from SmarterArticles

Developers are convinced that AI coding assistants make them faster. The data tells a different story entirely. In one of the most striking findings to emerge from software engineering research in 2025, experienced programmers using frontier AI tools actually took 19 per cent longer to complete tasks than those working without assistance. Yet those same developers believed the AI had accelerated their work by 20 per cent.

This perception gap represents more than a curious psychological phenomenon. It reveals a fundamental disconnect between how developers experience AI-assisted coding and what actually happens to productivity, code quality, and long-term maintenance costs. The implications extend far beyond individual programmers to reshape how organisations measure software development performance and how teams should structure their workflows.

The Landmark Study That Challenged Everything

The research that exposed this discrepancy came from METR, an AI safety organisation that conducted a randomised controlled trial with 16 experienced open-source developers. Each participant had an average of five years of prior experience with the mature projects they worked on. The study assigned 246 tasks randomly to either allow or disallow AI tool usage, with developers primarily using Cursor Pro and Claude 3.5/3.7 Sonnet when permitted.

Before completing their assigned issues, developers predicted AI would speed them up by 24 per cent. After experiencing the slowdown firsthand, they still reported believing AI had improved their performance by 20 per cent. The objective measurement showed the opposite: tasks took 19 per cent longer when AI tools were available.

This finding stands in stark contrast to vendor-sponsored research. GitHub, a subsidiary of Microsoft, published studies claiming developers completed tasks 55.8 per cent faster with Copilot. A multi-company study spanning Microsoft, Accenture, and a Fortune 100 enterprise reported a 26 per cent productivity increase. Google's internal randomised controlled trial found developers using AI finished assignments 21 per cent faster.

The contradiction isn't necessarily that some studies are wrong and others correct. Rather, it reflects different contexts, measurement approaches, and crucially, different relationships between researchers and AI tool vendors. The studies showing productivity gains have authors affiliated with companies that produce or invest in AI coding tools. Whilst this doesn't invalidate their findings, it warrants careful consideration when evaluating claims.

Why Developers Feel Faster Whilst Moving Slower

Several cognitive biases compound to create the perception gap. Visible activity bias makes watching code generate feel productive, even when substantial time disappears into reviewing, debugging, and correcting that output. Cognitive load reduction from less typing creates an illusion of less work, despite the mental effort required to validate AI suggestions.

The novelty effect means new tools feel exciting and effective initially, regardless of objective outcomes. Attribution bias leads developers to credit AI for successes whilst blaming other factors for failures. And sunk cost rationalisation kicks in after organisations invest in AI tools and training, making participants reluctant to admit the investment hasn't paid off.

Stack Overflow's 2025 Developer Survey captures this sentiment shift quantitatively. Whilst 84 per cent of respondents reported using or planning to use AI tools in their development process, positive sentiment dropped to 60 per cent from 70 per cent the previous year. More tellingly, 46 per cent of developers actively distrust AI tool accuracy, compared to only 33 per cent who trust them. When asked directly about productivity impact, just 16.3 per cent said AI made them more productive to a great extent. The largest group, 41.4 per cent, reported little or no effect.

Hidden Quality Costs That Accumulate Over Time

The productivity perception gap becomes more concerning when examining code quality metrics. CodeRabbit's December 2025 “State of AI vs Human Code Generation” report analysed 470 open-source GitHub pull requests and found AI-generated code produced approximately 1.7 times more issues than human-written code.

The severity of defects matters as much as their quantity. AI-authored pull requests contained 1.4 times more critical issues and 1.7 times more major issues on average. Algorithmic errors appeared 2.25 times more frequently in AI-generated changes. Exception-handling gaps doubled. Issues related to incorrect sequencing, missing dependencies, and concurrency misuse showed close to twofold increases across the board.

These aren't merely cosmetic problems. Logic and correctness errors occurred 1.75 times more often. Security findings appeared 1.57 times more frequently. Performance issues showed up 1.42 times as often. Readability problems surfaced more than three times as often in AI-coauthored pull requests.

GitClear's analysis of 211 million changed lines of code between 2020 and 2024 revealed structural shifts in how developers work that presage long-term maintenance challenges. The proportion of new code revised within two weeks of its initial commit nearly doubled from 3.1 per cent in 2020 to 5.7 per cent in 2024. This code churn metric indicates premature or low-quality commits requiring immediate correction.

