, a Canaanite woman from that region whose little daughter had an unclean spirit soon heard about Jesus, and she came and fell at His feet. Now she was a Greek woman of Syrophoenician origin, and she kept asking Jesus to drive the demon out of her daughter, saying “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is miserably possessed by a demon.”
But Jesus did not answer a word. So His disciples came and urged Him, “Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.” He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” The woman came and knelt before Him. “Lord, help me!” she said. But Jesus replied, “First let the children have their fill. It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.” “Yes, Lord,” she said, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” “O woman,” Jesus answered, “your faith is great! Because of this answer you may go and let it be done for you as you desire.” And she went home and found her child lying on the bed, and the demon was gone and she was healed from that very hour.
My Thoughts
I want to draw your attention to two insights from this passage. One is most commonly written about and the other a little bit more obscure but just as important.
The first is the woman whose daughter was tormented by a demon. She was a Gentile and outside of the scope of Jesus’ targeted ministry. She was a pest and the disciples were begging Jesus to get rid of her. After all, they were on vacation enjoying the beach (more on that in my second insight). Jesus finally addresses the woman with what could have only been received as an insult;
“First let the children have their fill. It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”
Did Jesus just call this lady a dog? That’s how I would have taken it! But notice her humility and faith. She doesn’t get mad and storm off. She doesn’t call the cops for what could have been perceived as a racial slur (AKA hate speech). No, she humbly bows before the King of kings and wisely presents her petition in a way that Jesus cannot ignore;
“Yes, Lord,” she said, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”
Now there are a few things that really get Jesus excited and one of them is extraordinary faith. (Remember the centurion who had more faith than anyone in israel? Matthew 8:5-13) Yes, although this woman was not part of the focus group and even a bother, Jesus was compelled to honor her request. Now that says a lot about how much joy God gets when we really trust Him and place our faith in Him! By the way, when you compare the two, I’d rather be called a dog than a sheep. Just saying.
On to the second insight. Notice where Jesus was – Tyre and Sidon. And notice why He was there – “Not wanting anyone to know He was there.” Wait, what? Is Jesus taking a break? You better believe He was! And the district Tyre and Sidon is a coastal region on the Mediterranean. Could Jesus have been spending time on the beach? Why not? I can just hear the disciples gasp when they see the vastness of the Med compared to their “Sea of Galilee.” Here’s my question; Why would it be so incredibly hard to believe that Jesus and His men were taking a vacation? I mean, think about the pace they were keeping. Even when Jesus suggested that they “Come away by themselves to a secluded place and rest a while.” 5000 people showed up to dinner. They were keeping a hectic schedule, frequently going without meals themselves. (Mark 6:31)
As often as Jesus was wrongfully chastised for violating the law of rest you’ve got to believe the Lord of the Sabbath would show us how to take a break. He actually goes on retreat at least two more times to be alone with His disciples. (Mark 8:27, John 11:54)
My Story
We built a 10×10 cabin on the backside of our property for the purpose of having a place to get away and spend time with God in solitude. We had some folks visit our place and we gave them the grand tour of our property and the “Quiet Time Cabin.” Later we found out that the cabin was jokingly renamed the “Shack of Shame.” It was supposed to be a joke but you know what they say, “A joke is just a veiled way to say what you’re really thinking.”
You have to ask the question, “Why would our friends be adverse to a place of rest and contemplation?” Well, one, these were Paratroopers and Special Forces folks and they rest when they die. And secondly, hard core disciple-makers are not known for taking rest seriously. And then again, neither were the children of Israel.
But as I look at Jesus taking a nap during a storm, the Omnipotent Father resting on the seventh day of creation, and the penalty for breaking the Sabbath in the Old Testament (look it up, it’s the same as witchcraft, sorcery, and adultery), I’m pretty convinced that God is serious about rest. It’s only for our own good and we’d do well to “Take 5” on a regular basis.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for some applications. Here’s some ideas;
As a disciple-maker, are you looking for people with extraordinary faith, even if it’s outside your “ministry target?”
Talk to those you are discipling and come up with a profile of someone with extraordinary faith
Do a personal inventory – Do you have an adequate rest rhythm?
In reflecting on Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite woman and His retreat to Tyre and Sidon, we see the importance of persistent faith and the value of rest in our lives. By embracing these lessons, we can deepen our trust in God and cultivate a healthier balance between ministry and rest, just as Jesus modeled for us.
