HEROD’S FATE

HEROD’S FATE

Acts 12:20-24 NET.

²⁰Now Herod was having an angry quarrel with the people of Tyre and Sidon. So, they joined together and presented themselves before him. And after convincing Blastus, the king’s personal assistant, to help them, they asked for peace, because their country’s food supply was provided by the king’s country. ²¹On a day determined in advance, Herod put on his royal robes, sat down on the judgment seat, and made a speech to them. ²²But the crowd began to shout, “The voice of a god, and not of a man!” ²³Immediately, an angel of the Lord struck Herod down because he did not give the glory to God, and he was eaten by worms and died. ²⁴But the word of God kept on increasing and multiplying.

There is an old story about a vain emperor who hires tailors who promise him magical clothes visible only to the wise. Not wanting to seem foolish, everyone pretends to see them. He parades through the city in nothing at all until a child blurts out the truth, exposing the deception for all to see.

There are also moments in Scripture when God pulls back the curtain and lets us see the true danger of living for human approval. One of the clearest examples is found in this story about Herod Agrippa in Acts 12. It is a story about power, pride, and the seductive pull of flattery. But more than that, it is a story about the God who refuses to share His glory with anyone, and who calls His people to anchor their identity in His truth rather than in the applause of others.

I. Herod Embraces Flattery Instead of Truth

The people of Tyre and Sidon understood the political landscape of their day. Their cities depended on Judea for food, and Herod controlled the supply lines. They had offended him somehow—Scripture doesn’t tell us how—but they knew their survival depended on regaining his favor. So when Herod scheduled a public address, they came prepared. They came rehearsed. They came determined to flatter him into good graces. Their goal was not the truth. Their goal was survival. And in their minds, survival required praise.

Herod entered the amphitheater wearing a robe woven with silver threads that caught the morning sun. Josephus tells us the garment shimmered so brightly that the crowd gasped. And as Herod began to speak, the people erupted with carefully crafted adoration. They shouted that his voice was not the voice of a man but of a god. They lifted him to a place no human being should ever occupy. And Herod, instead of recoiling in horror, instead of tearing his garments as any faithful Jew would have done, instead of redirecting the glory to the One who alone deserves it, soaked in the applause. He drank it like a man dying of thirst. He let their flattery settle into his bones. He let their praise become his identity.

This moment was not an isolated event. It was the culmination of a long pattern in Herod’s life. He had already executed James, one of the apostles, simply because it pleased the crowds. He had arrested Peter for the same reason. He governed by popularity. He made decisions based on applause. He shaped his morality around the expectations of others. He lived for approval, and he was willing to silence the gospel to get it. Herod’s entire political strategy was built on the fragile foundation of human praise.

But God’s patience with Herod’s self‑exaltation had reached its limit. Scripture describes it with striking simplicity: “Immediately an angel of the Lord struck him down, because he did not give God the glory.” The man who lived for applause died under judgment. The man who craved approval received a verdict instead. The man who silenced the gospel was silenced by God.

Herod could have saved his own life that day. All he had to do was deflect the praise. All he had to do was say, “I am only a man.” All he had to do was acknowledge the truth. But truth was the one thing he refused to embrace. He preferred the illusion of greatness over the reality of humility. He preferred the admiration of people over the approval of God. And in the end, the flattery he loved became the instrument of his downfall.

II. Flattery Is a Universal Temptation That Distorts Faithfulness.

The tragedy of Herod is not merely that he died. The tragedy is that he wasted his life chasing the wrong voice. He listened to the crowd instead of the Lord. He shaped his identity around the praise of people instead of the truth of God. He allowed the applause of others to drown out the call to repentance. He let flattery become fatal.

And if we are honest, Herod’s temptation is not as distant from us as we might like to think. Most of us will never sit on a throne or wear a silver robe or hear a crowd shout our name. But we all know what it feels like to crave approval. We all know the subtle pull of wanting to be admired, respected, affirmed, or celebrated. We all know the temptation to shape our words, our decisions, and even our convictions around what will make people like us. We all know the quiet fear of losing status, influence, or acceptance.

Flattery is not always loud. Sometimes it is gentle praise that makes us feel indispensable. Sometimes it is the admiration that feeds our ego. Sometimes it is the subtle affirmation that tempts us to believe we are more important than we really are. Sometimes it is the approval that makes us compromise truth, so we can keep the applause coming. Flattery is dangerous not because it feels bad, but because it feels so good.

The inhabitants of Tyre and Sidon used flattery as a tool for survival. Herod used it as a drug for his ego. But God calls His people to something far better. He calls us to live by His truth, not by the praise of others. He calls us to anchor our identity in His voice, not in the shifting opinions of the crowd. He calls us to humility, not self‑exaltation. He calls us to obedience, not popularity.

III. God Calls Us to Anchor Our Identity in His Voice Alone.

The gospel frees us from the tyranny of human approval. When we know that God has already accepted us in Christ, we no longer need to chase acceptance from others. When we know that God delights in us as His children, we no longer need to earn delight from the world. When we know that God’s verdict over our lives is “beloved,” we no longer need to manipulate people into giving us a verdict of “important.” The gospel gives us a new identity that cannot be inflated by praise or deflated by criticism.

But this freedom requires vigilance. It requires the courage to resist the subtle pull of flattery. It requires discipline to examine our motives. It requires the humility to acknowledge when we are being shaped by the opinions of others more than by the truth of God. It requires the willingness to disappoint people when obedience demands it. It requires the strength to say, “I am not here to be admired; I am here to be faithful.”

Herod’s story stands as a warning to all who are tempted to build their lives on the unstable foundation of human praise. The applause of the crowd is fickle. The admiration of others is temporary. The approval of people is fragile. But the truth of God endures. His word stands firm. His verdict is eternal. His glory is unmatched. And His call to us is clear: follow Me, not the crowd.

