Loving Jesus and Bible Reading

Is it possible to love Jesus and still find the Bible hard to read?

That’s a question I pondered after I saw this quote on Facebook:

“A huge sign you lost the fire for Jesus is the Bible will be a chore to read.”

—Brent Williamson

I know what he is trying to say. He wants people to understand how important knowing Scripture is to being a disciple of Jesus, and I totally agree with that sentiment. Unfortunately, I cannot get on board with what it actually says.

Let me be honest: I hate this kind of thinking. 

I hate it, not because I doubt the speaker’s sincerity, but because it paints a misleading picture of spiritual formation. This quote suggests that if Bible reading feels like work, then something must be wrong with your faith. 

The sentiment behind the quote resonates with those people who love reading the Bible. They find the discipline of Scripture reading easy, and they routinely read through the Bible every year. 

This same thought is guilt producing for people who struggle reading or who find parts of the Bible dull or who have a busy life and anything more than a verse in a devotional book is difficult to do.

Then we have the reality that there are parts of Scripture that are a chore to read. They are hard to understand. They demand focus and effort. That doesn’t mean your fire has gone out—it might just mean you’re normal.

In fact, it might mean you’re growing.

Discipline, Not Just Emotion

Reading the Bible is a spiritual discipline. That word—discipline—implies something that takes effort, not just emotion. Our flesh resists it. The world distracts us from it. But out of love for Jesus and a desire to follow Him, we show up anyway. 

And that’s exactly what maturity looks like: showing up, even when the feelings aren’t there.

Think about other areas of your life. Doing the dishes isn’t thrilling, but you do it because you love your family. Folding laundry doesn’t light your soul on fire, but it’s an act of care. Likewise, opening your Bible when it feels hard or dry is an act of devotion. It’s a quiet “yes” to Jesus. It’s faith expressed through perseverance.

If anything, reading the Bible when it feels like a chore might be one of the clearest signs that your love for Jesus is real. Because you’re not doing it for a spiritual high. You’re doing it because He’s worth it.

Faith Isn’t Just a Feeling

One of the biggest traps we fall into is evaluating our faith based on how we feel. But faith is revealed not just by emotion—it’s revealed by action. Your commitment to read, study, and meditate on Scripture, even when it’s tough, is a beautiful expression of love and trust. Feelings matter, but they’re not the foundation. Obedience is.

This doesn’t mean Bible reading should always feel like a chore. There will be times when the words leap off the page and speak directly to your heart. But when those moments don’t come, that doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It just means you’re in a different part of the journey.

Remember: The Bible Was Written For Us, Not To Us

Part of what makes Scripture challenging is that it wasn’t originally written to us. It was written to people in a particular time, place, language, and culture. That means we have to work to understand it. 

Some passages don’t translate easily. 

Some metaphors don’t land clearly.

 But that doesn’t make them irrelevant—it just means they require effort.

Studying the Bible takes patience, humility, and the help of the Holy Spirit. It also helps to use resources—study Bibles, commentaries, and small groups—that bridge the gap between our world and the world of the text. That’s not unspiritual—that’s faithful study.

Fire Is Good, But Faithfulness Is Better

So let’s stop guilting people for struggling with spiritual disciplines. Let’s stop acting like feelings are the only evidence of faith. 

Let’s celebrate the quiet, faithful decisions people make each day to follow Jesus—even when it’s hard.

Fire is good. But faithfulness is better.

Reflection Questions:

1. Have you ever felt guilty for not enjoying Bible reading? Where does that pressure come from?
2. What helps you stay committed to Scripture when your emotions aren’t cooperating?
3. How can you encourage others who feel stuck or discouraged in their spiritual disciplines?

📬 Want more reflections like this? Subscribe to Paul’s Ponderings and join the conversation as we explore what it means to live faithfully in a world full of noise.

