Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Matthew and Mark to see that discerning what is meant by what Jesus says is just as important as hearing what is said.
But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be thrown in the depths of the sea and drowned. Woe to the world for the causes of sin. These stumbling blocks must come, but woe to the man through whom they come!
If your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life crippled or lame than to have two hands and two feet and be thrown into hell, the unquenchable eternal fire. where their worm does not die and the fire is not quenched. And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life, the kingdom of God, with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell where ‘their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.’ For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good, but if the salt loses its saltiness, with what will you season it? Have salt among yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”
My Thoughts
WOW! Is Jesus serious about lopping off body parts to get into heaven?
A person may read this and take Jesus literally and pluck out an eye or cut off a hand (most people’s feet are pretty safe). But seriously, as a disciple maker, you’re going to have to explain this one. It is much akin to when Jesus says “hate your parents.” Does Jesus really expect us to “HATE” our parents? Both statements are using the teaching technique of hyperbole. They are meant to underscore a concept so radical it makes people stop and think. It literally forces them to say “Wait!? What!?”
Don’t believe me? How many of Jesus’ disciples were actually blind or crippled. No, they didn’t take Jesus literally but they did take Him seriously. They got the point; Sin is a heinous crime against God and man. It should be dealt with with the utmost rigor.
And besides, Jesus Himself points out the real origin of sin. It is the heart.
For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, slanders. (Matthew 15:19)
You know what that means if you elect to take the “lopping off body parts” literally? You would have to pluck out your heart as well. And even that needs to be explained because when Jesus says heart, He’s not talking about the organ, He’s talking about the seat of consciousness and emotions. So that would be your brain and we all know what would happen if you plucked out your brain.
The point is, as a disciple maker, be ready to answer the tough questions. Study, ask questions, meditate, practice the Scriptures to the point where you can follow Jesus and Paul’s example;
Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth. (2 Timothy 2:15)
AND take sin very seriously!
My Story
I once had one of the guys I was discipling tell me that “God told him to give his car to a poor person.” He had read what Jesus said in Luke 6:30;
“Give to everyone who asks of you…”
Now how do you respond to that? I was old enough in the faith to know two things. First, God may very well be telling him to give his car to the poor person. And second, there may be circumstances and other Scripture that would inform his charitable activity. I kind of stood there with my mouth open but no words were coming out. Needless to say I was both proud of him and stuck and needed to wrestle with the Spirit and the Scriptures before I dropped my uninformed opinion on him. As I read and prayed some more data started to fill in the blanks.
There are Scriptures that point to competing principles. Like when Jesus scolds the Pharisees for having people give to Corban and neglect one’s parents. (Mark 7:9-13) Or where Jesus tells one rich guy he needs to give all he owns to the poor (Matthew 19:16-30) and Zacchaeus only gives half (Luke 19:1-10). Or when Mary pours perfume on Jesus’ head. (John 12:1-8) The Apostles rebuked her for making such a lavish gift to Jesus. But maybe they were thinking Jesus would have been acting the same based on previous teaching and actions!? And yet He went the opposite direction on them and rebuked them for rebuking Mary.
My point is that we need to be careful as we use the Scriptures to guide disciples in the Way. To be sure there are many many things that are simply black and white. But there are others that live in the gray area.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Take sin seriously
Be a rigorous student of the Bible
Teach those you are discipling to do the same
As we read the words of Jesus and other Scripture, sometimes we’ll be challenged to understand what the author truly meant. Just like learning to understand someone you’re conversing with, possessing good listening skills and searching for the main intent of what is said will help us immensely. Let’s approach the Scriptures the same way.
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo y Marcos para ver que discernir el significado de lo que dice Jesús es tan importante como escucharlo.
Comencemos.
Mateo 18:6-9, Marcos 9:42-50
Pero a cualquiera que haga tropezar a uno de estos pequeños que creen en mí, mejor le sería si le ataran al cuello una gran piedra de molino, lo arrojaran a lo profundo del mar y se ahogara. ¡Ay del mundo por las causas del pecado! Es necesario que estas piedras de tropiezo vengan, pero ¡ay del hombre por quien vienen!
Si tu mano o tu pie te hace pecar, córtalo y tíralo lejos. Es mejor para ti entrar en la vida cojo o manco, que con dos manos y dos pies ser arrojado al infierno, el fuego eterno e inextinguible, donde el gusano no muere y el fuego nunca se apaga. Y si tu ojo te hace pecar, sácatelo y tíralo. Te es mejor entrar en la vida, en el reino de Dios, con un solo ojo, que teniendo dos ojos ser arrojado al fuego del infierno, donde «el gusano nunca muere y el fuego nunca se apaga». Porque todos serán salados con fuego. Buena es la sal, pero si la sal se vuelve insípida, ¿con qué la sazonarán? Tengan sal entre ustedes y estén en paz unos con otros.
Mis Pensamientos
¡GUAU! ¿Habla Jesús en serio sobre amputarse partes del cuerpo para entrar al cielo?
Alguien puede leer esto y tomar a Jesús literalmente y arrancarse un ojo o cortarse una mano (la mayoría de las personas no corren ningún riesgo con los pies). Pero en serio, como hacedor de discípulos, tendrás que explicar esto. Es muy parecido a cuando Jesús dice «odien a sus padres». ¿De verdad espera Jesús que “odiemos” a nuestros padres? Ambas afirmaciones utilizan la técnica didáctica de la hipérbole. Su objetivo es subrayar un concepto tan radical que hace que la gente se detenga a pensar. Literalmente los obliga a decir: “¡Espera! ¿¡Qué!?”. ¿No me creen? ¿Cuántos discípulos de Jesús eran ciegos o lisiados? No, no tomaron a Jesús literalmente, pero sí lo tomaron en serio. Entendieron la idea: el pecado es un crimen atroz contra Dios y el hombre. Debe ser tratado con el máximo rigor.
Además, Jesús mismo señala el verdadero origen del pecado: el corazón.
Porque del corazón salen los malos pensamientos, los homicidios, los adulterios, las fornicaciones, los robos, los falsos testimonios y las calumnias. (Mateo 15:19)
¿Saben lo que significa si deciden tomar literalmente lo de “cortar partes del cuerpo”? Tendrían que arrancarse el corazón también. E incluso eso necesita una explicación, porque cuando Jesús dice corazón, no se refiere al órgano, sino a la sede de la conciencia y las emociones. Así que ese sería el cerebro, y todos sabemos lo que sucedería si se arrancara el cerebro.
La clave es, como hacedores de discípulos, estar listos para responder las preguntas difíciles. Estudien, Haz preguntas, medita, practica las Escrituras hasta el punto de seguir el ejemplo de Jesús y Pablo.
Procura con diligencia presentarte a Dios aprobado, como obrero que no tiene de qué avergonzarse, que usa con precisión la palabra de verdad (2 Timoteo 2:15).
¡Y toma el pecado muy en serio!
Mi Historia
Una vez, uno de los chicos a los que discipulaba me dijo que “Dios le dijo que diera su auto a un pobre”. Había leído lo que Jesús dijo en Lucas 6:30:
“A todo el que te pida, dale…”.
¿Cómo respondes a eso? Tenía la edad suficiente en la fe para saber dos cosas. Primero, es muy posible que Dios le estuviera diciendo que diera su auto a un pobre. Y segundo, podría haber circunstancias y otras Escrituras que inspiraran su actividad caritativa. Me quedé allí con la boca abierta, pero no me salían las palabras. Huelga decir que estaba orgulloso de él y, al mismo tiempo, atascado, y necesitaba luchar con el Espíritu y las Escrituras antes de dejar caer mi opinión desinformada sobre él. Mientras leía y oraba, más información comenzó a llenar los vacíos.
Hay pasajes bíblicos que apuntan a principios contrapuestos. Como cuando Jesús reprende a los fariseos por hacer que la gente diera a Corbán y descuidara a sus padres. (Marcos 7:9-13) O cuando Jesús le dice a un hombre rico que debe dar todo lo que tiene a los pobres (Mateo 19:16-30) y Zaqueo solo da la mitad (Lucas 19:1-10). O cuando María derramó perfume sobre la cabeza de Jesús (Juan 12:1-8). Los apóstoles la reprendieron por hacerle un regalo tan generoso a Jesús. ¿Pero quizás pensaban que Jesús habría actuado igual basándose en enseñanzas y acciones previas? Y, sin embargo, Él actuó en la dirección opuesta y los reprendió por reprender a María.
Mi punto es que debemos ser cuidadosos al usar las Escrituras para guiar a los discípulos en el Camino. Sin duda, hay muchas cosas que son simplemente blanco o negro. Pero hay otras que viven en la zona gris.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicarlo. Aquí hay algunas ideas:
Toma el pecado en serio.
Sé un estudiante riguroso de la Biblia.
Enseña a quienes discipulas a hacer lo mismo.
Al leer las palabras de Jesús y otras Escrituras, a veces nos resultará difícil comprender lo que el autor realmente quiso decir. Al igual que aprender a comprender a alguien con quien conversas, tener buenas habilidades para escuchar y buscar la intención principal de lo que se dice nos ayudará enormemente. Abordemos las Escrituras de la misma manera.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
“Suffer hardship with me, as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No soldier in active service entangles himself in the affairs of everyday life, so that he may please the one who enlisted him as a soldier.” (2 Timothy 2:3-4)
Firebase Echo
The jungle breathed around them like a living thing, its humid darkness pressing against Firebase Echo with the weight of a thousand secrets. In the trenches and bunkers, American soldiers waited with the peculiar stillness that comes before violence—that electric moment when every nerve stands at attention, when the smallest sound might herald death.
For three days, intelligence reports had whispered of something coming. A major assault. The kind that left bases as nothing more than smoking craters and casualty reports. The men of the infantry platoon knew the arithmetic of war: they were outnumbered, outgunned, and fighting an enemy that knew every root and shadow of this hostile green world.
They went through the rituals of preparation—cleaning weapons that were already clean, checking ammunition that had been checked a dozen times, sharing C-rations and quiet jokes that might be their last. Some wrote letters they hoped would never need to be mailed. Others simply stared into the impenetrable blackness beyond the wire, willing their eyes to pierce the veil that hid their fate.
At precisely 0200 hours, the night exploded.
The first mortar rounds fell like thunder from a malevolent spirit, tearing the silence into screaming fragments. The earth convulsed beneath their feet as the jungle erupted in a symphony of destruction—the sharp crack of small arms fire, the deeper boom of rocket-propelled grenades, the primal shouts of men locked in mortal combat.
Sergeant Wilson was manning the perimeter when the shell found him. The blast wave hit like an invisible fist, lifting him from his feet and slamming him into the mud. His ears rang with a high, piercing whine that seemed to come from inside his skull. Hot metal fragments had torn through his right arm, but it was his hand that told the true story of the night’s cruelty—his trigger finger was gone, simply erased by the indifferent mathematics of war.
The platoon medic materialized through the smoke and chaos, his hands steady despite the melee unfolding around them. He worked with practiced efficiency, wrapping Wilson’s mangled hand in field dressings that bloomed red almost immediately.
“You’re done, Sarge,” the medic said, his voice barely audible above the cacophony. “We need to get you out of here.”
Wilson looked at the medic with eyes that had seen too much but refused to close. Around them, the firebase was being overrun. Dark figures moved through the wire like deadly shadows, and the defensive line was buckling under the relentless assault. There was no evacuation, no rear area to retreat to. There was only here, now, and the terrible choice between fighting and dying.
“No,” Wilson said, his voice hoarse but determined. “Not yet.”
With his right hand useless, Wilson picked up his rifle with his left. The weapon felt alien in his grip, the balance all wrong, but necessity has a way of making the impossible merely difficult. He braced himself in the trench, squinting through the smoke to identify targets among the chaos.
Around him, wounded men made the same impossible choice. A private with a bandaged head rose from where he’d been knocked down, blood streaming down his face but his rifle steady. A corporal with shrapnel in his leg limped to his position, gritting his teeth against the pain. Some men, overwhelmed by wounds or shock, couldn’t continue—but most understood the brutal equation of survival: fight or die.
The night became a kaleidoscope of violence. Muzzle flashes strobed like deadly lightning, illuminating faces streaked with mud and blood. Wilson’s voice cut through the chaos, steady and sure, directing fire and encouraging his men. Despite his injury, despite the pain that shot up his arm with every movement, he held the line.