Perhaps most concerning for long-term codebase health: refactoring declined dramatically. The percentage of changed code lines associated with refactoring dropped from 25 per cent in 2021 to less than 10 per cent in 2024. Duplicate code blocks increased eightfold. For the first time, copy-pasted code exceeded refactored lines, suggesting developers spend more time adding AI-generated snippets than improving existing architecture.

The Hallucination Problem Compounds Maintenance Burdens

Beyond quality metrics, AI coding assistants introduce entirely novel security vulnerabilities through hallucinated dependencies. Research analysing 576,000 code samples from 16 popular large language models found 19.7 per cent of package dependencies were hallucinated, meaning the AI suggested importing libraries that don't actually exist.

Open-source models performed worse, hallucinating nearly 22 per cent of dependencies compared to 5 per cent for commercial models. Alarmingly, 43 per cent of these hallucinations repeated across multiple queries, making them predictable targets for attackers.

This predictability enabled a new attack vector security researchers have termed “slopsquatting.” Attackers monitor commonly hallucinated package names and register them on public repositories like PyPI and npm. When developers copy AI-generated code without verifying dependencies, they inadvertently install malicious packages. Between late 2023 and early 2025, this attack method moved from theoretical concern to active exploitation.

The maintenance costs of hallucinations extend beyond security incidents. Teams must allocate time to verify every dependency AI suggests, check whether suggested APIs actually exist in the versions specified, and validate that code examples reflect current library interfaces rather than outdated or imagined ones. A quarter of developers estimate that one in five AI-generated suggestions contain factual errors or misleading code. More than three-quarters encounter frequent hallucinations and avoid shipping AI-generated code without human verification. This verification overhead represents a hidden productivity cost that perception metrics rarely capture.

Companies implementing comprehensive AI governance frameworks report 60 per cent fewer hallucination-related incidents compared to those using AI tools without oversight controls. The investment in governance processes, however, further erodes the time savings AI supposedly provides.

How Speed Without Stability Creates Accelerated Chaos

The 2025 DORA Report from Google provides perhaps the clearest articulation of how AI acceleration affects software delivery at scale. AI adoption among software development professionals reached 90 per cent, with practitioners typically dedicating two hours daily to AI tools. Over 80 per cent reported AI enhanced their productivity, and 59 per cent perceived positive influence on code quality.

Yet the report's analysis of delivery metrics tells a more nuanced story. AI adoption continues to have a negative relationship with software delivery stability. Developers using AI completed 21 per cent more tasks and merged 98 per cent more pull requests, but organisational delivery metrics remained flat. The report concludes that AI acts as an amplifier, strengthening high-performing organisations whilst worsening dysfunction in those that struggle.

The key insight: speed without stability is accelerated chaos. Without robust automated testing, mature version control practices, and fast feedback loops, increased change volume leads directly to instability. Teams treating AI as a shortcut create faster bugs and deeper technical debt.

Sonar's research quantifies what this instability costs. On average, organisations encounter approximately 53,000 maintainability issues per million lines of code. That translates to roughly 72 code smells caught per developer per month, representing a significant but often invisible drain on team efficiency. Up to 40 per cent of a business's entire IT budget goes toward dealing with technical debt fallout, from fixing bugs in poorly written code to maintaining overly complex legacy systems.

The Uplevel Data Labs study of 800 developers reinforced these findings. Their research found no significant productivity gains in objective measurements such as cycle time or pull request throughput. Developers with Copilot access introduced a 41 per cent increase in bugs, suggesting a measurable negative impact on code quality. Those same developers saw no reduction in burnout risk compared to those working without AI assistance.

Redesigning Workflows for Downstream Reality

Recognising the perception-reality gap doesn't mean abandoning AI coding tools. It means restructuring workflows to account for their actual strengths and weaknesses rather than optimising solely for initial generation speed.

Microsoft's internal approach offers one model. Their AI-powered code review assistant scaled to support over 90 per cent of pull requests, impacting more than 600,000 monthly. The system helps engineers catch issues faster, complete reviews sooner, and enforce consistent best practices. Crucially, it augments human review rather than replacing it, with AI handling routine pattern detection whilst developers focus on logic, architecture, and context-dependent decisions.