When we choose truth over flattery, we choose life. When we choose obedience over applause, we choose freedom. When we choose humility over self‑exaltation, we choose the path that leads to joy. When we choose God’s voice over the voices around us, we choose the only voice that can anchor our souls.

Herod’s last speech was his most important, not because of what he said, but because of what he failed to say. He failed to give God the glory. He failed to acknowledge the truth. He failed to humble himself. And in that failure, he lost everything.

May we learn from his story. May we refuse to let the praise of others shape our identity. May we resist the temptation to build our lives around the approval of people. May we anchor ourselves in the truth of God’s word. May we cultivate the humility that deflects praise and gives glory to God. May we be more interested in following God’s voice than in hearing the applause of the crowd.

Lord, deliver us from the seduction of flattery. Guard our hearts from the desire to be admired. Teach us to love Your truth more than we love the approval of others. Make us faithful, humble, and steady. And when the voices around us grow loud, help us to listen for Yours alone.

A GOOD WORK

A GOOD WORK

1 Timothy 3:1-13 LSB

¹ It is a trustworthy saying: if any man aspires to the office of overseer, he desires a good work. ²An overseer, then, must be above reproach, the husband of one wife, temperate, sensible, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, ³not addicted to wine or pugnacious, but considerate, peaceable, free from the love of money; ⁴leading his own household well, having his children in submission with all dignity ⁵(but if a man does not know how to lead his own household, how will he take care of the church of God?), ⁶and not a new convert, so that he will not become conceited and fall into the condemnation of the devil. ⁷And he must have a good reputation with those outside the church, so that he will not fall into reproach and the snare of the devil. ⁸Deacons likewise must be dignified, not double-tongued, not indulging in much wine, not fond of dishonest gain, ⁹but holding to the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience. ¹⁰And these men must also first be tested; then let them serve as deacons if they are beyond reproach. ¹¹Women must likewise be dignified, not malicious gossips, but temperate, faithful in all things. ¹²Deacons must be husbands of only one wife, leading their children and their own households well. ¹³For those who have served well as deacons obtain for themselves a high standing and great boldness in the faith that is in Christ Jesus.

There are few passages in the New Testament more vital for the health of Christ’s church than 1 Timothy 3. Paul writes to Timothy, a young missionary laboring in the difficult environment of Ephesus, and he tells him plainly: the church of the living God must be led by people whose lives reflect the character of Christ. The gospel is glorious, the church is precious, and therefore the people who lead and serve must be shaped by the gospel they proclaim.

This passage is not merely a list of qualifications. It is a portrait of Christlike character. It is a window into the heart of God for His church. And it is a reminder that leadership in the church is not about talent, charisma, or personality, it is about holiness, humility, and faithfulness.

Today we will walk through this text in three movements:

Christ’s church requires Christlike leaders.
Overseers must be above reproach in life and home.
Deacons must be tested as servants of proven character.

And as we do, I want you to see not only what God requires of leaders, but what God desires for His people. These qualities are not reserved for a select few. They are the fruit of the Spirit in every believer. They are the aroma of Christ in the household of God.

I. Christ’s Church Requires Christlike Leaders (3:1)

When we talk about church offices, we need to keep in mind that Jesus taught his disciples not to rule like the world rules. Church offices are functions of service, not steps in a ladder of leadership. The two offices mentioned by Paul in this chapter are ways of serving Christ and his church. They are not two stages in a hierarchy.

Paul says that if anyone aspires to the office of overseer, it is a good work. Notice the emphasis: it is a work. Not a title. Not a platform. Not a position of prestige. It is labor. It is service. It is shepherding souls, guarding doctrine, teaching truth, and caring for the flock.

The aspiration itself is not condemned. In fact, Paul sees it as noble. But it is noble only when the desire is shaped by Christlike motives. A person may desire leadership for many reasons—some holy, some sinful. But the work itself is good because it reflects the work of Christ, the Chief Shepherd, who laid down His life for the sheep.

This opening verse sets the tone for everything that follows. Paul is not giving Timothy a checklist for ambitious people to climb a spiritual ladder. He is describing the kind of person who can bear the weight of shepherding Christ’s people. He is describing a person whose life is already marked by the qualities of the gospel.

Application:
We must pray that God would raise up people who desire the work for the right reasons. People who love Christ more than applause. People who love the church more than comfort. People who desire to serve, not to be seen. And for those who feel the stirring of aspiration in their own hearts, this passage becomes a mirror. It asks: Do you desire the work, or do you desire the recognition? Do you want to be a shepherd, or do you want to be important?

II. Overseers Must Be Above Reproach in Life and Home (3:2–7)

Paul now turns to the qualifications for overseers—we usually call them pastors, and elders today. And he begins with the overarching requirement: “The overseer must be above reproach.” This does not mean sinless perfection. It means that his life is free from patterns of sin that would bring shame on the gospel or discredit the church. It means that accusations cannot stick because his character is consistent.

Everything that follows explains what “above reproach” looks like in practice.

A. Above Reproach in Personal Character (3:2–3)

Paul lists qualities that describe a man whose life is shaped by the Spirit.

The overseer must be faithful in marriage—literally a man must be “a one‑woman man.” A woman overseer must be a one-man woman. This speaks not only to marital fidelity but to purity of heart. His affections are not divided. Their eyes are not wandering. Their devotion is not compromised.

They must be temperate—clear‑minded, steady, not controlled by impulses or emotions. They must be prudent—self‑controlled, disciplined, thoughtful. They must be respectable—orderly, dignified, not chaotic or careless in life.

They must be hospitable. This is not merely having people over for dinner. It is a posture of openness. A willingness to welcome others into his life. A heart that reflects the welcome of Christ.

They must be able to teach. This is the one skill‑based qualification in the entire list. They must know the Word, love the Word, and handle the Word faithfully. They must be able to instruct, exhort, and refute errors.

Then Paul gives several negative qualifications. They must not be addicted to wine. They must not be violent or quarrelsome. They must not be greedy for money. Instead, they must be gentle—reflecting the heart of Christ, who described Himself as gentle and lowly.