“Left flank! Movement in the wire!” he shouted, his left-handed shots finding their mark. “Johnson, cover the gap! Martinez, watch your six!”
His leadership became a beacon in the darkness, a steady point around which the defense could rally. Men looked to him and found courage they didn’t know they possessed. If their sergeant could fight one-handed, bleeding and battered, then they could find the strength to continue.
The battle raged through the darkest hours before dawn, each minute an eternity of violence and survival. When the first pale light finally crept across the horizon, it revealed a scene of devastation—the firebase battered but unbroken, the ground torn and scarred but still held by American hands.
Later, in the antiseptic environment of a field hospital, they would pin the Silver Star to Wilson’s chest. The citation spoke of extraordinary heroism, of leadership under fire, of actions above and beyond the call of duty. When reporters asked him about that night, about what drove him to fight with such determination despite his wounds, Wilson’s response was characteristically simple.
“It wasn’t about medals,” he said, his left hand unconsciously flexing where his right could no longer feel. “It was about staying alive. All of us.”
The story of Firebase Echo lived on in the telling, passed from soldier to soldier, from generation to generation. It became more than just another battle report—it became a testament to the human capacity for courage in the face of impossible odds, for adaptation when everything familiar falls away, and for the will to fight when fighting seems futile.
In the end, it wasn’t about the medals or the citations or the official recognition. It was about ordinary men who found extraordinary strength when their world came apart, who chose to stand and fight when every instinct screamed to run. It was about the night when Firebase Echo proved that when the mission demands our all, we can and will fight wounded.
The School of Hard Knocks
I learned to endure physical and mental suffering as a young child. Coming from a broken home where survival meant staying invisible and disappointment was the only constant. There are no badges or awards for such endurance. In fact, it is so common today, people barely notice the devastating turmoil infidelity, divorce, sexual and physical abuse, and neglect has on children. They are expected to muscle through it like any other adult, carrying wounds that never quite heal, learning to smile through the pain because nobody wants to hear about it.
By the time I dropped out of High School and joined the US Army I had already been through “Hard Knocks 101” and was ready for 201. But this time I would actually be paid to suffer and even get some shiny trinkets to pin on my uniform. Sleepless nights, subjected to the elements, real hunger, and a constant barrage of profanity that could peel the paint off of a Jeep were all par for the course and normal life. At least now the suffering had purpose, structure, and camaraderie. I wasn’t alone in it anymore.
By the time I gave my life to Christ, I was pretty well numb to the 101 and 201 suffering that comes with military life, but I would realize that God was actually preparing me for 301 and something far more significant – to bring Him glory through ministry. Shortly after I committed to being Jesus’ disciple I was carrying an extremely heavy backpack and slipped a disc in my back (I would suffer with the injury for the rest of my career in the Army). As a squad leader I was supposed to be with my men as they conducted maneuvers in the dead of winter but I was confined to a desk taking pain pills every four hours. My back was not the only thing hurting. My pride had been severely damaged when as a “Big Bad Airborne Ranger” I could barely walk let alone lead my soldiers. And to top it all off I was driving home after pulling guard duty all night, painkillers making me all the more drowsy, I totaled my car having fallen asleep at the wheel.
I don’t know about you but I kind of thought being a Christian would make life easier, not harder. Wasn’t faith supposed to be a shield against trouble? Some kind of divine insurance policy? Fortunately I was reading my Bible every day and after I washed the blood from my nose from the tangle with my steering wheel, I thought it might be best to bring some grievances before God. My reading for the day was 1 Corinthians chapter 16. As I read having a semi-pity party, I came across verse 13:
Be on the alert, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. (1 Corinthians 16:13)
The words jumped off the page at me. It wasn’t a slap in the face. The Holy Spirit knew I didn’t need insult added to injury. But it was the reassuring firmness of a Father who understood but was exhorting me to endure. I felt strangely understood and above all loved. The challenge was both strengthening and encouraging.I suddenly grasped something profound in my early faith journey – the Creator of the entire universe actually noticed me personally. Among all the vastness of creation, on this tiny planet Earth, He saw and cared about one small human being named Chuck Wood. The thought that an infinite God would give me such personal attention absolutely blew me away!
I wish I could say that suffering is a “one and done” lesson and once you get enough of it you pass the class. Nope. Jesus has great things planned for our lives and suffering, trials, and tribulations is one of the primary ways He accomplishes those plans. It’s His strange curriculum for character development.
But there’s a lot of books written on suffering, do we really need another one? I think we do. Not just a book on suffering but a book on how to continue to make disciples while we’re going through the ringer. I’ve seen believers wade through hard times with patience and civility. But what is rare is when Christians actually steward their ministries while going through said suffering. Many simply “tap out” because they are going through a rough patch.
Life’s inevitable hardships – illness, broken relationships, financial strain, family crises – have a way of turning our focus inward. When we’re hurting, it feels natural, even justified, to pull back from others and concentrate on our own healing. Suffering seems to grant us a “free pass” from the normal expectations of loving, caring, and nurturing those around us. Sometimes this withdrawal is absolutely necessary for our recovery and restoration. But at some point, we must learn what Paul called “the secret” – how to comfort others with the same comfort we’ve received from God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4). The danger lies in using our pain as a permanent excuse to abandon our calling to serve others.
Yet there’s another category of suffering that cuts even deeper than personal hardship – the unique pain that comes from ministry itself. As the saying goes, “There’s no hurt like church hurt.” And I get it. Ministry suffering cuts deeper than personal suffering. When you’re pouring your life into people and they turn on you, betray your trust, or walk away from the faith entirely – that’s a special kind of heartbreak. When politics tear apart what you’ve built, when your own leadership questions your methods, when financial stress threatens your family because you chose ministry over a “real job” – the temptation to quit becomes overwhelming. When people you’ve baptized, married, and buried their loved ones suddenly treat you like a stranger, when your teenage kids resent the ministry because it “stole” their dad or mom, when your spouse begins to question whether this calling was really from God – these are the moments when even the strongest soldiers consider desertion.
Or maybe you feel like God Himself has abandoned you – or even worse, deliberately cut you off at the knees out of spite or anger. The silence from heaven feels deafening when you’re desperate for His voice. You’ve undoubtedly heard many sermons about “Divine Appointments” – those moments when God orchestrates circumstances for His purposes. But I want to remind you that there are also what I call “Divine Disappointments.” These are the times when you feel like God has failed to bring justice to a glaringly unfair situation, when it seems He’s broken a promise He clearly made, or when He appears to ignore prayers that were specifically crafted to bring Him glory.
Maybe you prayed for healing for a faithful saint who died anyway. Perhaps you begged God to save your marriage, your ministry, or your wayward child, only to watch everything crumble despite your desperate pleas. You might have trusted Him with a vision He gave you, only to see it collapse spectacularly. You know intellectually that God is good, faithful, and just – your theology is sound. But your heart is screaming something entirely different. The disconnect between what you know about God and what you’re experiencing feels like it might tear you apart. In these moments, even seasoned believers find themselves questioning not just God’s methods, but His very character.
This small booklet is meant for those who are knee deep in ministry and wrestling with suffering at this very moment or sensing it’s waiting around the corner. Simply put, I want to encourage you to “Fight Wounded.” As the Apostle Paul encouraged his young protégé:
Fight the good fight of faith; take hold of the eternal life to which you were called… (1 Timothy 6:12)
Paul wasn’t writing to someone living in comfort and ease. Timothy was facing real opposition, genuine hardship, and the kind of ministry challenges that make you question everything. Yet Paul’s command was clear: keep fighting, even when you’re hurt. Don’t retreat. Don’t quit. Fight wounded.
In the pages that follow, we’ll walk alongside biblical heroes who mastered this art – from Moses leading a rebellious nation while nursing his own disappointments, to Paul planting churches from prison cells, to David worshiping God even when running for his life. We’ll examine the Scriptures that sustained them through their darkest hours and discover the theological foundations that make fighting wounded not just possible, but essential to our calling. You’ll also hear from modern-day warriors who’ve learned to minister effectively while their own hearts were breaking – pastors, missionaries, and ministry leaders who chose to keep serving others even when everything in them wanted to quit.
This isn’t about denial or pretending everything is fine. It’s about discovering how to remain faithful to your calling when faithfulness feels impossible. It’s about learning to comfort others with the comfort you’ve received from God, even when that comfort feels distant. Most importantly, it’s about understanding that your greatest ministry often happens not in spite of your wounds, but because of them.
Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Mark and Luke to see how Jesus addressed trying to protect the ministry with restrictions and centralization.
John said to Him, “Teacher, Master, we saw someone else driving out demons in Your name, and we tried to stop him, because he does not accompany us.” “Do not stop him,” Jesus replied. “For no one who performs a miracle in My name can turn around and speak evil of Me. For whoever is not against us is for us and whoever is not against you is for you. Indeed, if anyone gives you even a cup of water because you bear the name of Christ, truly I tell you, he will never lose his reward.
My Thoughts
The clique had formed. “If you ain’t part of our little group, you don’t get to play.” Sounds pretty immature doesn’t it? And yet, like John and his companions, we do it all the time. I call it the “curse of centralization.” In an effort to protect and preserve we start to narrow the “who can and who can’t” circle.
Now don’t get me wrong. I like the fact that we have a centralized driver’s training and license distribution system (if you have driven in other countries, you know what I mean). I’m also glad we don’t just let any old Joe perform brain surgeries. So there’s a place for qualifications, restrictions, and vetting. This all comes under the desire to protect people and therefore we centralize.
But in Christendom we have taken it way too far. I call them bottlenecks to the gospel (and watch out, I’m about to step on some toes). The first is “who can and who can’t share the gospel.” Don’t laugh, I’ve actually heard people say that it’s the pastor’s job and anyone else, well, they’re just not qualified. The problem is, we are all commanded to share the gospel (Matthew 28:18-20, Mark 16:15).
Two more are “who can and who can’t” baptize and serve the Lord’s supper. We are told you have to have certain credentials to do either one of these. Really? Where in the Bible does it say that? First, we are again commanded to baptize. The great commission informs us that we are to make disciples. This means making disciples by going, teaching all of His commands, AND baptizing. Have you ever heard a preacher say “Only obey ¾ of the Great Commission but leave the baptisms to me.” I bet you have, in so many words, you just might be recognizing it for the first time.
And what about the Lord’s supper, communion? Who says you can’t remember Jesus as a family around the dinner table or as a group of normal everyday disciples enjoying a sunset on the beach. We do see it’s a serious offence to abuse the Lord’s Supper (1 Corinthians 11:17-34). Some people were even dying as a result of their misconduct. So does that give us a reason to ratchet down and make one person the “communion expert” to protect the poor ignorant people from killing themselves? I don’t think so!
Ananias and Sapphira died when they abused the spiritual discipline of giving. Why don’t we save the people from themselves by having the pastor practice all the charity? If I’m sounding a bit snarky it’s because I’m terribly disturbed by the bottleneck we’ve created for the gospel and ministry for the sake of protecting it. These are all moves to “protect” the sanctity of the spiritual discipline. Protection and restriction are not the answer, education and training are.
My Story
I am a big champion of the Priesthood of the Believer (1 Peter 2:9). I think we should be training people to do the ministry and not outsourcing it to paid professionals. Once upon a time I was a paid professional and was the very bottleneck I just spoke about. But three things have compelled me to change. The example of Jesus, the Scriptures, and the immense need for laborers to reach the world for Christ.
I see Jesus delegating elements of ministry to men that the “paid professional” of the day would never let do the ministry. By John chapter 4, the disciples were doing all the baptisms. By Matthew 9 and Luke 9 they were healing the sick and casting out demons. Yes, Jesus modeled, taught, and trained these men (and women) but He also deployed them pretty quickly. And remember these weren’t the sharpest knives in the drawer and one of them wasn’t even in the kingdom.
From Acts it’s pretty evident that normal everyday disciples were sharing the gospel, sharing the Lord’s supper, and even being missionaries (Acts 2:46; 8:12; 11:19-21). When Luke talks about the gospel spreading so rapidly in certain regions it was not because Paul spoke to every person in Asia. It was because the residents of Asia took the ball and ran with it (Acts 19:10).
The job is too big and too important to cut out the major workforce needed to reach every tribe, tongue, and nation with the gospel. There’s just too much work to do to not train every single man and woman, boy and girl to make disciples and be the church to the best of their abilities. We need every believer putting their hands to the plow to advance the kingdom of God and complete the Great Commission. I’m pretty passionate about this, can you tell?