La señora del perro en la playa – 105
¡Bienvenidos nuevamente! Hoy, analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo y Marcos para ver cómo respondió Jesús a la fe persistente y cómo modeló ritmos de descanso.
Comencemos.
Mateo 15:21-28, Marcos 7:24-30
De allí partió Jesús y se fue a la región de Tiro y Sidón. No queriendo que nadie supiera que estaba allí, entró en una casa, pero no pudo pasar desapercibido. En cambio, una mujer cananea de aquella región, cuya hijita tenía un espíritu inmundo, oyó hablar de Jesús, y fue y se postró a sus pies. Era una mujer griega de origen sirofenicio, y le pedía que expulsara al demonio de su hija, diciendo: «Señor, Hijo de David, ten compasión de mí; mi hija está miserablemente poseída por un demonio».
Pero Jesús no respondió ni una palabra. Entonces sus discípulos se acercaron y le rogaron: «Despídela, porque sigue gritando detrás de nosotros». Él respondió: «Sólo a las ovejas perdidas de la casa de Israel fui enviado». La mujer se acercó y se arrodilló ante Él. «Señor, ayúdame», le dijo. Pero Jesús le respondió: «Primero deja que los niños se sacien. No está bien tomar el pan de los hijos y echárselo a los perros. Ella le respondió: «Sí, Señor, hasta los perros comen debajo de la mesa las migajas que caen de la mesa de sus amos». Jesús le respondió: «Mujer, ¡qué grande es tu fe! Por esta respuesta puedes irte y que se cumpla lo que deseas». Cuando volvió a su casa, encontró al niño acostado en la cama; el demonio había desaparecido y ella quedó sana desde aquel mismo momento.
Mis Pensamientos
Quiero llamar su atención sobre dos ideas de este pasaje. Una es la más comúnmente escrita y la otra un poco más oscura pero igual de importante.
La primera es la mujer cuya hija estaba atormentada por un demonio. Ella era gentil y estaba fuera del alcance del ministerio de Jesús. Era una plaga y los discípulos le rogaban a Jesús que se deshiciera de ella. Después de todo, estaban de vacaciones disfrutando de la playa (más sobre eso en mi segunda idea). Jesús finalmente se dirige a la mujer con lo que solo podría haber sido recibido como un insulto:
“Deja primero que los hijos se sacien. No está bien tomar el pan de los hijos y echarlo a los perros”.
¿Jesús acaba de llamar a esta mujer perro? ¡Así es como lo habría tomado yo! Pero note su humildad y fe. Ella no se enoja y se va furiosa. Ella no llama a la policía por lo que podría haber sido percibido como un insulto racial (también conocido como discurso de odio). No, ella humildemente se inclina ante el Rey de reyes y sabiamente presenta su petición de una manera que Jesús no puede ignorar;
“Sí, Señor”, dijo ella, “hasta los perrillos comen debajo de la mesa las migajas que caen de la mesa de sus amos”.
Ahora bien, hay algunas cosas que realmente entusiasman a Jesús y una de ellas es una fe extraordinaria. (¿Recuerdas al centurión que tenía más fe que nadie en Israel? Mateo 8:5-13) Sí, aunque esta mujer no era parte del grupo de enfoque e incluso una molestia, Jesús se vio obligado a honrar su pedido. ¡Eso dice mucho sobre cuánto gozo obtiene Dios cuando realmente confiamos en Él y ponemos nuestra fe en Él! Por cierto, cuando comparas los dos, prefiero que me llamen perro que oveja. Solo lo digo.
Pasemos a la segunda idea. Observa dónde estaba Jesús: Tiro y Sidón. Y observa por qué estaba allí: “No quería que nadie supiera que estaba allí”. Espera, ¿qué? ¿Jesús se está tomando un descanso? ¡Será mejor que creas que lo estaba! Y el distrito de Tiro y Sidón es una región costera del Mediterráneo. ¿Podría haber estado Jesús pasando tiempo en la playa? ¿Por qué no? Casi puedo oír a los discípulos jadear cuando vieron la inmensidad del Mediterráneo en comparación con su “Mar de Galilea”. Mi pregunta es: ¿por qué sería tan increíblemente difícil creer que Jesús y sus hombres se estaban tomando unas vacaciones? Piensen en el ritmo que llevaban. Incluso cuando Jesús sugirió que “se retiraran a un lugar solitario para descansar un poco”, 5000 personas se presentaron a cenar. Tenían un horario muy apretado y con frecuencia se quedaban sin comer. (Marcos 6:31)
Por más que Jesús fuera injustamente reprendido por violar la ley del descanso, hay que creer que el Señor del sábado nos mostraría cómo tomar un descanso. De hecho, se retira al menos dos veces más para estar a solas con sus discípulos. (Marcos 8:27, Juan 11:54)
Mi Historia
Construimos una cabaña de 10×10 en la parte trasera de nuestra propiedad con el propósito de tener un lugar para alejarnos y pasar tiempo con Dios en soledad. Tuvimos algunas personas que visitaron nuestra propiedad y les mostramos un recorrido por nuestra propiedad y la “cabaña del tiempo de silencio”. Más tarde descubrimos que la cabaña había sido rebautizada en broma como “la cabaña de la vergüenza”. Se suponía que era una broma, pero ya sabes lo que dicen: “Una broma es solo una forma velada de decir lo que realmente estás pensando”.