Application:

The church must value character over charisma. We live in a world that prizes giftedness, personality, and platform. But God prizes holiness. A person may preach with eloquence, lead with confidence, and attract crowds with a strong personality—but if his or her character is compromised, he or she is unfit for the office. The church must look beyond the surface and examine the heart.

As we read 1 Timothy, we get the impression that Paul had Timothy only appoint male overseers. But from other writings of Paul, it was clear that Paul did not categorically exclude women from service in the church. Perhaps Ephesus was an exception where Paul felt it necessary because of its culture to start out with only male overseers. There is no reason for us to do so today. Whatever the practice was in Ephesus in the first century, the principle is that in Christ there is neither male nor female – gender does not matter (Galatians 3:28).

B. Above Reproach in the Home (3:4–5)

Paul now moves from personal character to family life. Overseers must manage their household well. Their children must be under control with dignity. Their home must reflect order, love, and godly leadership.

Why? Because the home is the proving ground for ministry. If people cannot shepherd their own family, how can they shepherd the family of God? If they cannot lead with wisdom, patience, and love in the most intimate relationships of life, they cannot lead the church.

This does not mean their children must be perfect. It means their leadership must be evident. Their home must not be marked by chaos, neglect, or hypocrisy.

Application:
Ministry begins at home. Leadership in the church cannot outrun leadership in the family. The first congregation is the spouse and children. The first pulpit is his dinner table. The first pastoral responsibility is to love, lead, and nurture those under one’s own roof.

C. Above Reproach in Maturity and Reputation (3:6–7)

Paul adds two final qualifications.

First, they must not be new converts. Spiritual maturity takes time. A new believer may have zeal, passion, and giftedness—but lacks the tested character that comes from years of walking with Christ. A new convert placed in leadership is vulnerable to pride, and pride leads to spiritual collapse.

Second, they must have a good reputation with outsiders. Even unbelievers should recognize integrity in their life. They may reject their message, but they should not be able to accuse them of hypocrisy or dishonesty.

Application:
Spiritual maturity is measured in years of faithfulness, not moments of giftedness. And the world is watching. The church’s witness is strengthened or weakened by the character of its leaders. People who are careless with their reputation outside the church cannot be trusted to shepherd within the church.

III. Deacons Must Be Tested Servants of Proven Character (3:8–13)

Paul now turns to the second office in the church: deacons. The word means “servants.” Deacons are not overseers; they are ministers of mercy, stewards of practical needs, protectors of unity. But their character must also be exemplary.

A. Dignified in Speech, Conduct, and Doctrine (3:8–9)

Deacons must be dignified—worthy of respect. They must not be double‑tongued. Their speech must be consistent, truthful, and trustworthy. They must not be addicted to much wine. They must not be greedy for dishonest gain.

And they must hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience. They must not only understand sound doctrine—they must live it. Their lives must align with their confession.

Application:
Deacons must be dependable, steady, and doctrinally anchored. The church’s practical ministry depends on trustworthy servants who reflect the character of Christ in both word and deed.

B. Tested Before Entrusted (3:10)

Paul says deacons must first be tested. They must not be appointed because they volunteered or because they are popular. They must be observed over time. Their faithfulness must be evident. Their character must be proven.

Only then, if they are above reproach, may they serve.

Application:
Look for those who are already serving joyfully—then appoint them. Faithfulness in small things precedes responsibility in greater things. The church must not rush men into service. It must recognize those whom God has already prepared.

C. Women in Service Must Be Exemplary (3:11)

Paul includes a word about women—female deacons. Paul mentioned a female deacon in Romans 16, called Phoebe. Phoebe’s ministry in the New Testament was that of a highly respected, trusted, and influential servant of the early church. Paul commends her in Romans 16:1–2 as a διάκονος of the church in Cenchreae—someone recognized for her active, faithful ministry—and as a προστάτις, a patron who used her resources, influence, and protection to support many believers, including Paul himself. She was almost certainly the trusted carrier of the Letter to the Romans, a role that required spiritual maturity, reliability, and the ability to represent Paul’s teaching to the Roman congregation. Through her service, generosity, and partnership in the gospel, Phoebe stands as a model of Christlike devotion and a reminder that the early church depended on the faithful ministry of women as well as men.

Deaconesses (Paul says in 1 Timothy 3) must be dignified. They must not be slanderers. They must be temperate. They must be faithful in all things.

Application:
The character of those who serve in the church—men or women—must be marked by integrity. Ministry is not merely about tasks; it is about testimony.

D. Faithful in Family Life (3:12)

Like overseers, deacons must be faithful in marriage and faithful in the home. Their leadership in the church must flow from their leadership in their families.

E. The Reward of Faithful Service (3:13)

Paul ends with a word of encouragement. Those who serve well as deacons gain a good standing for themselves and great confidence in the faith. Faithful service strengthens assurance. It deepens joy. It enriches spiritual life.

Application:
God honors faithful, quiet, behind‑the‑scenes service. Deacons model Christ’s humility. They strengthen the church’s witness. And God delights to bless those who serve with integrity.

Conclusion: Christ Shapes His Church Through Christlike Leaders

This passage is not ultimately about qualifications—it is about Christ. He is the faithful Shepherd. He is the gentle Leader. He is the servant who came not to be served but to serve. And He is the One who forms His character in His people.

The church needs overseers who reflect Christ’s shepherding heart.
The church needs deacons who reflect Christ’s servant heart.
And the church needs members who pursue Christlike character in every sphere of life.

So let us pray for leaders who reflect Christ.
Let us encourage those who serve.
And let us aspire—not to positions—but to Christlike character.

For the glory of God.
For the good of the church.
And for the witness of the gospel in the world.