Comforted

Finding Comfort in a Restless World 

A recent survey of 2,000 Americans revealed something striking: only 21% of people experienced “true comfort” in the past 24 hours. On average, we only feel comfortable for about a third of the day—roughly eight hours. And how do people chase after it? A nap. A walk outside. A spa day. Setting the thermostat to just the right temperature.

The picture is clear: most of the world is looking for temporary comfort in fleeting ways. But Scripture points us to a greater reality. There is a source of lasting, unfailing comfort—our heavenly Father. Unlike naps or spa days, His comfort is not circumstantial.

This is the same theme we saw when walking through Nahum: The Justice and Comfort of God. Nahum 1:7 reminds us, “The Lord is good, a stronghold in a day of distress; he cares for those who take refuge in him.” The question is: How do we experience the comfort of God?

In 2 Corinthians 1:3–7, Paul gives us the answer. His comfort is more than a temporary relief—it equips us to endure, fills us with hope, and enables us to extend comfort to others.

Background: Paul and the Corinthian Church

Paul wrote this letter during a time of both joy and tension. Many believers in Corinth had been restored to fellowship with him, but some still resisted his authority. His purpose was to encourage the faithful majority, call the minority to repentance, and defend the nature of true ministry.

And what is true ministry? Not prestige or power—but faithfulness, endurance, and blessing others, even through suffering. That’s why Paul begins his letter with praise to “the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort” (2 Cor. 1:3).

Three Truths About the Comfort of God

1. The Provision of Comfort (v. 3)

Paul begins with blessing, not complaint. God is the source of compassion and “the God of all comfort.” The Greek word paraklesis speaks not of ease, but of encouragement, consolation, and strength to endure.

God draws near like a parent comforting a child. He comforts us through His Word, through prayer, through the Spirit, and through the church community.

But here’s the challenge: we must be willing to receive His comfort. Too often we isolate in silence. Sometimes God’s comfort comes in the form of a phone call, a text, or a coffee with a friend. Don’t cut yourself off from His provision. 

2. The Purpose of Comfort (vv. 4, 6)

Paul says God comforts us “so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction.” His comfort is never meant to end with us. It’s a conduit, not a cul-de-sac.

Paul’s afflictions—his painful visits, opposition, rejection—resulted in comfort for the Corinthians. Affliction, paradoxically, becomes a channel of blessing when it teaches us how to walk alongside others.

Think of sitting by a fire on a freezing night. The warmth is too good to keep to yourself. You naturally want others to come close. That’s what God intends for our scars and valleys—that they would become testimonies, warming others with the same comfort we’ve received.

3. The Power of Comfort (vv. 5, 7)

Paul reminds us that union with Christ means we will suffer, but we will never suffer without comfort. We do not experience the wrath Christ bore for us, but we do walk in His steps of innocent suffering (1 Pet. 2:21).

God’s comfort is not fragile. It sustains, shapes, and strengthens. Paul could have despaired under persecution, rejection, and prison, but instead he discovered that God’s comfort was stronger than any hardship.

When someone clings to Christ through loss, their testimony has power. Their comfort becomes living proof that God’s promises hold true.


Living This Out 

• Receive God’s Comfort Personally – Don’t rely on temporary comforts alone. Run first to the God of all comfort. 
• Extend God’s Comfort to Others – Be intentional in reaching out, sharing, and encouraging. Don’t hoard what God has given you. 
• Trust the Power of God’s Comfort – His comfort is durable. It carries you and equips you to carry others. 

A Story of Enduring Comfort

In 1962, missionary Alan Redpath suffered a near-fatal stroke that left him partially paralyzed. He later wrote:

“There is nothing—no circumstance, no trouble, no testing—that can ever touch me until first of all it has gone past God and past Christ right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with a great purpose.”

Redpath’s life became a living testimony of God’s comfort, not because his suffering disappeared, but because God’s strength and mercy carried him through.

Big Idea

God is the Father of mercies. He comforts us, equips us, and calls us to comfort others—so that His love and hope never end with us.