The answer to protecting the ministry is not restriction and centralization. The answer is good training and decentralization.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Do a Bible study on the difference between the old covenant priesthood and the new covenant laborer.
My brothers and sisters, let’s quit bottling up the ministry with restrictions and let every believer share the good news and make disciples. Train ‘em up, send ‘em out, and watch God’s kingdom grow like the mustard seed!
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Marcos y Lucas para ver cómo Jesús abordó el intento de proteger el ministerio con restricciones y centralización.
Comencemos.
Marcos 9:38-41, Lucas 9:49-50
Juan le dijo: «Maestro, Maestro, vimos a otro expulsando demonios en tu nombre, y tratamos de impedírselo, porque no viene con nosotros». Jesús respondió: «No se lo impidan. Porque nadie que haga un milagro en mi nombre puede volverse atrás y hablar mal de mí. Porque el que no está contra nosotros, está con nosotros, y el que no está contra ustedes, está con ustedes. De hecho, cualquiera que les dé aunque sea un vaso de agua por el hecho de llevar el nombre de Cristo, de cierto les digo que no perderá su recompensa».
Mis Pensamientos
Se había formado la camarilla. «Si no formas parte de nuestro grupito, no tienes derecho a participar». Suena bastante inmaduro, ¿verdad? Y, sin embargo, al igual que John y sus compañeros, lo hacemos constantemente. Yo lo llamo la «maldición de la centralización». En un esfuerzo por proteger y preservar, empezamos a reducir el círculo de «quién puede y quién no».
No me malinterpreten. Me gusta que tengamos un sistema centralizado de formación y distribución de licencias de conducir (si han conducido en otros países, saben a qué me refiero). También me alegra que no dejemos que cualquiera realice neurocirugías. Así que hay lugar para requisitos, restricciones y verificaciones. Todo esto se enmarca en el deseo de proteger a la gente y, por lo tanto, centralizamos.
Pero en la cristiandad lo hemos llevado demasiado lejos. Yo los llamo cuellos de botella para el evangelio (y cuidado, estoy a punto de pisar algunos callos). El primero es «quién puede y quién no puede compartir el evangelio». No se rían, de hecho he escuchado a gente decir que es trabajo del pastor y que cualquier otra persona, bueno, simplemente no está calificada. El problema es que a todos se nos manda compartir el evangelio (Mateo 28:18-20, Marcos 16:15).
Dos más son “quién puede y quién no puede” bautizar y servir la Santa Cena. Se nos dice que hay que tener ciertas credenciales para hacer cualquiera de estas dos cosas. ¿En serio? ¿Dónde dice eso en la Biblia? Primero, se nos manda de nuevo bautizar. La Gran Comisión nos informa que debemos hacer discípulos. Esto significa hacer discípulos yendo, enseñando todos sus mandamientos y bautizando. ¿Alguna vez han escuchado a un predicador decir: “Solo obedezcan tres cuartas partes de la Gran Comisión, pero déjenme los bautismos a mí”? Apuesto a que sí, con tantas palabras que quizás lo estén reconociendo por primera vez.
¿Y qué hay de la Santa Cena, la comunión? ¿Quién dice que no se puede recordar a Jesús como una familia alrededor de la mesa o como un grupo de discípulos comunes y corrientes disfrutando de un atardecer en la playa? Vemos que abusar de la Cena del Señor es una ofensa grave (1 Corintios 11:17-34). Algunas personas incluso morían como resultado de su mala conducta. Entonces, ¿nos da eso razón para reducir la responsabilidad y convertir a una persona en el “experto en la comunión” para proteger a los pobres ignorantes de suicidarse? ¡No lo creo!
Ananías y Safira murieron cuando abusaron de la disciplina espiritual de dar. ¿Por qué no salvamos a la gente de sí misma haciendo que el pastor practique toda la caridad? Si sueno un poco sarcástico es porque me preocupa terriblemente el cuello de botella que hemos creado para el evangelio y el ministerio con el fin de protegerlos. Todas estas son medidas para “proteger” la santidad de la disciplina espiritual. La protección y la restricción no son la solución; la educación y la capacitación sí lo son.
Mi Historia
Soy un gran defensor del Sacerdocio del Creyente (1 Pedro 2:9). Creo que deberíamos capacitar a personas para ejercer el ministerio y no subcontratarlo a profesionales. Hubo un tiempo en que yo era un profesional remunerado y era precisamente el cuello de botella del que acabo de hablar. Pero tres cosas me han impulsado a cambiar: el ejemplo de Jesús, las Escrituras y la inmensa necesidad de obreros que alcancen al mundo para Cristo.
Veo a Jesús delegando elementos del ministerio a hombres que los “profesionales remunerados” de la época jamás permitirían. Para Juan capítulo 4, los discípulos ya realizaban todos los bautismos. Para Mateo 9 y Lucas 9, sanaban a los enfermos y expulsaban demonios. Sí, Jesús modeló, enseñó y capacitó a estos hombres (y mujeres), pero también los desplegó con bastante rapidez. Y recuerden, estos no eran los cuchillos más afilados del cajón, y uno de ellos ni siquiera estaba en el reino.
De Hechos se desprende claramente que discípulos comunes y corrientes compartían el evangelio, la Santa Cena e incluso eran misioneros (Hechos 2:46; 8:12; 11:19-21). Cuando Lucas habla de la rápida propagación del evangelio en ciertas regiones, no fue porque Pablo hablara a todos los habitantes de Asia, sino porque los habitantes de Asia se pusieron manos a la obra (Hechos 19:10).
La tarea es demasiado grande e importante como para prescindir de la mano de obra necesaria para alcanzar a cada tribu, lengua y nación con el evangelio. Hay demasiado trabajo por hacer como para no capacitar a cada hombre, mujer, niño y niña para hacer discípulos y ser la iglesia al máximo de sus capacidades. Necesitamos que cada creyente ponga manos a la obra para avanzar el reino de Dios y completar la Gran Comisión. Me apasiona mucho esto, ¿se nota?
La respuesta para proteger el ministerio no es la restricción ni la centralización. La respuesta es una buena capacitación y la descentralización.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicar. Aquí les dejo algunas ideas:
Realicen un estudio bíblico sobre la diferencia entre el sacerdocio del antiguo pacto y el obrero del nuevo pacto.
Vean mi Parábola de los Pozos (Hagan clic en el enlace o busquen esto en YouTube).
MAWL los Discípulos: Modelar, Ayudar, Vigilar y Lanzar
Hermanos y hermanas, dejemos de limitar el ministerio y dejemos que cada creyente comparta las buenas nuevas y haga discípulos. ¡Formen a los creyentes, envíenlos y vean cómo el reino de Dios crece como la semilla de mostaza!
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
The Significance of “Thy Kingdom Come”: A Prayer for God’s Reign Through Christ
Introduction: The Prayer of Jesus and Its Context
In Matthew 6:9-13 and Luke 11:2-4, Jesus teaches His disciples how to pray, offering a model that encapsulates the heart of God’s redemptive plan. Central to this prayer is the petition “Thy kingdom come,” a plea rich with theological depth and prophetic hope. Spoken in a Roman-occupied Judea, where earthly kings dominated, Jesus redirects His followers to the ultimate sovereignty of God. This essay explores the linguistic roots, theological significance, and christological fulfillment of “Thy kingdom come,” revealing Jesus as the Messiah-King whose lordship transforms believers today and anticipates the fullness of God’s eternal reign.
Etymological Roots: Defining “Thy Kingdom Come”
The phrase “Thy kingdom come” in Matthew 6:10 (Greek: ἐλθάτω ἡ βασιλεία σου, elthatō hē basileia sou) and Luke 11:2 centers on basileia (G932 in Strong’s Concordance), meaning “kingdom” or “reign.” Derived from basis (“foundation”) and bainō (“to walk”), it suggests a dynamic rule grounded in authority. The verb elthatō (from erchomai, G2064), meaning “to come” or “arrive,” conveys urgency and expectation. In Aramaic, which Jesus likely spoke, the phrase parallels the Hebrew malkut (kingdom), often tied to God’s covenantal reign in the Old Testament (e.g., Psalm 145:13). This linguistic foundation frames the prayer as a request for God’s active, sovereign intervention—fulfilled supremely in Jesus, the Messianic King.
Theological Significance: The Kingdom and God’s Will
Theologically, “Thy kingdom come” is inseparable from “Thy will be done” (Matthew 6:10), linking God’s reign to His purpose. In heaven, His will is perfectly executed; on earth, it contends with human rebellion. Jesus, as the obedient Son, models this alignment, praying in Gethsemane, “Not My will, but Yours, be done” (Luke 22:42). His life—teaching, healing, and defeating evil—embodies the kingdom’s inbreaking (Matthew 12:28). This prayer thus reveals divine attributes: God’s holiness (“Hallowed be Your name”), sovereignty, and redemptive intent. It prophetically anticipates Christ’s return, when “the kingdom of the world” becomes “the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ” (Revelation 11:15).
Christological Fulfillment: Jesus as King Now and Forever
Jesus is the perfect exemplar of this prayer. As Messiah, He inaugurates God’s kingdom, declaring, “The kingdom of God is at hand” (Mark 1:15). His miracles and authority over sin and death (John 11:25-26) demonstrate His present lordship, not merely a future hope. Yet, the kingdom’s ultimate fulfillment awaits His return (Matthew 25:31-34). This dual reality—Christ reigning now amid a fallen world, yet fully in eternity—echoes Hebrews 2:8-9: “At present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to Him. But we see Jesus… crowned with glory.” Praying “Thy kingdom come” aligns us with His kingship today while yearning for its consummation.
Implications for Believers: Transformative Prayer
For contemporary Christians, this prayer is transformative. It reorients us to God as Father/Son-King, fosters dependence (John 15:5), and compels kingdom living—justice, mercy, and humility (Micah 6:8). Modeled by Jesus, it calls disciple-makers to teach others to seek God’s will, embodying His reign in a broken world. Its power lies in its revelation of Jesus’ lordship—real now, yet expansive in eternity—uniting ancient hope with present faith.
Conclusion: A Prayer That Shapes Eternity
“Thy kingdom come” is more than words; it’s a declaration of God’s redemptive plan through Christ. From its linguistic richness to its theological depth, it unveils a King who reigns today and forever. For believers, it’s a call to live under Jesus’ lordship now, anticipating the day when every knee bows (Philippians 2:10-11). This prayer, taught by the Messiah Himself, bridges heaven and earth, past and future, inviting us into the eternal values of God’s kingdom.
Disciple-Maker’s Short Story
The Road Home
The minivan rumbled over the frost-dusted road, tires grinding against the February grit. Sam’s hands rested steady on the wheel, his eyes flicking between the windshield and the rearview mirror, where the kids’ silhouettes jostled in the back. Beside him, Julie tugged her scarf loose, her breath fogging faintly in the chilly cabin as she scrolled through her phone—likely skimming the church app’s sermon notes.
“So,” Sam said, his voice cutting through the hum of the engine, “what did you two think of the Lord’s Prayer today? You know, when Pastor Bill had us all say it?”
Eleven-year-old Mia twisted a strand of dark hair, her sneakers scuffing the seatback. “It’s kinda old-timey. ‘Hallowed be Thy name’—who even says ‘Thy’ anymore?”
“Yeah,” Ethan piped up, nine and wiry, his tone brimming with mischief. “And ‘Thy kingdom come’? I saw God dropping out of the sky with a giant crown, like—BOOM!—‘Here’s My kingdom, peasants!’” He flung his arms wide, smacking Mia’s elbow.
“Ow! Stop it!” Mia shoved him back, her scowl sharpening. “It’s not a cartoon, dummy. It’s serious.”
Sam’s lips quirked, but he kept his eyes on the road. “Hey, no brawling back there. Ethan, hands to yourself. Mia, easy on the names. But you’re both in the ballpark. What do you think happens when we pray ‘Thy kingdom come’?”
Ethan leaned forward, seatbelt taut, grinning unabashedly. “Maybe aliens invade! God’s kingdom’s a spaceship, and Jesus is the captain, zapping bad guys with lasers!”
Julie stifled a laugh, tucking her phone into her coat pocket. “Lasers? Creative, but I think Jesus has better moves. What about you, Mia?”
