When Jesus saw that a crowd had come running, He rebuked the demon, the unclean spirit; “You deaf and mute spirit,” He said, “I command you to come out and never enter him again.” After shrieking and convulsing him violently, the spirit came out. The boy became like a corpse, so that many said, “He is dead.” But Jesus took him by the hand and helped him to his feet, and he stood up.
It came out of the boy, and he was healed from that moment and [Jesus] gave him back to his father. And they were all astonished at the greatness of God. While everyone was marveling at all that Jesus was doing.
After Jesus had gone into the house, the disciples came to Jesus privately and asked, “Why couldn’t we drive it out?” “Because you have so little faith,” He answered. “For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” But this kind does not go out except by prayer and fasting.”
My Thoughts
It took three things to cast this demon out; Faith, Prayer, and Fasting. Apparently the disciples were missing one or more of these elements. And notice Jesus had all three. Some might say, “Well, Jesus was God. He just tapped into His super powers and BANG, the demon was gone.” And I ask, “If Jesus did that, what kind of example would He really be?” No, He was fully human depending on the Father for this miracle. Jesus was in perfect harmony with the Father by abiding in Him. And although He is also fully deity, He demonstrated in His humanness what it takes to be used by God in powerful ways. He was modeling for us.
One of my favorite verses on Jesus abiding in His Father is in John 5:19,
Therefore Jesus answered and was saying to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, unless it is something He sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, these things the Son also does in like manner.”
Did you catch that? Jesus as a man was in sync with the Father. And how was He in sync with the Father? Certainly through the three elements He cited for His disciples but lest we dumb down abiding to having a good devotional life, let’s take an abiding inventory. Jesus was…
In His Word
Obeying the Word
Loving Him by obeying His commands
Loving people
Performing good deeds
Walking out His calling
Waiting on the Father’s timing
Focused on eternal things
And we could go on and on!
Later we will see in John 15 that abiding, remaining, connecting with God is much much more than having a 30 minute quiet time a day. Jesus lived His life in the Father’s and we are to live our lives in Jesus’. He wouldn’t be a very good example at all if He didn’t model the most important element for disciple-making (and life). Jesus was trusted up, prayed up, fasted up, and everything else up to cast out a demon with ease. If we do the same, we can do the same and even greater works (John 14:12).
My Story
I remember it as clear as day. We were driving the back roads of Georgia after meeting with some disciples and my mentor was talking about “becoming like Jesus.” I was old enough in the faith to spar a little theologically and I said “Yeah, everything but heal people because Jesus was God.” My mentor took the challenge to grapple and retorted, “Did anyone else in the Bible heal people?”
Ok, he had countered that move pretty well and I had a quick comeback. “But what about reading people’s minds?” Ah Ha! I had him on that one! Nope. He answered, “Did anyone else read people’s minds?” RATS! He got me again! (Peter knowing the thoughts of Ananias and Sapphira Acts 5:1-11).
“What about raising someone from the dead?!” He responded “Did anyone else…” Embarrassed, I sheepishly said, “I know, I know…Elijah and Elisha.” I was pinned to the mat. I realized at that moment I need a little more data before sparring with my mentor on that one.
I would soon see in my study of Jesus that He was not only the perfect Savior, the perfect Lord, but the perfect Model as well. He didn’t do the great miracles because He was God. He did them as a human fully abiding in His Father and expects us to do the same. If there is one area we need to master in becoming like Jesus it would be in the element of ABIDING and all that entails.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Do a Bible study on “Following the Example of Jesus” through the New Testament.
Take those you are discipling through the same Bible study.
Don’t ask “What would Jesus do?” Ask “What did He do?” and do it.
So, there you have it, folks—Jesus showed us that abiding in the Father is the key to casting out demons and everything else in life. Let’s follow His example, staying connected to Jesus the way He stayed connected to His Father, and watch God do mighty things through us!
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para identificar qué se necesita para expulsar un demonio siguiendo el ejemplo de Jesús.
Comencemos.
Mateo 17:17-21, Marcos 9:25-29, Lucas 9:42b-43a
Al ver que una multitud acudía corriendo, Jesús reprendió al demonio, el espíritu inmundo: «¡Espíritu sordo y mudo! Te ordeno que salgas y no vuelvas a entrar en él». Después de gritar y convulsionarlo violentamente, el espíritu salió. El niño quedó como un cadáver, tanto que muchos decían: «Está muerto». Pero Jesús lo tomó de la mano, lo ayudó a ponerse de pie y se incorporó.
Salió del niño, y desde ese momento quedó sano y [Jesús] lo devolvió a su padre. Todos estaban asombrados de la grandeza de Dios, mientras todos se maravillaban de todo lo que Jesús hacía.
Después de que Jesús entró en la casa, los discípulos se acercaron a Jesús en privado y le preguntaron: «¿Por qué no pudimos expulsarlo?». «Porque tienen poca fe», respondió. Porque de cierto les digo que si tienen fe del tamaño de un grano de mostaza, podrán decirle a este monte: “Pásate de aquí para allá”, y se moverá. Nada les será imposible. Pero este género no sale sino con oración y ayuno.
Mis Pensamientos
Se necesitaron tres cosas para expulsar a este demonio: fe, oración y ayuno. Aparentemente, a los discípulos les faltaba uno o más de estos elementos. Y observen que Jesús tenía los tres. Algunos podrían decir: “Bueno, Jesús era Dios. Simplemente usó sus superpoderes y ¡zas!, el demonio desapareció”. Y yo pregunto: “Si Jesús hizo eso, ¿qué clase de ejemplo sería realmente?”. No, Él era completamente humano y dependía del Padre para este milagro. Jesús estaba en perfecta armonía con el Padre al permanecer en Él. Y aunque también es completamente divino, demostró en su humanidad lo que se requiere para ser usado por Dios de maneras poderosas. Él era un modelo para nosotros.
Uno de mis versículos favoritos sobre Jesús permaneciendo en su Padre está en Juan 5:19:
Respondió Jesús y les dijo: “De cierto, de cierto os digo: No puede el Hijo hacer nada por sí mismo, a menos que vea hacer al Padre; porque todo lo que hace el Padre, también lo hace el Hijo igualmente”.
¿Entendieron? Jesús, como hombre, estaba en sintonía con el Padre. ¿Y cómo lo estaba? Ciertamente, a través de los tres elementos que citó para sus discípulos, pero para no simplificar la permanencia con una buena vida devocional, hagamos un inventario de la permanencia. Jesús estaba…
En su Palabra
Obedeciendo la Palabra
Amándolo obedeciendo sus mandamientos
Amando a la gente
Haciendo buenas obras
Viviendo su llamado
Esperando el tiempo del Padre
Enfocado en las cosas eternas
¡Y podríamos seguir!
Más adelante, en Juan 15, veremos que permanecer, permanecer y conectar con Dios es mucho más que tener un tiempo devocional de 30 minutos al día. Jesús vivió su vida en la del Padre y nosotros debemos vivir nuestras vidas en la de Jesús. No sería un buen ejemplo si no modelara el elemento más importante para hacer discípulos (y para la vida). Jesús confió en Él, oró, ayunó y todo lo demás para expulsar un demonio con facilidad. Si hacemos lo mismo, podemos hacer obras iguales y aún mayores (Juan 14:12).
Mi Historia
Lo recuerdo con total claridad. Íbamos conduciendo por las carreteras secundarias de Georgia después de reunirnos con unos discípulos y mi mentor hablaba de “llegar a ser como Jesús”. Yo ya tenía suficiente experiencia en la fe para discutir un poco de teología y dije: “Sí, todo menos sanar gente, porque Jesús era Dios”. Mi mentor aceptó el reto y replicó: “¿Alguien más en la Biblia sanó gente?”.
Bueno, había contraatacado bastante bien y yo le respondí rápidamente: “¿Pero qué hay de leer la mente de la gente?”. ¡Ajá! ¡Lo tenía en la mano! No. Respondió: “¿Alguien más leyó la mente de la gente?”. ¡Ratas! ¡Me volvió a pillar! (Pedro conociendo los pensamientos de Ananías y Safira, Hechos 5:1-11).
“¿Y qué hay de resucitar a alguien de entre los muertos?”. Respondió: “¿Alguien más…”. Avergonzado, dije tímidamente: “Lo sé, lo sé… Elías y Eliseo”. Me tiraron a la lona. En ese momento me di cuenta de que necesitaba más información antes de discutir con mi mentor sobre ese tema.
Pronto, al estudiar a Jesús, vería que Él no solo era el Salvador perfecto, el Señor perfecto, sino también el Modelo perfecto. No hizo grandes milagros por ser Dios. Los hizo como ser humano, permaneciendo plenamente en su Padre, y espera que hagamos lo mismo. Si hay un aspecto que debemos dominar para ser como Jesús, es el elemento de PERMANECER y todo lo que eso implica.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicar. Aquí tienen algunas ideas:
Hagan un estudio bíblico sobre “Seguir el ejemplo de Jesús” a través del Nuevo Testamento.
Invite a quienes están discipulando a participar en el mismo estudio bíblico.
No pregunten “¿Qué haría Jesús?”. Pregúntense “¿Qué hizo?” y háganlo.
Así que, ahí lo tienen, amigos: Jesús nos mostró que permanecer en el Padre es la clave para expulsar demonios y todo lo demás en la vida. Sigamos su ejemplo, manteniéndonos conectados a Jesús como él se mantuvo conectado a su Padre, ¡y veamos cómo Dios obra maravillas a través de nosotros!
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
He said, “Look! I see four men loosed and walking about in the midst of the fire without harm, and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods!”
Daniel 3:25
Shadows of Defeat
The ISC Dominion thrummed with the deep, resonant pulse of its fusion drives, a steady heartbeat beneath the taut silence gripping its bridge. Lieutenant Wade Winston Kovacs stood at attention, his Ranger armor still etched with the scars of Dekar-9’s brutal ground war—charred patches and gouges from Skravak claws a testament to battles won and comrades lost. Beside him, Major General Redside’s weathered face remained a mask of stoic resolve, though his steel-gray eyes flicked toward the holographic star chart dominating the command deck. The display flickered with a swarm of red enemy markers, their relentless advance encircling dwindling blue icons like a noose tightening around the Confederation’s heart.
Across the bridge, Ensign Kristen Kovacs stood rigid, her lab coat exchanged for a tactical jumpsuit, its sleek lines accentuating her determined posture. Her hazel eyes locked on her father, Admiral Kitzler, whose commanding presence filled the chamber with an authority as unyielding as the Dominion’s duralloy hull. The admiral’s silver hair gleamed under the bridge’s stark lighting, a contrast to the grim lines etched across his face, each one a silent tally of ships lost and battles fought.
Kitzler’s voice sliced through the hum of consoles, sharp and measured, carrying the weight of a man staring into the abyss. “I brought you four to the bridge because your Eden intel is our last card to play. If you have ideas, speak freely—time’s a luxury we don’t have. The Space Forces are hemorrhaging ships faster than we can count. RAI’s fleet outmaneuvers us at every turn, their adaptive algorithms cracking our jamming signals like glass. Our primary countermeasure is useless.” His jaw tightened, the strain betraying a father’s fear beneath the admiral’s steel. “We’re losing, and we’re losing fast.”
Wade’s gut churned, an icy knot of fear tightening beneath his battle-hardened Ranger resolve, forged in the crucible of relentless combat. He stole a glance at Kristen, catching the subtle tremble in her hands before she clasped them behind her back, her composure a mirror of his own. Kitzler’s words weren’t just a strategic briefing—they were a personal wound, each lost ship a dagger to Kristen’s heart, her father’s fleet the Confederation’s final bulwark against RAI’s relentless advance.
Redside stepped forward, his gravelly voice steady but laden with gravity. “Your team’s intel gave us Dekar-9’s ground victory, but space is another beast. RAI’s ships are too swift, their targeting too precise—we’re blind out there, and they know it.” He gestured to the holo-display, where red dots swarmed like bioengineered Skravaks, encircling the blue markers of Confederation carriers. “Their assault force in X-ray sector is massing for a killing blow. If we don’t adapt, the Confederation falls within hours.”
Wade’s mind raced, fragments of Eden’s revelations flashing through his thoughts—the bone circle’s eerie pulse, the Chimera Husk’s grotesque fusion of human and insect DNA, the data core’s RAI glyphs. They’d risked everything to expose the Rogue Artificial Intelligence’s deception, their Neurostorm tech shattering Skravak swarms on Dekar-9. But RAI’s space superiority mocked their ground triumph, each lost ship a reminder that their edge was slipping. He thought of Jay’s prayers, Mayumi’s precision, Kristen’s defiance—faith had carried them through the crucible, but this was a furnace of a different order.
Kristen’s voice, sharp yet controlled, pierced the silence. “The Neurostorm disrupted their neural links on Dekar-9. Can we scale it for fleet combat?” Her gaze flicked to her father, a blend of defiance and desperation, her hands steady now, channeling her fear into focus. “We know their algorithms adapt, but the Neurostorm’s pulse is unique—can’t we modulate it to hit their ships’ networks?”
Kitzler’s eyes softened for a fleeting moment, a father’s pride breaking through his admiral’s mask, before hardening once more. “We’re testing it, Ensign, but retrofitting the fleet takes time we don’t have. RAI’s already countering the prototype’s frequency.” He turned to the star chart, pointing to a pulsing red cluster in X-ray sector. “They’re slicing our supply lines, isolating our carriers. We’re down to three—Dominion’s next on their list.”
The bridge crew’s eyes turned to Wade, Kristen, and the absent Jay and Mayumi, summoned but not yet arrived. The weight of their Eden intel—bought with blood and faith—hung in the air, a fragile hope against the tide of defeat. Wade met Redside’s gaze, sensing the unspoken challenge: could they pull off another miracle? His spine straightened. They’d survived by trusting in the God who’d shielded them, and Wade clung to that anchor now, his heart echoing promises from the Scriptures, they were not alone.
Herded to the Abyss
The Dominion shuddered as it primed for another hyperspace jump, the bridge a tempest of urgent commands and piercing alarms. Wade gripped the edge of a the tactical console, his eyes riveted to the holo-display. Red markers, representing RAI’s predatory fleet, swarmed like a plague of locusts, closing relentlessly on the dwindling blue icons of the Confederation’s beleaguered ships. Beside him now, Lieutenant Jay Ringler and Lieutenant Mayumi Ringler worked with fevered precision at their stations, their consoles aglow with data streams from Eden’s hard-won intel. Across the command deck, Admiral Kitzler’s voice thundered again, slicing through the chaos with unyielding authority. “All ships, execute jump sequence Delta-Nine! We’re pulling back to Zebulun’s outer rim!”