Challenge

This week, ask God to show you the things you tend to run to for comfort. When you feel the pull toward temporary relief, pause and turn instead to the God of all comfort. Then ask Him to show you one person who needs the same comfort you’ve received. Be His vessel of mercy and strength.

Closing Thought

The world offers comfort that fades. But our God offers comfort that endures. Receive it, share it, and let it overflow—because His comfort never runs dry.

Paul’s Ponderings is a blog dedicated to reflecting on Scripture and encouraging believers to live out their faith with love and purpose.

Paul’s Radical Call to Love: Mutual Submission

Have you ever read a Bible passage and thought, That sounds a little outdated—but in the process you missed out on how revolutionary the thought was?

I think that is the case with Ephesians 5:21–33. On the surface, Paul’s words about wives submitting to husbands and husbands loving their wives can sound like they belong in another century. But if we could hear them the way the first Christians in Ephesus did, we would be stunned the new cultural standard the Apostle was setting for this group of Jesus Followers.

Paul wasn’t reinforcing the power structures of his day—he was turning them upside down.

Mutual Submission: A Shock to the System

Paul begins this section with a thought that would have stopped his readers in their tracks:

“Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” (Ephesians 5:21)

In the Roman world, submission was what their culture was built on. We see this hierarchy laid out in the household code that he lays out following this sentence—slaves obeying masters, wives deferring to husbands, children doing exactly what they were told. We need to understand that the idea that everyone in the church should submit to one another was unthinkable.

If we focus on what Paul says about the roles found in marriage, he doesn’t undo them, but he reframes them. Wives are called to trust and respect their husbands “as to the Lord” (v. 22), this was not surprising. Within the larger Roman world, wives were expected to submit to their husbands. Wives submitting to their husbands was not counter cultural.

What was counter cultural is that husbands are called to love their wives “as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her” (v. 25). Paul spends time teaching husbands why this is important, because it was not assumed that husbands would love their wives. The husband’s responsibility was control. The Christian vision of marriage is that of mutual submission, and the way the husband submits to his wife is by loving her well.

It’s like a dance. The wife follows her husband’s lead, but his lead isn’t about control—it’s about sacrifice, like Jesus washing His disciples’ feet or dying on the cross.

Flipping the Household Code

In Paul’s day, philosophers like Aristotle had already written “household codes” explaining how the family should work. These codes always started with the paterfamilias—the male head of the household—who ruled over everyone. Wives, children, and servants were told to obey. The man’s job? Be in charge.

Paul starts in a way that sounds familiar—wives submit, husbands lead—but then he flips the script. Instead of telling husbands to simply “manage” their wives, he commands them to love their wives like Christ loved the church. That means sacrificial, self-emptying love. It means putting her needs ahead of his own. It means putting her needs and desires ahead of your own. It means doing what is best for the family. It means being willing to die for her.

In a culture where the man answered to no one in his household, Paul says: You submit, too. That’s not Aristotle. That’s Jesus. That is a radical and counter cultural teaching that we miss.

Why It Matters Now

We’re far removed from the Roman world, but these words still push against our instincts. Some people get stuck on “wives submit” and miss the weight of “husbands love.” Others bristle at the idea of submission entirely. But when we read Ephesians 5 through the lens of verse 21—mutual submission—it becomes clear: Paul’s vision is about love that gives, not power that takes.

Whether you’re married or not, the principle stands: In Christ, relationships aren’t about control, but about reflecting His humility. We serve each other because He served us first. We submit to one another because He laid down His life for us.

A Challenge

When you think about your relationships—marriage, friendships, church, workplace—what would change if you saw every interaction through the lens of mutual submission?

What if your first question wasn’t “How can I get my way?” but “How can I love like Christ here?”

This week, try it. In the moment when you want to win the argument, control the plan, or make the call—pause. Remember Paul’s words. Choose the path of humility.

Because in the Kingdom of God, greatness isn’t measured by how many people serve you—it’s measured by how willing you are to serve them.