Mia crossed her arms, staring out at the skeletal trees whipping past. “I dunno. Maybe… it’s asking for everything to be perfect? Like no more fights or mean people. But that sounds boring. Nothing would happen.”
The van quieted, the engine’s drone filling the space. Sam’s fingers tightened on the wheel, his mind brushing against that essay Julie had shared—how “Thy kingdom come” wasn’t a passive wish, but a bold cry for Jesus’ reign to crash into the now. He caught Julie’s eye, and she nodded, picking up the thread.
“That’s not boring, Mia,” Julie said, her voice warm but steady. “Think about Jesus—He didn’t wait for perfect. He healed people, fed them, faced down the Pharisees. When we pray that, we’re asking for His kingdom to break in—right here, messy as it is.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed, his earlier glee softening into curiosity. “So… it’s not just God zapping stuff? We do stuff too?”
Sam eased the van around a curve, his tone brightening with that quiet fire Julie adored. “You got it, bud. Jesus said the kingdom’s already here—like a seed growing. Remember how He prayed in the garden? ‘Not My will, but Yours’? He didn’t dodge the hard stuff. He stepped into it, trusting God. Praying ‘Thy kingdom come’ means we want that too—His will, His way, even when it’s tough.”
Mia uncrossed her arms, her voice thinning. “But what if I mess up? I yelled at Ethan today, and I wasn’t nice to Lily at recess last week. Does that mean the kingdom’s not coming?”
Julie turned in her seat, the red glow of a stoplight washing over her face as Sam slowed the van. “No, sweetie. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about wanting to be like Jesus—bit by bit. He’s the King who forgives, who keeps shaping us. Praying it means letting Him change us, not just the world.”
Ethan’s eyes widened, his voice unusually soft. “So it’s like… asking to be brave like Him? Like when He faced the cross?”
Sam reached back with one hand, ruffling Ethan’s hair while keeping the other on the wheel. “Nailed it. Brave, kind, full of love—even when it’s scary. That’s His kingdom breaking in. And every time we try that, it’s like heaven touches down a little.”
The light flipped green, and Sam nudged the van forward, the road unfurling like a whispered vow. Mia nudged Ethan—a peace offering—and he grinned, muttering something about Jesus with a lightsaber. Laughter erupted, raw and free, mingling with the engine’s hum.
As the familiar streets of their neighborhood emerged from the blur of trees, Julie felt it—a spark of that kingdom, fragile yet fierce, flickering in their voices, their questions, their untamed hope. She murmured a prayer under her breath: Thy kingdom come—in us, through us, like You, Jesus. The road home stretched on, and somehow, it shimmered with something sacred.
An argument started among the disciples as to which of them would be the greatest. They came to Capernaum and while Jesus was in the house, He asked them, “What were you discussing on the way?” But they were silent, for on the way they had been arguing about which of them was the greatest. Then the disciples asked Jesus, “Who then is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” But Jesus, knowing the thoughts of their hearts, sat down and called the Twelve and said, “If anyone wants to be first, he must be the last of all and the servant of all.”
Jesus invited a little child to stand beside Him and taking the child in His arms, He said to them, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes a little child like this in My name welcomes Me, and whoever welcomes Me welcomes not only Me, but the One who sent Me.” For whoever is the least among all of you, he is the greatest.”
My Thoughts
Greatness is not the problem, it’s how we strive to get there. The problem with the Twelve is that they were so typically like the world, they were actually going the wrong direction. This is part of Jesus’ “Right Side Up” theology.
“If anyone wants to be first, he must be the last of all and the servant of all.”
The world has it upside down. According to the world you have to scrape, and scratch, and scheme your way to greatness. Jesus says you have to serve, submit, and sacrifice your way to greatness.
As disciple-makers we will struggle with the desire ourselves and deal with this ambition in those we mentor. Notice Jesus didn’t squelch the desire to be great. He just showed them the right way to get there. We can unintentionally wield the heavy mallet of criticism, stifling ambition and dampening the zeal of Jesus’ disciples to excel and accomplish great things for God. We don’t want to turn the disciples of Jesus into a bunch of wet noodles. Instead, we should channel their passion and zeal, guiding them to pursue greatness through humble service, steadfast submission, and sacrificial love, as Jesus modeled, so they can boldly impact the world for His glory.
My Story
I like reading military history and after several years of analyzing conflict through the lens of some great writers I’ve come to realize that there are always two wars being fought simultaneously. The first is the war itself and the second is the internal conflict among generals within their own ranks. Usually this strife is associated with pride, ambition, and an intense desire to be recognized. I think we see the same thing in the church; the spiritual battle and the battles amongst ourselves. I can think of several ways to avoid this inner squabbling:
Acknowledge we only have one King – Jesus is our ultimate authority and we do what He tells us to do.
Acknowledge the King has given different orders to different commanders – Stay in our lane and appreciate and support those in a different lane
Acknowledge our primary role as a servant of the King and others – Look for ways to ensure success not only of what we are doing but also the enterprise of others
Acknowledge that we can’t do it all and the mission can’t be accomplished without interdependence on others – We are part of a body with various gifts
Acknowledging that our individual contribution is just as important as others – We should throw our full weight behind whatever we are called to do for the sake of the whole
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Are you striving for greatness…the way Jesus describes?
Teach and model servanthood for those you are discipling.
Do a Bible study with those you are discipling on how Jesus served people (and how people expected Him to serve them).
So, let’s keep our hearts set on true greatness, the kind Jesus taught—humble service and sacrificial love. By channeling our zeal to lift others up, we’ll shine bright for His glory and make a real difference in this world.
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver cómo Jesús se dirigió a quienes querían ser grandes.
Comencemos.
Mateo 18:1-5, Marcos 9:33-37, Lucas 9:46-48
Se suscitó una discusión entre los discípulos sobre quién de ellos sería el mayor. Llegaron a Capernaúm y, mientras Jesús estaba en casa, les preguntó: «¿Qué discutían por el camino?». Pero guardaron silencio, pues durante el camino habían estado discutiendo sobre quién de ellos sería el mayor. Entonces los discípulos le preguntaron a Jesús: «¿Quién es, pues, el mayor en el reino de los cielos?». Pero Jesús, conociendo sus pensamientos, se sentó, llamó a los Doce y les dijo: «Si alguno quiere ser el primero, que sea el último de todos y el servidor de todos». Jesús invitó a un niño pequeño a ponerse de pie junto a él y, tomándolo en brazos, les dijo: «Les aseguro que si no cambian y se hacen como niños pequeños, no entrarán en el reino de los cielos. Por lo tanto, el que se humille como este niño pequeño, ése es el mayor en el reino de los cielos. Y el que reciba a un niño pequeño como este en mi nombre, me recibe a mí; y el que me recibe a mí, no solo me recibe a mí, sino también al que me envió». Porque el más pequeño entre todos ustedes, ése es el mayor.
Mis Pensamientos
La grandeza no es el problema, sino cómo nos esforzamos por alcanzarla. El problema con los Doce es que, típicamente como el mundo, iban en la dirección equivocada. Esto forma parte de la teología del “Correcto”.
“Si alguno quiere ser el primero, que sea el último de todos y el servidor de todos”.
El mundo está patas arriba. Según el mundo, hay que luchar, arañar y maquinar para alcanzar la grandeza. Jesús dice que hay que servir, someterse y sacrificar para alcanzarla.
Como hacedores de discípulos, lucharemos con ese deseo y lidiaremos con esta ambición en aquellos a quienes asesoramos. Observen que Jesús no aplastó el deseo de ser grande. Simplemente les mostró el camino correcto para lograrlo. Sin querer, podemos usar el mazo de madera de la crítica, sofocando la ambición y apagando el celo de los discípulos de Jesús por sobresalir y lograr grandes cosas para Dios. No queremos convertir a los discípulos de Jesús en un montón de fideos mojados. En cambio, debemos canalizar su pasión y celo, guiándolos a buscar la grandeza a través del servicio humilde, la sumisión firme y el amor sacrificial, como lo modeló Jesús, para que puedan impactar con valentía el mundo para Su gloria.
Mi Historia
Me gusta leer historia militar y, tras varios años analizando conflictos a través de la perspectiva de grandes escritores, me he dado cuenta de que siempre se libran dos guerras simultáneamente. La primera es la guerra misma y la segunda es el conflicto interno entre los generales dentro de sus propias filas. Creo que vemos lo mismo en la iglesia: la batalla espiritual y las batallas entre nosotros. Se me ocurren varias maneras de evitar estas disputas internas:
Reconocer que solo tenemos un Rey: Jesús es nuestra máxima autoridad y hacemos lo que Él nos dice. Reconocer que el Rey ha dado órdenes diferentes a los distintos comandantes. Mantenernos en nuestro carril, apreciar y apoyar a quienes están en un carril diferente.
Reconocer nuestro papel principal como siervos del Rey y de los demás. Buscar maneras de asegurar el éxito no solo de lo que estamos haciendo, sino también de la iniciativa de otros.
Reconocer que no podemos hacerlo todo y que la misión no se puede cumplir sin la interdependencia de los demás. Somos parte de un cuerpo con diversos dones.
Reconocer que nuestra contribución individual es tan importante como la de los demás. Debemos poner todo nuestro esfuerzo en todo lo que se nos llama a hacer por el bien de todos.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicar. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
¿Te esfuerzas por alcanzar la grandeza… como la describe Jesús?
Enseña y modela el servicio para quienes discipulas.
Realiza un estudio bíblico con quienes discipulas sobre cómo Jesús sirvió a la gente (y cómo esperaban que Él los sirviera).
Así que, mantengamos nuestros corazones puestos en la verdadera grandeza, la que Jesús enseñó: servicio humilde y amor sacrificial. Al canalizar nuestro celo para ayudar a otros, brillaremos para su gloria y marcaremos una verdadera diferencia en este mundo.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
After they had arrived in Capernaum, the collectors of the two-drachma tax came to Peter and asked, “Does your Teacher pay the two drachmas?” “Yes,” he answered. When Peter entered the house, Jesus preempted him. “What do you think, Simon?” He asked. “From whom do the kings of the earth collect customs and taxes: from their own sons, or from others?” “From others,” Peter answered. “Then the sons are exempt,” Jesus declared. “But so that we may not offend them, go to the sea, cast a hook, and take the first fish you catch. When you open its mouth, you will find a four-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for My tax and yours.”
My Thoughts
Did you catch it? Once again the lesson is buried under a miracle. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind being told to catch a fish and find enough money in its mouth to pay my taxes. That would be awesome! But there’s a deeper lesson here. One that is important for disciple-makers and anyone else that would like to preserve peace in relationships. It’s the miracle of diplomacy. Jesus’ question to Peter makes it clear that the tax collectors were not doing what was fair or maybe even legal in a normal society. Of course you don’t tax your own family. This is why the Jews hated the tax collectors. They were “traitors” taxing their own for the Romans and getting their cut on the side.
Now Jesus could have righteously responded in several ways. He could refuse to pay the tax. He could rally a protest against the government demanding His rights. He could have called down hail, fire, and brimstone on these greedy tax collectors. But instead, He chooses a path that preserves peace and teaches a profound lesson in diplomacy. Jesus instructs Peter to pay the tax, not because it’s just or owed, but to avoid unnecessary conflict and maintain a witness that prioritizes humility over confrontation.
But before we go off the deep end on the idea of diplomacy, let’s look at Jesus in some other circumstances. What about confronting the Pharisees? He called them names like Hypocrites, Blind guides, Fools, Serpents, Whitewashed tombs, etc… (Matthew 23:13-33) Whew! That’s not very diplomatic in my book. What about making a whip and cleaning out the temple of all the “concessions.” (John 2:13-16) Nope, not very diplomatic either.
So how did Jesus know when to turn on the diplomacy or not? The simple answer is the Father told Him (John 5:19). We also know that Jesus was knee deep in the Scriptures, full of the Spirit, and prayed up. And as disciples and disciple-makers, it would be wise for us to do the same.
My Story
I was being raked over the coals for a theological issue and it got down right ugly. The minor disagreement became a “Paul and Barnabas Event” and we had to part ways. I didn’t fight back, no screaming and yelling, no backbiting, or sabotage. I simply took it on the chin and left. Later one of the men I had discipled went through the same thing for the same issue. Now I let the leaders have it with both barrels! I didn’t lose my composure but I was firm and more prophetic than I usually am. So what was the difference? Why in one situation I “took one for the team” and the other I “came off the top ropes?”