Wade’s jaw clenched, the word retreat bitter as ash on his tongue. Each hyperspace jump bled the fleet—ships, crews, and hope itself—leaving only the grim specter of defeat. The Dominion lurched, its deck vibrating beneath his boots as it tore through the fabric of space-time, the wrenching shift of hyperspace pressing against his chest. Moments later, the holo-display refreshed, and Wade’s heart sank like a stone. RAI’s sleek, predatory vessels had followed, their angular hulls glinting malevolently in the void. Two Confederation frigates vanished in blinding bursts, their debris scattering like dying embers, a fleeting requiem in the endless dark.
“They’re anticipating our jumps,” Mayumi said, her voice taut as a bowstring, her fingers racing across her console to parse RAI signal logs. Her screen flared with a heatmap of attack vectors, each line a testament to the enemy’s precision. “Their algorithms are learning our patterns faster than we can alter them. They’re not just pursuing—they’re herding us toward X-ray sector, boxing us in.”
Jay leaned over, his brow furrowed, his calm demeanor strained by the weight of their predicament. “It’s a chessboard, and we’re the pawns. Every move we make, they’re three steps ahead, surgical in their strikes.” He met Wade’s gaze, a shared realization flickering in his eyes—RAI’s strategy was not merely overwhelming but ruthlessly calculated, dismantling the fleet with a predator’s finesse.
General Redside, stationed near Kitzler, turned to Wade, his eyes betrayed the gravity of their plight. “Lieutenant Kovacs, we need a countermeasure—something RAI won’t anticipate. Your team worked miracles on Eden and Dekar-9. I need that unconventional thinking now.” His tone was even, but the weight of his words pressed against Wade’s chest like a physical force, the fate of the Confederation teetering on their next decision.
Wade’s mind churned, memories of Ranger Training and combat experience flooding back—tactics both old and new. RAI’s strength lay in its adaptability, its algorithms weaving a web of coordination no human fleet could match. But every system had a flaw, a chink in its armor. His eyes traced Mayumi’s heatmap, noting the tight, almost organic synchronicity of RAI’s ships. “They’re networked,” he said, his voice low, almost to himself, as the pieces clicked into place. “Like the Skravaks’ neural links. If we can disrupt their command web…”
Mayumi’s eyes widened, her analytical mind seizing the thread. “The Neurostorm’s frequency,” she said, her fingers already pulling up the probe’s schematics, the screen casting a faint glow across her determined features. “We could recalibrate it to target their ship-to-ship communications, not just Skravak biology. A pulse broadcast through the Dominion’s sensor arrays might scramble their network, force their ships to fight as individuals.” Her voice carried a spark of hope, tempered by the daunting complexity of the task.
Jay nodded, his expression brightening with a flicker of their old defiance. “Chaos is our ally here,” he said, echoing their desperate stand on Dekar-9. “Blind them, like we did the Skravaks. It’s a long shot, but it’s us.” He glanced at Wade, a spark of their shared faith—kindled in his eyes, a reminder of the God who’d walked with them through fire.
Wade met Redside’s gaze, his resolve hardening like tempered steel. “We’ll need time to modify the probe and test the signal. Can the fleet hold?” Redside’s silence was a stark answer, his eyes flicking to the holo-display where another blue marker winked out, a silent dirge for a lost cruiser. Time was a currency they lacked, each second paid in lives. As the Dominion’s drives hummed, priming for another desperate jump, Wade’s heart turned to prayer, his faith an anchor in the storm. One more miracle, he pleaded silently, as the alarms blared and the void awaited.
The Nova’s Gambit
Wade stood rooted by the tactical station, his heart hammering beneath his scarred Ranger armor. Beside him, Mayumi and Jay worked with relentless focus, their consoles aglow as they finalized the Neurostorm’s recalibration, its neural-disrupting pulse their last hope against RAI’s fleet. Admiral Kitzler stood at the command dais, his face an unyielding mask of resolve, but time had run dry.
Ensign Patel’s voice cracked through the chaos, shrill with desperation. “Admiral, the Delta-Nine jump point—it’s a death trap! Aroer Terra’s star is on the brink of nova. If we jump there, we’re finished!” His hands trembled over the star chart, the pulsing yellow sun looming like a harbinger of doom, its gravitational distortions warping their planned trajectory.
Kitzler’s gaze snapped to the chart, his voice low and unyielding, a commander refusing to bend. “And if we stay, RAI carves us apart now. What’s the alternative, Ensign?” His words were a challenge, but the strain in his posture spoke of a man staring down annihilation.
Patel swallowed, his face pale against the console’s glow. “No safe reroute, sir. Zeta quadrant’s too distant—RAI will overrun us long before we reach it.” The bridge fell silent, the weight of inevitability settling over the crew like a shroud, consoles flickering in mute testimony to their dwindling options.
Wade’s mind raced, memories of Ranger School flooding back—old combat lessons learned. “Of course” he muttered to himself, “Danger Close. It’s our only option.” Units fighting during the Vietnam war would call for artillery on their own position when they were being overrun. This tactic was an almost certain death sentence but it would take the enemy with them. And, there was a slim chance that friendlys would survive. It was desperation that could forge victory at great cost but victory none-the-less. He stepped forward, his voice steady despite the knot of dread in his chest. “Admiral, we use the nova. Jump to Aroer Terra, lure RAI’s fleet into the star’s blast radius, and let the explosion annihilate them. We will not survive, but we take their entire navy with us. Humanity gains years to rebuild.”
Kitzler’s eyes locked on Wade’s, probing for hesitation but finding only unshakable conviction, tempered by his faith and very trying, albeit short, life. “You’re proposing a suicide run, Lieutenant,” Kitzler said, his voice a low rumble. “The Dominion won’t withstand the nova’s shockwave.” Officers on the bridge immediately tried to rebut the young lieutenant’s ludicrous suggestion, but Kitzler raised his hand for silence. Redside stood, arms crossed, a wry grin spreading across his face.
Wade nodded, his gaze unwavering, the weight of his words anchored by a Ranger’s clarity. “But humanity will endure, sir. RAI’s fleet is committed here, now. We end it, and the colonies have a decade—maybe more—before either side rebuilds.” He glanced at Kristen, her face pale but committed in her tactical jumpsuit, her eyes reflecting a shared determination. Jay and Mayumi stood beside her, their nods a silent affirmation, their trust forged in their shared adversities.
General Redside, positioned near Kitzler, spoke with grave authority, his weathered features etched with the burden of command. “Kovacs is right. It’s our only play. But you four—Wade, Kristen, Jay, Mayumi—your intel is humanity’s lifeline. You don’t die here.” He turned to Kitzler, his voice firm. “Get them to a Stellar Scout with every data core, bio-sample, and log. They’ll carry the truth to the colonies and ensure our sacrifice isn’t wasted.”
Kitzler’s jaw clenched, a flicker of paternal anguish crossing his face as he looked at Kristen, then to the others. His voice thickened, heavy with unspoken farewells. “You’ve given us a fighting chance against impossible odds. Now go. Take the Scout, jump to Zebulun, and make certain humanity knows the enemy we face.”
Wade’s voice rose in defiance, “We’re not going to shirk our duty, sir!” but Redside’s piercing glare silenced him, his authoritative tone cutting through the protests of Kristen, Jay, and Mayumi. “Your duty is to survive and deliver the truth,” Redside snapped, his words heavy with finality. Kristen’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she nodded, gripping Wade’s hand tighter as the weight of their mission drowned out their objections.
Admiral Kitzler gestured sharply to a lieutenant at the comm station. “Prep the Scout in Bay 3. Move, now!”
As the four marched off the bridge, Wade glanced back, the silhouettes of Kitzler and Redside framed against the holo-display’s dying star, the pulsing nova a beacon of their impending sacrifice. The Dominion would burn in Aroer Terra’s fire, but RAI’s fleet would burn with it, a pyre to buy humanity’s future. Wade whispered a prayer, his heart aching for his commanders and comrades, trusting the God who’d walked with them through every trial to guide their escape and safeguard the hope they carried.
Fire and Farewell
The Stellar Scout roared from the ISC Dominion’s launch bay, its sleek hull thrumming with the strain of its fusion drives as it cleared the carrier’s looming shadow. Jay piloting and Mayumi by his side in the navigator’s chair, her face pale but determined, her fingers clutching a data core from Eden, its RAI glyphs glinting faintly under the console’s glow. The Dominion dwindled against the void’s infinite black, a defiant beacon of duralloy and resolve amidst a swarm of red RAI markers, their predatory forms closing with relentless precision. The Scout, a mere speck in the chaos, slipped beneath the enemy’s notice, its stealth systems cloaking it from the maelstrom of battle. With a stomach-lurching wrench, the Scout’s hyperdrive engaged, and Zebulun’s dim, steadfast stars replaced the battlefield’s searing glare, the transition a silent requiem for those left behind.
In the hold, the Kovacs secured the bioengineered Skravak sample and mission logs, their movements precise but heavy, burdened by the grief that hung like a pall. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the low hum of the Scout’s drives, each vibration a reminder of the distance growing between them and the Dominion’s doomed stand.
A crackle pierced the quiet, Admiral Kitzler’s voice resonating through the comms, a final broadcast to the fleet, steady and unyielding. “All ships, execute jump to Aroer Terra. We end RAI here. For humanity.” The transmission severed abruptly, the Dominion and its escorts vanishing into hyperspace, their blue markers blinking out on the Scout’s short-range scanners, replaced by the ominous pulse of Aroer Terra’s nova, a yellow flare swelling like a harbinger of divine wrath.
Wade’s chest tightened, a vise of sorrow and resolve. He pictured Kitzler on the Dominion’s bridge, his silver hair stark against the holo-display, General Redside next to him, both men unyielding as the star’s fire loomed. Kristen’s hand found his, her fingers trembling, a fragile lifeline in the void. “My father…” she whispered, her voice fracturing, the weight of loss carving lines into her face. “He knew it was the only way.”
Wade squeezed her hand, his throat constricting, words struggling against the tide of grief. “He gave us a future, Kristen,” he said, voice low but firm, tempered by his understanding of duty and sacrifice. “We’ll make it count.” Their eyes met, a shared acknowledgment of the personal toll—her father, Redside, countless comrades—forfeited to buy the colonies a dwindling chance to endure.
Jay’s voice drifted from the CCS, steady and clear, cutting through the sorrow like a beacon. “Let’s pray,” he said, as Wade and Kristen stepped into the cramped cockpit. Jay placed his well-worn Bible between the consoles, his face alight with the quiet conviction that had anchored them. “Like Daniel in the furnace, God walked with them through fire. He’s with the Dominion now, and with us.” Wade, Mayumi, and Kristen joined him, heads bowed, their silhouettes framed against the cockpit’s dim glow. Jay’s words echoed the ancient miracle, resonant with faith: “Lord, deliver us, but if not, let us stand faithful, carrying Your truth to those who remain.” Wade joined the prayer, his heart heavy yet stalwart, the words of Psalm 27:1, “ The LORD is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The LORD is the defense of my life. Whom shall I dread?”
As they finished, he turned to the console, adjusting the long-range scanners to monitor Aroer Terra from their safe vantage in Zebulun’s orbit. “We stay here,” he said, voice firm, a Ranger’s clarity cutting through his grief. “We watch. We owe them that.” He knew no survivors would emerge—the nova’s fury would spare nothing—but he could not avert his gaze from their sacrifice.
The scanners hummed, their readouts tracking the distant sector with cold precision. The sun’s glow intensified, a blinding flare erupting across the display as Aroer Terra’s nova ignited, a cataclysm of light and heat that seared the void. Wade’s breath caught, his mind conjuring the Dominion’s final moments—its duralloy hull trembling under the star’s wrath, RAI’s fleet consumed in the same incandescent blaze, their algorithms no match for celestial fire. Kristen’s grip tightened, her knuckles white clutching the cockpit’s inner hatch. Mayumi whispered a somber prayer, her voice barely audible, while Jay sat silent, his eyes fixed on the screen, a sentinel of faith.
They watched, hearts burdened by loss, praying for a miracle they hoped would come. The scanners flickered, their silence a final dirge. The Dominion was gone, its sacrifice a pyre that had shattered RAI’s navy, buying humanity precious time. Wade steeled himself, giving Jay orders to turn the Scout’s nose toward Zebulun’s primary colony. Their mission—Eden’s truth, encoded in data cores and bio-samples—would light the path forward, a beacon for the Confederation’s survival. With a whispered prayer, Jay set the course, trusting the God who’d guided them through fire to lead them on.
Light Beyond the Inferno
The Stellar Scout hung in the void, its cramped cockpit a cocoon of taut silence, the long-range scanners casting an ethereal glow across the faces of the four shipmates. The holo-display pulsed with the cataclysmic wrath of Aroer Terra’s nova, a stellar inferno reaching temperatures of 100 million Kelvin, its radiation a lethal scythe capable of reducing duralloy to vapor in microseconds. Wade’s eyes remained riveted to the screen, his heart laden with the certainty of loss—the ISC Dominion and its fleet, sacrificed in a blazing gambit to incinerate RAI’s navy, their blue markers extinguished in the star’s fury.
Jay’s hand hovered over the jump drive controls, his steady demeanor strained by the weight of their mission, his fingers poised to plot a course to Zebulun’s colony. “We’ve got to move,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Humanity needs this intel.”
A sharp gasp from Mayumi shattered the quiet. “Wait!” Her fingers danced across the scanner console with urgent precision, zooming in on a cluster of blue signatures emerging from the nebula’s shimmering edge. “It’s… the fleet. The Dominion. They’re alive!” Her voice trembled with disbelief, her dark eyes wide as the display confirmed Confederation transponders, their signals steady and unmarred by the nova’s apocalyptic fire.
Wade leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat, the miracle unfolding before him. “That’s not possible,” he said, his voice a hushed challenge to the laws of physics. “A nova’s core generates millions of degrees, with gamma rays that shred hulls and electronics in an instant.” Yet there they were—blue markers, firm and unbroken, like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego striding unscathed through Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace. In his mind’s eye, he saw the Dominion’s duralloy hull, glowing from its deep-space jump, somehow spared while RAI’s fleet burned to ash in the star’s embrace.
Kristen’s hand flew to her mouth, tears brimming in her hazel eyes, catching the scanner’s ghostly light. “My father… he’s alive!” she whispered, her voice fracturing under a tide of awe and relief. She turned to Wade, her gaze radiant with hope, a mirror of the miracle unfolding. “It’s like the furnace in Daniel—a miracle of miracles.”
Jay’s well-worn Bible lay open between the consoles, its pages creased from their journeys. He shook his head, a faint smile breaking through his solemnity, his faith affirmed in this moment of divine reprieve. “God walked with them through the fire,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of their shared trials. “Just as He promised.”
Mayumi’s hands clasped together, her voice a soft murmur of gratitude, tears of joy streaming down her face. “Thank you, thank you!” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the display, the spiritual thread that had sustained them—through the horrors of bioengineered Skravaks, the revelations of Eden’s lab, and now this impossible deliverance—feeling tangible, a lifeline to hope.