The Importance of Creating a New Culture

I recently revisited Rodney Stark’s book, The Rise of Christianity, which I heard Dr. Mark Moore recommend years ago. Rodney Stark (1934–2022) was a renowned sociologist of religion who served as a professor of sociology and comparative religion at the University of Washington for 32 years before joining Baylor University in 2004 as Distinguished Professor of the Social Sciences and co-director of the Institute for Studies of Religion. A self-proclaimed history buff, Stark combined his sociological expertise with a profound interest in historical analysis. 

Initially, I read the book assuming Stark was not a Christian, as he had described himself in 1987 as “personally incapable of religious faith.” However, I later discovered that by 2007, after joining Baylor, a Baptist university, Stark publicly identified as an “independent Christian.” He explained that he had come to faith through his extensive study of Christian history. Stark clarified that he had never been an atheist but had previously been best described as an agnostic. He consistently maintained a strong commitment to Western civilization, referring to himself as a “cultural Christian.”

The first chapter of The Rise of Christianity, titled “Conversion and Christian Growth,” introduced a concept that challenged my faith journey. Stark employs patterns and ratios to illustrate how Christianity’s growth aligns with sociological trends observed in other religions. This approach, however, makes Christianity appear almost ordinary, which unsettled me because I wanted to believe in its extraordinary growth. Initially, his rational choice theory, which views religious commitment through the lens of costs and benefits, felt too analytical, as though it missed the spiritual depth and uniqueness of the Christian faith.

What I really began to resonate with came in chapters 4 through 7, which shed light on Christianity’s unique nature in the first century and its profound transformation of the Greco-Roman world. These chapters confirmed my core belief that the resurrection of Jesus Christ revolutionized everything, forever altering the course of history. Stark effectively illustrates this through examples of Christianity’s positive influence. Chapter 4 delves into how Christians demonstrated compassion during epidemics, providing care and support to the sick and dying, while pagans often abandoned them. Chapter 5 explores how Christianity elevated the status of women, offering them dignity and community that paganism failed to provide. Chapters 6 and 7 examine how Christianity enhanced urban life, fostering networks of care and mutual support.

Stark concludes chapter 7 with a powerful statement: “For what they brought was not merely an urban movement, but a novel culture capable of enhancing the quality of life in Greco-Roman cities” (p. 162). This phrase, “novel culture,” really spoke to me. Jesus and the early Christians didn’t merely present a new belief system; they introduced a profoundly different way of life. In the diverse cultural tapestry of the Roman Empire, the introduction of a new deity or philosophy wasn’t unique, but a life that fostered hope in resurrection and new creation was revolutionary.

I believe insight holds a crucial lesson for the contemporary Church. Regrettably, the American Church has often prioritized “Christianizing” the existing culture rather than presenting a distinct alternative. Instead of offering a transformative way of life, we provide a diluted version of the world’s values with a Christian facade. The early Church’s example serves as a challenge to us, urging us to establish a new culture rooted in the hope of resurrection and love of Jesus, not merely a slightly modified version of what already exists.

Creating a new culture requires turning away from the old one—and that’s no small task. Many of us have grown too comfortable with a “Christianized” version of the surrounding culture, mimicking the world’s approach to entertainment, politics, and lifestyle while simply adding a layer of faith on top. We want to believe in Jesus, but often stop short of fully surrendering to His way of life. Yet the brokenness around us—evidenced by high rates of divorce, crushing debt, substance abuse, and sexual addiction—reveals a deep hunger for something more meaningful. Tragically, those who profess to follow Christ often reflect the same struggles, blending in with the culture instead of offering a distinct alternative.

Consider 1 Peter 1:17–19: “If you appeal to the Father who judges impartially according to each one’s work, you are to conduct yourselves in reverence during your time living as strangers. For you know that you were redeemed from your empty way of life inherited from your ancestors, not with perishable things like silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of an unblemished and spotless lamb.” (CSB) 

Peter says that we have been handed an “empty way of life” from our ancestors. We cannot accept the “way of life” our culture gives to us uncritically, we have to measure it against the Bible. My hope and prayer is that we, as the Church, will recognize this futility and embrace a new way of living—one that demonstrates to the world the hope found in following Jesus.