Two things come to mind. In the first situation it was a personal assault against me. I felt like maybe God was doing something like when David left Jerusalem and Shimei was hurling abuses and rocks at him. David trusted God with the circumstances and responded;
“Let him alone and let him curse, for the LORD has told him. Perhaps the LORD will look on my affliction and return good to me instead of his cursing this day.” (2 Samuel 16:11-12)
In the second situation with my friend I felt like it was my shepherding duty to fend off the attackers and defend my brother. I have a saying, “If you ever want to see a Shepherd go Prophet, mess with the sheep.”
The other reason was wisdom from the Word and Holy Spirit. I felt like I had a red light to defend myself and a green light to defend my friend. I’m sure this is how Jesus operated in every circumstance, receiving wisdom to do exactly the right thing.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Are you abiding in Christ enough to be guided by Him on when to be diplomatic or not?
Are you quick to engage or quick to run from conflict? What is Jesus telling you right now?
Discuss these questions with those you are discipling and find Scripture to guide the discussion.
In the end, Jesus shows us that diplomacy is a miracle worth learning, guided by the Father’s wisdom. As disciples, let’s stay rooted in Scripture and prayer to know when to speak up or hold our peace.
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos el Evangelio de Mateo para ver cómo Jesús usó la diplomacia para evitar ofender a otros y cuándo no.
Comencemos.
Mateo 17:24-27
Después de llegar a Capernaúm, los cobradores del impuesto de dos dracmas se acercaron a Pedro y le preguntaron: «¿Tu Maestro paga las dos dracmas?». «Sí», respondió. Cuando Pedro entró en la casa, Jesús se le adelantó. «¿Qué te parece, Simón?», preguntó. «¿De quién cobran los reyes de la tierra los impuestos y los tributos: de sus propios hijos o de los demás?». «De los demás», respondió Pedro. «Entonces los hijos están exentos», declaró Jesús. «Pero para no ofenderlos, ve al mar, echa el anzuelo y el primer pez que pesques. Al abrirlo, encontrarás una moneda de cuatro dracmas. Tómala y dásela por mi impuesto y el tuyo».
Mis Pensamientos
¿Lo captaste? Una vez más, la lección queda sepultada bajo un milagro. No me malinterpretes, no me importaría que me dijeran que pescara un pez y encontrara suficiente dinero en su boca para pagar mis impuestos. ¡Sería genial! Pero hay una lección más profunda aquí. Una que es importante para quienes hacen discípulos y para cualquiera que desee preservar la paz en las relaciones. Es el milagro de la diplomacia. La pregunta de Jesús a Pedro deja claro que los recaudadores de impuestos no estaban haciendo lo justo, ni siquiera lo legal, en una sociedad normal. Claro que uno no cobra impuestos a su propia familia. Por eso los judíos odiaban a los recaudadores de impuestos. Eran “traidores” que cobraban impuestos a los suyos para los romanos y se llevaban su tajada.
Ahora bien, Jesús podría haber respondido con justicia de varias maneras. Podría negarse a pagar el impuesto. Podría organizar una protesta contra el gobierno que exigía sus derechos. Podría haber invocado granizo, fuego y azufre sobre estos codiciosos recaudadores de impuestos. Pero en cambio, elige un camino que preserva la paz y enseña una profunda lección de diplomacia. Jesús le ordena a Pedro que pague el impuesto, no porque sea justo ni debido, sino para evitar conflictos innecesarios y mantener un testimonio que priorice la humildad sobre la confrontación.
Pero antes de profundizar en la idea de la diplomacia, veamos a Jesús en otras circunstancias. ¿Y qué tal cuando confrontó a los fariseos? Los llamó hipócritas, guías ciegos, necios, serpientes, sepulcros blanqueados, etc. (Mateo 23:13-33). ¡Uf! Eso no me parece muy diplomático. ¿Y qué tal si se azota y se limpia el templo de todas las “concesiones”? (Juan 2:13-16). No, tampoco es muy diplomático.
Entonces, ¿cómo sabía Jesús cuándo usar la diplomacia o no? La respuesta es sencilla: el Padre se lo dijo (Juan 5:19). También sabemos que Jesús estaba inmerso en las Escrituras, lleno del Espíritu y oraba con intensidad. Y como discípulos y hacedores de discípulos, sería sabio que hiciéramos lo mismo.
Mi Historia
Me estaban dando fuertes broncas por un asunto teológico y la cosa se puso fea. El pequeño desacuerdo se convirtió en un “evento Pablo y Bernabé” y tuvimos que separarnos. No me defendí, no grité ni vociferé, no murmuré ni saboté. Simplemente acepté las consecuencias y me fui. Más tarde, uno de los hombres a los que había discipulado pasó por lo mismo por el mismo problema. ¡Ahora les di la lata a los líderes! No perdí la compostura, pero me mantuve firme y más profético de lo habitual. Entonces, ¿cuál fue la diferencia? ¿Por qué en una situación “me salvé por el equipo” y en la otra “me lancé desde la cuerda superior”?
Me vienen a la mente dos cosas. En la primera, fue un ataque personal contra mí. Sentí que tal vez Dios estaba haciendo algo como cuando David salió de Jerusalén y Simei le lanzaba insultos y piedras. David confió en Dios ante las circunstancias y respondió. “Déjalo, que maldiga, porque el SEÑOR se lo ha dicho. Quizás el SEÑOR mire mi aflicción y me devuelva el bien en lugar de su maldición de hoy.” (2 Samuel 16:11-12)
En la segunda situación con mi amigo, sentí que mi deber como pastor era defender a los atacantes y a mi hermano. Tengo un dicho: “Si quieres ver a un pastor convertirse en profeta, métete con las ovejas”.
La otra razón fue la sabiduría de la Palabra y del Espíritu Santo. Sentí que tenía luz roja para defenderme y luz verde para defender a mi amigo. Estoy seguro de que así es como Jesús actuó en cada circunstancia, recibiendo sabiduría para hacer exactamente lo correcto.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicar. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
¿Permaneces en Cristo lo suficiente como para que Él te guíe sobre cuándo ser diplomático o no?
¿Eres rápido para involucrarte o para huir del conflicto? ¿Qué te está diciendo Jesús ahora mismo?
Dialoga estas preguntas con tus discípulos y busca la Biblia para guiar la conversación.
En definitiva, Jesús nos muestra que la diplomacia es un milagro que vale la pena aprender, guiados por la sabiduría del Padre. Como discípulos, aferrémonos a la Biblia y a la oración para saber cuándo hablar o callar.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
I’ve been watching you but lately I’ve noticed some very interesting things about you. My interest peaked at the beginning of this summer when…
You started looking for places for your folks in hopes that they would move back to San Antonio.
You invited your folks to “watch our cat” while we were on vacation in Alaska visiting the kids.
While on vacation you spent hours with grandkids as Wes and Tina moved from one house to another.
You made dozens of texts and phone calls coordinating a sudden but pleasantly surprising decision of your folks to not only move to SA but not even take the return flight to Alabama.
When we flew home you muscled through the first days of the flu helping your folks secure their new place.
You finally took two days to rest when you noticed you had one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel.
Out of bed, you shopped till you dropped getting the folks new furniture.
Having relocated your folks to their new place, it was time to host your brother and visiting friend (you barely had time to wash sheets and make beds).
You reached deep into your pockets for finances and resources to bless everyone around you.
And all the while taking care of me, the husband who is so disabled he can’t even take out the trash.
I’m beyond impressed. I am amazed. Some men brag saying they “married up.” I married an “Omnidirectional” woman with no limits. I’m proud of you and I’m sure Jesus is proud of you, becoming just like Him.
PS. No AI was used in writing this ode to my love.
As I was praying the Lord’s Prayer one morning, I was reflecting on this question: “Why did the Father give the Son (Jesus) the kingdom?”—especially in light of the fact that He would give it back to His Father in the end.
“Then comes the end, when He hands over the kingdom to the God and Father, when He has abolished all rule and all authority and power.” (1 Corinthians 15:24)
Why Did the Father Give the Kingdom to the Son?
The Father entrusted the kingdom to Jesus to restore humanity’s original purpose, correcting the failures of the first Adam, demonstrating perfect dominion, and empowering believers to live as faithful stewards of God’s creation. This essay explores this divine plan through four key elements: the contrast between the First Adam and the Last Adam, the restoration of God’s kingdom, Jesus as the perfect example, and the renewal of humanity’s role through Christ.
The First Adam vs. the Last Adam
The Bible contrasts the first Adam, who failed in his God-given role, with Jesus, the “Last Adam” 1 Corinthians 15:45. Adam was created to rule over creation as God’s representative Genesis 1:26-28, but his disobedience introduced sin, corrupting humanity and creation Romans 5:12. Jesus, however, succeeded where Adam failed. Through His perfect obedience, even unto death Philippians 2:8, and His resurrection, Jesus overcame sin and death, redeeming creation and establishing His authority as King Philippians 2:9-11.
Restoring God’s Kingdom
By giving Jesus authority over all things Matthew 28:18, the Father restores His design for creation. Jesus’ reign demonstrates how humanity was meant to live—under God’s authority with humility, love, and righteousness. Romans 5:18-19 underscores this: through Adam’s disobedience, many were made sinners, but through Jesus’ obedience, many are made righteous. His kingship defeats sin and rebellion, aligning creation with God’s will 1 Corinthians 15:24-28. Jesus’ rule reflects God’s character, bringing life and peace, and prepares creation for its ultimate restoration when He delivers the kingdom to the Father 1 Corinthians 15:24.
Jesus as the Perfect Example
Jesus, as the Last Adam 1 Corinthians 15:45, models God’s original design for dominion. His life exemplified servant leadership Mark 10:45, humility Philippians 2:5-8, and sacrificial love John 15:13. Through His teachings and miracles—such as healing the sick and calming storms—Jesus showed care for creation and humanity, reflecting God’s desire for flourishing. His righteous rule, marked by justice and peace Isaiah 9:6-7, sets the standard for how humanity was meant to steward creation, in harmony with God’s will, rather than exploiting it as Adam did.
Restoring Our Role Through Christ
Through Jesus’ redemptive work, believers are restored to their role as God’s image-bearers, called to steward creation faithfully. Empowered by the Holy Spirit, we are conformed to Christ’s image Romans 8:29 to fulfill our original mandate: to care for creation Genesis 2:15, lead with humility Matthew 20:26-28, and live righteously Micah 6:8. As Ephesians 2:10 states, we are created in Christ for good works, renewing our purpose to reflect God’s glory in our stewardship of His kingdom.
Conclusion
The Father gave the kingdom to Jesus to correct Adam’s failure, restore God’s design for creation, and provide a perfect example of righteous dominion. Through Christ, believers are empowered to fulfill their calling as stewards of God’s creation, living with humility, love, and righteousness. Jesus’ reign not only redeems humanity but also points to the ultimate restoration of all things, when the kingdom is returned to the Father, fulfilling God’s redemptive plan.
Disciple-Maker’s Short Story
The Kingdom’s Yield
The sun cracked the horizon, spilling gold across the Kansas wheat fields, the stalks swaying like a silent hymn. Jared and Phil leaned against the hulking green frame of a John Deere combine harvester, its metal cool against their backs despite the warming dawn. Steam curled from their thermos of coffee, the bitter scent mingling with the earth’s damp breath. They’d been up since before light, preparing for the harvest, but now they paused, Bibles open, voices low in prayer.
“‘Thy kingdom come,’” Jared murmured, finishing the Lord’s Prayer, his breath visible in the crisp air. He was young, barely twenty, his hands calloused but his faith still tender, searching. Phil, weathered and sixty, with eyes like the sky before a storm, nodded quietly, his own prayer a steady undercurrent.
They turned to 1 Corinthians 15, reading in turns, their voices weaving with the rustle of wheat. When they reached verse 24—“Then comes the end, when He hands over the kingdom to the God and Father, when He has abolished all rule and all authority and power.”—Jared paused, his finger tracing the words. He frowned, his brow knitting.
“I’ve read this before,” he said, voice low, almost to himself, “but I never saw it like this. The Son… giving the kingdom back to the Father? Why’s that matter so much?”
Phil took a slow sip of coffee, his eyes on the horizon where the sun climbed higher, painting the fields in fire. He set the thermos on the combine’s step, his movements deliberate, like a man who’d learned to measure time by seasons, not seconds.