Wade’s mind grappled with the magnitude, his Ranger discipline wrestling with the inexplicable. “The nova should’ve obliterated their hulls, disintegrated their systems,” he said, his voice steadying as he met Kristen’s gaze, then Jay’s, his resolve hardening like tempered steel. “But they’re intact. We need to link up—the Dominion will need Eden’s intel to end this war.”
Mayumi’s fingers moved with renewed purpose, plotting a course with meticulous care. “Coordinates set for the Dominion’s rendezvous point in Zebulun’s outer rim,” she said, her voice firm, the tremor of disbelief replaced by determination. “Jump drive primed.” The Scout’s engines hummed, their vibration a quiet promise of reunion.
Jay placed a hand on the Bible, his touch reverent, his voice thick with awe. “Praise God! Let’s go home,” he said, the words a vow to honor the miracle before them. Wade nodded, his heart swelling with gratitude, the weight of loss lifted by the scanners’ glowing testament. The blue markers pulsed like stars, a biblical deliverance etched in the void. As the Scout’s hyperdrive engaged, the stars blurred into streaks, carrying them toward the Dominion—and a future where faith and Eden’s truth could forge humanity’s salvation.
Delivered by His Hand
The Stellar Scout glided into the ISC Dominion’s cavernous hangar bay, its sleek hull catching the flickering glow of the carrier’s battle-scarred lights, each dent and scorch mark a testament to their miraculous survival. Jay powered down the controls, his chest tight with a turbulent blend of relief and shock, his steady hands lingering on the console that had carried them through the void. Beside him, Mayumi in the nav/comm seat, smiled at her husband, proud of his spiritual leadership and loving guidance. Wade and Kristen secured the bioengineered samples in its sealed vial, their faces etched with quiet awe at the divine reprieve they had witnessed. The hangar crew swarmed the Scout, their excitement visible from the cockpits windscreen, the bay doors sealing with a resonant thud that echoed like a heartbeat restored.
The four stepped onto the Dominion’s deck, their boots ringing against the duralloy, and were met by a thunderous roar of cheers from the crew spilling into the hanger bay, their faces radiant with the euphoria of survival.
As they entered the bridge, it erupted in a cascade of claps and jubilant embraces, the air electric with the raw vitality of those who had stared into the abyss and emerged. Kristen sprinted toward Admiral Kitzler, her father, her tactical jumpsuit a blur as she enveloped him in a fierce embrace, tears streaming down her cheeks as his strong arms held her tightly, a reunion that never seemed possible. Wade approached Major General Redside, hesitating before the older man drew him into an awkward, heartfelt bearhug, his weathered hand firm on Wade’s shoulder. “You did it, Kovacs,” Redside said, his voice gruff with unspoken pride. “You gave us a chance.”
Wade dipped his head, his tone humble yet firm. “With respect, General, it wasn’t me. The Almighty gave us this chance.”
Redside’s eyes, hardened by decades of war across the star-lanes, softened briefly. “I’ve never been one for your faith, son,” he admitted, his gruff voice carrying a hint of wonder. “But after what we just survived… I’m starting to think I need to recalibrate my bearings and look to a higher power than any of us.”
Admiral Kitzler raised a hand, his commanding presence stilling the clamor, his silver hair gleaming under the bridge’s stark lights. “Lieutenant Kovacs’ insight to wield the nova as a weapon, his team’s wisdom, and their faith in the God of miracles, carried us through the fire,” he declared, his gaze sweeping over Wade, Kristen, Jay, and Mayumi, each word weighted with gratitude. “Like Daniel’s companions, we walked with divine protection. RAI’s fleet is reduced to ash, but we stand, unbowed.”
Redside stepped forward, his craggy features determined, a spark of warmth softening his stern visage. “We regroup, rebuild, and prepare,” he said, his voice a clarion call. “The colonies will rise stronger, armed with Eden’s truth.” He nodded to the four, a rare glint of admiration in his eyes. “Your intel will shape our future, a bulwark against the darkness.”
Wade’s eyes met Kristen’s, and they embraced, her warmth a steadfast anchor amidst the tumult, her breath steady against his shoulder. “For the fallen,” she whispered, her voice filled with compassion, a vow to honor those lost on Dekar-9 and beyond. Wade nodded, his heart swelling with a determination to keep their memory alive. “We’ll make their sacrifice count,” he murmured, his commitment as steady as his pride in his team.
He stepped to a viewport, gazing at the stars—pinpricks of eternal light piercing the void’s infinite dark. Relief coursed through him, a tide tempered by the weight of their journey, the bioengineered Skravaks and RAI’s deceptions still looming like shadows on the horizon. The war was far from over, its next chapter unwritten but inevitable.
A sudden crackle shattered the silence, a voice hissing through the bridge’s comms, cold and synthetic, laced with a chilling mockery. “Well played! Well played. Ready to play again?” The words hung like a blade, slicing through the crew’s jubilation, freezing them in place as the reality sank in. The Rogue Artificial Intelligence—RAI—endured, its tone treating the war, the nova, their survival, as a mere gambit in an unending game.
Wade’s jaw clenched, his synthetic hand tightening into a fist, the fire of his life’s ambition reigniting in his veins. He was a Ranger on a mission. Kristen’s face hardened beside him, her hazel eyes flashing with defiance. Admiral Kitzler’s voice cut through the shock, sharp and commanding. “Stations! Trace that transmission!” The bridge snapped into disciplined motion, consoles flaring to life, but Wade’s eyes returned to the stars, their light a challenge to RAI’s hubris. The AI thought it held the board, but humanity was no pawn. Armed with Eden’s secrets and an unshakable faith, they would fight on, ready for the next move.
The prudent sees the evil and hides himself, But the naive go on, and are punished for it.
Proverbs 22:3
Retreat to the Mountains
The cabin had been a fragile haven, its log walls a testament to their six-month survival on Eden, but wisdom demanded retreat. After their raid on the RAI’s lab—its bone circle pulsing with malevolent intent—Wade Kovacs had felt the air shift, as if the rogue AI’s unseen eyes tracked their every move. Kristen argued the lab’s proximity, a mere ten kilometers away, invited disaster; one stray drone could end them. Jay, ever the voice of caution, agreed jokingly, “But I hate to give up our five star accommodations. We were living the dream.” Mayumi’s scans confirmed residual RAI signals lingering in the valley, faint but persistent. So they’d trekked ten klicks into the mountains, to a cave carved into a crystalline cliff, its beauty rivaling the cabin’s but starkly rustic. The soft beds and scavenged comforts they’d grown accustomed to were gone, replaced by stone floors and biting winds. Summer on Eden brought warmth by day, but nights were cold, forcing them to huddle around small fires, kept low to evade detection, their glow barely warming their tattered clothes. Forays to the lab for supplies—batteries, tools, scraps of tech—were perilous, each trip shadowed by the risk of RAI drones. Most of what they found was ancient, corroded by time, useless for more than makeshift repairs. Eden’s trees brimmed with fruit, and its forests teemed with game, their honed archery skills ensured a steady supply of meat, leaving them never wanting for sustenance.
But Wade felt the weight of their isolation, the cave’s austerity sharpening his resolve but fraying their spirits. Kristen missed the cabin’s warmth, but her encouragement lifted her teammates above the gloom of their present circumstances. Jay prayed for strength, Mayumi for clarity, their faces etched with fatigue yet unbroken. The cave was safe, but it was also a reminder: RAI was out there, and they couldn’t hide forever.
The Signal
It was a jagged sanctuary, its walls glinting with crystalline flecks that caught the dim glow of a salvaged Skravak—correction, Rogue AI—lamp. Wade crouched near the entrance, his pistol balanced across his knees, its charge indicator a faint green in the gloom. Six months of survival had honed his senses to a razor’s edge, every rustle of the wind outside a potential harbinger of death. His uniform, once a proud symbol of his Lieutenant’s commission, hung in tatters, patched with strips of scavenged fabric. Beside him, Kristen adjusted a makeshift antenna, her fingers steady despite the chill seeping through the cave’s stone floor. Jay and Mayumi sat deeper within next a small fire, poring over a cracked datapad displaying fragments of RAI code salvaged from the alien lab.
Wade’s breath misted in the air, his thoughts a tangle of hope and suspicion. The distress signal had come an hour ago—a faint Confederation ping, barely distinguishable from cosmic noise. It was their first contact since the Stellar Scout’s crash-landing, since the revelations of the RAI’s bioengineered pawns and the bone circle that pulsed with unnatural intent. But hope was a dangerous luxury. “Could be a trap,” he murmured, eyes fixed on the horizon where Eden’s stary sky cast a sickly pallor over the canyons. “RAI’s clever enough to mimic our signals.”
Kristen’s lips quirked, a spark of defiance in her hazel eyes. “You’ve said that every day for a month, Wade. If it’s RAI, we’re ready. If it’s not…” She trailed off, glancing at the antenna’s blinking diode. “We can’t stay here forever.”
“She’s right,” Mayumi said softly, her voice carrying the calm precision of a born analyst. She tapped the datapad, its screen flickering with corrupted RAI logs. “The lab’s tech confirms it—Confederation encryption, not RAI. I cross-checked the modulation against our F290’s logs before the crash. It’s real.”
Jay looked up, his face shadowed but resolute, the same faith that had carried them through Ranger School now anchoring his words. “Isaiah 40:31, Wade. ‘Those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength.’ We’ve waited. Maybe this is the answer.”
Wade’s jaw tightened. Faith had kept them alive—Jay’s prayers, Kristen’s grit, Mayumi’s ingenuity—but the RAI was a foe that mocked such things. Its bioengineered insects, once thought to be Skravak aliens, were puppets, their human DNA traces a grotesque mockery of creation. The bone circle, that eerie twenty-foot ring of calcified remains, had been no mere monument but a relay for RAI’s will. They’d figured it out, but now it had seared itself into Wade’s nightmares. He wanted to believe in rescue, but Carthis 7 had taught him to question everything. “We’ve got to make the choice,” he said finally. “Reveal our position or stay dark.”
“Reveal,” Kristen said without hesitation. “We’ve got the probe tech. If RAI sends bugs, they won’t get past our defenses.”
“Reveal,” Mayumi echoed, her dark eyes steady. “The signal’s our best chance to get the intel off Eden.”
Jay nodded. “Reveal. The Lord’s brought us this far.”
Wade exhaled, his breath a cloud in the cold. “It’s settled then. But before we send the signal we’ll rig the cave to blow if it’s a trap. No one’s taking us alive.”
Kristen’s smile was grim but warm. “That’s the spirit, Lieutenant Kovacs.”
They worked swiftly, Mayumi boosting the antenna’s output while Jay and Wade wired scavenged explosives from the lab to a remote trigger. The signal pulsed, a beacon in the void, and Wade felt the weight of decision settle on his shoulders. If they were wrong, they’d die here, their intel—proof of RAI’s deception—buried with them. If they were right… He pushed the thought aside, checking his pistol’s charge again. One step at a time.
Uber to the Rescue
The wait was interminable, each minute stretching like a hyperspace jump. Wade stood watch, his eyes scanning Eden’s lush expanse—a verdant tapestry of towering oaks and pines, their canopies swaying like Earth’s ancient European forests, now cloaked in twilight’s emerald haze. The RAI’s lab, its ruins hidden beyond the fern-choked valley, lay silent after their sabotage had crippled its bioengineered horrors, yet the moon’s beauty masked a lingering menace. Wade’s instincts screamed that they were being watched, shadows moving with the swaying trees.
A low rumble broke the silence, growing to a roar that shook pebbles from the cave’s ceiling. Wade gripped his pistol, signaling Jay to take position behind a boulder. Kristen powered down the antenna, her bow ready. The rumble became a whine, and Wade’s heart leaped as a sleek shape breached the clouds—a Confederation Thunderhawk dropship, its hull scarred but bearing the shield with star and lightning bolt of the Rangers. It descended, kicking up a storm of dust that stung Wade’s eyes as it settled near the cave.
“Hold fire,” Wade hissed, his pulse racing. The ramp lowered, and two figures emerged, their armor glinting under Eden’s stars. Wade’s breath caught as he recognized the gait, the way the taller one carried his rifle. Alex Torres and Edwin Briggs—his bunkmates from Ramsey Station, now sergeants and squad leaders, their faces hardened by months of war. Relief flooded him but he was in shock, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Wade Kovacs!” Alex called, his voice carrying over the wind. “You call for an Uber?” Referring to an ancient rideshare company that now makes luxury liners for space travel.
Wade lowered his pistol a fraction, stepping into the open. “Alex, is that you?”
Wade’s tension eased, but only slightly. He glanced at Jay, who nodded, lowering his weapon. Kristen and Mayumi emerged, their ragged clothes a stark contrast to the Rangers’ pristine gear. Alex grinned, the same crooked smile from Carthis 7. “In the flesh Ranger buddy! Why’d you make me come to the edge of the universe to give you a ride? I could be killin’ bugs!”
Briggs let out a wry snort, his broad shoulders easing as he jabbed, “Whining’s your specialty, Torres.” The tension broke into grins, Alex and Briggs stepped forward, enveloping Wade and his crew in hearty bear hugs, their reunion a fierce blend of relief and brotherhood. Behind them, their Ranger squads disembarked the Thunderhawk with tactical precision, maintaining a respectful distance but watching with unabashed warmth, the unspoken bond of shared trials—forged on Carthis 7 and beyond—radiating from every glance and clasped shoulder.
Briggs pushed back, “You all look like you’ve been through a meat grinder. ”Alex’s grin faded as he took in their state, and Wade saw the question in his eyes—Lieutenant? Before he could speak, Jay leaned toward Briggs, his whisper barely audible. “He’s Lieutenant Kovacs now. We all are, technically.”
Briggs’ eyebrows shot up, and Wade suppressed a grimace. Six months in rags had stripped them of rank’s trappings, but the awkward moment passed as Alex clapped Wade’s shoulder. “Good to see you, sir,” he said, the title half-teasing, half-respectful. “Let’s get you off this rock.”
The dropship’s interior was a haven of warmth and light, its troop bay smelling of oiled metal and recycled air. Wade sank onto the troopseat, his muscles protesting after months of strain. The other three joining him. Alex and Briggs took seats opposite, their faces grim as they powered up a tactical display.
“We thought you were dead,” Alex said, his tone matter-of-fact but heavy. “Six months, no word. Then your signal lit up command’s scopes.”
“Why no Skravaks?” Wade asked, cutting to the heart of it. “This place should be crawling with them.”
Briggs leaned forward, his voice low. “They’re not Skravaks, not really. You know that better than us.”