Tienes que hacerte la pregunta: “¿Por qué nuestros amigos serían reacios a un lugar de descanso y contemplación?” Bueno, en primer lugar, estos eran paracaidistas y miembros de las Fuerzas Especiales y descansan cuando mueren. Y en segundo lugar, los hacedores de discípulos incondicionales no son conocidos por tomarse el descanso en serio. Y, por otra parte, tampoco lo eran los hijos de Israel.
Pero cuando veo a Jesús durmiendo la siesta durante una tormenta, al Padre Omnipotente descansando en el séptimo día de la creación y el castigo por quebrantar el Sabbath en el Antiguo Testamento (búscalo, es lo mismo que la brujería, la hechicería y el adulterio), estoy bastante convencido de que Dios se toma en serio el descanso. Es solo para nuestro propio bien y haríamos bien en descansar de forma regular.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es el momento de aplicar algunas ideas. Aquí hay algunas:
Como hacedor de discípulos, ¿está buscando personas con una fe extraordinaria, incluso si está fuera de su “meta ministerial”?
Hable con aquellos a quienes está discipulando y elabore un perfil de alguien con una fe extraordinaria.
Haga un inventario personal: ¿tiene un ritmo de descanso adecuado?
Al reflexionar sobre el encuentro de Jesús con la mujer cananea y su retiro a Tiro y Sidón, vemos la importancia de la fe persistente y el valor del descanso en nuestras vidas. Al aceptar estas lecciones, podemos profundizar nuestra confianza en Dios y cultivar un equilibrio más saludable entre el ministerio y el descanso, tal como Jesús nos lo demostró.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful…”
Hebrews 10:23
Confirmation
The sterile corridors of the morgue echoed with Kristen’s determined footsteps. This was her third visit in as many weeks, each time armed with the same unshakable conviction: Wade was alive.
As she approached the desk, the clerk’s face softened with recognition and pity. “Dr. Kitzler, I’m sorry, but nothing’s changed. Corporal Kovacs’ remains aren’t here.”
Kristen nodded, her expression a mask of professional detachment. “I understand. Thank you.”
Outside, she leaned against the cool stone of the building, letting out a shaky breath. The absence of Wade’s body only strengthened her belief. She closed her eyes, remembering their last moment together, Wade’s promise ringing in her ears: “Always.”
With renewed determination, Kristen straightened her shoulders and headed back to the hospital. The war raged on, and she had a job to do. But beneath her calm exterior, a fierce hope burned.
In quiet moments between patients, Kristen found herself whispering prayers. “Lord, keep him safe. Bring him back to me.”
As weeks turned to months, doubt tried to creep in. But Kristen held fast to her faith and the memories that sustained her. She threw herself into her work, comforting those who had seen so much carnage and mending broken minds and hearts, all while holding space in her own heart for the man she knew would return.
“Always,” she whispered each night before sleep claimed her. It was a promise, a prayer, and a declaration of unwavering love. Whatever battles Wade was fighting, whatever secrets kept them apart, Kristen knew one thing with absolute certainty: their story was far from over.
Deceptive Calm
The aroma of perfectly grilled steak wafted through the air as Wade savored each bite, still marveling at the stark contrast between his current surroundings and the rustic boot camp on Carthis 7. The administrative staff at Ranger School had welcomed him with unexpected warmth, their efficiency tinged with a genuine friendliness that felt almost surreal after weeks of secrecy and tension. He knew this special treatment wouldn’t last long.
As he waited for his paperwork to be processed, Wade’s gaze drifted to the window, taking in the lush greenery that stretched as far as the eye could see. Earth had changed dramatically in the century and a half since the devastating Skravak attack. The scorched-earth tactics employed by the aliens had razed cities to the ground, slashing the global population from 8 billion to a mere 1 billion souls, now scattered primarily across rural landscapes.