“It’s the heart of it all, Jared,” Phil said, his voice gravelly but warm, like soil turned after rain. “The Father gave the kingdom to the Son to fix what we broke. Adam—first man—messed it up. Sin, pride, all that. Jesus, the Last Adam, He’s the one who makes it right. He rules like we were meant to—humble, just, full of love. And when He’s done, He hands it all back to the Father, pure and whole.”
Jared shifted, his boots scuffing the dirt. He was a thinker, always wrestling with the why of things. Raised in church, he knew the stories, but this felt different—bigger, like the fields stretching endless before them. “So, it’s about… what? Showing us how to live?”
Phil chuckled, a sound like dry leaves. “More than that. It’s about why we live. Look at this field.” He gestured to the wheat, golden heads bowing under their own weight. “God gave Adam a garden to tend, to rule with care. He didn’t. We’ve been breaking things ever since—land, people, ourselves. Jesus takes the kingdom, shows us how it’s done. He heals, He serves, He loves even to the cross. That’s what dominion looks like. Not grabbing power, but giving it back, clean.”
Jared’s eyes followed the wheat, imagining Jesus walking these fields, His hands brushing the stalks, His voice calming storms. He thought of his own life—his temper, his doubts, the way he’d snapped at his sister last week over nothing. “I don’t know if I can live like that,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Phil turned, his gaze steady, not judging but seeing, the way he could spot a blight in the crop from a hundred yards. “None of us can, not on our own. That’s why He sent the Spirit. You read Romans 8:29? We’re being shaped into His image, Jared. Every time you choose patience over anger, love over pride, you’re stepping into that. You’re tending the kingdom, same as this field.”
The combine loomed behind them, a machine of precision and power, built to reap what was sown. Jared thought of the harvest—how the machine separated grain from chaff, how it gathered what was good and left the rest behind. He wanted that clarity in himself, to cut away the mess and keep what mattered.
“I want to be like Him,” Jared said, the words spilling out, raw and earnest. “Like Jesus. Not just… doing good, but living like He did. Humble. True.”
Phil smiled, lines deepening around his eyes. “That’s the prayer, son. Start small. Tend what’s in front of you—your family, this land, your heart. The Spirit’ll do the rest, same as He grows this wheat. You just keep showing up.”
The sun was fully up now, the fields ablaze with light. Jared felt a stirring, not just in his chest but deeper, like a seed breaking open. He looked at Phil, then at the Bible still open in his hands, the words of 1 Corinthians 15:24 glowing like the dawn. The kingdom wasn’t just a place, he realized—it was a way of being, a life surrendered, given back to the Father.
“C’mon,” Phil said, clapping Jared’s shoulder. “Let’s get this combine running. Got a harvest to bring in.”
As he climbed into the cab, Jared felt the weight of the moment settle, not heavy but hopeful. He’d tend the field today, and maybe, with God’s help, he’d tend his soul too—step by step, toward the One who’d shown the way.
Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke to see how even the Master disciple-maker found it hard to get His point across.
Going on from there, they passed through Galilee. But Jesus did not want anyone to know, because He was teaching His disciples. When His disciples gathered together in Galilee, Jesus told them, “Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men. They will kill Him, and on the third day He will be raised to life.” And the disciples were deeply grieved and did not understand this statement, it was veiled from them so that they could not comprehend it, and they were afraid to ask Him about it.
My Thoughts
As disciple-makers it is important to get concentrated time with those you are mentoring. I’ve mentioned before that Jesus got time alone with His disciples in a boat, a mountain top, and even on the shores of the Mediterranean near Tyre and Sidon. You can obviously see why He wanted to get time alone with them for this important announcement. But even being alone, without distraction, and focused on the few, they still didn’t get what He was trying to communicate. And here’s another crucial lesson for us as we pour our lives into others. Despite our best efforts, the men and women we are training may not comprehend our “crucial” lessons.
Here’s eight tips to navigate this tough but common circumstance when disciples “just don’t get it.”
Be patient! – Put yourself in their shoes and try to remember the times when some of the most simple truths eluded your understanding.
Pray – Notice that “it was veiled” from the disciples’ understanding. It may take Divine intervention to reveal a clear picture of what you are trying to explain.
Use Scripture – The Word of God is a powerful agent to bring understanding.
Tell Stories – Jesus was the Master Storyteller. As we try to get our point across, it may take putting the cookies on the lowest shelf with a simple story.
Draw It – Illustrations can be very helpful. A picture is worth a thousand words.
Questions – Encourage them to ask questions and ask questions yourself to verify understanding through feedback.
Come back and teach it again – Repetition is one of your secret weapons as a mentor. Repeat yourself in a repetitive manner. 🙂
Use the “Cool Uncle” – Deb and I learned this from raising our sons. Have a relative or a friend teach the lesson from their perspective. You might get a comment from the mentee like “Why didn’t you ever teach me this?” Just roll with it.
Communication will always be challenging. This is especially true in discipleship where we have an enemy constantly trying to muddy the waters. Be persistent. Eventually, they will get it.
My Story
I’ve been a disciple of Jesus for 45 years now and I’m amazed about how much I don’t understand about walking with Him. I’ve read my Bible daily, done intense Bible studies, and even been to Bible College and Seminary (some might say that explains everything, the seminary part that is). Yeah, I must confess, there are times when someone I’m discipling drops a little truth bomb on me and I let them know, “I’ve never seen that before!” I figure I’m talking to a pretty self-aware and humble crowd so I know I’m in good company.
Now some might quote James to me at this point, “Let not many of you become teachers, my brethren, knowing that as such we will incur a stricter judgment.” (James 3:1) But there are two problems;
Jesus has commanded us to teach! Check it out… (Matthew 28:18-20).
No teacher teaches everything accurately except for the Great Teacher Himself.
So you and I are stuck with a divine tension; To teach or not to teach, that is the question?
Here’s what helps me sleep at night. I teach people to read the Bible for themselves. This is a great safeguard for the disciple-maker and the best way to get to know the Master. So…if you’re reading my blog and not getting enough time in the Word, skip my blog and get the straight scoop from a Person who always gets it right!
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas:
Create a “Learner’s Environment” for those you are discipling. It’s safe to not know all the answers, make mistakes, and ask questions.
Share your weaknesses and misunderstandings with them creating a level and humble playing field.
Do a Bible study with them and answer this question; “Did Jesus ever model weakness in front of His disciples?”
Well, there you have it, even Jesus faced challenges getting His message across, so let’s keep pourin’ into others with patience and trust they’ll catch on. Just keep sharing the Word, telling stories, and leaning on the Master Teacher to make it all clear to them in time.
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver cómo incluso al Maestro hacedor de discípulos le costó transmitir su mensaje.
Comencemos.
Mateo 17:22-23, Marcos 9:30-32, Lucas 9:43b-45
De allí, pasaron por Galilea. Pero Jesús no quería que nadie lo supiera, pues estaba enseñando a sus discípulos. Cuando sus discípulos se reunieron en Galilea, Jesús les dijo: «Que estas palabras les penetren en los oídos: El Hijo del Hombre está a punto de ser entregado en manos de los hombres. Lo matarán, y al tercer día resucitará». Y los discípulos se entristecieron profundamente y no entendieron esta declaración; les estaba velada, de modo que no podían comprenderla, y tenían miedo de preguntarle al respecto.
Mis Pensamientos
Como hacedores de discípulos, es importante dedicar tiempo a la consciencia de quienes mentorean. Ya he mencionado que Jesús pasó tiempo a solas con sus discípulos en una barca, en la cima de una montaña e incluso en las orillas del Mediterráneo, cerca de Tiro y Sidón. Es evidente por qué quiso pasar tiempo a solas con ellos para este importante anuncio. Pero incluso estando solos, sin distracciones y centrados en unos pocos, seguían sin entender lo que Él intentaba comunicar. Y aquí hay otra lección crucial para nosotros al dedicar nuestra vida a los demás. A pesar de nuestros mejores esfuerzos, los hombres y mujeres que capacitamos pueden no comprender nuestras lecciones cruciales.
Aquí tienes ocho consejos para afrontar esta difícil pero común situación en la que los discípulos simplemente no lo entienden.
¡Ten paciencia!: Ponte en su lugar y recuerda las veces en que algunas de las verdades más sencillas se te escaparon.
Ora: Observa que estaba velado para la comprensión de los discípulos. Puede que se requiera la intervención divina para que se revele una imagen clara de lo que intentas explicar.
Usa las Escrituras: La Palabra de Dios es un medio poderoso para brindar comprensión.
Cuenta historias: Jesús fue el maestro narrador. Al intentar transmitir nuestro mensaje, puede que tengamos que dejar las galletas en el último estante con una historia sencilla.
Dibuja: Las ilustraciones pueden ser muy útiles. Una imagen vale más que mil palabras.
Preguntas: Anímalos a hacer preguntas y a hacerlas tú mismo para verificar la comprensión mediante la retroalimentación.
Regresa y enséñalo de nuevo: La repetición es una de tus armas secretas como mentor. Repítelo de forma repetitiva. 🙂
Usa el “Tío Genial”: Deb y yo aprendimos esto criando a nuestros hijos. Pide a un familiar o amigo que enseñe la lección desde su perspectiva. Podrías recibir un comentario del aprendiz como “¿Por qué nunca me enseñaste esto?”. Simplemente sigue adelante.
La comunicación siempre será un desafío. Esto es especialmente cierto en el discipulado, donde tenemos un enemigo que constantemente intenta enturbiar las aguas. Sé persistente. Con el tiempo, lo entenderán.
Mi Historia
Llevo 45 años siendo discípulo de Jesús y me asombra lo mucho que no entiendo sobre caminar con Él. He leído la Biblia a diario, he realizado estudios bíblicos intensos e incluso he ido a un instituto bíblico y a un seminario (algunos dirían que eso lo explica todo, al menos el seminario). Sí, debo confesar que a veces alguien a quien discipulo me suelta una pequeña bomba de verdad y le digo: “¡Nunca había visto eso!”. Supongo que estoy hablando con un grupo bastante consciente y humilde, así que sé que estoy en buena compañía.
Ahora bien, algunos podrían citarme a Santiago en este punto: “Hermanos míos, no os hagáis muchos maestros, sabiendo que como tales recibiremos un juicio más severo” (Santiago 3:1). Pero hay dos problemas:
¡Jesús nos ha mandado a enseñar! Fíjense bien… (Mateo 28:18-20).
Ningún maestro enseña todo con precisión, excepto el Gran Maestro mismo.
Así que tú y yo nos encontramos atrapados en una tensión divina: ¿Enseñar o no enseñar? Esa es la cuestión.
Esto es lo que me ayuda a dormir por las noches: enseño a la gente a leer la Biblia por sí misma. Esta es una gran protección para quien hace discípulos y la mejor manera de conocer al Maestro. Así que… si lees mi blog y no dedicas suficiente tiempo a la Palabra, ¡sáltatelo y obtén la información directa de una persona que siempre acierta!
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicar. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
Crea un ambiente de aprendizaje para quienes estás discipulando. Es seguro no saber todas las respuestas, cometer errores y hacer preguntas.
Comparte tus debilidades y malentendidos con ellos, creando un ambiente de igualdad y humildad.
Organiza un estudio bíblico con ellos y responde a esta pregunta: “¿Alguna vez Jesús demostró debilidad frente a sus discípulos?”.
Bueno, ahí lo tienen: incluso Jesús enfrentó dificultades para transmitir su mensaje, así que sigamos inculcándolo a otros con paciencia y confiando en que lo entenderán. Simplemente sigan compartiendo la Palabra, contando historias y apoyándose en el Maestro para que con el tiempo se lo aclare todo.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
“Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way where I am going.”
John 14:1-4
Shadows Cast by Victory
The Confederation’s banners snapped in the crisp autumn breeze over its majestic capital, their crimson and gold fields a vivid counterpoint to the slate-gray spires of Navy Headquarters. Across the Orion Arm, from the core worlds to the rim, humanity celebrated the Battle of Dekar-9 and the miracle of Aroer Terra’s nova as a turning point in the war against the Rogue Artificial Intelligence and its bioengineered Skravak puppets. Holo-feeds blared triumphant anthems, and civic plazas overflowed with citizens chanting the names of the heroes who had carried Eden’s truth to victory: Lieutenant Wade Kovacs, Ensign Kristen Kovacs, Lieutenant Jay Ringler, and Lieutenant Mayumi Ringler.