THE GOSPEL AS THE WORK OF CHRIST

THE GOSPEL AS THE WORK OF CHRIST

1 Corinthians 15:1–4

INTRODUCTION — THE GOSPEL IS NEWS, NOT DOCTRINE

Here are 20 definitions of the gospel, gleaned from various sources:

The gospel is the announcement that God has fulfilled His eternal plan through Jesus Christ, bringing salvation, reconciliation, and new creation to all who believe.
The gospel is the good news that Jesus, the promised Messiah, died for our sins, was buried, rose again on the third day, and now reigns as Lord over all.
The gospel is God’s declaration that sinners are justified freely by His grace through the redemption accomplished by Christ.
The gospel is the proclamation that through Jesus’ death and resurrection, God has defeated sin, death, and the powers of darkness.
The gospel is the message that God is restoring His world and His people through the crucified and risen Christ.
The gospel is the revelation that in Christ, Jew and Gentile alike have equal access to God and equal standing in His family.
The gospel is the invitation to repent, believe, and enter the kingdom of God under the gracious rule of Jesus.
The gospel is the announcement that eternal life — God’s own life — is now available through union with Christ.
The gospel is the unveiling of God’s love demonstrated in the self-giving sacrifice of His Son for the undeserving.
The gospel is the message that Jesus bore the penalty of sin so that we might receive the gift of righteousness.
The gospel is the proclamation that Jesus is Lord — the true King — and that His resurrection is the proof of His authority.
The gospel is the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets, revealing God’s faithfulness to His covenant promises.
The gospel is the power of God for salvation, transforming those who believe from the inside out by the Holy Spirit.
The gospel is the story of God’s rescue mission: the Father sending the Son, and the Son sending the Spirit, to redeem a people for His glory.
The gospel is the message that Christ’s resurrection is the firstfruits of the coming new creation and the future resurrection of all believers.
The gospel is the truth that God reconciles enemies to Himself through the blood of the cross, making peace where hostility once reigned.
The gospel is the announcement that forgiveness of sins is granted in Jesus’ name to all nations.
The gospel is the revelation that God has adopted believers as His children, giving them the Spirit who cries, “Abba, Father.”
The gospel is the proclamation that Jesus will return to judge the world in righteousness and to renew all things.
The gospel is the message that through Christ, God is making all things new — beginning with the human heart.

When I collected these definitions, I didn’t weed any out. These are the first 20 definitions I retrieved. What do all these definitions focus on? They all focus on what Jesus did for us.

Brothers and sisters, the gospel is not a set of instructions for how to live a better life. It is not a spiritual self‑help program. It is not a list of moral improvements we must perform to earn God’s favor. It is not a doctrinal definition that true believers must adhere to. The gospel is news — the announcement of what God has already done in Jesus Christ.

Paul says in 1 Corinthians 15 that the gospel is something he received and then delivered. You don’t invent news; you receive it. You don’t improve news; you announce it. And the news Paul received — the news he staked his life on — is that Christ died for our sins, was buried, and rose again on the third day.

The gospel is not about what we do for God. It is not what we can know about God.
The gospel is about what Christ has done for us.

Today we proclaim this good news:
The gospel is the saving work of Jesus Christ — His life, His death, His resurrection, His reign, and His return — offered to sinners as the power of God for salvation.

I. THE GOSPEL IS THE WORK OF CHRIST PROMISED IN SCRIPTURE

(1 Corinthians 15:3–4; Luke 24:25–27)

Paul says Christ died “according to the Scriptures.” That means the gospel is not a divine afterthought. It is not God scrambling to fix a broken world. The gospel is the fulfillment of a plan God set in motion before the foundation of the world.

From the moment Adam and Eve fell, God promised a Redeemer who would crush the serpent’s head. Every sacrifice, every prophet, every king, every psalm — all of it pointed forward to Christ.

When Jesus walked with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, He opened the Scriptures and showed them that the whole story was about Him. The gospel is not a new story; it is the climax of the old story.

And because the gospel is rooted in Scripture, it is rooted in history. God acted in time and space. Jesus lived in a real body, walked on real soil, died on a real cross, and rose from a real tomb. Our faith is not built on feelings but on fulfilled promises.

When doubts arise, we anchor ourselves not in our emotions or in legal definitions, but in God’s unbreakable Word. The gospel is trustworthy because God is faithful.

II. THE GOSPEL IS THE WORK OF CHRIST IN HIS ATONING DEATH

(Mark 10:45; Romans 3:24–26; 1 Peter 2:24)

Paul says Christ “died for our sins.” That little phrase is the heart of the gospel. Jesus did not die as a martyr for a cause. He did not die as a moral example. He died as a substitute.

Substitution: He took our place.
Propitiation: He bore the wrath we deserved.
Redemption: He purchased our freedom.
Reconciliation: He restored us to God.

Mark 10:45 says the Son of Man came “to give His life as a ransom for many.” A ransom is the price paid to set a captive free. At the cross, Jesus paid the price we could never pay.

Peter says, “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree.” He didn’t send an angel. He didn’t delegate the task. He Himself carried our sins.

The cross is not the prelude to the gospel; it is the center of the gospel. Without the cross, there is no forgiveness. Without forgiveness, there is no reconciliation. Without reconciliation, there is no gospel.

The cross humbles our pride — because we contributed nothing to our salvation.
The cross assures our forgiveness — because Christ paid it all.
The cross compels our worship — because love like this demands our all.

III. THE GOSPEL IS THE WORK OF CHRIST IN HIS RESURRECTION

(1 Corinthians 15:4, 20–22; Romans 4:25)

Paul says Jesus “was raised on the third day.” The resurrection is not an optional add‑on to the gospel. It is the Father’s public declaration that Christ’s work is complete.

Romans 4:25 says Jesus, “was raised for our justification.” The resurrection is God’s stamp of approval on the cross. It is the divine announcement that the debt has been paid in full.

The resurrection also inaugurates the new creation. Paul calls Jesus “the firstfruits.” The firstfruits are the beginning of the harvest — the guarantee that more is coming. Christ’s resurrection guarantees ours.