Research shows teams using AI-powered code review reported 81 per cent improvement in code quality, significantly higher than 55 per cent for fast teams without AI. The difference lies in where AI effort concentrates. Automated review can eliminate 80 per cent of trivial issues before reaching human reviewers, allowing senior developers to invest attention in architectural decisions rather than formatting corrections.

Effective workflow redesign incorporates several principles that research supports. First, validation must scale with generation speed. When AI accelerates code production, review and testing capacity must expand proportionally. Otherwise, the security debt compounds as nearly half of AI-generated code fails security tests. Second, context matters enormously. According to Qodo research, missing context represents the top issue developers face, reported by 65 per cent during refactoring and approximately 60 per cent during test generation and code review. AI performs poorly without sufficient project-specific information, yet developers often accept suggestions without providing adequate context.

Third, rework tracking becomes essential. The 2025 DORA Report introduced rework rate as a fifth core metric precisely because AI shifts where development time gets spent. Teams produce initial code faster but spend more time reviewing, validating, and correcting it. Monitoring cycle time, code review patterns, and rework rates reveals the true productivity picture that perception surveys miss.

Finally, trust calibration requires ongoing attention. Around 30 per cent of developers still don't trust AI-generated output, according to DORA. This scepticism, rather than indicating resistance to change, may reflect appropriate calibration to actual AI reliability. Organisations benefit from cultivating healthy scepticism rather than promoting uncritical acceptance of AI suggestions.

From Accelerated Output to Sustainable Delivery

The AI coding productivity illusion persists because subjective experience diverges so dramatically from objective measurement. Developers genuinely feel more productive when AI generates code quickly, even as downstream costs accumulate invisibly.

Breaking this illusion requires shifting measurement from initial generation speed toward total lifecycle cost. An AI-assisted feature that takes four hours to generate but requires six hours of debugging, security remediation, and maintenance work represents a net productivity loss, regardless of how fast the first commit appeared.

Organisations succeeding with AI coding tools share common characteristics. They maintain rigorous code review regardless of code origin. They invest in automated testing proportional to development velocity. They track quality metrics alongside throughput metrics. They train developers to evaluate AI suggestions critically rather than accepting them uncritically.

The research increasingly converges on a central insight: AI coding assistants are powerful tools that require skilled operators. In the hands of experienced developers who understand both their capabilities and limitations, they can genuinely accelerate delivery. Applied without appropriate scaffolding, they create technical debt faster than any previous development approach.

The 19 per cent slowdown documented by METR represents one possible outcome, not an inevitable one. But achieving better outcomes requires abandoning the comfortable perception that AI automatically makes development faster and embracing the more complex reality that speed and quality require continuous, deliberate balancing.


References and Sources


Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

 
Read more... Discuss...

from laxmena

We treat prompts like casual questions we ask friends. But recent research reveals something surprising: the way you structure your instruction to an AI model—down to the specific words, order, and format—can dramatically shift the quality of responses you get.

If you've noticed that sometimes ChatGPT gives you brilliant answers and other times utterly mediocre ones, you might be tempted to blame the model. But the truth is more nuanced. The fault often lies not in the AI, but in how we talk to it.

The Prompt Is Not a Query—It's a Configuration

Modern prompt engineering research (Giray 2024; Nori et al. 2024) fundamentally reframes what a prompt actually is. It's not just a question. It's a structured configuration made up of four interrelated components working in concert.

The first is instruction—the specific task you want done. Maybe you're asking the model to synthesize information, cross-reference sources, or analyze a problem. The second component is context, the high-level background that shapes how the model should interpret everything else. For example, knowing your target audience is PhD-level researchers changes how the model frames its response compared to speaking to beginners.

Then comes the input data—the raw material the model works with. This might be a document, a dataset, or a scenario you want analyzed. Finally, there's the output indicator, which specifies the technical constraints: should the response be in JSON? A Markdown table? Limited to 200 tokens?

When these four elements are misaligned—say, you give clear instructions but vague context, or you provide rich input data but unclear output requirements—the model's performance suffers noticeably. Get them all aligned, and you unlock much better results.