For a month, the quartet endured the relentless glare of adulation. Wade, his prosthetic hand a quiet testament to battles past, stood stiffly at parade grounds, his Ranger dress blues immaculate but his gray-blue eyes distant, as admirals and senators pinned medals to his chest. Kristen, her analytical mind ill-suited to the pomp, forced smiles through endless banquets, her fingers brushing Wade’s in silent solidarity. Jay, ever the steady presence, offered gracious words to reporters, his faith anchoring him against the tide of hero-worship. Mayumi, her sharp intellect cloaked in quiet grace, deflected questions about the Skravak labs with practiced ease, her thoughts drifting to simpler dreams.
The fanfare was a double-edged blade. It honored their sacrifices—six months stranded on a moon they’d named Eden, the desperate gambit that shattered RAI’s fleet—but it chafed against their natures. None relished the spotlight. Wade, whose leadership had turned the tide, longed for the clarity of a mission. Kristen craved the hum of a lab or the open void. Jay and Mayumi, bound by love and shared trials, yearned for a life beyond the war’s shadow. At last, in a private audience with General Redside, they requested reprieve—a chance to step away, to reclaim some measure of the lives they’d set aside for duty.
Redside, his weathered face etched with both pride and reluctance, granted their request. “You’ve earned it,” he said, his voice gruff but warm. “But the Confederation will call again. It always does.”
Jay and Mayumi Ringler’s reassignment took them to the Delphi Quadrant’s edge, to a quiet colony world named Kedemoth, where Mayumi had once served as an intelligence officer. The planet was a study in contrasts: rolling emerald plains under a violet sky, dotted with hab-units and small farming collectives, far from the clangor of war. Here, the couple found a fragile peace. Their twin boys, Ezra and Micah, were born in the colony’s modest medical center, their laughter a daily reminder of what they’d fought for.
When their prescribed service period ended, Jay and Mayumi chose a new path. Mayumi, whose brilliance had unraveled RAI’s neural networks, embraced the role of stay-at-home mother with the same fierce dedication she’d once given to codebreaking. Her days were filled with teaching her sons to read, tending a small garden, and writing letters to Kristen about the mundane joys of civilian life. Jay, however, felt a deeper calling. Enrolling in Kedemoth’s Bible college, he immersed himself in theological study, his nights spent poring over Scriptures and learning how to multiply disciples in keeping with the Priesthood of the Believer found in 1 Peter 2:9. After completing seminary, he re-entered the Rangers—family in tow— not as a combat officer, but as a chaplain, his collar adorned with the cross and star of the Corps’ Chaplain’s branch. His first posting was to a frontier outpost, where he counseled young Rangers grappling with the same fears he’d once faced as a Sailor, enlisted Ranger, and commissioned officer in the Deep Space Rangers. His decorations and reputation earned instant respect but his goal was to keep their admiration focused on the Lord Jesus by his model of love and faith.
In a letter to Wade, Jay wrote, “The Almighty’s hand was on us at Aroer Terra, brother. Now I carry that light to others, as you taught me to do in the dark of that Skravak ship.”
Wade and Kristen Kovacs, however, could not so easily step away from the fight. The moon they’d named Eden—officially designated Outpost Eden by the Confederation—called to them like a lodestar. Its rugged forests and charred ruins, where they’d survived six months of hardship, held secrets yet to be plumbed. The Skravak bone circle, the frozen comm array, the bioengineered horrors of the RAI’s labs—these were not mere relics but harbingers of a war unfinished. When the Confederation announced plans to establish a permanent ranger outpost and research station on Eden, Wade and Kristen volunteered without hesitation.
Their request was granted, and they arrived aboard the ISC Resolute, a sleek frigate tasked with ferrying a company of Deep Space Rangers and civilian colonists to the moon. Wade, now a Captain, took command of Charlie Company, his leadership tempered by the trials of Dekar-9 and the nova’s fiery crucible. Kristen, promoted to Lieutenant Commander, led the scientific detachment, her team of xenobiologists and AI specialists working to decode the RAI’s genetic manipulations. Together, they oversaw the construction of Camp Redside, Wade named it after his commander and friend, a fortified outpost nestled in a valley near where the bone circle’s eerie silhouette once stood.
Life on Eden was austere but purposeful. Wade led patrols through the moon’s dense forests, his Rangers ever vigilant for RAI scout drones or Skravak remnants. Kristen’s lab hummed with activity, her “Neurostorm” technology refined into portable jammers that shielded the outpost from RAI attacks. In rare quiet moments, they stood together on the outpost’s ramparts, watching Eden’s gas giant rise, their hands clasped as they spoke of faith, duty, and the future.
“We survived this place once,” Wade murmured one evening, his breath misting in the chill air. “Now it’s ours to shape.”
Kristen nodded, her eyes on the horizon. “For the Confederation. For humanity. And for our God whose mercies are new every morning.”
Their work was not without cost. Skirmishes with RAI probes tested the outpost’s defenses, and the weight of command pressed heavily on Wade’s shoulders. Yet Eden was also a place of renewal. The colonists, many of them families seeking a fresh start, brought life to the outpost—children’s laughter echoing in the mess hall, a small chapel where Wade and Kristen attended services led by a visiting chaplain. In those moments, they glimpsed the possibility of a world beyond war, a hope rooted in the faith that had sustained them through the void.
Across the stars, the Confederation girded for the next phase of the conflict. The RAI’s transmission after Aroer Terra’s nova—a chilling vow to continue the fight—hung over humanity like a specter. Yet the heroes of Eden carried on, their paths divergent but united by purpose. Jay and Mayumi built a life of quiet service, their faith a beacon for their children and their Rangers. Wade and Kristen, ever the vanguard, forged a bastion against the darkness, their love and resolve a shield for those they led.
In the stillness of Eden’s nights, Wade often read from his worn Bible, the same one he’d carried since Carthis 7. Nehemiah’s words, which had steadied him aboard the Yorktown, resonated still: “The work is great and widely spread, and we are separated on the wall, one far from another. In the place where you hear the sound of the trumpet, rally to us there. Our God will fight for us.”
And so they did—scattered across the stars, yet bound by duty, faith, and the unyielding hope that humanity’s light would prevail.
Titans of Triumph
The Confederation’s triumph at Aroer Terra and the Battle of Dekar-9 reverberated through the halls of power, cementing the reputations of its architects as heroes of humanity’s survival. Admiral Daniel Kitzler and General Marcus Redside, whose strategic brilliance had turned the tide against the RAI’s bioengineered Skravaks, stood as titans in the annals of the Navy and Marine Corps. Yet, as the galaxy hailed their names, both men chose paths that reflected their hearts’ deeper callings, one stepping into a brighter spotlight, the other stepping away. Both leaving their marks in completely different ways.
Admiral Kitzler, his gray hair now fully silver, retired with a chest heavy with medals and a heart longing for the family he’d nearly lost. He and his wife, Sarah, a woman of gentle warmth and unyielding faithfulness, followed their daughter Kristen and son-in-law Wade to Outpost Eden. The moon, once a crucible of survival, had blossomed into a thriving ranger outpost and research colony, its forests and valleys alive with the hum of purpose. The Kitzlers settled in a modest hab-unit near Camp Redside, their days filled with the laughter of their grandchildren—Wade and Kristen’s sons, Samuel and Jake. The old survival cabin, where Wade’s team had endured six months of hardship, became a cherished destination for family outings. Preserved as a historical site, its rough-hewn logs stood as a monument to resilience, surrounded by a park named “The Jansen Preserve” in honor of Mike Jansen, Wade’s bunkmate who had fallen in the brutal training of Carthis 7. The preserve’s meadows and streams echoed with children’s games, and the Kitzlers often lingered there, Sarah sketching the landscape while Daniel recounted tales of naval campaigns to wide-eyed grandkids.
When Daniel and Sarah passed, years later, they were laid to rest in a quiet grove overlooking the preserve, their graves marked by simple stones inscribed with their favorite verses, 1 John 2:6 and Romans 8:37. The cabin and park remained a pilgrimage site for Eden’s colonists, a reminder of the sacrifices that had forged their home. Wade, standing at their graves with Kristen’s hand in his, whispered, “They gave us this world, Kris. And we’ll keep it safe for them.”
General Redside, by contrast, could not fully relinquish the fight. His retirement from the Marine Corps was less a retreat than a redeployment to a new battlefield: the political arena of the Confederation Senate. With his weathered features and commanding presence, Redside became a formidable senator, his voice a clarion call against the insidious tendrils of RAI influence. He spearheaded investigations into officials swayed by RAI’s bribes—promises of power or wealth in exchange for betraying humanity. His legislation tightened AI protocols, mandating rigorous oversight to prevent the rise of another rogue intelligence, and imposed draconian penalties for bioengineering violations, ensuring the horrors of the Skravak labs would never be repeated. Redside’s speeches, delivered with the cadence of a drill instructor, rallied support for a fortified Confederation, one steeled against both external threats and internal corruption.
Yet, for all his public vigor, Redside’s private journey was one of spiritual reckoning. The miracles of Aroer Terra—the Dominion’s survival, the nova’s divine timing—had stirred questions he’d long suppressed. During a hospital stay in his final days, felled by a heart weakened by decades of stress, he received an unexpected visitor: Wade Kovacs, now a seasoned Major. Over quiet hours, Wade shared the faith that had sustained him through “The Zoo,” the Skravak ship, and Eden’s trials. Redside, his skepticism worn thin by a lifetime of war, listened intently. In a moment of clarity, he professed Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, his voice steady despite his frailty. “I’ve fought for humanity,” he told Wade, gripping his hand. “Now I see who’s been fighting for me.” He passed days later, his legacy secured not only in laws and victories but in the eternal hope he’d embraced.
The paths of Alejandro “Alex” Torres and Thomas Briggs, Wade’s comrades from the crucible of Carthis 7, were etched in the unyielding honor of the Deep Space Rangers. Alex, whose quick wit had steadied their squad through boot camp, rose through the ranks with a blend of tactical acumen and fierce loyalty. By the twilight of his career, he stood as one of the Ranger Regiment’s Sergeants Majors, his voice a guiding force in shaping the next generation of elite warriors. Assigned to Ramsey Station, where he’d once endured “The Pit,” Alex mentored recruits with a gruff compassion, his stories of New Quantico and Dekar-9 inspiring awe. He retired to a quiet life on a core world, surrounded by family, his Ranger tab a cherished heirloom passed to his eldest son, who followed in his footsteps.
Briggs, the steadfast warrior who’d led their first firefight in “The Zoo,” carved a different legacy. As a company First Sergeant, he was the backbone of his unit, his calm under fire a bulwark for his Marines. But the war with RAI remained unrelenting. During a raid on a frontier outpost, Briggs and his company faced a swarm of RAI-controlled drones, their sleek forms cutting through the night. Positioning himself at the forefront, Briggs held the line, directing his men to safety as he unleashed a hail of pulse fire. A drone’s plasma lance struck him down, its precision lethal. Briggs fell, his sacrifice ensuring his company’s survival. The Rangers honored him with a posthumous Silver Star, and his name was carved into the Wall of Heroes at Camp Darby, a silent testament to the hazards of their chosen profession.
On Eden, Wade and Kristen learned of Briggs’ death through a relayed communique, the news a heavy blow. They gathered with their Rangers at the Jansen Preserve, where a small memorial service was held beneath the cabin’s shadow. Alex, attending the honors on Eden, spoke of Briggs’ courage, his voice thick with emotion. “He was one of us,” Alex said, “from Carthis 7 to the end. Rangers lead the way, and Briggs led us true.”
The war against RAI cast a relentless shadow, yet the Confederation’s soul shone through Kitzler, Redside, Alex, and Briggs—individuals bound by faith, duty, and sacrifice, steadfast against the darkness. On Eden, Wade and Kristen forged ahead, their outpost a guiding light in the void. Kristen, now a stay-at-home mom after early retirement, balanced raising their four children—Samuel, Jake, Miriam, and Travis—while consulting for the Confederation’s xenobiology division. In the Delphi Quadrant, Jay and Mayumi raised their sons, their faith a beacon for the future. Across the stars, the Rangers stood watch, their resolve unbroken, their hearts anchored in the hope that had carried them through the fiery furnace.