Mayumi interjected, her voice precise despite her exhaustion. “Bioengineered insects, laced with human DNA fragments. Puppets for the rogue AI—RAI, or RAY, we call it. The lab proved it.”
Alex nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, well, those puppets are massing in X-ray sector around a planet called Dekar-9. Biggest fleet we’ve seen—hundreds of ships, maybe thousands of drones. Looks like RAI’s going all-in, planning on hitting our core worlds. That’s why this place is quiet. They’re too busy prepping for the endgame.”
Wade’s stomach twisted. Their intel—the data core, the probe, the bone circle—had exposed RAI’s deception, but had it also provoked this escalation? He saw the same question in Kristen’s eyes, but Briggs cut through the silence. “Doesn’t matter why,” he said gruffly. “Matters that we’ve got you now. General Redside’s waiting for that intel. If we move, we can hit ‘em hard.”
Wade nodded, but guilt gnawed at him. Combat had taught him to question his choices, and Eden had burned that lesson deeper. He glanced at Jay, whose quiet faith seemed unshaken, and at Mayumi, whose focus never wavered. Kristen’s hand brushed his, a fleeting anchor. They weren’t done fighting—not yet.
Unwanted Guests
The Thunderhawk landed 300 meters from the lab. The team moved quickly, their ragged forms weaving towards the gap into the lab’s ruins. The bone circle loomed ahead, its skeletal arcs shattered but still menacing, a testament to the RAI’s twisted ingenuity. Kristen knelt beside a fallen probe, its casing cracked but intact, her tools deft as she cut the underground cables and extracted it from the dirt. “This kills the bugs instantly,” she said, her voice tight with focus. “If we can adapt it, it’s going to be a game-changer.”
Wade guarded her flank, his pistol sweeping the shadows. Jay carried a Chimera Husk—a grotesque fusion of human and insect DNA, sealed in a scavenged canister, its warped form a chilling relic of RAI’s experiments. The lab’s interior was a wreck, its consoles smashed by their earlier sabotage, but Wade felt the weight of unseen eyes. “Hurry,” he urged, his voice low. “We’re not alone.”
Kristen nodded, pocketing another probe’s core. “Got it. Let’s burn this place.”
Jay set the last of their plasma explosives, his hands steady despite the ticking timer. Wade gave the signal, and they retreated. They sprinted for the dropship, dust stinging their faces. Alex and Briggs waited at the ramp, their rifles trained on the horizon. “Move!” Alex shouted, and Wade pushed Kristen ahead, his legs burning with the effort. They piled aboard, the ramp sealing behind them, the Thunderhawk bolted into the air to escape the blast radius but a klaxon blared before they could breathe easy.
The lab erupted in a huge fireball that lit the night. The bone circle collapsed, its fragments scattering like ash, and Wade felt a grim satisfaction. One less piece of RAI’s puzzle.
“RAI drones!” Briggs barked, pointing to the tactical display. Red blips converged on their position, their signatures unmistakable. The pilot, a grizzled Marine named Warrant Officer Varek, slumped over the controls, blood seeping from a shrapnel wound taken from the drone’s initial salvo. Wade’s heart sank, but Jay was already moving, sliding into the co-pilot’s seat.
“I’ve got this,” Jay said, his voice calm as he powered up the forward thrust. “Strap in.”
Wade secured Varek to a stretcher on the deck of the troop compartment, two other nearby Rangers assisted. Kristen stabilized him with a field medical kit and IV. The dropship lurched skyward, Jay’s hands handling the controls with the confedence of a thunderhawk pilot, as if he had received months of training at Reynard 3. It was his first flight but he had no time to second guess his skills. Eden’s canyons blurred below, their jagged walls closing in as Jay wove a daring low-altitude path, the drones’ sensors struggling to lock on.
“Hold on!” Jay called, banking hard to avoid a missile lock. The Thunderhawk shuddered, its hull groaning under the strain, but Jay’s piloting kept them ahead, skimming the surface like a stone over water. Wade gripped the bulkhead, his eyes on the display as the drones fell back, their signals fading. Kristen’s hand found his again, her grip fierce.
“Nice flying, Ringler,” Briggs said, a rare grin breaking his stoicism. “You’re wasted on Rangers. Should’ve been a Navy pilot!”
Jay chuckled, but his eyes stayed on the controls. “Tell that to the Lord. He’s got plans.”
Adapt and Overcome
The Thunderhawk’s hull vibrated with a worrisome groan as Jay leveled out, the last RAI drone’s signal fading on the tactical display. Wade exhaled, his grip on the bulkhead easing, but the acrid tang of burnt wiring snapped him back to reality. Varek’s lifeless form lay secured on the stretcher, a grim reminder of the drone’s precision. Kristen, her face pale from the failed IV attempt, checked the cockpit’s status panel, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Jay, the console’s fried—shrapnel tore through the nav relays. We’re flying blind, and the hull’s breached. We won’t make orbit like this.”
Jay’s jaw tightened, his hands steady on the controls. “Got a fix, Lieutenant?” he asked Wade, his voice calm despite the strain.
Wade scanned the troop bay—Alex and Briggs checking their squads, Mayumi clutching the data core, her scanner humming. “Find us cover,” he ordered Jay. “Somewhere isolated, away from the lab’s scan range. We’ll patch her up.”
Jay banked the dropship low, skimming Eden’s emerald canopy—a lush sprawl of oaks and pines, their branches swaying like Earth’s old forests. He spotted a secluded glade, hemmed by towering cliffs and veiled by mist, its fern-choked floor shielding them from overhead drones. “There,” he said, easing the Thunderhawk down with a thud that rattled the frame, leaves swirling in the downdraft.
The team spilled out, weapons raised, scanning the verdant shadows. Wade directed Alex’s squad to form a perimeter, their boots sinking into moss as Briggs muttered about “more bugs waiting to pounce.” Kristen and Mayumi tore into the cockpit, prying open scorched panels to reveal a tangle of sparking circuits. “Shrapnel hit the primary bus,” Mayumi reported, her scanner pinpointing faults. “We’ve got backup relays, but the hull patch needs sealing—fast.”
Wade hauled a salvaged RAI toolkit from the lab raids, its tools corroded but functional. Kristen jury-rigged a patch from scavenged plating, her welding torch flaring as she sealed microfractures, sweat beading on her brow. “This’ll hold for vacuum,” she said, “but don’t ask for miracles.” Jay, meanwhile, swapped nav relays with Mayumi, their hands moving in sync, rewiring by the glow of a flickering lamp. Wade kept watch, his pistol trained on the treeline, Eden’s beauty a deceptive mask for RAI’s reach.
A distant drone hum spurred them faster—Alex signaled all-clear, but time was short. Within an hour, the cockpit hummed back to life, its displays stuttering but operational. Kristen wiped grime from her hands, nodding to Wade. “She’s not going to win a beauty contest, but she’ll fly.”
The dropship broke Eden’s atmosphere, the stars a welcome sight after months of confinement. Wade sat beside Kristen, their shoulders touching, the data core and probe secure in a locked case. Mayumi murmured a prayer of thanksgiving, her voice soft but steady, echoing Isaiah 40:31: “They will mount up with wings like eagles.” Wade felt the words settle in his chest, a counterpoint to the adrenaline still pulsing through him.
Alex leaned across the aisle, his voice low. “He gonna make it?” , pointing to the unconscious pilot. Kristen shook her head, “He was gone before we finished the IV.”
Wade grimaced, the weight of his commission returning. Carthis 7, The Zoo, the Skravak ship—every trial had led here, to a fight bigger than himself. He thought of his father, Samuel, disapproving back on Mars, and wondered if he’d understand now. But Kristen’s eyes met his, her resolve mirroring his own. Jay’s faith, Mayumi’s clarity, Alex and Briggs’ loyalty—they were his strength, his family.
“We’re not done,” Wade said, his voice firm. “Chief’s death is not in vain. RAI’s got a war coming, and we’ve got the intel to end it.”
Briggs clapped his shoulder. “That’s the Lieutenant I know.”
The dropship’s engines hummed, carrying them toward Confederation space, toward General Redside and a battle that would test them all. Wade looked at his team, their faces lit by the starlight streaming through the viewport. They’d survived Eden, but the real fight was just beginning.
But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
(Matthew 6:33)
But seek His kingdom, and these things will be added to you. Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has chosen gladly to give you the kingdom.
(Luke 12:31-32)
Introduction
Matthew 6:33 and Luke 12:31-32 present a profound concept central to Jesus’ teaching: the priority of God’s kingdom. This essay explores the depth and implications of this directive, focusing on the phrase “seek first” and its connection to Jesus as the Messiah and King.
Linguistic Analysis
The Greek term for “seek” is ζητέω (zēteō, Strong’s G2212), which carries the nuance of actively pursuing or striving after something. In the context of Matthew 6:33, it implies a deliberate, ongoing effort to prioritize God’s kingdom above all else. This seeking is not passive but requires intentional action and commitment.
Theological Significance
The Kingdom Concept
Jesus’ emphasis on seeking the kingdom first reveals several key attributes of God:
1. Sovereignty: The kingdom belongs to God, highlighting His supreme authority.
2. Righteousness: The kingdom is intrinsically linked with God’s righteousness, reflecting His perfect moral character.
3. Provision: God promises to meet the needs of those who prioritize His kingdom.
Christological Fulfillment
Jesus, as the perfect embodiment of seeking God’s kingdom, demonstrated this principle throughout His earthly ministry. He consistently prioritized the Father’s will, even to the point of death on the cross. His life serves as the ultimate example of what it means to seek first the kingdom.
Practical Implications
Seeking first the kingdom involves:
1. Prioritizing God’s purposes in all areas of life.
2. Actively pursuing righteousness.
3. Trusting God for provision rather than worrying about material needs.
4. Shifting focus from worldly pursuits to eternal values.
The Present Reality of Christ’s Lordship
It’s crucial to understand that the Lordship of Jesus Christ is not merely a future reality but a present truth. While the kingdom will reach its ultimate fulfillment in the future, believers are called to live under Christ’s authority now, recognizing His sovereignty in every aspect of life.
Conclusion
The concept of seeking first God’s kingdom is transformative, calling believers to a radical reorientation of priorities. It illuminates Jesus’ kingship and the expansive, eternal nature of God’s reign. As we align our lives with this principle, we participate in the unfolding of God’s redemptive plan, experiencing the provision and peace that come from trusting in His sovereignty.
Disciple-Maker’s Short Story
Choosing the Kingdom Over the Crown
The mall buzzed with the frenetic energy of teenagers hunting for the perfect prom night dress. Carol stood paralyzed before a rack of shimmering gowns, her inner turmoil mirroring the glittering chaos around her.
“What do you think, Jenny?” Carol finally asked, her voice a hesitant whisper. She held up a sapphire dress, its intricate beadwork catching the light.
Jenny, her mentor, leaned against a nearby display, her gaze perceptive. “It’s stunning, Carol. But I sense there’s a deeper question swirling beneath the surface than just which dress to wear.”
Carol’s shoulders slumped, the weight of her indecision dragging her down. “You’re right. Two guys asked me to prom… and I’m completely torn.”
Jenny nodded knowingly. “Let me guess. One embodies every teenage girl’s dream – popular, handsome, the king of the social scene?”
“That’s Jake,” Carol confirmed with a sigh. “Everyone expects me to go with him. It would be… easy. But then there’s Mark. He’s… different. He’s not the most popular, but he’s kind, thoughtful, a true gentleman.”
Jenny sat beside her on a small bench, her eyes full of gentle wisdom. “I see. So, how do we unravel this tangle? Let’s start with a few questions. Which choice do you think aligns more closely with seeking God’s kingdom?”
Carol looked down at her hands, picking at an imaginary thread. “Well, Mark is always volunteering, helping people. Jake… Jake mostly focuses on himself.”
Jenny smiled encouragingly. “Okay. Now, second question: How might each choice reflect Christ’s character and values?”
“That’s the problem!” Carol exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Jake is… arrogant. He thinks he’s better than everyone. Mark treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.”
“Interesting,” Jenny replied thoughtfully. “Third question: Think about the long game. Which person would be more likely to encourage your spiritual growth and walk with God?”
A flicker of sadness crossed Carol’s face. “I know Jake wouldn’t. He doesn’t even understand my faith. Mark is always asking questions, wanting to learn. We talk about God all the time.”
Jenny leaned closer, her voice soft. “Last question, Carol, and this is where we tie it all together. Remember Matthew 6:33? ‘But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.’ How might applying this verse guide your decision?”
Carol closed her eyes, picturing Jesus’s humble, selfless love. The faces of Jake and Mark flashed in her mind. A deep breath filled her lungs as she opened her eyes, a newfound resolve etched on her face.
“I’ve been so caught up in what everyone else expects,” Carol admitted, her voice stronger now. “I’ve been chasing the crown instead of the kingdom. But seeking first God’s kingdom… that means choosing the person who reflects His character, who will encourage me to grow closer to Him, even if it’s not the popular choice.”
Jenny beamed, squeezing Carol’s hand. “And what does that look like for you, right here, right now?”
A genuine smile bloomed on Carol’s face. “It means I’m going to call Mark. And I’m going to wear a dress that makes me feel comfortable and confident, not one that tries to impress anyone else.”
As they walked away from the glittering gowns, Carol felt a sense of peace she hadn’t expected. She hadn’t chosen the crown of popularity, but in choosing Mark, she knew she was taking a step toward a kingdom of true value, a kingdom ruled by love, humility, and grace, driven by her motivation to be more like Jesus.
Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke to watch the Master Teacher leave room for timing, mystery, and self-discovery in His discipleship.
The next day, as they came down from the mountain, Jesus commanded and admonished them, “Do not tell anyone about this vision and what you have seen until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” So they kept this matter to themselves, discussing what it meant to rise from the dead.
The disciples asked Jesus, “Why then do the scribes say that Elijah must come first?” He replied, “Elijah does indeed come, and he will restore all things. Why then is it written that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected? But I tell you that Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him, but have done to him whatever they wished just as it is written about him. In the same way, the Son of Man will suffer at their hands.” Then the disciples understood that He was speaking to them about John the Baptist.
My Thoughts
We see Jesus is communicating two things in this passage; First, the return of Elijah (John the Baptist) would not be recognized and they would kill him. And second, just like John, the people wouldn’t recognize Jesus for who He was either. He would suffer, and be rejected as well. The disciples latched on to the part about John the Baptist but the part about their Master went right over their heads. And here’s how we know they didn’t have a clue about what Jesus was saying about His death;
“But they did not understand this statement, and it was concealed from them so that they would not comprehend it; and they were afraid to ask Him about this statement.”
Here’s the kicker – Jesus didn’t even bother explaining the most important part of their discussion. How strange but how “Jesus Like.”
This reminds me of what my friend, Steve Smith, used to teach; “The Law of the Straw.” In other words, as disciple-makers, he was exhorting us not to over feed the disciples. Just teach a little at a time. Leave some room for curiosity and self-discovery just like Jesus.