Rodney Stark’s work, including his later reflections as a Christian, emphasizes this truth. His journey from agnosticism to faith, influenced by years of studying Christianity’s historical impact, reminds us that the evidence of Christ’s transformative power is compelling. Before his passing on July 21, 2022, at his home in Woodway, Texas, Stark continued to challenge assumptions about religion’s role in society. His legacy encourages us to think critically and live boldly as followers of Christ. May we take up the call to create a new culture, demonstrating the world a better way through the hope and love of Jesus.

Embracing Diversity with Humility

Have you ever caught yourself quietly labeling someone—strange, naïve, maybe even immoral—not because they’ve done something truly wrong, but simply because they didn’t do things your way?

It’s funny how quickly it happens. Someone approaches a situation differently than we would, and without thinking, our minds go into silent critique mode: What were they thinking? From there, it’s not a big leap to conclude they’re foolish, misguided, or wrong. The only “crime” they committed was failing to meet the unspoken standard in our heads.

The Bible has a word for this: pride. It’s that inner voice whispering, My way is best. My perspective is right. My values are superior. Once we buy into that, it becomes dangerously easy to judge, dismiss, and divide.

The irony? Most of us would agree that diversity—of thought, culture, personality, and background—is a gift from God. A world where everyone thought and acted identically would be dull, robotic, and stagnant. Yet the very differences we claim to celebrate often become the fuel for our harshest judgments.

Jesus Takes It Seriously

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said something that should stop us in our tracks:

“You have heard that it was said to our ancestors, Do not murder, and whoever murders will be subject to judgment. But I tell you, everyone who is angry with his brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Whoever insults his brother or sister will be subject to the court. Whoever says, ‘You fool! ’ will be subject to hellfire.”
(Matthew 5:21–22, CSB)

Jesus isn’t exaggerating here. He’s making the point that contempt, insults, and name-calling come from the same heart that fuels murder. They degrade the image of God in others, and they poison our own hearts in the process.

A Better Way

The Apostle Paul gives us a different standard:

Therefore I, the prisoner in the Lord, urge you to walk worthy of the calling you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.
(Ephesians 4:1–3, CSB)

Humility doesn’t mean abandoning truth or convictions. It means acknowledging that we don’t have all the answers, and that other people—different as they may be—are worth listening to, learning from, and loving.

It means pausing before we slap on a label.
It means trading the instinct to condemn for the discipline of curiosity.
It means seeing diversity not as a flaw to fix, but as part of God’s beautiful design.

Not every choice people make is wise or godly—but our first step shouldn’t be knee-jerk condemnation. God calls us to discernment rooted in love, not in pride.

Today’s Challenge

So this week, notice your labels.

Slow down before speaking.

Choose to listen before you judge.

And when you see someone who is different—in thought, in practice, in culture—thank God for the gift of diversity, and ask Him to help you respond with humility.

Because when we embrace diversity with the heart of Jesus, we don’t just tolerate differences—we reflect the Kingdom.

The Justice and Comfort of God: The Final Verdict and Future Hope

When Justice Applies to Everyone

In April 2013, a Michigan judge handed down one of the most unusual rulings of his career—against himself. Judge Raymond Voet had a posted policy in his courtroom: if a phone went off during proceedings, its owner would be fined $25.

During a prosecutor’s closing argument, Voet’s own smartphone started talking—loudly—asking for voice commands. Embarrassed, the judge silenced it as quickly as he could. But at the next recess, he fined himself $25. “Judges are human,” he said. “We’re not above the rules.”

That’s what real justice looks like—applied fairly, without favoritism, even to the one in charge.

Nahum 3 shows us the same truth about God. No matter how powerful Nineveh was, no matter how untouchable Assyria thought itself to be, God did not overlook their evil. His justice is perfect, consistent, and unavoidable.