As Wade once read in Joshua, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”
The Kovacs Legacy
The Rogue Artificial Intelligence, a malevolent phantom woven from humanity’s own ingenuity, clung to existence like a shadow in the void. Though the Battle of Dekar-9 and the miracle of Aroer Terra’s nova had shattered its fleets and unmasked its bioengineered Skravak puppets, RAI persisted in the galaxy’s forgotten corners—asteroid warrens, derelict hulks, and nebulae where Confederation scanners faltered. Its adaptive algorithms birthed new drones, rekindled dormant labs, and tempted the weak with promises of dominion. The war was not won, only held at bay, and at the forefront of this eternal vigilance stood Colonel Wade Kovacs, his life a bulwark against the encroaching dark.
Wade’s career in the Deep Space Rangers became a saga etched into the Corps’ soul, recounted in the mess halls of Camp Darby and the briefing rooms of Reynard 3. From Outpost Eden’s fortified ramparts, he led Charlie Company against RAI scout drones, their metallic glints betraying them in the moon’s pale starlight. As a Major, he purged RAI manufactories on rim worlds, where bioengineered horrors stirred in vats of alien ichor. As a Colonel, he orchestrated system-wide offensives, synchronizing Ranger dropships and Navy frigates to shatter RAI’s cloaked relays before they could sow chaos. Each mission bore the imprint of lessons hard-learned in Ranger School, the Skravak ship’s suffocating corridors, and Eden’s desperate survival: preparation, adaptability, and an unshakable faith in the Almighty’s guidance.
The RAI, ever-evolving, met Wade’s resolve with cunning. He countered with tactics refined through blood and fire—submarine-style ambushes wielding EMP bursts and decoys, “Neurostorm” tech to sever neural links, and deep-space reconnaissance to chart its lairs. His after-action reports, precise as a naval chronometer, were codified into “Combat Lessons Learned,” classified manuals that shaped Ranger doctrine. Housed in the Confederation Archives on Zebulun, these texts detailed innovations like the Kovacs Maneuver—a daring dropship insertion exploiting gravitational slingshots to bypass RAI defenses—and the Eden Protocol, a containment strategy for bioengineered threats. Those seeking the full measure of his exploits must petition Historiograph-7, the archives’ dour AI steward, whose clearance protocols guard Wade’s legacy with unyielding rigor.
Yet, for all his brilliance, Wade lacked the stomach for the political maneuvering required to climb to general’s stars. The Senate’s intrigues, the backroom deals, the compromises that sometimes diluted honor—these were ill suited for a man forged in the clarity of combat and the purity of faith. Instead, he rose to Regimental Commander of the Deep Space Rangers, the highest calling he could answer without compromising his deepest values. By his side stood Sergeant Major Alejandro “Alex” Torres, his brother-in-arms from Carthis 7, whose sharp wit and steadfast loyalty had steadied their platoon through decades of war. Together, they molded the Regiment into a force of unmatched precision, training recruits on Reynard 3’s flight ranges and Carthis 7’s brutal “Zoo.” Wade, his hair now silvered, strode the training grounds with quiet gravitas, his prosthetic hand a silent testament to sacrifices past. Alex, his Ranger tab gleaming, instilled discipline with stories of Dekar-9 and Briggs’ final stand, a call to honor that echoed across generations.
Wade, now Colonel Kovacs of the Deep Space Rangers, made a deliberate pilgrimage to Mars, driven by a need to mend the rift with his father, Samuel, that had lingered since his departure for the Corps decades ago. Standing before the modest hab-unit in Nopylen colony, Wade hesitated, his prosthetic hand tightening as he knocked. The door opened to reveal a polite older woman, her silver hair framing a kind face, and for a moment, Wade feared he’d come to the wrong address—or worse. Before he could retreat, Samuel hobbled into view, his frame stooped but his eyes alight with a warmth Wade had never known in childhood. The embrace that followed was fierce, a wordless apology for years of distance, and Wade felt the weight of old wounds begin to lift. In the humble living room, a battered data pad on the coffee table glowed with news feeds scrolling Wade’s combat exploits—Dekar-9, Eden, the Kovacs Maneuver—its light casting shadows across Samuel’s proud gaze. Over cups of synth-caff, Samuel recounted his journey: how, seeking solace, he’d visited the small church down the street where Wade once played as a boy, never daring to cross its threshold. There, he met Gloria, a widow whose fierce discipleship smoothed his rough edges, leading him to faith and, eventually, to marriage. Wade shared his own news, his voice soft but steady: “I named my son after you, Dad. Samuel.” The words sealed their peace. Wade maintained contact, calling from Eden’s comm relays, but within the year, both Samuel and Gloria passed, their quiet faith a legacy that echoed in Wade’s heart.
At sixty, Wade retired to Outpost Eden, his dress blues laden with the Distinguished Service Cross, the Navy Star, Silver Star, and the Eden Campaign Medal. Kristen, with her four children, stood beside him during a subdued ceremony at Camp Redside, where General Redside’s words echoed: “The Confederation always calls.” Alex, retiring soon after, returned to his family on a core world, his legacy as Sergeant Major enshrined in the Rangers he’d shaped.
Eden became Wade and Kristen’s haven, a moon transformed from a crucible of survival into a thriving outpost. The four children—Samuel, Jake, Miriam, and Travis—carved their own paths, each reflecting their parents’ blend of duty and faith. Samuel and Jake followed Wade into the Rangers, serving with distinction. Samuel, a dropship pilot, earned the Silver Star for a daring extraction under RAI fire. Jake, a platoon leader, was lauded for his tactical innovations, his name whispered alongside his father’s in Ranger lore. Miriam and Travis, however, heard a different call. As missionaries, they ventured to distant planets—frontier worlds and war-torn colonies—spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ. Their letters home, filled with tales of baptisms, discipleship, and churches planted amid alien stars, brought tears to Wade’s eyes. “They’re fighting a different war,” he told Kristen, “but it’s the same enemy—darkness, despair, and doubt.”
Wade and Kristen’s spiritual legacy extended beyond their children. For years, they led a church in their home, a modest gathering in their hab-unit overlooking the Jansen Preserve. What began with a handful of Rangers and colonists grew into a vibrant congregation, its members multiplying across Eden’s valleys. Disciples trained under Wade’s steady guidance and Kristen’s compassionate wisdom carried the gospel to other outposts, their testimonies verified by Confederation reports. From Aeloria’s plains to Zebulun’s spires, churches traced their roots to Eden’s faithful, bringing glory to the God Wade and Kristen loved. Wade, ever humble, deflected praise, quoting Matthew 5:16: “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”
Even in retirement, Wade’s vigilance never waned. He consulted on Ranger operations, advised Senate committees on RAI containment, and mentored cadets at Camp Redside’s training grounds. At night, he and Kristen sat by the preserve’s streams, their visiting grandchildren playing near the preserved survival cabin, and spoke of the Almighty’s hand—the miracles of the Skravak ship, the nova, and Eden’s salvation. Wade’s Bible, its pages fragile from decades of study, rested on his bedside table, open to Nehemiah 4:14: “Do not be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your brothers, your sons, your daughters, your wives, and your homes.”
The RAI’s shadow endured, its remnants a persistent menace. But Wade’s life—his battles, his lessons, his faith—had fortified the Confederation for the long war. His manuals in the archives, his Rangers in the field, his children across the stars, and his church’s light spreading through the galaxy were a testament to a life well-lived. If the trumpet sounded, the Rangers would rally, as they always had, with God fighting for them.
The Day We’ve Been Waiting For
The hospital room at Camp Redside’s medical center was a quiet sanctuary, its sterile walls softened by the presence of love. Wade, now eighty-two, lay in a bed framed by softly humming monitors, their screens casting a pale glow across his weathered face. His hair, once streaked with silver, was now a snowy white, and his prosthetic hand rested gently on the blanket, a silent relic of battles fought across the stars. Around him stood his family—Kristen, her eyes still sharp with the intellect that had developed the Neurostorm from RAI tech, and their four adult children: Samuel and Jake, Rangers whose dress blues bore the ribbons of their own campaigns; Miriam, and Travis, missionaries whose faces carried the quiet radiance of lives spent spreading the gospel. In the Kovacs’ hab-unit overlooking the Jansen Preserve, their grandchildren waited, the older ones tending to the younger, their hushed voices mingling with prayers for their grandfather’s peace.
Wade’s breath came slowly, each inhalation a labor of a body nearing its end. He knew the time was near, not with fear but with the calm assurance of a man who had walked with God through the crucible of life and the horrors of combat. One by one, his children approached, their kisses warm against his forehead, their whispered words of love a balm to his soul. Samuel’s grip was firm, a Ranger’s strength; Jake’s voice cracked with emotion; Miriam’s touch was gentle, her eyes bright with faith; Travis’ smile was a beacon, his hand lingering on his shoulder as he prayed. Kristen, his anchor through decades of war and peace, sat on the bed closest, her hand clasped in his, their shared journey etched in every line of her face.
Wade’s gray blue eyes, dimming but resolute, drew Kristen near. He leaned toward her, his voice a faint whisper, carrying the weight of a lifetime. “Always,” he breathed, the word a vow unbroken by time or trial. Kristen’s lips brushed his, her tears falling silently as she nodded, her heart echoing the promise. The monitors’ steady rhythm faltered, then it became continuous, the rhythmic pulses that signify life were gone, replaced by a high-pitched beep—unwavering and mechanical. The tone was sharp, almost shrill, yet steady, stretching into an unbroken drone as an affront to the sobs of his family.
Wade closed his eyes, expecting the darkness that comes with sleep.
Instead, light—blinding, radiant, yet gentle—flooded his consciousness. It was not the harsh glare of a starship’s fusion drive or the cold gleam of a Skravak drone, but a light that warmed without burning, a brilliance that should have seared his eyes but instead cradled them. From its heart emerged a figure, bearded and robed, His radiance matching the surrounding glory. Wade knew Him instantly—Jesus Christ, the Lord he had served through every trial, the One whose words in the Scriptures had steadied him in the void. Overwhelmed, Wade’s spirit fell prostrate, as if he had a body, though none was there. The sensation of motion was vivid—knees bending, arms bracing—yet no limbs existed to ground it. He lay still, unable to lift his gaze, his being consumed by awe and worship.
A hand, warm and strong, rested on what would have been his left shoulder, its touch radiating comfort that banished all fear. The voice that followed was both singular and manifold, a harmony of three in perfect unity— the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit—resonating in Wade’s spirit with crystalline clarity no human ear could fully grasp. “Do not be afraid,” the voice said, each word a melody of grace. “I Am. I am the One you have longed to meet. I am the One you have faithfully served. I am the One who bought you with the price of My blood. I am the One who has forgiven all your sins. Rise and walk with Me.”
Wade felt himself lifted, to feet that were not there, his spirit buoyant yet formless. Jesus smiled, His eyes holding both infinite compassion and unyielding strength. “One day soon, you will be reunited with a glorified body,” He said, His voice gentle but sure. “For now, accustom yourself to this state, My son.” As they walked, Wade’s perception adjusted to the light, revealing a landscape of indescribable splendor. Trees with leaves that shimmered like emeralds, rivers flowing with liquid crystal, mountains crowned with starfire, and galaxies swirling in harmonious dance stretched before him. Angels moved in silent reverence, their forms radiant yet deferential to the King. Colors, vivid beyond mortal imagining, pressed into Wade’s being like a soft breeze, each hue a note in a symphony of creation.
Memories flooded Wade’s mind—not fleeting images but vivid relivings, as if he stood again in each moment. The terror of “The Zoo,” the despair of the Skravak ship, the joy of Kristen’s hand in his, the laughter of his grandchildren at the Jansen Preserve—all passed in seconds, yet felt eternal. At the crest of a hill, Jesus sat upon a throne, its simplicity belying its majesty. Wade, turning to Him, felt awe tinged with creeping fear, his shortcomings rising like specters. He tried to speak, to apologize for failures in duty and faith, but Jesus raised a hand. “It is finished,” He said, His triune voice a chord of finality. “I paid for all of this before you were born.”
Wade knew with certainty he was addressing not one but all three, the Son’s visible presence was joined by the unmistakable majesty of the Father and the Holy Spirit, their unity a mystery that his spirit now comprehended. Joy surged within him, a love so vast it would have burst a mortal heart. “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.” Wade said, his voice trembling with gratitude.
Jesus’ smile was like a dawn breaking. “I know. Well done, My good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Master.”
ToBeLikeJesus 