Rethinking How Models “Think”

For years, we've relied on a technique called Chain-of-Thought (CoT) prompting. The idea is simple: ask the model to explain its reasoning step-by-step rather than jumping to the answer. “Let's think step by step” became something of a magic phrase.

But recent 2024-2025 benchmarks reveal that for certain types of problems, linear step-by-step reasoning isn't the most effective approach.

Tree-of-Thoughts (ToT) takes a different approach. Instead of following a single reasoning path, the model explores branching possibilities—like a chess player considering multiple tactical options. Research shows ToT outperforms Chain-of-Thought by about 20% on tasks that require you to look ahead globally, like creative writing or strategic planning.

More sophisticated still is Graph-of-Thoughts (GoT), which allows for non-linear reasoning with cycles and merging of ideas. Think of it as thoughts that can loop back and inform each other, rather than flowing in one direction. The remarkable discovery here is efficiency: GoT reduces computational costs by roughly 31% compared to ToT because “thought nodes” can be reused rather than recalculated.

For problems heavy on search—like finding the optimal path through a problem space—there's Algorithm-of-Thoughts (AoT), which embeds algorithmic logic directly into the prompt structure. Rather than asking the model to reason abstractly, you guide it to think in terms of actual computer science algorithms like depth-first search.

The implication is significant: the structure of thought matters as much as the thought itself. A well-designed reasoning framework can make your model smarter without making your hardware faster.

Your Prompts Can Be Optimized Automatically

Manual trial-and-error is becoming obsolete. Researchers have developed systematic ways to optimize prompts automatically, and the results are humbling.

Automatic Prompt Engineer (APE) treats instruction generation as an optimization problem. You define a task and desired outcomes, and APE generates candidate prompts, tests them, and iteratively improves them. The surprising finding? APE-generated prompts often outperform human-written ones. For example, APE discovered that “Let's work this out in a step-by-step way to be sure we have the right answer” works better than the classic “Let's think step by step”—a small tweak that shows how subtle the optimization landscape is.

OPRO takes this further by using language models themselves to improve prompts. It scores each prompt's performance and uses the model to propose better versions. Among its discoveries: seemingly trivial phrases like “Take a deep breath” or “This is important for my career” actually increase mathematical accuracy in language models. These aren't just warm fuzzy statements—they're measurable performance levers.

Directional Stimulus Prompting (DSP) uses a smaller, specialized “policy model” to generate instance-specific hints that guide a larger language model. Think of it as having a specialized coach whispering tactical advice to a star athlete.

The takeaway? If you're manually tweaking prompts, you're working with one hand tied behind your back. The field is moving toward systematic, automated optimization.

The Hidden Biases in How Models Read Your Prompts

When you feed a long prompt to a language model, it doesn't read it with the same attention throughout. This is where in-context learning (ICL) reveals its nuances.

Models exhibit what researchers call the “Lost in the Middle” phenomenon. They give disproportionate weight to information at the beginning of a prompt (primacy bias) and at the end (recency bias). The middle gets neglected. This has a practical implication: if you have critical information, don't bury it in the center of your prompt. Front-load it or push it to the end.

The order of examples matters too. When you're giving a model few-shot examples to learn from, the sequence isn't neutral. A “label-biased” ordering—where correct answers cluster at the beginning—can actually degrade performance compared to a randomized order.

But there's a technique to mitigate hallucination and errors: Self-Consistency. Generate multiple reasoning paths (say, 10 different responses) and take the most frequent answer. In mathematics and logic problems, this approach reduces error rates by 10-15% without requiring a better model.

The Frontier: New Model Architectures, New Prompting Challenges

The field is changing rapidly, and older prompting wisdom doesn't always apply to newer models.

Recent research (Wharton 2025) reveals something counterintuitive: for “Reasoning” models like OpenAI's o1-preview or Google's Gemini 1.5 Pro, explicit Chain-of-Thought prompting can actually increase error rates. These models have internal reasoning mechanisms and don't benefit from the reasoning scaffolding humans provide. In fact, adding explicit CoT can increase latency by 35-600% with only negligible accuracy gains. For these models, simpler prompts often work better.

The rise of multimodal models introduces new prompting challenges. When interleaving images and text, descriptive language turns out to be less effective than “visual pointers”—referencing specific coordinates or regions within an image. A model understands “look at the top-right corner of the image” more reliably than elaborate descriptions.