When Evil Runs Its Course

Nahum describes Nineveh as a “city of blood,” built on violence, lies, and plunder. Ancient accounts tell of unspeakable cruelty—captives tortured, treaties betrayed, wealth stolen. Assyria’s power grew through deceit and terror, not justice and peace.

God’s verdict? Enough.

Nineveh would be exposed for what it truly was. Once feared, it would now be shamed. The empire that humiliated others would be humiliated itself.

And God reminds Nineveh of history: Thebes, a mighty Egyptian city Assyria once conquered, had seemed invincible too. But it fell. And so would Nineveh. What they had done to others would now return upon their own heads.

The Collapse of False Power

Nahum uses vivid images: 

Nineveh like ripe figs, falling at the slightest shake.
Its soldiers like locusts, swarming in greed but disappearing when danger comes.
Its leaders like sleeping shepherds, abandoning the flock.

The message is clear: the empire’s wealth, armies, and defenses would not save it. The wound would be fatal. And while Assyria’s victims had once wept in terror, now they would rejoice at its downfall.


Where We Fit In

What do we do with a text this heavy?

First, it reminds us that God deals with His enemies in two ways. In Jonah’s day, Nineveh repented—and God relented. But when repentance faded, judgment came. The same is true for us: we must continually turn our hearts back to God, pledging our allegiance to Jesus, or else we risk sharing Nineveh’s fate.

Second, Nahum points us to Christ. On the cross, Jesus absorbed the violence, humiliation, and exposure that sin produces. The taunts, the filth hurled at Him, the shame of being stripped bare—it’s the fate Nineveh faced, and the fate humanity deserves. But Jesus bore it in our place. He took on our judgment so that we could receive God’s mercy.

Without Him, Nineveh’s fate becomes our fate. With Him, we are delivered.


The Final Verdict and Future Hope

Nahum 3 is more than history—it’s a preview of God’s ultimate justice.

For the oppressed: comfort—God will set things right.
For the oppressor: warning—repent before judgment comes.
For God’s people: hope—the downfall of evil is certain, and the reign of God is forever.

As Laurie Braaten writes, “God’s people are called to live as though God’s justice prevails now, and trust that if not now, then in the final judgement the oppressors will receive their deserved punishment and the people of God will be vindicated.”

We live in that tension. We long for God’s justice now, but we hope in His final verdict. And as we wait, we worship, because in Jesus the victory has already been secured.


A Challenge for the Week

Take time this week to worship God for the hope we have in Christ. Thank Him that His justice is real, His timing is perfect, and His mercy is available now.

When life feels unfair, chaotic, or overwhelming, remember: God’s justice brings down the oppressor and delivers His people. Our future is secure in Jesus.

Why Does Evil Exist? A Christian Perspective on the Religion Debate

I originally published on October 19, 2007 on my old blog, and updated it June 25, 2025, this article delves into the age-old question of why evil exists, offering a Christian perspective on the ongoing debate surrounding religion. I thought this was a good companion post to go along with the Clarity series.

In 2007, I witnessed a thought-provoking debate between Christopher Hitchens, the author of God Is Not Great, and Alister McGrath, the author of The Dawkins Delusion. The topic of discussion was Poison or Cure? Religious Belief in the Modern World. Hitchens argued that religion is a poison, fueling unspeakable evil. While McGrath’s response was thoughtful, it lacked the vigor to effectively counter Hitchens’ arguments. Nearly two decades later, this question remains pertinent: Does religion inherently lead to evil, or is there a deeper narrative at play?

Today, this debate continues to resonate in social media firestorms, political rhetoric, and even casual conversations. Critics like Hitchens, whose arguments persist in modern atheist circles from X posts to Reddit threads, point to historical and contemporary examples of religiously justified actions, such as crusades, terrorism, and cultural conflicts. As Christians, we are confronted with the challenge of responding to these claims. More importantly, how does a Christian worldview, rooted in Scripture, address the question of evil and morality itself?