Because He lives, we will live also.

The resurrection gives hope in suffering — because death does not have the last word.
It gives courage in evangelism — because we proclaim a living Savior.
It gives confidence in death — because the grave is not the end.

IV. THE GOSPEL IS THE WORK OF CHRIST THAT WILL BE COMPLETED AT HIS RETURN

(Acts 17:31; Revelation 21:1–5; 1 Thessalonians 4:13–18)

The gospel is not only about what Christ has done. It is also about what Christ will do.

He will return to judge the world in righteousness.
He will raise the dead.
He will renew creation.
He will wipe away every tear.
He will make all things new.

The gospel ends in glory. The cross leads to the crown. Suffering leads to resurrection. Faith leads to sight.

Application:
The gospel shapes our hope.
It anchors our endurance.
It fuels our mission.

We live in the present with our eyes fixed on the future — because the gospel story ends with Christ victorious and His people glorified.

CONCLUSION — THE GOSPEL IS CHRIST FROM START TO FINISH

Christ promised.
Christ crucified.
Christ risen.
Christ reigning.
Christ returning.

The gospel is the work of Christ — complete, sufficient, victorious.

So today, the call is simple and urgent:

Repent. Believe. Rest in Christ. Proclaim His work to the world.

I appeal to all my fellow believers. Don’t make the gospel ministry the promotion of a creed that must be strictly adhered to. Focus on preaching the work of Christ!

May the Lord fill our hearts with the joy of this gospel and send us out to preach this gospel.

Amen.

UNLESS I SEE

UNLESS I SEE

John 20:24-31 NET.

²⁴Now Thomas (called Didymus), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. ²⁵The other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he replied, “Unless I see the wounds from the nails in his hands, and put my finger into the wounds from the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will never believe it!” ²⁶Eight days later, the disciples were again together in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” ²⁷Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and examine my hands. Extend your hand and put it into my side. Do not continue in your unbelief, but believe.” ²⁸Thomas replied to him, “My Lord and my God!” ²⁹Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are the people who have not seen and yet have believed.” ³⁰Now Jesus performed many other miraculous signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not recorded in this book. ³¹But these are recorded so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

This passage tells us that all eleven of Jesus’ disciples did not see him as soon as he rose from the dead.

Thomas Missed Out.

Ten of the eleven disciples had seen the Lord risen from the dead. But for whatever reason, Thomas was not there with them. He missed out on that blessing. The other disciples told him of their experience, but Thomas was not convinced. He knew one thing: his master was dead. He was not about to let anyone else tell him anything different. Thomas was from Missouri: the “show me” state.

But the church is not made up of one kind of disciple. It is a community of people stretched across the entire spectrum—from confident believers who feel the nearness of Christ every day, to those who are hanging on by a thread, unsure, wounded, or waiting for God to break through the fog. And most of us, if we are honest, move back and forth along that continuum throughout our lives.

Thomas is not the odd disciple out. He is the disciple who says out loud what many of us have felt but were afraid to admit. He is the one who names the ache, the disappointment, the longing for something more than secondhand reports. He is the disciple who wants to believe but cannot pretend. And because he refuses to pretend, his story becomes a gift to the church. It shows us that doubt is not a disqualifier. It is not a barrier Jesus refuses to cross. It is simply a place where Christ intends to meet us.

The other disciples had already seen the risen Lord. They had already experienced the shock and joy of that first Easter evening. They had already moved from fear to wonder. But Thomas was not there. We are not told why. Scripture does not shame him with speculation. It simply says he was absent, and because he was absent, he missed the moment everyone else experienced. When they told him, “We have seen the Lord,” Thomas could not receive it. He could not borrow their faith. He could not live on their testimony. He needed his own encounter.

Now imagine, for a moment, what might have happened if the other disciples had responded to Thomas the way some churches respond to doubt. Imagine if they had said, “If you cannot believe what we believe, then you do not belong here.” Imagine if they had excluded him from their fellowship because his faith was not yet fully formed. Imagine if they had treated his honest struggle as rebellion or unbelief. If they had done that—if they had pushed him away—they would have missed the testimony he would later give. They would have missed the moment when Thomas, the doubter, became Thomas, the worshiper, the one who looked at the risen Christ and declared, “My Lord and my God.”

But they did not exclude him. They stayed with him. They kept him close. They allowed him to wrestle. They trusted that Christ would reveal himself in his own time. And because they stayed, Thomas stayed. And because Thomas stayed, he saw. And because he saw, he believed.

The reason Thomas’ story is in the Bible is that…

Many are Close to Believing.

This is a word the church needs today. Our congregations are filled with people who are somewhere between doubt and faith. Some are new believers still learning the contours of trust. Some are lifelong Christians who have been bruised by suffering or disappointment. Some are young adults asking hard questions for the first time. Some are older saints who have walked with Christ for decades but now find themselves in a season of dryness or silence. And some are like Thomas—longing for a fresh encounter, longing for something more than the faith of others, longing for the risen Christ to meet them personally.

If we stay with them, if we refuse to shame them, if we trust Christ to reveal himself to them farther along the road, their faith will grow. But if we push them away, if we demand certainty before belonging, if we treat doubt as a threat rather than a doorway, we may miss the testimony God intends to bring forth from their lives.

Thomas’s story teaches us that Christ is not threatened by doubt. He is not offended by honest questions. He does not scold Thomas for wanting to see. Instead, he comes to him. He meets him in the very place of his struggle. He offers him the evidence he longed for. And in doing so, he transforms Thomas’s doubt into worship.

Seeing the resurrected Christ was all Thomas needed to solidify his trust. The same was true for the other disciples who had seen him the previous week. Their faith did not rest on wishful thinking or vague spiritual impressions. It rested on a real encounter with the risen Lord. And the outcome of that trust is one of the major themes of John’s Gospel: “life in his name.” John uses that word—life—repeatedly. Sometimes he calls it “eternal life.” Sometimes he calls it “a resurrection of life.” Sometimes he calls Jesus himself “the resurrection and the life.” Sometimes he says “life,” as if the word itself is so full, so rich, so overflowing with promise that no adjective is needed.