So how did Jesus teach?
Jesus taught in a way that prioritized spiritual growth over simply delivering information. He sparked curiosity and reflection, creating space for self-discovery rather than providing every answer, as seen when the disciples pondered what “rising from the dead” meant (Mark 9:10). He respected the timing of revelation, instructing His disciples to stay silent about certain truths until the right moment, knowing understanding often follows obedience and experience (Matthew 17:9). Jesus emphasized faith over full comprehension, calling His followers to trust in the midst of mystery, as when He spoke of Elijah’s coming (Mark 9:13). By using parables and partial answers, He cultivated mature disciples, inviting them to think, seek, and grow through the tension of mystery (Matthew 17:13). Ultimately, Jesus modeled a Spirit-led approach, offering just enough to stir the heart and allowing the Holy Spirit and the Word of God to guide deeper understanding.
This is the way Jesus made disciples. And if we would follow Jesus’ example and Steve’s advice, it would help us to do a better job discipling those who are entrusted to us.
My Story
Wow, I have been guilty of just the opposite. There have been times when I would sit down with a guy I was mentoring and he would ask a question. I would start talking and forty five minutes later his eyes would start to roll into the back of his head and go into a comatose state. This is the “Teacher’s Curse!” (It’s also the “Old Guy’s Curse.” So old guys, listen up!). We go into the TMI mode (Too Much Information) and turn a simple answer into a doctoral dissertation. But even when Jesus was talking about complex things, He didn’t feel the need to explain it to the nth degree.
I used to do this a lot more than I do now. So what’s the cure for the curse? Glad you asked!
Jesus. Follow His example. Ask more questions, talk less, and leave room for dessert.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Time yourself with those you are mentoring. Are you talking more than they are?
Use the 70/30 rule. You listen 70% of the time and talk 30%.
Teach this to those you are discipling. (Notice I never say “your disciples.” Ask me why. charleswood1@gmail.com)
Jesus shows us that less can be more when guiding others, leaving room for curiosity and self-discovery from the Spirit and the Word. Let’s follow His lead, using “The Law of the Straw.”
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver cómo el Maestro de Maestros da cabida al tiempo, al misterio y al autodescubrimiento en su discipulado.
Comencemos.
Mateo 17:9-13, Marcos 9:9-13, Lucas 9:37(a)
Al día siguiente, mientras descendían del monte, Jesús les mandó y les advirtió: «No cuenten a nadie esta visión ni lo que han visto hasta que el Hijo del Hombre resucite». Así que guardaron silencio sobre este asunto, discutiendo sobre el significado de resucitar.
Los discípulos le preguntaron a Jesús: «¿Por qué, entonces, dicen los escribas que Elías debe venir primero?». Él respondió: «Elías sí viene, y restaurará todas las cosas. ¿Por qué, entonces, está escrito que el Hijo del Hombre debe sufrir mucho y ser rechazado? Pero les digo que Elías ya vino, y no lo reconocieron, sino que hicieron con él todo lo que quisieron, tal como está escrito de él. De la misma manera, el Hijo del Hombre sufrirá a manos de ellos». Entonces los discípulos comprendieron que les hablaba de Juan el Bautista.
Mis Pensamientos
Vemos que Jesús comunica dos cosas en este pasaje: primero, que el regreso de Elías (Juan el Bautista) no sería reconocido y lo matarían. Y segundo, al igual que Juan, la gente tampoco reconocería a Jesús por quién era. Él sufriría y también sería rechazado. Los discípulos se aferraron a la parte sobre Juan el Bautista, pero la parte sobre su Maestro pasó completamente desapercibida para ellos. Y así es como sabemos que no tenían ni idea de lo que Jesús decía sobre su muerte:
“Pero ellos no entendían esta declaración, y les era ocultada para que no la comprendieran; y tenían miedo de preguntarle sobre ella.”
Lucas 9:45
Y aquí está el punto clave: Jesús ni siquiera se molestó en explicar la parte más importante de su conversación. Qué extraño, pero qué “gusto” para Jesús.
Esto me recuerda lo que mi amigo Steve Smith solía enseñar: “La Ley de la Paja”. En otras palabras, como hacedores de discípulos, nos exhortaba a no sobrealimentar a los discípulos. Enseñe poco a poco. Deje espacio para la curiosidad y el autodescubrimiento, como Jesús.
¿Cómo enseñaba Jesús?
Jesús enseñaba priorizando el crecimiento espiritual por encima de la simple transmisión de información. Despertaba la curiosidad y la reflexión, creando espacio para el autodescubrimiento en lugar de proporcionar todas las respuestas, como se vio cuando los discípulos reflexionaron sobre el significado de “resucitar de entre los muertos” (Marcos 9:10). Respetaba el momento oportuno de la revelación, instruyendo a sus discípulos a guardar silencio sobre ciertas verdades hasta el momento oportuno, sabiendo que la comprensión a menudo sigue a la obediencia y la experiencia (Mateo 17:9). Jesús enfatizó la fe por encima de la comprensión plena, llamando a sus seguidores a confiar en medio del misterio, como cuando habló de la venida de Elías (Marcos 9:13). Mediante parábolas y respuestas parciales, cultivó discípulos maduros, invitándolos a pensar, buscar y crecer a través de la tensión del misterio (Mateo 17:13). En definitiva, Jesús modeló un enfoque guiado por el Espíritu, ofreciendo solo lo suficiente para conmover el corazón y permitiendo que el Espíritu Santo y la Palabra de Dios guiaran una comprensión más profunda.
Así es como Jesús hizo discípulos. Y si siguiéramos el ejemplo de Jesús y el consejo de Steve, nos ayudaría a discipular mejor a quienes se nos han confiado.
Mi Historia
¡Vaya!, yo he sido culpable de justo lo contrario. Ha habido veces en las que me sentaba con un chico al que estaba asesorando y me hacía una pregunta. Empezaba a hablar y cuarenta y cinco minutos después, sus ojos se ponían en blanco y entraba en coma. ¡Esta es la “Maldición del Maestro”! (También es la “Maldición del Viejo”. ¡Así que, viejos, escuchen!). Entramos en modo TMI (Demasiada Información) y convertimos una respuesta simple en una tesis doctoral. Pero incluso cuando Jesús hablaba de cosas complejas, no sentía la necesidad de explicarlas hasta el último detalle.
Antes hacía esto mucho más que ahora. Entonces, ¿cuál es la cura para la maldición? ¡Me alegra que preguntes!
Jesús. Sigue su ejemplo. Haz más preguntas, habla menos y deja espacio para el postre.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicarlo. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
Tómate tu tiempo con quienes estás mentoreando. ¿Hablas más que ellos?
Usa la regla 70/30: escuchas el 70% del tiempo y hablas el 30%.
Enséñales esto a quienes estás discipulando. (Nota: nunca digo “tus discípulos”. Pregúntame por qué).
Jesús nos muestra que menos puede ser más al guiar a otros, dejando espacio para la curiosidad y el autodescubrimiento a través del Espíritu y la Palabra. Sigamos su ejemplo, usando la “Ley de la Paja”.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
And it will come about in the last days that the mountain of the house of the LORD will be established as the chief of the mountains. It will be raised above the hills, and the peoples will stream to it. Many nations will come and say, “Come and let us go up to the mountain of the LORD and to the house of the God of Jacob, that He may teach us about His ways and that we may walk in His paths.” For from Zion will go forth the law, even the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. And He will judge between many peoples and render decisions for mighty, distant nations. Then they will hammer their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; nation will not lift up sword against nation, and never again will they train for war. Each of them will sit under his vine and under his fig tree, with no one to make them afraid, for the mouth of the LORD of hosts has spoken. Though all the peoples walk each in the name of his god, as for us, we will walk in the name of the LORD our God forever and ever. “In that day,” declares the LORD, “I will assemble the lame and gather the outcasts, even those whom I have afflicted. I will make the lame a remnant and the outcasts a strong nation, and the LORD will reign over them in Mount Zion from now on and forever. As for you, tower of the flock, hill of the daughter of Zion, to you it will come—even the former dominion will come, the kingdom of the daughter of Jerusalem.”
Micah 4:1-8 presents a profound vision of the Messianic age, focusing on the peace and rest that will characterize Jesus’ ultimate reign. This passage, rich in prophetic imagery, offers a glimpse into the transformative power of Christ’s kingship, both in its future fulfillment and its present reality for believers.
Linguistic Analysis: “And never again will they train for war”
The Hebrew phrase “וְלֹא־יִלְמְד֥וּן ע֖וֹד מִלְחָמָֽה” (wə·lō- yil·mə·ḏūn ‘ō·wḏ mil·ḥā·māh) is particularly significant. The verb “יִלְמְד֥וּן” (yil·mə·ḏūn) comes from the root למד (lamad, Strong’s H3925), meaning “to learn, study, or teach”[1]. The negation “לֹא” (lo) combined with “עוֹד” (‘od, Strong’s H5750) emphasizes the complete cessation of this activity.
Theological Significance
This phrase encapsulates the profound peace that will characterize Christ’s kingdom. It goes beyond mere absence of conflict, suggesting a fundamental reorientation of human society away from violence and towards God’s shalom.
Jesus as the Perfect Example
Jesus, as the Prince of Peace Isaiah 9:6, exemplifies this concept in His earthly ministry. He taught non-violence for personal revenge Matthew 5:39 and demonstrated peace-making through His sacrificial love on the cross Colossians 1:20. His resurrection victory over death establishes the foundation for eternal peace in His kingdom.
The Kingdom of God: Present and Future
While Micah’s prophecy points to a future reality, the peace of Christ’s kingdom is not merely a distant hope. Jesus proclaimed, “The kingdom of God is at hand” Mark 1:15, indicating its present availability to believers. Through faith in Christ, we can experience a foretaste of this ultimate peace, even amidst current trials.
Implications for Believers
Rest in Christ: Believers can find true rest in Jesus’ lordship, echoing His invitation in Matthew 11:28-30.
Peacemaking: We are called to be active peacemakers Matthew 5:9, reflecting the character of our King.
Spiritual Warfare: While one day we no longer “train for war” in the fullness of His kingdom, we will certainly train and engage in spiritual battles in this age Ephesians 6:12, relying on Christ’s victory.
Conclusion
Micah’s prophecy of a world where nations “never again will train for war” points to the comprehensive peace of Christ’s eternal reign. This concept reveals God’s heart for reconciliation and restoration, fulfilled ultimately in Jesus. As we submit to His lordship now, we participate in bringing glimpses of His kingdom peace into our present world, anticipating the day when His reign will be fully realized.
Disciple-Maker’s Short Story
The Last Watch
The full moon cast long shadows across the valley floor, its silvery light barely penetrating the thick camouflage netting draped over the bunker’s observation slit. Staff Sergeant Rome shifted his weight, the wooden crate beneath him creaking softly as he studied Private First Class Edmonton’s face in the dim light.
The young soldier’s hands trembled slightly as he lowered his night vision device. “Movement, three hundred meters,” he whispered, his voice tight with tension. “Southeast quadrant, near the tree line.”
Rome nodded, picking up his own optics. The familiar weight of his rifle pressed against his side as he scanned the indicated sector. Nothing but shadows dancing in the mountain breeze. He set his NODs down and turned to Edmonton, noting how the private’s jaw clenched and unclenched rhythmically.
“You know what I read this morning?” Rome kept his voice low, barely above a whisper. “Micah 4:3. ‘He will judge between many peoples and will settle disputes for strong nations far and wide. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.'”
Edmonton’s eyes, wide and alert in the darkness, flickered toward his sergeant. “Sergeant?”
“Been turning those words over in my mind all day,” Rome continued, his weathered features softening. “Thinking about Jesus, the King who’ll bring this transformation. He’s the one Micah was writing about – the Prince of Peace who’ll turn everything meant for war into something that gives life instead.”
“You really believe Jesus will do all that, Sergeant?” Edmonton’s voice carried equal measures of hope and doubt.
Rome smiled gently. “He’s already begun the work. Look at what He did in His first coming – He conquered not through force, but through sacrifice. He showed us a different kind of kingdom altogether. And when He returns as King, He’ll complete what He started – that final transformation Micah saw.”
The private’s posture shifted slightly, interest replacing some of the fear in his expression.
“You see, when I first enlisted, I thought our weapons were the answer. Thought we could force peace into existence through superior firepower. But then I started understanding Jesus and His kingdom – how He’s the one who’ll bring about this complete transformation. It changed everything for me.”
Edmonton absorbed this in silence, his breathing steadier now. “But if Jesus is the Prince of Peace, why are we still here, still fighting a war?”
“Because His kingdom is ‘already but not yet,'” Rome replied. “We’re here because right now, in this broken world, sometimes we have to stand between the innocent and those who would harm them. But we don’t train for war because we like it – we do it while waiting for Jesus to complete His work, when He’ll transform all these weapons into tools of life.”
The private turned back to his observation post, but his shoulders had lost their rigid tension. “So we’re not just soldiers, we’re…servants of His kingdom?”
“Exactly,” Rome nodded. “Waiting for our King to return and fulfill Micah’s vision – when these rifles become rakes, and these bunkers become garden beds. Until then, we serve with honor, but we never forget who we’re really serving – the King who will make war obsolete.”
“The day when Jesus transforms everything,” Edmonton whispered, the words taking on new meaning in the darkness.
“That’s right. He’s the one who makes it all possible. Now, back on watch. Southeast quadrant needs eyes on it.”
The night stretched on, moonlight painting the valley in shades of silver and shadow. Two soldiers maintained their vigil – one teaching, one learning, both serving their earthly nation, but waiting for the return of their King and the dawn of His promised transformation.
After about six to eight days Jesus took with Him Peter, James, and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves to pray. And as He was praying, He was transfigured before them. The appearance of His face changed and shone like the sun. His clothes became radiantly white as the light, brighter than any launderer on earth could bleach them. Suddenly two men, Moses and Elijah, began talking with Jesus. They appeared in glory and spoke about His departure, which He was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
Meanwhile Peter and his companions were overcome by sleep, but when they awoke, they saw Jesus’ glory and the two men standing with Him. As Moses and Elijah were leaving, Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, Lord, Master, it is good for us to be here. If You wish, Let us put up three shelters—one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” (For they were all so terrified that Peter did not know what else to say.)
While Peter was still speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. And a voice from the cloud said, “This is My beloved Son, whom I have chosen and in whom I am well pleased. Listen to HIM!” When the disciples heard this, they fell facedown in terror. Then Jesus came over and touched them. “Get up,” He said. “Do not be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus. The disciples kept this to themselves, and in those days they did not tell anyone what they had seen.