The Question of Evil and Morality

During the 2007 debate, a pivotal moment came when an audience member posed a profound question to Hitchens. If God does not exist, on what basis can anyone declare an action right or wrong? Hitchens attempted to sidestep the question, focusing instead on how religion provides “divine permission” for evil acts. However, the question lingered: Why does he label these acts as evil? What grounds his moral outrage?

As a Christian, I firmly believe that atrocities, whether historical, such as the Inquisition, or modern, like religiously motivated violence, are inherently evil. However, this ability to label something as evil points to a deeper reality. In his book Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis argues that humans universally possess a sense of right and wrong, which he refers to as the Law of Nature. He writes:

“First, that human beings, all over the world, have this peculiar idea that they ought to behave in a certain way, and they cannot truly get rid of it. Secondly, that they do not in fact behave in that way. They know the Law of Nature; they break it. These two facts are the foundation of all clear thinking about ourselves and the universe we inhabit.” (Mere Christianity, p. 8)

This moral intuition is a divine gift, confirmed by the Scriptures in Romans 2:14-15. It’s why individuals like Hitchens and all of us can recognize evil, whether it’s genocide, injustice, or betrayal. But without God, how does an atheist explain this universal moral sense? If life is merely the product of natural selection, why should we care about morality at all?

A Christian Worldview: Morality Points to God

In the Clarity series, we’ve delved into how a Christian worldview, shaped by Scripture, aids us in navigating life’s most challenging questions. From spiritual warfare (relying on God’s strength) to the Bible’s trustworthiness (our foundation for truth), we’ve witnessed how faith provides a lens through which we can comprehend reality. The question of evil and morality is no exception.

Hitchens’ critique assumes that morality is self-evident, but his worldview, naturalism, struggles to explain why. If we’re merely products of evolution, morality becomes a survival mechanism, not a universal truth. Why should I care about atrocities across the globe if they don’t impact my survival? Why label anything as “evil” if there’s no objective standard? These are questions that naturalism can’t answer without resorting to a theistic framework.

In contrast, a Christian worldview establishes morality based on God’s character. As citizens of God’s Kingdom (Colossians 3:17), we perceive evil as a deviation from God’s design, and our moral outrage reflects His justice and love. When we condemn something as evil, whether it’s human trafficking or systemic corruption, we are echoing God’s heart, even if we are unaware of it.

Addressing Religion’s “Evils”

Hitchens’ examples of religious evil often confuse human sin with God’s truth. Christianity acknowledges that people, including Christians, have committed terrible acts. The Bible itself critiques hypocrisy and abuse (Matthew 23:27-28). However, these failures do not negate God’s existence; they highlight our need for Him. As exiles in a broken world (1 Peter 2:11), Christians are called to live honorably, not to wield power or justify violence. Our response to evil is not to abandon faith but to align our actions with Jesus’ love and grace.

In 2025, this tension is felt both online and in global conflicts. X posts decry “religious extremism,” yet many overlook secular ideologies, such as totalitarianism or unchecked consumerism, that have caused equal harm. Evil is not unique to religion; it is a human problem, rooted in our rebellion against God (Romans 3:23). The Christian response is not to point fingers but to point to Jesus, who offers redemption and transformation.

Your Challenge: Reflect and Engage

The debate over religion and evil isn’t just an academic discussion; it profoundly impacts our daily lives. Take a moment to reflect on the source of my sense of right and wrong. In a world that often blames faith for evil, how can I effectively represent King Jesus? As we’ve explored in the Clarity series, our worldview plays a crucial role in shaping our perception of life, morality, and even politics.

Let’s approach this question with prayerful contemplation, as Colossians 3:17 advises: “Whatever you do or say, do it as a representative of the Lord Jesus.” Prayer, as we discussed in our previous post, is our most powerful tool—not a passive act but an active endeavor that invites God’s Kingdom into our world.

Prayer Prompts

• Express gratitude for the moral compass God has gifted us, reflecting His character.

• Seek wisdom to discern right from wrong amidst the complexities of the world.