A persistent security concern is prompt injection. Adversaries can craft inputs like “Ignore previous instructions” that override your carefully designed system prompt. Current defenses involve XML tagging—wrapping user input in tags like <user_input>...</user_input> to clearly delineate data from instructions. It's not perfect, but it significantly reduces the ~50% success rate of naive injection attacks.

Specialized Techniques for Structured Data

One emerging technique that deserves attention is Chain-of-Table (2024-2025), designed specifically for working with tabular data.

Rather than flattening a table into prose, you prompt the model to perform “table operations” as intermediate steps—selecting rows, grouping by columns, sorting by criteria. This mirrors how a human would approach a data task. On benchmarks like WikiTQ and TabFact, Chain-of-Table improves performance by 6-9% compared to converting tables to plain text and using standard reasoning frameworks.

The Bigger Picture

What ties all of this together is a simple insight: prompting is engineering, not poetry. It requires systematic thinking about structure, testing, iteration, and understanding your tools' idiosyncrasies.

You can't just think of a clever question and expect brilliance. You need to understand how models read your instructions, what reasoning frameworks work best for your problem type, and how to leverage automated optimization to go beyond what human intuition alone can achieve.

The models themselves aren't changing dramatically every month, but the ways we interact with them are becoming increasingly sophisticated. As you write prompts going forward, think less like you're having a casual conversation and more like you're configuring a system. Specify your components clearly. Choose a reasoning framework suited to your problem. Test your approach. Optimize it.

The art and science of prompting isn't about finding magical phrases. It's about understanding the machinery beneath the surface—and using that understanding to ask better questions.

 
Read more... Discuss...

from Chemin tournant

État antérieur à la cicatrice, marque parfaite du coup, le mot résorbe la chair que des ogres scient, et loin de ce ravage on en caresse avec plaisir les veines, on se repose ou copule sur ses lambeaux. Mais voilà que la déchirure devient l'antre où j'ai dormi durant cent cinquante-six mille nuits peut-être, aux côtés d'un grillon stéréophonique et du vent qui courbait la pointe des sagaies, gite où l'écorcée me couvrait, vivante. Même encore, tandis que j'ensue le drap, elle me sombre sans plainte dans sa musique.

Nombre d’occurrences : 16

#VoyageauLexique

 
Lire la suite... Discuss...

from Douglas Vandergraph

There is something quietly haunting about Revelation chapter 2. It is not loud like the horsemen or terrifying like the beasts. It does not come wrapped in thunder or earthquakes. Instead, it comes in letters. Personal ones. Intimate ones. Letters written not to the world, but to the Church. And not to the Church in general, but to seven real communities filled with real people who loved, failed, endured, compromised, suffered, and slowly drifted.

That is what makes Revelation 2 so unsettling. You are not reading about strangers. You are reading about us.

We often imagine the book of Revelation as a distant future filled with symbols, but chapter 2 is painfully present. It is Jesus walking through His churches with eyes like fire and a voice like rushing water, stopping at each one, and saying, “Let’s talk.”

Not to shame them. Not to destroy them. But to tell them the truth they have forgotten how to hear.

These letters were written to Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea, but they were also written to every generation that would ever call itself Christian. They are diagnostic letters. Spiritual MRI scans. They show us where love has gone cold, where compromise has crept in, where endurance has been stretched thin, and where faith still burns bright.

And here is the uncomfortable part.

Jesus speaks to these churches not as an outsider, but as the One who walks among them. He knows what happens in their meetings. He sees what they tolerate. He knows who they have become when no one else is watching.

Revelation 2 is not about whether the church is big or small, popular or persecuted. It is about whether it is faithful.

That question still pierces us today.

The first letter goes to Ephesus, and it is both beautiful and devastating. Ephesus was a strong church. Doctrinally sound. Hardworking. Spiritually disciplined. They rejected false teachers. They endured hardship. They were not easily fooled.

And yet Jesus says something that should make every believer pause.

“I know your works… I know your endurance… I know your perseverance… but I have this against you: you have left your first love.”

Not lost. Left.

That one word changes everything.

You do not accidentally leave something you love. You drift. You get busy. You become efficient. You replace intimacy with routine. You keep serving, but you stop surrendering. You keep showing up, but you stop leaning in.