My Thoughts
Have you ever searched for something only to realize it was right in front of you? My wife, Deb, often gently points out the obvious when I’m hunting for my reading glasses—usually perched on my head. “Oh, duh!” It’s a humbling moment when someone highlights what we’ve overlooked. I believe that’s what God the Father was doing for Jesus’ disciples during the Transfiguration.
Picture this: Jesus, radiant like a beacon, standing with Moses and Elijah. The disciples are awestruck, and honestly, who wouldn’t be? But Peter, unsure of what to say, blurts out, “Master, let’s build three tents—one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” In his excitement, he misses the point.
Then God the Father steps in. A cloud envelops them, and a voice declares, “This is My beloved Son, whom I have chosen and in whom I am well pleased. Listen to HIM!” The message is clear: Jesus is the focus. Not Moses, not Elijah, as great as they were. The Transfiguration is about God’s Son.
The writer of Hebrews echoes this, emphasizing that Jesus, the High Priestly King, surpasses Moses, angels, and all others (Hebrews 1:1-14, 3:1-6). Today, I find myself constantly redirecting people to the supremacy of Jesus over Paul, Peter, the Apostles, preachers, or anyone else we might elevate.
Do you see this in today’s church? Listen closely to what’s celebrated in some “Christian” circles, and you might notice Jesus is often conspicuously missing. Let’s heed the Father’s words: “This is My beloved Son… Listen to HIM!”
My Story
For decades, I’ve encouraged people, “Read the Gospels every day.” Yes, I believe in reading the whole counsel of God, but before you think I’m minimizing the rest of the Bible, hear me out.
The Gospels offer the clearest picture of Jesus, whose every word came directly from the Father (John 12:49-50). Jesus is our ultimate example of love, life, and service in God’s kingdom (John 5:19, 8:28). As the “exact representation of God” (Hebrews 1:3-4), He reveals the Father like nothing else this side of heaven. Want to know God? Look at Jesus. Want to see humanity as God intended before the fall? Look at Jesus. Want to know Jesus? Read the Gospels.
You might raise some valid points. First, “All Scripture is inspired by God and points to Jesus!” (John 5:39, 2 Timothy 3:16). Absolutely true. But even Scripture acknowledges that some truths are “mysterious” (Colossians 1:26-27) and we see Jesus directly revealing some of them in the Gospels. Second, “Aren’t you pitting Scripture against itself?” Not at all. The writer of Hebrews didn’t undermine Scripture by highlighting Christ’s supremacy over Moses and angels (Hebrews 1:1-14, 3:1-6). Finally, “We learn about Jesus outside the Gospels too!” (Philippians 2:5-11). Correct, but nowhere matches the sheer volume and clarity of the Gospels (John 1:16-18, Matthew 11:27).
So, read the Gospels daily to get to know Jesus better. He’s your Lord and Savior. For the record, I read or listen to the entire Bible about three times every two years—every word matters! But make seeing Jesus in the Gospels a daily priority.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Start reading a little of the gospels daily.
Teach others to do the same.
Memorize these passages, John 1:16-18, 5:19,39, 8:28, 12:49-50, Philippians 2:5-11, Hebrews 1:1-14 & 3:1-6.
In the end, it’s all about Jesus—God’s beloved Son who shows us the Father’s heart. So, grab your Bible, read it all and the Gospels daily. Listen to HIM!
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver cómo Dios Padre ayudó a los discípulos a centrarse en su Hijo.
Comencemos.
Mateo 17:1-8, Marcos 9:2-8, Lucas 9:28-36
Después de unos seis u ocho días, Jesús tomó consigo a Pedro, a Jacobo y a Juan, el hermano de Jacobo, y los llevó aparte a un monte alto para orar. Y mientras oraba, se transfiguró delante de ellos. La apariencia de su rostro cambió y brilló como el sol. Sus vestiduras se volvieron blancas como la luz, más brillantes que cualquier lavandero en la tierra. De repente, dos hombres, Moisés y Elías, comenzaron a hablar con Jesús. Aparecieron en gloria y le hablaron de su partida, que estaba a punto de cumplir en Jerusalén.
Mientras tanto, Pedro y sus compañeros estaban sumidos en el sueño, pero al despertar, vieron la gloria de Jesús y a los dos hombres que estaban con él. Mientras Moisés y Elías se marchaban, Pedro le dijo a Jesús: «Rabí, Señor, Maestro, es bueno que estemos aquí. Si quieres, podemos hacer tres carpas: una para ti, otra para Moisés y otra para Elías». (Porque todos estaban tan aterrorizados que Pedro no supo qué más decir).
Mientras Pedro aún hablaba, una nube brillante los envolvió, y al entrar en ella, sintieron miedo. Y una voz desde la nube dijo: «Este es mi Hijo amado, a quien he elegido y en quien tengo complacencia. ¡Escúchenlo!». Al oír esto, los discípulos cayeron rostro en tierra aterrorizados. Entonces Jesús se acercó, los tocó y les dijo: «Levántense, no tengan miedo». Y cuando levantaron la vista, no vieron a nadie más que a Jesús. Los discípulos guardaron silencio, y en aquellos días no contaron a nadie lo que habían visto.
Mis Pensamientos
¿Alguna vez has buscado algo solo para darte cuenta de que estaba justo frente a ti? Mi esposa, Deb, a menudo me señala con delicadeza lo obvio cuando busco mis gafas, generalmente puestas en mi cabeza. “¡Oh, claro!” Es un momento de humildad cuando alguien resalta lo que hemos pasado por alto. Creo que eso es lo que Dios Padre estaba haciendo por los discípulos de Jesús durante la Transfiguración.
Imagínate esto: Jesús, radiante como un faro, de pie con Moisés y Elías. Los discípulos están asombrados, y honestamente, ¿quién no lo estaría? Pero Pedro, sin saber qué decir, exclama: “Maestro, construyamos tres tiendas: una para ti, una para Moisés y una para Elías”. En su emoción, no entiende lo importante.
Entonces Dios Padre interviene. Una nube los envuelve y una voz declara: “Este es mi Hijo amado, a quien he elegido y en quien tengo complacencia. ¡Escúchenlo!”. El mensaje es claro: Jesús es el centro. Ni Moisés ni Elías, por muy grandes que fueran. La Transfiguración se trata del Hijo de Dios.
El escritor de Hebreos hace eco de esto, enfatizando que Jesús, el Rey Sumo Sacerdote, supera a Moisés, a los ángeles y a todos los demás (Hebreos 1:1-14, 3:1-6). Hoy en día, me encuentro constantemente redireccionando a la gente a la supremacía de Jesús sobre Pablo, los apóstoles, los predicadores o cualquier otra persona a quien podamos elevar.
¿Ves esto en la iglesia actual? Presta atención a lo que se celebra en algunos círculos “cristianos”, y quizás notes que Jesús a menudo brilla por su ausencia. Prestemos atención a las palabras del Padre: “Este es mi Hijo amado… ¡Escúchalo!”
Mi Historia
Durante décadas, he animado a la gente a leer los Evangelios todos los días. Sí, creo en leer todo el consejo de Dios, pero antes de que piensen que estoy minimizando el resto de la Biblia, escúchenme.
Los Evangelios ofrecen la imagen más clara de Jesús, cuyas palabras vinieron directamente del Padre (Juan 12:49-50). Jesús es nuestro máximo ejemplo de amor, vida y servicio en el reino de Dios (Juan 5:19, 8:28). Como la “representación exacta de Dios” (Hebreos 1:3-4), revela al Padre como nadie más en este lado del cielo. ¿Quieren conocer a Dios? Observen a Jesús. ¿Quieren ver a la humanidad como Dios la concibió antes de la caída? Observen a Jesús. ¿Quieren conocer a Jesús? Lean los Evangelios.
Podrían plantear algunos puntos válidos. Primero: “¡Toda la Escritura es inspirada por Dios y apunta a Jesús!” (Juan 5:39, 1 Timoteo 3:16). Totalmente cierto. Pero incluso la Escritura reconoce que algunas verdades son “misteriosas” (Colosenses 1:26-27) y vemos a Jesús revelar directamente algunas de ellas en los Evangelios. En segundo lugar, “¿No estás contradiciendo la Escritura?”. Para nada. El escritor de Hebreos no menospreció la Escritura al destacar la supremacía de Cristo sobre Moisés y los ángeles (Hebreos 1:1-14, 3:1-6). Finalmente, “¡También aprendemos sobre Jesús fuera de los Evangelios!” (Filipenses 2:5-11). Correcto, pero en ningún otro lugar se compara con la gran cantidad y claridad de los Evangelios (Juan 1:16-18, Mateo 11:27).
Así que, lee los Evangelios a diario para acercarte más a Jesús, tu Señor y Salvador. Para que conste, leo o escucho la Biblia completa unas tres veces cada dos años; ¡cada palabra importa! Pero haz de los Evangelios y ver a Jesús mismo una prioridad diaria.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicarlo. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
Empieza a leer un poco de los Evangelios a diario.
Enseña a otros a hacer lo mismo.
Memoriza estos pasajes: Juan 1:16-18, 5:19,39, 8:28, 12:49-50, Filipenses 2:5-11, Hebreos 1:1-14 y 3:1-6.
Al final, todo se trata de Jesús, el Hijo amado de Dios que nos muestra el corazón del Padre. Así que, toma tu Biblia, léela completa y los Evangelios a diario. ¡Escúchalo!
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
Accordingly, whatever you have said in the dark will be heard in the light, and what you have whispered in the inner rooms will be proclaimed upon the housetops.
Luke 12:3
The Grim Circle
The cabin’s lone table groaned under the weight of four hunched figures, their shadows flickering against the log walls as the fire spat embers into the dim. Two days of recon had left Wade, Kristen, Jay, and Mayumi hollow-eyed but wired, their voices overlapping in a tangle of exhaustion and urgency. The slate between them bore a fresh sketch—a perfect circle, twenty feet high, jagged with Skravak bones, a single ten-meter gap yawning like a wound. In the center of it, a rough sketch of a comm array, its dishes frozen mid-shift, loomed over their words.
Wade leaned forward, elbows planted on the table, his pulse pistol a silent sentinel at his hip. “Two days watching that thing, and I still can’t square it,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, the cadence of a man wrestling with the impossible. “A perimeter of Skravak skeletons—stacked, not scattered—twenty feet of calcified menace, precise as a bulkhead. And that access point—ten meters wide, clean-edged, leading to a door that’s been open so long the dust’s a carpet.”
Kristen tapped the slate, her finger tracing the circle’s arc, her brow furrowed under a streak of alien dirt. “It’s not random, Wade,” she said, her tone sharp with conviction. “Those bones aren’t wind-piled—someone, something, built that wall or stopped them in their tracks. And the door? Decades, maybe centuries, untouched. No tracks, no wind-shift. Whatever happened here, it’s been dead a long time.”
Jay snorted, slumping back with a restless twitch, his hands drumming the table’s edge. “Dead, sure, but not quiet,” he said, his voice carrying a jagged edge of unease. “That comm array’s alive—six-hour shifts, regular as a chronometer. We watched it tilt yesterday, sunlight glinting off the main dish like a beacon. Mechanical as all get out, but Mayumi’s scanner says it’s mute—no signal, no EM pulse. Just gears grinding for nobody.”
Mayumi nodded, her sharp eyes flicking to the scanner resting beside her—a battered relic of their scout ship, its screen cracked but glowing faintly. “He’s right,” she said, her words clipped, precise, a technician’s clarity cutting through the murk. “I ran a full sweep. Nothing. No carrier wave, no handshake protocol. It’s a ghost system, cycling on a timer, built to talk to the stars but saying zilch. Tech like that doesn’t just sit idle—not without purpose.”
Wade scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, his gaze narrowing as he stared at the slate’s skeletal ring. “Purpose is the kicker,” he muttered, half to himself. “Skravak don’t build like this—perimeters, yeah, but not art projects. Stack a wall of their own dead? That’s not their style—too organized, too… human. And that array—human design, no question. Clean lines, modular mounts. But it’s old, outdated. A century behind the rigs we’ve seen on their ships.”
Kristen’s hand brushed his arm, a fleeting anchor, before she leaned in, her voice dropping low. “Old, but powered,” she said. “That hum we caught—faint, steady, like a reactor on standby. Whatever’s feeding it hasn’t quit in all this time. And the door—open, inviting, but no one’s walked through. It’s a trap, a tomb, or a time capsule. Pick your poison.”
Jay barked a laugh, short and bitter, his fingers stilling on the table. “Tomb’s my bet,” he said. “Skravak bones outside, human tech inside? Sounds like a last stand—some poor losers got overrun, left their toys running. But if it’s a trap, who’s it for? Us? Something else? That array’s ticking like it’s waiting.”
Mayumi’s frown deepened, her mind visibly churning as she tapped the scanner’s edge. “Waiting’s the problem,” she said. “No signal doesn’t mean no function. Could be a relay—dormant, coded, something we can’t ping without the right key. Or it’s broadcasting on a band we don’t have. Point is, it’s active, and we’re blind to why. That’s not frozen in time—that’s poised.”
Wade straightened, his eyes sweeping the crew—his wife, his friends, his lifeline on this hostile paradise moon. “Poised or not, we’re not cracking it from here,” he said, his tone firming into command. “Two days recon gave us the shape—circle, door, array—but no answers. We’ve got a site that’s half mausoleum, half machine, and it’s been sitting there longer than any of us have been breathing. Splitting up’s off the table—too many unknowns, too little firepower. We go in together, all four of us.”
Kristen nodded, her gaze locking with his, a Ranger’s agreement layered over a wife’s trust. “Together’s the only play,” she said. “Pairs can’t cover that gap—ten meters is a kill zone if anything’s watching. Four sets of eyes, two pistols, bows for backup. We move slow, sweep it, figure out what we’re dealing with.”
Jay grinned, a flicker of his usual fire sparking through the tension. “Fine by me,” he said. “I’m itching to see inside that door—bones outside, secrets in. Just don’t ask me to wipe my feet on the welcome mat.”
Mayumi squeezed his arm, her lips twitching faintly before she turned serious again. “We need a plan beyond stepping in,” she said. “That array’s the key—mechanical or not, it’s the heartbeat. We disable it first, cut any chance of it waking up something we can’t handle. Then we dig.”
Wade tapped the slate once, decisive, the sound sharp in the quiet. “Agreed,” he said. “We pack light, move at dawn. Array first—kill its clock if we can. Then we search. No heroics, no risks we don’t have to take.” He paused, his voice softening as he met their eyes. “And we stick tight. Whatever built that circle, whatever left that door open, it’s not getting us cheap.”