What John means is not merely a longer life, not simply an extension of our earthly existence. He means another life. It is the promise of a permanent life after this one, made possible by a resurrection. And that promise is not abstract. It is not theoretical. It is anchored in the historical reality of Christ’s victory over the grave.

The message of John’s gospel – his good news is…

Christ’s Resurrection is a Promise.

Seeing the resurrected Christ enabled the disciples to trust in the promise of their own resurrection. The one who overcame death is the one who will overcome death for them. The one who stepped out of the tomb is the one who will call them out of their tombs. The one who lives forever is the one who will share his life with all who trust him.

This is why the resurrection is not simply a doctrine to affirm. It is the foundation of Christian hope. It is the reason we can face suffering without despair. It is the reason we can face death without fear. It is the reason we can walk through seasons of doubt without losing our way because the risen Christ is not a memory. He is not a metaphor. He is alive. And because he is alive, he can meet us in our doubts, strengthen us in our weakness, and lead us into the life he promised.

Thomas’s story is not the story of a man who failed. It is the story of a man who waited, who wrestled, who longed, and who was met by grace. It is the story of a Savior who does not abandon doubters but seeks them out. It is the story of a community that held space for a struggling brother until Christ himself brought him through.

And it is a story that invites us to do the same. To stay with those who doubt. To trust Christ to reveal himself. To believe that the risen Lord still meets people in their questions. And to remember that the promise of resurrection life is not only for the confident but also for the hesitant, the wounded, the weary, and the waiting.

For the one who overcame death is the one who will overcome death for them—and for us.

Now, I want to talk about…

How to be a Church who welcomes Thomases.

Every church says it welcomes everyone, but not every church feels like a safe place for those who doubt, struggle, or carry unresolved questions. Many congregations unintentionally create an atmosphere where only the confident, the cheerful, and the doctrinally certain feel at home. People who are wrestling with faith or suffering often learn to hide their questions behind polite smiles. Yet the gospel reveals a Savior who consistently drew near to the confused, the wounded, and the skeptical. A congregation shaped by this Jesus must learn to welcome doubters and strugglers not as problems to fix but as fellow travelers on the journey of faith.

To become such a community, the church must cultivate several intentional commitments—spiritual, relational, and communal—that reshape how we imagine discipleship and how we treat one another.

1. Recognize That Doubt Is Part of Biblical Discipleship

Scripture does not sanitize the inner lives of God’s people. Abraham laughed at God’s promise. Moses questioned his call. Elijah despaired. Jeremiah accused God of deceiving him. Thomas refused to believe without evidence. Even the disciples, standing before the risen Christ, worshiped while some doubted.

The Bible treats doubt not as a shameful defect but as a human response to a God who often works in ways we do not expect. Doubt is not the opposite of faith; indifference is. Doubt is faith reaching for understanding, faith struggling to breathe, faith refusing to settle for clichés.

A congregation that welcomes doubters must teach this openly. When sermons acknowledge the complexity of belief, people learn that their questions are not threats to God. When leaders speak honestly about their own seasons of uncertainty, the church becomes a place where honesty is safer than pretense.

This does not mean celebrating doubt or treating it as a virtue. It means recognizing that doubt is a normal part of spiritual growth and that God meets people in their questions with patience, not condemnation.

2. Replace Performance Culture With Humility

Many churches unintentionally create a performance culture where people feel pressure to appear spiritually mature, emotionally steady, and doctrinally certain. Testimonies highlight victories but rarely mention ongoing struggles. Prayer requests are sanitized. Conversations after worship stay on the surface.

In such environments, doubters quickly learn that honesty is costly.

A welcoming congregation cultivates humility instead—a shared recognition that every believer is a work in progress, dependent on grace. Humility dismantles the illusion that some Christians are “above” struggle. It reminds us that the ground at the foot of the cross is level.

Humility also changes how we listen. Instead of rushing to fix people or offer spiritual shortcuts, we learn to sit with them, to hear their stories, and to honor the courage it takes to speak honestly. A humble church does not treat strugglers as projects but as companions.

3. Create Spaces for Honest Conversation

Doubters and strugglers need places where they can speak freely—without being ashamed, dismissed, or pressured into quick resolutions. This requires intentional spaces: small groups, prayer gatherings, mentoring relationships, and informal conversations where people can bring their real selves.

In these spaces, the church must resist the temptation to offer premature answers. Sometimes the most faithful response is not an explanation but presence. When someone confesses doubt, the first task is not to defend God but to bear witness to their pain. When someone admits they are struggling with sin, the first task is not to lecture but to walk with them toward healing.

A congregation that welcomes doubters learns to say things like: “Thank you for trusting us with that.” “You’re not alone.” “Let’s keep walking together.” “God is not afraid of your questions.”

Such responses create an atmosphere where people feel safe enough to be known—and being known is often the first step toward healing.

4. Preach the Gospel of Grace, Not Achievement

A church’s theology shapes its culture. If the gospel is presented as a reward for the spiritually successful, doubters will feel excluded. If sanctification is framed as a steady upward climb, strugglers will feel like failures. If faith is described as certainty rather than trust, those wrestling with questions will feel defective.

But the gospel is not a ladder we climb; it is a gift we receive. It is not a reward for the strong but good news for the weak. It is not a call to pretend but an invitation to bring our whole selves—wounded, confused, hopeful, fearful—into the presence of Christ.

When preaching emphasizes grace, people learn that God’s love does not rise and fall with their spiritual performance. When teaching highlights the patience of Jesus, people learn that he does not abandon them when they falter. When the church proclaims that salvation rests on Christ’s faithfulness rather than ours, doubters discover that their questions cannot undo God’s promises.