The irony wasn’t lost on Wade. Humanity had been forcibly regressed to a lifestyle reminiscent of the late 1800s, with only pockets of advanced technology persisting in crucial areas like agriculture, transportation, and communication. The collective trauma of the AI betrayal that had facilitated the alien invasion left most Earthers deeply mistrustful of complex computer systems.
Wade chuckled to himself, realizing how strange Earth seemed compared to the more technologically advanced colonies. The planet’s inhabitants clung to their “backward” ways with fierce pride, their traditions a bulwark against the terrors of the past.
Yet, from this devastation had sprung an unexpected boon. Free from centuries of industrial pollutants and harmful agricultural practices, Earth’s soil had rejuvenated. The planet now stood as one of the most fertile in the entire confederacy, its economy revolving primarily around agriculture and the export of organic materials to resource-hungry colonies.
As Wade shouldered his duffle bag and made his way to the barracks, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia. All the changes, including his new identity, felt like he had stepped back in time. An epoch he had read about in high school history books.
As Wade shouldered his duffle bag and made his way to the barracks, he was immediately paired with Ranger Metropax, a lanky, tall, awkward man with a sheepish half-smile. “Smith,” Metropax nodded, extending his hand. “Looks like we’re ranger buddies.” Wade returned the firm handshake, recognizing the look and demeanor of a Marine Lieutenant. Rangers wore no rank in training and were all considered peers, but the chasm between officer and enlisted was always apparent.
The barracks were a far cry from the sterile environments of military spaceships. The scent of polished wood and fresh linens filled the air as Wade and Metropax claimed adjacent bunks, tossing their duffels down in unison. Around them, other Ranger pairs were settling in, their faces a mix of excitement and apprehension.
The rhythmic sound of footsteps drew everyone’s attention. A barrel-chested Ranger Instructor strolled casually down the center aisle, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He sported a form-fitting black t-shirt, emblazoned with a large gold Ranger tab on the front and his white name tag proudly displayed above it. When he spoke, his voice was calm and almost friendly, belying the intensity of the training to come.
“Welcome, Rangers,” he announced, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Ranger students. “Get a good night’s sleep. We’ll get started at 07 hundred hours in the morning.”
As the instructor turned and exited the barracks, Metropax leaned over to Wade. “You’ve been through this before? You’re a Bat Boy, right, I mean.” Metropax was referring to enlisted rangers headed to an assignment in one of the Ranger Battalions. Wade nodded slightly, and in a hushed tone suppressing a chuckle, said, “07 hundred, ha. Don’t you believe it for a second!”
As they began unpacking their gear, Wade’s thoughts drifted to Kristen. He wondered what she was doing, if she was safe, if she still believed in him. The weight of the promise reassuring him – “This is the woman you’re going to marry” – settled in his heart and mind as a source of strength.
Tomorrow would bring challenges, that much was certain. Wade pulled the sheets tight and folded six inches over the blanket at the head, perfectly made to military standards. He carefully lay on top of the blanket and sheets, fully dressed and ready to move on a moment’s notice. He knew better than to get between the sheets. There would be no time to get dressed, let alone make his bed to pass inspection. As Wade lay on his bunk, listening to the quiet rustling of his fellow Rangers settling in for the night, he warned Metropax and those closest to him to do as he had done. The Lieutenant was eager to follow Wade’s lead. A few others took his advice. But most bunked up like they were at boy scout camp. Confident he was ready for the morning’s festivities, he felt a sense of purpose ignite within him. This was his path forward – to become a Ranger, to serve, and ultimately, to find his way back to Kristen.
With a silent prayer of gratitude and a renewed commitment to his goals, Wade pulled his patrol cap over his face and closed his eyes. Sleep would be a precious commodity from here on out.
The Storm Breaks
At 03 hundred, Wade and Metropax’s eyes snapped open simultaneously as a cacophony of metal against metal shattered the pre-dawn silence. They were on their feet before the trash can finished its thunderous journey down the center aisle. This was the start of what would be the most grueling week of many Rangers’ lives.
Chaos erupted as Ranger Instructors (RIs) burst into the barracks, their voices a tempest of commands and reprimands. “Get out! Get on the street now!” they bellowed, leaving no room for hesitation or questions.