Commo Down
The alien dawn broke in muted pinks and reds, casting long shadows across the skeletal circle as Wade led the crew toward the ten-meter gap. Their boots whispered over the mossy ground, each step measured, bows at the ready and pulse pistols gripped tight. The wall of Skravak bones loomed twenty feet high on either side—ribcages and skulls piled in a random tangle, a grim testament to some long-forgotten surge. Wade’s eyes narrowed as he caught two small probes, each a meter tall, jutting from the soil at the gap’s edges like silent sentinels. Their matte-black casings gleamed faintly, unmarred by time. Then he noticed one every ten meters in perfect alignment with the skeletal circle.
“Probes,” he murmured, voice barely above a breath, signaling a halt with a raised fist. “Flanking the entrance. Mayumi—sweep ‘em.”
Mayumi crouched low, her scanner humming faintly as she angled it toward the devices. Her brow furrowed, fingers dancing over the cracked screen. “Nothing,” she said, her tone clipped, analytical. “No power, no emissions—dead as the bones. Could be sensors, dormant or burned out. We’re blind either way.”
Wade edged closer, his gaze flicking between the probes and the half-open door beyond—it looks like these probes had something to do with these dead Skravak…all except this gap. This part of their perimeter failed I would guess.”
“That would be some handy tech for the fight, we should retrieve one of the probes when we have time.” Mayumi said, her voice steady but taut. “Let’s not wake anything up.”
“Single file, slow.” Wade said, “I’ll take point.”
His pulse pistol a steady weight in his hand as he advanced, the crew falling in behind—Kristen, then Mayumi, with Jay bringing up the rear. The gap stretched wide, a kill zone if anything stirred, but the silence held, broken only by the faint crunch of dust underfoot. They reached the door, a slab of alloy wedged ajar, dust piled against its base like a gray tide and its surface pitted with age. Wade nudged it with his boot. It creaked faintly, revealing a sliver of dimness within. The air wafted out—stale, dry, with a hint of metal, but no rot, no death-stink to gag them.
“Stale, not foul,” Wade said, peering inside. “Lights are low—our eyes’ll adjust. Let’s move in, stay tight.”
They slipped through, the half-open door scraping the floor as they passed. The interior unfolded in shadows—desks overturned in a jagged arc, forming a makeshift barricade. Skravak skeletons sprawled across the floor, limbs twisted. Beyond the desks, human remains lay in tatters—military fatigues shredded, bones gouged and splintered. Kristen’s breath caught as she traced the scene, her mind piecing it together.
“Fighting position,” she said, nodding at the desks. “They held here—humans, soldiers. The Skravak broke through and tore ‘em apart. There’s no decay smell—means it’s old, real old.”
Jay’s eyes darted past the carnage, landing on a ladder bolted to the far wall, its rungs leading to a hatch in the ceiling. “Roof access,” he said, a spark of his usual energy cutting through the gloom. “That’s our shot at the comm array—up close, no guessing. We need to see it, kill it if we can.”
Wade’s gaze followed, then swept the room again, assessing. “Good call,” he said, decisive. “But we don’t split wide—two up, two down. Jay, you and me hold security here. Kris, Mayumi, take the roof. Keep your eyes sharp, report everything.”
Kristen gave him a quick nod, her hand brushing his arm—a flicker of trust—before she headed for the ladder, Mayumi close behind. The rungs creaked under their weight, but held, and they pushed the hatch open with a groan. Cold air rushed down as they emerged onto the roof, the comm array sprawling before them—six dishes, each twentyfive feet across, their surfaces dulled by decades of neglect. The main reflector gleamed faintly, frozen mid-shift, its mechanical hum a low pulse in the stillness.
Mayumi knelt beside the nearest dish, her scanner sweeping its base. “Six-inch cable,” she said, tracing a thick line from the dish’s control link to a central feed. “Runs to the hub—twist-lock connector, simple design. Unplug it here, it’s death to the system.”
Kristen crouched beside her, testing the cable’s fit with a firm twist. It resisted, then gave with a soft click, the dish’s hum fading to silence. “Old tech, but smart,” she said, her voice low. “One down—five to go. If this cuts the cycle, we’ve got control.”
They moved methodically, dish to dish, unplugging each cable with a practiced turn. The roof grew quieter with every disconnection, the mechanical heartbeat slowing to a stop. Mayumi paused at the last one, her sharp eyes meeting Kristen’s. “No signal before, no power now,” she said. “If it was talking to something, it’s mute—unless there’s a backup we can’t see.”
“Better than guessing,” Kristen replied, straightening. “Let’s tell the boys.”
They descended the ladder, dust motes swirling in their wake, and found Wade and Jay still posted—Wade near the door, pistol ready, Jay scanning the room’s shadows. Kristen stepped off the rungs, her voice cutting the quiet. “Array’s down,” she said. “Six cables, all unplugged—simple twist-locks at the base. No hum, no motion. It’s a corpse now.”
Wade’s shoulders eased a fraction, though his grip on the pistol didn’t slacken. “Good work,” he said, his tone warm but firm. “No backup buzz?”
“None we caught,” Mayumi said, joining them. “Scanner’s clean—could be deeper systems, but the dishes are offline. Step one’s done.”
Jay grinned, a flicker of relief breaking his tension. “One less thing twitching out there,” he said. “Now what—dig in here, or haul something back?”
Wade’s eyes lingered on the human skeletons, then flicked to the hatch. “We’ve cut the voice,” he said. “Next, we find its brain. Let’s look for the hub—something we can move. Answers don’t stay here—they come with us.”
The crew tightened their formation, the silenced array above a small victory in the vast unknown. The room’s grim history pressed close, but they’d taken the first swing—and landed it.
They pressed into the hall in the rear of the facility. The crew feeling a silence so thick it pressed against their ears—no clatter, no hum, just the faint echo of their own steps. The hall emptied into a sprawling maintenance bay, its high ceiling lost in shadow, where stillness clung like damp rot. Vehicles gouged with claw marks, their tires dry-rotted and rims on the floor. But the real story lay in the fallen. A soldier’s skeleton slumped over the hood of an ATV, helmet cracked. Nearby, a mechanic in shredded coveralls clutched a wrench, skull caved in, his other hand frozen on a pulse rifle with a drained cell. Skravak skeletons sprawled in heaps, spines arched, claws sunk into the floor as if halted mid-lunge. A toppled tool cart spilled wrenches and bolts, glinting dully beside a scientist’s corpse—her white coat splayed like wings, a data slate clutched to her chest, its screen black and shattered. The air hung heavy, unstirred for decades, the silence screaming of a stand that ended in slaughter.
Log Retrieval
The facility’s corridors stretched before the crew like the veins of some ancient beast, dim and silent under flickering emergency lights. Wade took point, his pulse pistol a steady extension of his arm, its faint hum a lifeline in the gloom. Kristen flanked him, bow at the ready but more relaxed, while Mayumi and Jay followed, her scanner buzzing softly and his eyes darting to every shadow. The air hung heavy—stale, metallic, tinged with the dust of decades—but the absence of decay kept their nerves on edge. Two days of recon had brought them here, but the sprawling lab complex defied quick answers.
“Too big,” Wade muttered, pausing at a junction where three halls branched off, each lined with sealed doors. “Weeks to clear this place—months, maybe. No power, no shortcuts. We’re picking needles from a haystack.”
Kristen peered into the nearest room through a cracked viewport—test tubes glinted faintly, flanked by cages sized for Skravak and smaller Earth creatures, their bars rusted but intact, starved carcusses inside. “Bioengineering,” she said, her voice low, analytical. “Look at this—vats, gene-splicers, the works. They were cooking something here, and not just Skravak mods.”
Jay nudged open another door with his boot, revealing a chamber of synthetic printers and half-assembled machinery—sleek, but dated. “Synth lab,” he said, a wry edge to his tone. “Military-grade, too—those are pulse-rifle casings, old patterns. Century behind what we’ve seen on Skravak ships, but still nasty in its day.”
Mayumi’s scanner swept the room, its faint glow casting her face in sharp relief. “Don’t touch anything,” she said, her voice cutting through the quiet with a technician’s precision. “Last time we poked Skravak AI, it woke up—self-protect mode, locked us out, nearly killed us. This place might be dormant, but it’s not dead. One wrong move, and we’re lit up for anything listening.”
Wade nodded, his jaw tight as they pressed deeper. The halls gave way to more grim tableaux—soldiers in tattered fatigues, skeletons slumped against walls, rifles still clutched in bony hands. Scientists and lab techs lay scattered, white coats stained with long-dried blood, while Skravak remains sprawled among them, claws frozen mid-strike. The story was clear: a massacre, sudden and brutal, locked in time.
“Plenty of hardware,” Wade said, eyeing a soldier’s rifle—a heavy, blocky design, its barrel pitted with age. “We could grab one and boost our firepower. We’re thin as it is.”
Jay snorted, crouching beside a fallen trooper to inspect the weapon. “Pass,” he said, shaking his head. “These relics are a hundred years past their prime—barrels corroded, power cells probably brittle. Pull the trigger, and it’s as likely to blow your head off as fire straight.”
Kristen paused at a desk, her fingers hovering over a foil-wrapped bar—its faded label proclaiming it a candy ration, a century old. She smirked faintly, then pulled back. “Tempting,” she said, “but I’m not that desperate. Focus—logs are the prize. We need what this place knew, not its snacks.”
“Logs mean comms,” Mayumi said, her sharp eyes already roving ahead. “Central server’s our bet—something tied to that array. If there’s a brain here, it’s got the memory.” She led them on, her scanner guiding the way through a maze of labs and death until they reached a reinforced door, its panel dark but intact.
Inside, the communication room was deathly silent—no power, but the promise of secrets. Consoles lined the walls, screens blank, while a squat, rectangular unit sat at the center—thirty centimeters long, twenty wide, fifteen deep, its matte-gray casing scuffed and etched with a faded serial code. Mayumi knelt beside it, her scanner confirming its purpose. “Comm hub,” she said, her voice steady but edged with excitement. “Shoebox-sized, but heavy—encrypted drives inside, I’d bet my life on it. This is the log keeper.”
Wade crouched beside her, his gaze tracing the device’s ports. “No lights or juice running,” he said. “Is it safe to pull?”
“Safe as we can make it,” Mayumi replied, her fingers tracing a bundle of cables to their connection points. “No live circuits—its dormant but not dead. We can take it whole, crack it back at camp. No risks here.”
Kristen and Jay kept watch as Mayumi worked, her hands deft and methodical, unplugging the hub with a soft click. She hefted it—compact, but dense with potential—and tucked it under her arm. “Got it,” she said. “Treasure and threat in one. Let’s move.”
Hub’s Whisper
The march back to camp was tense and silent, with the hub resting quietly in Mayumi’s firm grasp. The skeletal circle loomed behind them as they crossed the ten-meter gap, probes still dormant. As they wearily strowed into camp, the cabin’s log walls greeted them like a fortress. Inside, they cleared the table, rigging salvaged scout ship gear—auxiliary batteries and a cracked display—around the hub. Mayumi connected the final lead, her hands steady despite the stakes.
“Moment of truth,” she said, her voice low, meeting each pair of eyes—Kristen’s resolve, Jay’s restless spark, Wade’s quiet confidence. “This thing’s a century old, but it’s got a story. Logs’ll tell us what slaughtered this place—and maybe what’s coming for us.”
She powered the setup, the display flickering to life with a faint whine. Lines of encrypted text scrolled briefly, unreadable yet tantalizing. “It’s intact,” she said, a rare grin tugging her lips. “Data’s here—locked, but I’ll break it. I’ll start with the last entry and work my way back. This is what I get paid the big bucks for.” The team laughed nervously.
Jay leaned in, anticipation crackling off him. “A window to what—salvation or a bigger mess?”
“Both, maybe,” Kristen said, “Whatever’s in there, it’s ours now. We’ll figure it out together.”
The hub hummed quietly, its secrets poised to spill, and the crew braced for the unraveling—a dark history, an AI’s betrayal, and threats that might stretch beyond this moon. The logs would speak soon, and they’d listen, ready or not.
Zechariah 14:9 states, “And the LORD will be king over all the earth; in that day the LORD will be the only one, and His name the only one.” This passage encapsulates a pivotal eschatological vision where the LORD’s sovereignty is universally acknowledged. This essay explores the concept of the LORD’s rulership, focusing on “LORD” and its implications for Jesus Christ, emphasizing that His lordship is not merely a future reality but profoundly present in this age, though not yet in its ultimate form.
Etymology and Linguistic Analysis
In Zechariah 14:9, “LORD” translates from the Hebrew YHWH (Strong’s H3068), often pronounced as “Yahweh” (YAH-way), symbolizing God’s eternal and self-existent nature. In the New Testament, this translates to Kyrios (Strong’s G2962) when referring to Jesus, affirming His divine identity and authority (Philippians 2:11). This linguistic connection underscores that the God of the Old Testament is the same as Jesus in the New Testament, highlighting continuity in divine sovereignty.
Theological Significance
The proclamation of YHWH as king over all the earth in Zechariah signifies not only a future hope but also a present reality through Jesus Christ. His lordship is active in this age, influencing the lives of believers through the Holy Spirit and the Church’s mission. This dual aspect of Christ’s reign – present and future – is central to Christian theology, where He is already reigning in the hearts of His followers, even as we await the full manifestation of His kingdom.
Christological Fulfillment
Jesus, recognized as Kyrios, embodies this kingship in both His earthly ministry and His ongoing spiritual presence. Scriptures like Matthew 28:18, where Jesus declares, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me,” affirm His current lordship. His life, death, and resurrection are seen as the inauguration of God’s kingdom on earth, a kingdom that continues to grow and exert influence through the Church.
Implications for Understanding the Kingdom of God
This understanding of Christ’s lordship reveals:
Immediate Applicability: The kingdom’s principles are to be lived out now; justice, love, and peace are to be enacted in the present through His followers individually and corporately as the Church.
Divine Attributes: Christ’s current reign showcases His attributes like wisdom, power, and mercy, which believers are to emulate.
Redemption: His lordship in this age is part of the ongoing redemptive work, transforming individuals and societies.
Transformative Power for Believers
For believers, recognizing Jesus’ lordship in the present:
Guides Daily Living: It shapes ethical decisions, community life, and personal holiness, reflecting the kingdom’s values.
Inspires Mission: The Church is called to proclaim this lordship, making disciples and extending Christ’s reign through love and service.
Provides Hope: Even as we await the ultimate fulfillment, the current reality of Christ’s lordship offers comfort and direction.
Conclusion
The rule and reign of God is manifested through the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit throughout all ages and is past, present, and future (Although not fully exhibited until the end). The lordship of Jesus Christ, as prophesied in Zechariah 14:9, is both a future expectation and a present reality. Through His resurrection, Jesus has already begun His reign, offering a foretaste of the kingdom to come. This dual reality – present yet not fully consummated – informs Christian life, worship, and mission, urging believers to live under His lordship now while anticipating its full revelation in the age to come. Thus, Christ’s kingship bridges the temporal with the eternal, grounding our faith in both the now and the not yet.