5. Practice Hospitality That Honors People’s Stories

Hospitality is more than offering handshakes and smiles. It is the spiritual discipline of making room—emotionally, relationally, and communally—for people whose experiences differ from our own.

Doubters and strugglers often carry stories of disappointment, trauma, unanswered prayer, or intellectual wrestling. A welcoming church honors these stories rather than minimizing them. It listens without defensiveness. It acknowledges the complexity of suffering. It refuses to offer simplistic explanations for deep wounds.

Hospitality also means allowing people to belong before they believe. Jesus welcomed people into a relationship long before they understood who he was. A congregation shaped by his example will not require certainty as a prerequisite for community. Certainty comes with time.

6. Equip the Whole Church to Walk With the Hurting

Welcoming doubters is not the job of pastors alone. It is the calling of the entire congregation. Every member must learn how to respond with compassion, patience, and wisdom.

This requires teaching the church how to listen well, ask gentle questions, avoid clichés, pray with sensitivity, respect boundaries, and trust the Spirit’s timing. It also requires recognizing when someone needs professional counseling or specialized care.

When the whole congregation learns to walk with the hurting, the church becomes a community where no one suffers alone.

7. See Doubters as Gifts, Not Threats

Doubters and strugglers are not liabilities to the church; they are gifts. They keep the community honest. They ask questions that deepen understanding. They remind the church that faith is not a performance but a pilgrimage. They reveal the breadth of God’s patience and the depth of his compassion.

A church that welcomes doubters does not merely tolerate them; it honors them.

To welcome doubters and strugglers is to embody the heart of Christ. It is to create a community where honesty is safer than pretense, where grace is stronger than fear, and where people can bring their whole selves into the light of God’s love. Such a church becomes a refuge for the weary, a home for the wandering, and a witness to the world that the gospel is truly good news—for all of us.

LIFE FROM THE SON

LIFE FROM THE SON

John 5:24-29 NET.

²⁴“I tell you the solemn truth, the one who hears my message and believes the one who sent me has eternal life and will not be condemned but has crossed over from death to life. ²⁵I tell you the solemn truth, a time is coming — and is now here — when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. ²⁶For just as the Father has life in himself, thus he has granted the Son to have life in himself, ²⁷and he has granted the Son authority to execute judgment, because he is the Son of Man. ²⁸“Do not be amazed at this, because a time is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice ²⁹and will come out — the ones who have done what is good to the resurrection resulting in life, and the ones who have done what is evil to the resurrection resulting in condemnation.

One of the important responsibilities of preaching is to slow us down long enough to really hear Scripture. We live in a world where familiar verses come preloaded with assumptions, ideas that almost everyone repeats, but few have traced back to the text itself. When those assumptions go unchallenged, they can blur what God is saying. Preaching becomes an act of love when it clears away that fog and lets the Word speak with its own weight and clarity.

There is something deeply real about this work. It invites us to come before God with open hands, willing to let Him correct us, surprise us, and reshape our understanding. It reminds us that Scripture is not a collection of slogans to confirm what we already think, but a living voice that calls us into truth. When a preacher helps us see what the text truly says—no more, no less—we experience that gentle moment when God realigns our hearts. And in those moments, we remember why we listen at all: because His Word still brings light, and His truth still sets us free.

Today’s passage is one of those places where we need to slow down and listen carefully. Most of us have heard John 5:24 explained the same way: it’s about a spiritual resurrection, a person getting saved, moving from spiritual death to spiritual life. And on the surface, that sounds right. I mean, what else could “crossed over from death to life” mean, if not conversion and new birth?

But you know what? Sometimes a verse we think we already understand is exactly the one that invites us to look again. That’s what I want to do with you this morning. My aim is not to be clever or to dismiss the many faithful teachers and theologians who see spiritual resurrection here. Many of them love Jesus deeply and handle Scripture with great care. I believe, after sitting with this text, that Jesus is talking about something different than what we usually assume.

So together, we’re going to walk slowly through John 5:24-29 and let the passage itself guide us. I hope that, by the end, you’ll see that what Jesus is saying is even richer and more grounded than the familiar explanation—and that your trust in His word will grow deeper, not thinner.

There are Two Life-Givers

Verse 26 says the Father has life in himself, and he has granted the Son to have life in himself. Those are the two sources where life can come from. Now, what kind of life do we get from the Father? Is it spiritual life or is it what we call physical life?

The Bible says that the LORD God formed Adam from dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.[1] He formed a non-living creature from the clay and breathed life into it, and Adam became alive. This is the kind of life we received from our Father. It was a dependent life. We owed our existence and continued functioning to the one who gave us this life. He is the first life-giver, and that life is (for want of a better description) physical animal life.

We have life, but the life we have is not self-contained. The theologians talk about humans having immortal souls, but the Bible never mentions anything about our souls being immortal. The Old Testament says that the soul who sins shall die.[2] Jesus said that sinful souls will be destroyed in Gehenna hell.[3] So, both Testaments testify that the idea of our having immortal souls by nature is unbiblical.

The life we receive from the Father is mortal, conditional life, temporary life. It can be a wonderful life, or it can be a miserable life, but there is one thing that life from the Father cannot be. It cannot be eternal life. The Father made that decision in Eden. He said that if our ancestors ate of the forbidden tree, we would become mortal and we would all eventually die.

Now, is this life from the Father spiritual life? Paul said that before salvation, all of us are “dead in our trespasses.”[4] We cannot even seek God because our sins have made us dead, not functioning in our relationship to him. So, if we are going to have a relationship with God, we are going to need a new life, another life, other than the natural life we were born into.

Never fear, because the Father, who has life in himself, has also granted the Son to have life in himself. There is another source of life. Now this is where the theologians are quick to explain that the kind of life Jesus offers is spiritual life, and that we need that because we are all spiritually dead. But hold your horses, because the text says something different.

The Son gave life by Physical Resurrection.