“Stay close Metro.” Wade muttered as they moved through the chaos. The buddy system was already proving its worth – while other Rangers stumbled alone in confusion, Wade and Metropax quickly navigated their way through the maelstrom and found their positions in formation.
There was no time for niceties. Students were shoved, pushed, and herded out onto the street, many still in various states of undress. Some stood at attention with nothing on but their underwear. The formation that assembled outside was a far cry from military precision – a motley crew of disheveled, disoriented individuals struggling to find their assigned positions.
At the head of this chaotic assembly stood a lone RI, his face a mask of disgust as he berated the student company commander. “What in the name of all that’s holy is this?!” he roared, gesturing at the disarray before him. “You call this a formation? I’ve seen better organization on a kindergarten playground!”
As if summoned by the commotion, more RIs materialized, descending upon the platoon and squad leaders like wolves on wounded prey. Their voices joined the cacophony, a symphony of criticism and demands for perfection.
Within moments, it seemed as though the entire cadre of RIs had engulfed the formation. They moved through the ranks like sharks scenting blood in the water, their keen eyes missing nothing. Every uniform infraction, every flicker of defiance or confusion in a Ranger’s eyes became grounds for punishment.
“Drop and give me twenty!” became the refrain of the morning, punctuated by the rhythmic counting of push-ups and the labored breathing of Rangers struggling through flutter kicks.
A short, stocky RI materialized before them, eyes scanning the ranger buddies with predatory intensity. “Well, well… Smith and Metropax. The dynamic duo.” His coffee-scented breath washed over them as he searched for deficiencies. Finding none, he moved on, but not before growling, “Don’t get comfortable, studs. There’s plenty of time to royally mess up.”
Wade blinked and the RI was on to the next victim. He knew it was only a matter of time before the RIs found something to harass him for. This was merely the opening salvo of “City Week,” the crucible designed to separate the wheat from the chaff.
For the next seven days, the concept of “civilization” would be twisted into an exquisite form of torment. It was boot camp on steroids – a gauntlet designed with one primary purpose: to make Ranger students quit.
Wade steeled himself for what was to come. Right now, he stood in the eye of the storm because he was prepared. But he knew the winds would eventually circle around for him. You can’t prepare for everything. He knew the statistics – only 40% would survive this first week. But he also knew something else, something that burned in his chest with an intensity that matched the rising sun.
He had a promise to trust and a promise to keep.
The storm of City Week had broken, and Wade Kovacs – now Ranger Smith – stood ready to weather it, come what may. His ranger buddy was a quick study and followed Wade’s cue, and together they made a good team. Metropax was smart. Not just book smart either. He had a savvy about him that Wade knew he would benefit from in time.
Survival of the Fittest
“Rangers, on the command of fall out, get back in the barracks and prepare for inspection! You have 30 seconds to be standing by your bunk! Fall out!” The command was given, and as one, the students surged towards the barracks. Inside, chaos erupted as dozens of students were cornered by RIs, forced to sign negative spot reports for infractions both real and imagined.
“Ranger Smith!” An RI’s voice cut through the commotion. “Your bunk has a thread hanging from it! Sign here.” Wade knew it was just a matter of time. The RI wrote on the top of the card, “Ranger James Smith, Roster number 47.” Wade felt an urge to correct the Sergeant but immediately recognized that would be a big mistake in two ways. First, it was his new name and second, you never correct an RI.
Ranger Smith gritted his teeth but complied, knowing each signature was a strike against his chances of completing the course.
Back in formation, the group stood ready for PT. The air was thick with anticipation and the acrid smell of nervous sweat. As calisthenics began, Ranger Smith pushed through the burn in his muscles; he’d been here before. Reminiscent of boot camp.
The confidence course loomed ahead, a gauntlet of twelve obstacles designed to break body and spirit. Wade and Metropax tackled each obstacle in tandem. At the Worm Pit, each one in adjacent lanes next to each other, they prepared to negotiate the obstacle. The Worm Pit was a slimy mix of mud, sawdust, and some unidentified substance that made it reek to high heaven.
Wade took a deep breath, steeling himself before plunging in. The stench was overwhelming, threatening to gag him as he inched forward. The back pocket of his trousers caught on the barbed wire, and for a heart-stopping moment, he thought he might be stuck.
“Move it, Smith! And get your fourth point of contact out of the air! You want to get your butt shot off?” an RI bellowed. “Or do you have parts to spare?” The RI obviously making a snide remark referencing his prosthetic.
Gritting his teeth, Ranger Smith wrenched his pants free and pressed on. He emerged on the other side, gasping and covered in muck, only to hear the dreaded command:
“Not good enough! Do it again!”