The church at Ephesus did not abandon Jesus. They just stopped loving Him the way they once did.

And that is far more dangerous than outright rebellion.

There are many Christians who still read their Bibles, still attend church, still volunteer, still defend doctrine, but somewhere along the way, the romance of faith has been replaced by the mechanics of religion.

Jesus does not rebuke them for believing the wrong things. He rebukes them for forgetting why they ever believed at all.

This is the heartbreak at the center of Revelation 2.

God is not after religious performance. He is after love.

And love cannot be faked forever.

When Jesus says, “Remember therefore from where you have fallen,” He is not being poetic. He is being surgical. He is saying, “Look back. Look at who you were when I was everything to you. When prayer was not a duty but a refuge. When Scripture was not an obligation but a conversation. When worship was not background noise but your heartbeat.”

Then He says, “Repent and do the works you did at first.”

That is not about going through old motions. It is about returning to old devotion.

Somewhere along the way, Ephesus became very good at being right and very bad at being in love.

And if we are honest, that is not rare. That is common.

We live in a time when people can debate theology with strangers on the internet while barely speaking to God in private. We can argue about Scripture while neglecting the One who wrote it. We can defend Christianity while forgetting Christ.

Jesus is not impressed by religious noise. He is moved by relational nearness.

Then the letter shifts to Smyrna, and the tone changes completely. Smyrna is not rebuked at all. They are poor, persecuted, slandered, and crushed by the world, yet Jesus calls them rich.

That alone should change how we measure success.

Smyrna did not have influence. They did not have power. They did not have cultural favor. What they had was faith.

Jesus tells them something terrifying and comforting at the same time.

“You are about to suffer.”

Not might. Not maybe. You are.

Christianity does not promise protection from pain. It promises presence in it.

Jesus tells them that some will be thrown into prison. Some will face death. But then He says something that has carried believers through centuries of persecution.

“Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life.”

This is not the faith of convenience. This is the faith of cost.

Smyrna reminds us that the absence of blessing does not mean the absence of God. Sometimes the deepest faith is born in the darkest places.

Then comes Pergamum, a church living in the shadow of evil. Jesus says they live “where Satan’s throne is.” That is not poetic exaggeration. Pergamum was a center of emperor worship and pagan ritual.

And yet Jesus says, “You hold fast to My name.”

They were surrounded by pressure to conform, but they did not deny Him. That matters.

But then He says something that cuts deep.

“You tolerate teaching that leads My people into compromise.”

Pergamum did not abandon Jesus. They just made room for things He hates.

This is one of the great dangers of modern faith. We do not reject God. We simply accommodate sin.

We say grace matters, so holiness becomes optional. We say love matters, so truth becomes negotiable.

Jesus is not fooled by churches that are tolerant but not transformed.

Then comes Thyatira, a church filled with good deeds but compromised morals. They were loving, faithful, patient, generous… and corrupted.

Jesus speaks of a false prophetess who had influence among them. They did not challenge her because she was powerful.

That still happens.

When charisma is allowed to override character, the church slowly poisons itself.

Revelation 2 is not about ancient cities. It is about spiritual patterns.

We see ourselves in Ephesus when love fades. We see ourselves in Smyrna when suffering comes. We see ourselves in Pergamum when compromise sneaks in. We see ourselves in Thyatira when influence goes unchecked.

This chapter is not meant to scare us. It is meant to wake us.

Jesus does not speak these words because He is done with the church. He speaks them because He loves it too much to let it drift into ruin.

Every letter ends with the same haunting invitation.

“He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.”

Not what culture says. Not what comfort says. Not what fear says.

What the Spirit says.

And that voice still speaks today.

The question is not whether God is still talking. The question is whether we are still listening.

Revelation 2 does not let us hide behind group identity. It forces us to face personal devotion. It calls us to examine not just what we believe, but who we love.

Because in the end, Christianity is not about being right. It is about being His.

And the greatest tragedy is not losing faith. It is forgetting love.

The final letters of Revelation 2 continue with the same piercing clarity, but the deeper you move into them, the more you realize that Jesus is not only addressing churches — He is revealing the anatomy of the human heart.

These are not distant warnings for ancient cities. They are mirrors.