In verse 25, Jesus says a time is coming — and is now here — when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. One of the keys to understanding that statement is the fact that Jesus used the word “now.” He was referring to his earthly ministry. We know that Jesus brought the dead back to life while he walked among us. He took the corpse of Jairus’ daughter by the hand and said Little girl, I say to you, wake up!”[5] She woke up. To the widow’s son at Nain, he said, “Young man, I say to you, wake up!”[6] He woke up. In Bethany, he called Lazarus by name and told him to get out of that tomb.[7] He shuffled out of that tomb. On the night of his crucifixion, many of the saints who were buried and sleeping in their graves came out.[8] They came to life again.

Now, I want to ask you which of those four resurrections could be categorized as a spiritual resurrection? I think it is obvious that none of them were. They were all examples of Jesus literally raising people from the dead.

Jesus Establishes A Second Pattern Of Life-Giving.

In verse 25, Jesus said, “A time is coming — and is now here — when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live.” If the time that is here meant that Jesus could literally raise the dead during his earthly ministry, what does he mean when he talks about that time that is coming?

We don’t have to guess about that time because Jesus goes on to explain it more fully. He says, “A time is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice and will come out — the ones who have done what is good to the resurrection resulting in life, and the ones who have done what is evil to the resurrection resulting in condemnation.

So, in this time that is coming, Jesus is going to perform the same kind of resurrection as he did during his earthly ministry. He is going to wake the dead and make them alive again. This is not a spiritual resurrection. It, too, is what we might call a literal, physical resurrection. In fact, it appears that there are only three things about this coming resurrection that will be different from the resurrections mentioned in the New Testament.

First, the extent to which the dead are raised. Jairus’ daughter died again. The Widow’s son died again. The saints who were sleeping fell asleep again. Those New Testament resurrections were temporary. They were miracles designed to show who Jesus is. But none of those who were raised were raised immortal.

Second, the purpose of the coming resurrection is Judgment Day. That is why Jesus says that some will be raised to a resurrection that results in condemnation. They, too, will be brought back to life, but not to immortality. Their resurrection is not a doorway into eternal joy but the moment they must stand before the Judge at the Great White Throne and answer for their lives. Every sin, every injustice, every rejection of God’s grace must be dealt with. Scripture is painfully clear: there are only two ways sin can be addressed—either through the atoning death of Christ or through the second death in Gehenna, the lake of fire.

The penalty for sin has always been death. That is the cost. And if we refuse the death of Christ as our substitute, then the only payment left is our own. Hell is not a place for people God dislikes; it is the place where unpaid sin debts are settled. It is a sober reminder that grace is offered freely, but it is not forced. The coming resurrection will reveal who trusted in Christ’s sacrifice and who chose to bear the weight of their own.

But the good news of the gospel is that there is a third and far greater difference between the resurrections Jesus performed during His earthly ministry and the resurrection He will bring about at the end of the age. The people He raised in the Gospels were restored to the same kind of life they had before—beautiful, compassionate miracles, but still temporary. They lived again, but they eventually died again. Their stories point forward, but they are not the destination.

What Jesus promises in the future is something entirely different. He says that some will be raised to a resurrection that results in life—real, lasting, indestructible life. Just as the Father gives life, so the Son gives life. But the life He gives is not mortal life stretched a little longer. It is immortal life, the kind that cannot fade or weaken or slip away. It is not natural life patched up and restarted. It is supernatural life, breathed into us by the One who conquered death. It is not a temporary life borrowed for a season. It is eternal, everlasting, permanent life—life that shares in the very permanence of God Himself.

That is the hope set before us, and it is worth holding with both hands.

This Resurrection Promise Gives us Hope.

Here are five reasons why we can draw confidence and hope from this resurrection promise:

1. The resurrection means death is not the end.

Every funeral, every diagnosis, every reminder of our mortality is not the final word. The resurrection promises that God will reverse what Adam’s fall unleashed. We do not cling to wishful thinking; we cling to a future event God has already previewed in Jesus.

2. The resurrection guarantees that our bodies matter to God.

We are not escaping creation; we are awaiting its renewal. The resurrection tells us that God will raise these very bodies—healed, restored, glorified. Nothing about our embodied life is disposable or forgotten.

3. The resurrection assures us that justice will be done.

So much in this world goes unresolved. But resurrection means God will raise every person and set all things right. No evil will remain unaddressed, and no faithfulness will go unnoticed.

4. The resurrection anchors our hope in Christ’s victory, not our performance.

Our future does not depend on our strength, consistency, or spiritual success. It rests on the risen Christ who conquered death for us. Because He lives, we will live also.

5. The resurrection promises reunion and restoration.

Every tear, every separation, every grave we’ve stood beside will be answered. God will gather His people, restore what was lost, and make all things new. Hope is not abstract. It is personal, relational, and guaranteed.

In conclusion, I am convinced Jesus is not introducing a new or hidden idea of spiritual resurrection in this passage. He is pointing us to the same promise He makes so clearly in John 6, where He says that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in Him has eternal life, and that He Himself will raise that person on the last day. That is the heartbeat of His message. He is not describing an invisible inner event; He is promising a future moment when He will act with resurrection power.

If you belong to Christ today, I cannot promise you a spiritual resurrection that happens quietly inside you. Scripture never speaks that way. But I can promise you something far better and far more concrete. Our Savior knows your name. He has not lost track of you. And one day, He will speak that name with the same authority that called Lazarus out of the tomb. If you are asleep in the dust, you will wake at His voice. If you are in your grave, you will rise and step out into a life that can never be taken from you again. That is the promise He gives, and it is worth holding onto with all your heart.

[1] Genesis 2:7.

[2] Ezekiel 18:4, 20.

[3] Matthew 10:28.

[4] Ephesians 2:1, 5; Colossians 2:13.

[5] Mark 5:21–43, Matthew 9:18–26, and Luke 8:40–56.

[6] Luke 7:11–17.

[7] John 11:1–44

[8] Matthew 27:52–53.