Three more times, Rangers Smith and Metropax navigated the Worm Pit before finally satisfying the RI’s exacting standards. Wade was embarrassed that he had let his ranger buddy down, but Metropax took it all in stride. Each obstacle that followed brought its own unique brand of misery, but both Rangers tackled them all with grim determination.
The five-mile run that followed was a study in controlled agony. Ranger Smith focused on the back of the runner in front of him, knowing that falling more than two steps behind meant failure. His lungs burned, his legs screamed for relief, but he pushed on, the mantra “Never Quit!” echoing with each footfall. Both Wade and Metropax, side by side, matched stride for stride, subtly adjusting their pace to stay together while maintaining formation standards.
Beside him, a fellow student stumbled, falling out of formation. “Get on the truck, Ranger!” an RI screamed. The “No Go Truck” drove slowly behind the formation, loading student after student who could not keep up the grueling pace. Ranger Smith spared a moment of sympathy for his fallen comrade but kept his eyes forward. There would be time for camaraderie later; now was the time for survival.
Breakfast in the mess hall was a cruel joke. Platters of gourmet food tantalized the famished students, but there was no time to savor it. RIs stalked the aisles, their voices a constant barrage of urgency and intimidation.
“Hurry up, Studs! Woof it down! We got some bugs that need killin’ and your chow is slowin’ me down!”
Ranger Smith shoveled food into his mouth mechanically, barely tasting it. Across the table, he saw a student attempt to pocket a roll. The RI’s response was swift and merciless.
“Thinking of saving that for later, sunshine? Get down and give me fifty push-ups! Sign this major unsat spot report. Now get out of my sight!”
The day continued in a brutal parade of challenges. Marine Martial Arts training left them battered and bruised. Classes on antique weapons and explosives tested their mental acuity when their bodies screamed for rest. The principles of patrolling, drilled into their heads with relentless repetition, were adhered to with almost religious fervor.
As 2100 hours approached, Ranger Smith felt a glimmer of relief. Showers and bed beckoned, promising a brief respite from the day’s torments. But even as he stood under the lukewarm spray, scrubbing away layers of grime and sweat, he knew tomorrow would bring more of the same.
Lying in his bunk that night, every muscle aching, Wade closed his eyes and saw Kristen’s face. He remembered their last moments together, the feel of her in his arms, the warmth of her smile. It seemed a lifetime ago, but the memory gave him strength.
He prayed quietly to himself, “Father, you have a plan and I have Your promise. I will stay the course. Give me strength and protect me from all that could go wrong. I believe You’re right here with me every step of the way. And Lord…please be with Kristen and give her faith in You and in me.” Sleep claimed Wade as “Ranger Smith” could be set aside until tomorrow.
Rugged Resilience
As Ranger Smith acclimated to Ranger School’s brutal routine, he marveled at its anachronistic nature. Despite being 350 years in the future, the Marine Corps had steadfastly preserved the training methods of the late 20th century. This dedication to tradition was both a point of pride and a constant challenge.
The school’s history resonated through every aspect of training. Founded in 1951 during the Korean War, it had always emphasized leadership development over pure tactical proficiency. This philosophy endured, with instructors pushing students to their limits to forge resilient leaders.
During patrolling tactics classes, Smith found himself transported to another era. The instructors used terminology that seemed pulled directly from 1980s field manuals. Despite centuries of technological advancement, the fundamentals of small-unit tactics remained surprisingly relevant.
One morning, Wade had finished personal hygiene with ten precious minutes before formation. Rather than being idle, he spotted a manual push mower against the barracks and began trimming scattered grass between pine needles and bare ground.
An RI approached, barking, “Ranger! What on earth are you doing?”
Wade’s mind scrambled. “Mowing the grass, Sergeant!”
“Well, there’s some grass that needs attention, but mostly you’re mowing dirt. Sign here, Ranger.”
Wade’s face fell as he withdrew his antiquated government-issue pen, expecting the worst. To his surprise, it was a major positive spot report, nullifying his previous negative.
“Good initiative, Ranger,” the RI growled. “Keep it up, Smith!”
Wade replaced the mower and double-timed to formation.
At chow, another lavish meal awaited them. They salivated at the prospect of even a small taste before being rushed out. Their last meal using tables and chairs was behind them.
The Ranger First Sergeant waited outside the D-FAC, bellowing, “Since you Rangers think you’re on a cruise ship taking your sweet time, rules have changed! File in the front, out the back. Whatever you eat on the way is yours, but you will not sit, stop, or even blink in my mess hall! Is that clear?”