• Commit to representing Jesus with love, even when faith faces criticism.

If this resonates with you or you feel God’s prompting, don’t hesitate to reach out. Join us in the Clarity series as we construct a biblical worldview to navigate life’s most challenging topics.

The Justice and Comfort of God: The Destruction of Nineveh

Where There Is No Hope for the Future…

Some years ago, a small town was chosen as the site for a new hydroelectric plant. The plan was to build a dam across the river, which meant the whole town would be submerged underwater. The announcement came months in advance, giving residents time to get their affairs in order and relocate.

But something strange happened. House repairs stopped. Community projects ceased. Even lawn care came to a halt. Before anyone had left, the place looked abandoned.

When someone asked a resident why everything had fallen into neglect, he answered, “Where there is no hope for the future, there is no power in the present.”

That’s a life lesson worth remembering. Hope for tomorrow produces strength for today. And the opposite is also true—when you believe there’s no hope, you stop living with purpose.

Nahum’s prophecy worked in the opposite direction. His announcement of Nineveh’s destruction gave Judah hope. Under Assyrian oppression, they could remember: God sees, God cares, and God will rescue. They could celebrate and worship again because their future was secure in God’s hands.

God’s Justice on the Move (Nahum 2:1–2)

Nahum opens with a warning to Nineveh: the attacker is coming. For decades, Assyria had been the aggressor, conquering nations with ruthless cruelty. Now the tables were turning. God Himself was against them.

It’s important to remember: God is not passive toward injustice. He gives time for repentance, but His patience is not indifference. When the time comes, He raises up instruments of His justice to set things right.

The Fall of the Mighty (Nahum 2:3–7)

Nahum paints a vivid picture—shields dyed red, soldiers in crimson, chariots racing through the streets, confusion on every side. Nineveh’s power and military pride were no match for God’s judgment.

The queen herself would be led away into exile, and the people who once repented at Jonah’s preaching now moaned in hopeless defeat. Pride and power are fleeting. No empire, no church, no individual is beyond God’s humbling hand.

Emptiness After Exploitation (Nahum 2:8–10)

Nineveh, once overflowing with wealth and people, would become a ghost town. The Assyrians had plundered countless nations, but now their own treasures would be carried off.

This is the way of the world’s kingdoms—wealth gained through oppression and greed never leads to lasting rest. In the end, it leaves only ruin.

The Lion Becomes Prey (Nahum 2:11–13)

Assyria liked to think of itself as a lion—powerful, fearless, able to devour whatever it pleased. But now, the lion was hunted. God’s chilling words come at the end of the chapter: “Behold, I am against you.”

Those are the most terrifying words a human or a nation can hear. The Babylonians may have been the ones to conquer Nineveh, but the victory came from the Lord’s hand.

From Nahum to Now

James 5:1–8 reminds us that God still opposes those who exploit and dehumanize others. Whether it’s a nation, a corporation, or an individual, when people use their power to harm rather than to help, they set themselves up against God—and He will act.

For God’s people, the message is one of patience and hope. Like Judah under Assyrian rule, like the early church under Roman persecution, we are called to live courageously as we wait for the day Jesus returns to make all things right.

Living in the Meantime

Nineveh’s downfall isn’t just history—it’s a warning. Oppose God’s ways, and eventually, God Himself will oppose you. But it’s also a promise for the oppressed: evil will not have the final word.

So we keep proclaiming His Kingdom, using what we have to restore rather than exploit, and standing firm in faith. Because one day, the Lion of Judah will return, and every oppressor will fall before Him.

Challenge for the Week: Take time to worship. Thank God for the hope we have in Jesus. It’s this hope that keeps us steady when the world seems to be unraveling.

Final Thought: Nahum 2 reminds us that the most important question in life is not Who is against me? but Is God for me? Nineveh’s wealth and power couldn’t protect it when God said, “I am against you.” But in Christ, we can hear the opposite: “I am for you.”The difference comes down to where we stand with Him. The only safe place to be… is on God’s side.