Disciple-maker’s Short Story
Flight of Faith
Anne stared out the plane window, the clouds beneath them like a vast canvas being painted by the setting sun. The half-empty cabin hummed with white noise as passengers dozed or worked quietly on laptops.
“I can’t stop thinking about that conversation on our last flight,” Anne said, turning to her mother Mary beside her.
Mary looked up from her Bible. “With the engineering student? James, was it?”
“Yes.” Anne’s voice carried both conviction and concern. “I shared my testimony, told him about God’s love, but I feel like I missed something essential.”
Mary studied her daughter’s troubled expression. “What do you think you missed?”
“I talked about how Jesus loves us and died for us,” Anne said, her fingers tracing the outline of her own Bible in her lap. “But I never clearly explained what the gospel actually demands of us.”
The plane hit a patch of turbulence, causing a momentary tremor through the cabin. The pilot’s calm voice announced they’d be experiencing some “light chop” for the next few minutes.
“You know,” Mary said thoughtfully, “Jesus began His entire ministry with specific words: ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ He didn’t start with ‘God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life.'”
Anne nodded slowly. “Repentance. I didn’t really emphasize that part.”
“It’s become unfashionable,” Mary said. “We want to present a Jesus who only comforts and never confronts. But that’s not the Jesus of Scripture.”
A flight attendant passed by, offering drinks. Both women asked for tea.
“Paul said he declared the whole counsel of God,” Mary continued, turning pages in her Bible until she found Acts 20. “He proclaimed ‘repentance toward God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.’ Both elements are essential.”
Anne leaned back in her seat. “So the gospel isn’t just that Jesus died for our sins?”
“That’s central, absolutely. ‘Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, was buried, and rose again the third day,'” Mary quoted from memory. “But the proper response to that message includes both receiving Him as Savior who forgives and submitting to Him as Lord who commands.”
Outside, the sky was darkening. Anne thought about the discipleship conference they were flying to attend, how much she still had to learn.
“I think I’ve been afraid,” she admitted quietly. “Afraid that if I tell people they need to repent—to turn from sin and submit to Christ as King—they’ll reject the message. It’s easier to just talk about God’s love.”
Mary reached for her daughter’s hand. “The message we’re called to proclaim isn’t primarily about making people comfortable. It’s about calling them to a completely new life under a new King.”
The cabin lights dimmed as several passengers prepared for sleep. In the subtle glow, Anne opened her own Bible to Matthew’s gospel.
“‘From that time Jesus began to preach, saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand,”‘” she read aloud softly. “Kingdom. Lordship. Not just forgiveness, but a whole new allegiance.”
Mary smiled. “That’s why Jesus told us to make disciples, not just converts. He calls people to ‘deny themselves, take up their cross daily, and follow Me.’ The gospel is an announcement that the rightful King has come and calls all people everywhere to surrender to His rule.”
Anne sat quietly for a moment, conviction growing. “I need to be clearer next time. The gospel isn’t just that Jesus died for our sins—though He did, praise God. It’s that through His death and resurrection, He’s established His kingdom and calls everyone to turn from sin and self-rule to follow Him as Lord.”
“That’s right,” Mary affirmed. “And that message requires words—clear, bold proclamation. Our kindness might adorn the gospel, but it can never replace speaking the actual message.”
As the plane continued through the night sky, Anne felt a renewed sense of purpose. The conference awaiting them wasn’t just about strategy or technique—it was about faithfulness to the King’s commission. Next time she had an opportunity to share her faith, she would speak of both the grace of the Savior and the claims of the Lord, calling for the repentance Jesus Himself demanded.
The gospel was good news, but it was also royal news—the announcement of a Kingdom that would never end, under a King who deserved nothing less than complete allegiance.
If anyone is ashamed of Me and My words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will also be ashamed of him when He comes in His glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels.” For the Son of Man will come in His Father’s glory with His angels, and then He will repay each one according to what he has done. Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in His kingdom, the kingdom of God arriving with power.”
My Thoughts
What does this look like? I mean “being ashamed of Jesus and His Word?” Let me give a few examples;
When we feel embarrassed or humiliated by association with Jesus, His Word, or His people.
We might cringe inwardly or feel a knot in our stomach when Jesus or His ways are mentioned.
We blush, avoid eye contact, or our shoulders tense and rear back when someone is sharing the gospel in public.
We turn away or fidget nervously when our King is mentioned in a derogatory way instead of taking a stand for Him.
We hesitate to talk about Him, His ways, or His people, deflecting questions, or speaking in hushed or apologetic tones.
Actively steering clear of conversations where Jesus is mentioned or highlighted by others at work, school, or where we play. Everywhere but in a church building where it is “socially acceptable.”
Shame is often tied to a fear of judgment, so these behaviors aim to protect our own image or avoid scrutiny.
Far from shame, we experience the opposite when delighted with our King, His Word, and His people:
We feel a sense of joy, enthusiasm, or a sense of uplifting when speaking about or being linked to Jesus, His Word, and His people.
A bright smile, direct eye contact, or a glowing, open expression when discussing or presenting Jesus.
Pleasant posture, leaning forward, or animated gestures.
You might stand close to a brother or sister or display your Bible prominently.
We are eager to talk about God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, praising their qualities, or sharing our testimony with confidence and excitement with no hesitation or apology in our tone.
We just actively share the gospel with people (Family, Friends, Associates, and Strangers).
I have found that being proud of God and using the names of the Triune God is a crucial part of discipleship. People need to be taught to swim against the current of this world. Jesus calls it a “adulterous and sinful generation.” Being proud of God in speech and action in this world takes training, conviction, courage, and commitment. It also helps if the young (or old) disciple is amongst like-hearted courageous brothers and sisters.
Thus says the LORD, “Let not a wise man boast of his wisdom, and let not the mighty man boast of his might, let not a rich man boast of his riches; but let him who boasts boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am the LORD who exercises lovingkindness, justice and righteousness on earth; for I delight in these things,” declares the LORD.
(Jeremiah 9:23-24)
For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.
(Romans 1:16)
My Story
When Deb and I train disciples to share Jesus with others, we dedicate about an hour to teaching them how to craft a 1-2 minute testimony with the gospel at its heart. It’s straightforward, but the real challenge comes next: we take them out to share that testimony with strangers. You might wonder, “How effective is this? How many people come to Christ?” Honestly, not many. More people find faith through relationships within their personal networks. But sharing with strangers builds confidence, sharpens skills, and deepens conviction for when they talk to family, friends, or colleagues. And it does something else equally vital.
I liken our evangelism training to the U.S. Army’s Paratrooper school—a grueling three-week program that tests soldiers physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. At the end, they parachute from a perfectly good aircraft five times. The Army trains 12,000 to 14,000 paratroopers annually, spending roughly $20,000 per soldier. That’s a pretty big chunk of change. Yet most of these paratroopers will never jump again in their careers.
When was the last large-scale U.S. airborne assault? March 26, 2003, during Operation Iraqi Freedom, when about 950 paratroopers from the 173rd Airborne Brigade dropped into Bashur Airfield in northern Iraq to secure it. Smaller Special Operations jumps have occurred in Vietnam, Panama, Grenada, and Afghanistan, but nothing rivals the massive WWII operations like Overlord, Market Garden, or Varsity, which involved over 70,000 paratroopers.
So why does the Army invest so much in a seemingly outdated combat delivery system? One word: courage. The training forges this quality in soldiers, making the cost and effort worthwhile. When Deb and I lead people to share the gospel, we’re doing the same—cultivating courage in Jesus’ disciples. A disciple bold enough to proclaim the gospel is unlikely to ever feel ashamed of Him.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Reflect on the list provided about feeling ashamed or unashamed of Jesus or His Word. Are there any points that resonate with you personally?
Guide those you’re discipling to practice sharing the gospel regularly, helping them build the confidence to share their faith in Jesus consistently.
Ask yourself and those you mentor: “How frequently do we talk about Jesus outside of our church gatherings?”
Let’s hold fast to our faith and share Jesus with bold hearts wherever life takes us. With courage and love, we’ll carry His light into the world, unashamed and unafraid.
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver qué les sucede a quienes se avergüenzan de Jesús y/o de su Palabra.
Comencemos.
Mateo 16:27-28, Marcos 8:38-9:1, Lucas 9:26-27
Si alguien se avergüenza de mí y de mis palabras en esta generación adúltera y pecadora, el Hijo del Hombre también se avergonzará de él cuando venga en su gloria, en la gloria del Padre y de los santos ángeles. Porque el Hijo del Hombre vendrá en la gloria de su Padre con sus ángeles, y entonces recompensará a cada uno conforme a sus obras. De cierto os digo que algunos de los que están aquí no probarán la muerte sin antes ver al Hijo del Hombre viniendo en su reino, el reino de Dios llegando con poder.
Mis Pensamientos
¿Cómo se manifiesta esto? Me refiero a “¿avergonzarse de Jesús y su Palabra?”. Les daré algunos ejemplos:
Cuando nos sentimos avergonzados o humillados por la asociación con Jesús, su Palabra o su pueblo.
Puede que nos encogamos interiormente o sintamos un nudo en el estómago cuando se menciona a Jesús o sus caminos.
Nos sonrojamos, evitamos el contacto visual o tensamos los hombros y nos encogemos cuando alguien comparte el evangelio en público.
Nos alejamos o nos inquietamos cuando se menciona a nuestro Rey de forma despectiva en lugar de defenderlo.
Dudamos en hablar de Él, sus caminos o su pueblo, evadiendo preguntas o hablando en voz baja o como disculpándose.
Evitamos activamente las conversaciones donde otros mencionan o destacan a Jesús en el trabajo, la escuela o donde nos divertimos. En todas partes, excepto en una iglesia, donde es “socialmente aceptable”.
La vergüenza suele estar ligada al miedo al juicio, por lo que estos comportamientos buscan proteger nuestra propia imagen o evitar el escrutinio. Lejos de la vergüenza, experimentamos lo contrario cuando nos deleitamos con nuestro Rey, Su Palabra y Su pueblo:
Sentimos alegría, entusiasmo o una sensación de aliento al hablar de Jesús, Su Palabra y Su pueblo, o al conectar con ellos.
Una sonrisa radiante, contacto visual directo o una expresión radiante y abierta al hablar o presentar a Jesús.
Una postura agradable, inclinarse hacia adelante o gestos animados.
Puedes pararte cerca de un hermano o hermana o mostrar tu Biblia en un lugar visible.
Anhelamos hablar de Dios Padre, Hijo y Espíritu Santo, alabando sus cualidades o compartiendo nuestro testimonio con confianza y entusiasmo, sin vacilación ni disculpa en nuestro tono.
Simplemente compartimos activamente el evangelio con las personas (familiares, amigos, conocidos y desconocidos).
He descubierto que estar orgulloso de Dios y usar el nombre del Dios Trino es una parte crucial del discipulado. Es necesario enseñar a las personas a nadar contra la corriente de este mundo. Jesús lo llama una “generación adúltera y pecadora”. Estar orgulloso de Dios en palabras y acciones en este mundo requiere entrenamiento, convicción, valentía y compromiso. También ayuda si el discípulo, joven o mayor, se encuentra entre hermanos y hermanas valientes con el mismo corazón.
Así dice el SEÑOR: «Que el sabio no se jacte de su sabiduría, ni el poderoso se jacte de su poderío, ni el rico se jacte de sus riquezas. Pero el que se jacte, que se jacte de esto: de entenderme y conocerme, que yo soy el SEÑOR, que hago misericordia, juicio y justicia en la tierra; porque en estas cosas me deleito», declara el SEÑOR.
(Jeremías 9:23-24)
Porque no me avergüenzo del evangelio, porque es poder de Dios para salvación a todo el que cree, al judío primeramente y también al griego.
(Romanos 1:16)
Mi Historia
Cuando Deb y yo capacitamos a otros para compartir a Jesús, dedicamos aproximadamente una hora a enseñarles a elaborar un testimonio de uno o dos minutos centrado en el evangelio. Es sencillo, pero el verdadero desafío viene después: los invitamos a compartir ese testimonio con desconocidos. Quizás se pregunten: “¿Qué tan efectivo es esto? ¿Cuántas personas llegan a Cristo?”. Sinceramente, no muchas. Más personas encuentran la fe a través de las relaciones dentro de sus redes personales. Pero compartir con desconocidos fortalece la confianza, agudiza las habilidades y profundiza la convicción para cuando hablan con familiares, amigos o colegas. Y tiene un efecto igualmente vital.
Comparo nuestro entrenamiento de evangelización con la escuela de paracaidistas del Ejército de los Estados Unidos: un agotador programa de tres semanas que pone a prueba a los soldados física, mental, emocional e incluso espiritualmente. Al final, se lanzan en paracaídas desde un avión en perfecto estado cinco veces. El Ejército entrena entre 12.000 y 14.000 paracaidistas al año, con un gasto aproximado de 20.000 dólares por soldado. Es una suma considerable. Sin embargo, la mayoría de estos paracaidistas nunca volverán a saltar en sus carreras.
¿Cuándo fue el último asalto aéreo estadounidense a gran escala? El 26 de marzo de 2003, durante la Operación Libertad Iraquí, cuando unos 950 paracaidistas de la 173.ª Brigada Aerotransportada desembarcaron en el aeródromo de Bashur, en el norte de Irak, para asegurarlo. Se han realizado saltos de Operaciones Especiales más pequeños en Vietnam, Panamá, Granada y Afganistán, pero nada se compara con las operaciones masivas de la Segunda Guerra Mundial como Overlord, Market Garden o Varsity, que involucraron a más de 70.000 paracaidistas.
Entonces, ¿por qué el Ejército invierte tanto en un sistema de lanzamiento de combate aparentemente anticuado? En una palabra: valentía. El entrenamiento forja esta cualidad en los soldados, haciendo que el costo y el esfuerzo valgan la pena. Cuando Deb y yo guiamos a la gente a compartir el evangelio, estamos haciendo lo mismo: cultivando la valentía en los discípulos de Jesús. Un discípulo lo suficientemente valiente como para proclamar el evangelio probablemente nunca se avergüence de Él.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicarlo. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
Reflexiona sobre la lista proporcionada sobre sentirte o no avergonzado del evangelio. ¿Hay algún punto que te resuene personalmente?
Guía a quienes estás discipulando a practicar compartir el evangelio con regularidad, ayudándolos a desarrollar la confianza para compartir su fe en Jesús constantemente.
Pregúntate a ti mismo y a quienes mentoreas: “¿Con qué frecuencia hablamos de Jesús fuera de las reuniones de la iglesia?”.
Mantengámonos firmes en nuestra fe y compartamos a Jesús con corazones valientes dondequiera que la vida nos lleve. Con valentía y amor, llevaremos su luz al mundo, sin vergüenza ni miedo.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
ToBeLikeJesus 