Rangers filed past servers, grabbing food with their hands – no time for utensils. They gorged themselves, cramming their cheeks full before reaching the exit. Wade managed a decent amount, with just a banana remaining. Peeling it while holding a tray proved challenging, but he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at the cleaning station.
Still struggling to swallow, he faced an RI at the exit. “What’s in your mouth, Ranger?”
Wade could only mumble, “Nana?”
“Drop and give me fifty, Ranger Smith!”
Wade and Metropax immediately dropped into the prone and started knocking out push-ups.
The RI continued, “And I’ve got something for you to sign when you finish choking that down.”
Once again, Wade was back in the negative and was the reason for his buddy’s pain.
As they finished their push-ups, Wade signed the spot report and they were off toward the barracks at a double time.
“Sorry about that Metro… my bad,” Wade growled apologetically.
“Don’t even think about it, Smith. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it past the first day. Nothing but a thing… and for all practical purposes, ‘City Week’ is done. On to Camp Darby,” Metropax said energetically.
“For the first phase of patrolling!” Wade finished. Both of them headed into the barracks and checked their gear one final time.
Isaiah 9:1-7 & Jeremiah 23:1-8 – The Multiplicative Nature of God’s Kingdom: A Prophetic and Christological Exploration
Introduction
The concept of the multiplicative nature of the Kingdom of God is a profound theme woven throughout Scripture, revealing the expansive and transformative power of God’s reign. This essay will analyze this concept, focusing on the word “multiply” in the context of Isaiah 9:1-7 and Jeremiah 23:1-8, while using Jesus as the perfect example to follow.
Etymological Analysis
In Hebrew, the word for “multiply” is רָבָה (rabah – Strong’s H7235), which means to increase, become numerous, or grow. This term appears in Isaiah 9:7, where it is prophesied that “of the increase (מִרְבֵּה, mirbeh- Strong’s H4766) of his government and of peace there will be no end.” The root word carries connotations of abundance, expansion, and fruitfulness, all of which are central to understanding the nature of God’s kingdom.
Theological Significance
Biblical Foundation
The concept of multiplication is foundational to God’s interaction with humanity. In Genesis 1:22,28, God’s first command to living creatures and humans is to “be fruitful and multiply.” This command is reiterated to Noah and his sons after the flood (Genesis 9:1,7), establishing multiplication as a divine mandate for creation.
Covenant Promises
God’s covenant with Abraham further emphasizes this theme. In Genesis 17:2,6, God promises to multiply Abraham exceedingly and make him fruitful. This promise becomes a cornerstone of Israel’s identity, as seen when Moses reminds God of His promise to multiply Abraham’s descendants (Exodus 32:13).
Isaiah 9:1-7
This passage presents a powerful prophecy of the coming Messiah who will bring light to those in darkness and increase the nation’s joy. The prophecy culminates in the promise of an eternal kingdom established and upheld with justice and righteousness. Jesus fulfills this prophecy, bringing light to the world (John 8:12) and establishing a kingdom that continually expands.
Jeremiah 23:1-8
This text further illustrates the multiplicative concept, promising a righteous Branch from David’s line who will reign wisely and execute justice. This Messianic figure, identified as Jesus, will gather the remnant of God’s flock and cause them to be fruitful and multiply (Jeremiah 23:3). This multiplication is not just in number but in righteousness and faithfulness to God.
Jesus as the Perfect Example
Jesus, as the perfect embodiment of God’s kingdom, exemplifies this multiplicative nature throughout His ministry. He begins with twelve disciples but ultimately commands them to “go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19), initiating a process of exponential growth. This multiplication is not merely numerical but encompasses spiritual transformation and the spread of God’s reign.
The multiplicative nature of God’s kingdom is evident in Jesus’ parables and actions. In the parable of the mustard seed (Matthew 13:31-32), Jesus describes the kingdom starting small but growing into something vast and life-sustaining. Similarly, the parable of the yeast (Matthew 13:33) illustrates how the kingdom’s influence permeates and transforms society. Jesus demonstrates divine multiplication in action by feeding the 5,000 with five loaves and two fish (Luke 9:16), a physical manifestation of God’s ability to multiply resources beyond human expectation.
Divine Attributes and Redemptive Plan
This concept reveals God’s desire for His reign to extend to all aspects of creation. It demonstrates His redemptive plan to restore and multiply what was lost through sin. The multiplicative nature of the kingdom points to Christ’s eternal reign, which will continue to expand in influence and power throughout eternity. This is further illustrated in Ezekiel 36:10-11, where God declares He will multiply people and animals on the land of Israel, symbolizing the restoration and growth of His kingdom.
Implications for Believers
For believers today, understanding this concept transforms our perspective on kingdom work. It encourages us to see our small acts of faithfulness as seeds of exponential growth in God’s hands. The parable of the talents (Matthew 25:20-21) illustrates spiritual multiplication through faithful stewardship, challenging believers to actively participate in the kingdom’s expansion. We are called to recognize that our efforts, empowered by the Holy Spirit, can have far-reaching effects.
Conclusion
The multiplicative nature of God’s kingdom, exemplified perfectly in Jesus, reveals a dynamic, ever-expanding reign that transforms individuals, communities, and ultimately the entire creation. It calls us to embrace our role in this divine multiplication, trusting that God can use our faithful obedience to produce abundant fruit for His kingdom. This concept illuminates Jesus’ kingship and the expansive, eternal nature of God’s kingdom, offering both scholarly insight and inspirational truth for contemporary Christian understanding.
Disciple-Maker’s Short Story
The Mission to Multiply
The mess hall buzzed with the usual lunchtime chatter, but in a quiet corner, Sergeant First Class Hernandez and Lieutenant Banks sat engrossed in conversation. Their trays of food lay half-forgotten as they leaned in, discussing matters far beyond the day’s training schedule.
“So, LT, what’s on your mind today?” SFC Hernandez asked, noticing the thoughtful expression on his young platoon leader’s face.
Lieutenant Banks hesitated, then spoke. “Sergeant, I was reading Jeremiah 23 and Matthew 28 this morning. There’s something about God wanting to multiply His followers that’s got me thinking.”
Hernandez nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Ah, you’ve stumbled upon the Great Commission, sir. It’s the heart of what we’re called to do as believers.”
“The Great Commission?” Banks furrowed his brow. “I’ve heard that term, but I’m not sure I fully grasp it.”
Hernandez leaned back, his eyes alight with passion. “It’s simple, yet profound, sir. Jesus, after His resurrection, gave us a mission. He said, ‘Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.'”
Banks nodded slowly, absorbing the words. “So it’s about spreading the faith?”
“It’s more than that, sir. It’s about multiplication. Think of it like our military strategy. We don’t just want to hold ground; we want to expand our influence, right?”
“Right,” Banks agreed.
“Well, the Great Commission is God’s strategy for expanding His kingdom. It’s not just about converting people; it’s about making disciples who will, in turn, make more disciples. It’s exponential growth.”
Banks’ eyes widened with understanding. “Like a chain reaction.”
“Exactly, sir. And here’s the kicker – this isn’t a new idea. It goes all the way back to God’s promise to Abraham that all peoples on Earth would be blessed through him. The Great Commission is the fulfillment of that ancient promise.”
Banks leaned forward, his food completely forgotten now. “So how do we do this, Sergeant? How do we fulfill this Commission?”
Hernandez smiled warmly. “Sir, we’ve been doing it since the day we met. Remember when I first shared my faith with you? That was the Great Commission in action. And now, look at you, diving into Scripture, asking questions, growing in your faith. That’s discipleship.”
Banks sat back, a look of awe on his face. “I never thought of it that way. You’ve been living this out all along, haven’t you?”
“You caught me with my hand in the cookie jar, sir!” They both laughed. “It’s our mission and it’s not always easy, but it’s what we’re called to do. Just like we train our soldiers to be leaders who can train others, we’re called to be disciples who make disciples.”
“It’s a big responsibility,” Banks mused.
“It is,” Hernandez agreed. “But remember, Jesus said He has all authority in heaven and on earth, and He promised to be with us always. We’re not doing this alone.”
As they finished their lunch, Banks looked at Hernandez with newfound respect. “Thank you, Sergeant. For living this out, for showing me what it means to follow Christ. I want to be like that – like Jesus, multiplying His love and truth wherever I go.”
Hernandez nodded, his eyes shining. “That’s the goal, sir. To become more like Jesus every day, and to help others do the same. That’s the heart of the Great Commission.”
As they stood to leave, both men felt a renewed sense of purpose. Their mission as soldiers took on a deeper meaning, intertwined with a greater calling – to be part of God’s multiplicative kingdom, spreading His love and truth to all nations, starting right here in their own platoon.
ToBeLikeJesus 