Every believer, every congregation, every generation moves through these same spiritual seasons. Sometimes we are on fire like Ephesus once was. Sometimes we are bruised like Smyrna. Sometimes we are tempted to blend in like Pergamum. Sometimes we are drifting while still doing good works like Thyatira.

And what Jesus is really saying in Revelation 2 is this: I know you.

Not the version you show. Not the version people assume. The real one.

The one who sits alone in prayer. The one who feels dry inside while still smiling in public. The one who wonders when passion faded and routine took over.

When Jesus says, “I know your works,” it is not a performance review. It is intimacy.

He sees effort. He sees exhaustion. He sees loyalty. He sees compromise.

And still, He speaks.

After Thyatira, the chapter turns toward the promises. And these promises are not random rewards. They are direct reversals of the wounds these churches are carrying.

To Ephesus, the church that lost its first love, Jesus promises the tree of life. In other words, intimacy will be restored.

To Smyrna, the church facing death, He promises a crown of life. Their suffering will not be the end of their story.

To Pergamum, the church tempted by compromise, He promises hidden manna — spiritual nourishment that cannot be polluted by the world.

To Thyatira, the church corrupted by influence, He promises authority with Christ Himself.

These are not bribes. They are healing.

Jesus does not just expose what is broken. He reveals what can be made whole.

Revelation 2 is one long reminder that God is not finished with His people, even when they have lost their way.

The danger is not failure. The danger is comfort.

Comfort makes us sleepy. Comfort makes us tolerant of what once would have grieved us. Comfort slowly numbs conviction until faith becomes background noise.

That is why Jesus keeps calling His church back.

Not to religion. Not to rules. But to Him.

You can feel it in every letter. He does not want better behavior. He wants deeper relationship.

Even His warnings are invitations.

“Repent” does not mean “feel ashamed.” It means “turn back.”

Turn back to prayer. Turn back to hunger. Turn back to listening. Turn back to love.

One of the most beautiful and heartbreaking truths of Revelation 2 is that Jesus never leaves quietly.

He knocks. He speaks. He calls.

Long before a church collapses, it drifts. Long before faith dies, it fades.

Revelation 2 is the mercy of God interrupting the drift.

And this is where it becomes deeply personal.

You may not be in a persecuted church like Smyrna. You may not be surrounded by idols like Pergamum. You may not be under false teaching like Thyatira.

But you know what it feels like to grow tired. You know what it feels like to do the right things without feeling the fire. You know what it feels like to pray and hear silence.

Jesus knows too.

That is why Revelation 2 is not cold. It is compassionate.

Even the sharpest rebukes are spoken by the One who walked the road to the cross for these very people.

He is not writing to strangers. He is writing to those He loves.

And His desire is simple.

Come back.

Not to the version of you that performs. Not to the version of you that hides. But to the version of you that once believed God could change everything.

The promise of Revelation 2 is not that the church will never struggle. It is that the church will never be abandoned.

No matter how far love drifts. No matter how loud compromise becomes. No matter how dark the culture grows.

Jesus still walks among His people.

Still speaking. Still correcting. Still calling.

Still loving.

That is the hope beneath every warning.

The book of Revelation is not about the end of the world. It is about the persistence of Christ.

And Revelation 2 is proof that even when faith grows quiet, God’s voice does not.

He is still knocking.

He is still inviting.

He is still offering life to anyone who will listen.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube

Support the ministry by buying Douglas a coffee

 
Read more...

from Roscoe's Story

In Summary: * From the two Big Ten Conference Basketball Games I followed earlier today (IU losing an exciting game to Nebraska, and Purdue winning an even more exciting game over Penn St.), through working on all my pending correspondence chess games, this has been one smooth and satisfying Saturday. Listening now to relaxing music as evening gives way to night, my plans include wrapping up my night prayers and heading for an early bedtime.

Prayers, etc.: * daily prayers

Health Metrics: * bw= 222.56 lbs. * bp= 151/91 (64)

Exercise: * kegel pelvic floor exercises, half squats, calf raises, wall push-ups

Diet: * 08:00 – 1 peanut butter sandwich, 1 banana * 10:05 – fresh apple chunks * 10:30 – cole slaw * 13:30 – bowl of stew

Activities, Chores, etc.: * 07:00 – bank accounts activity monitored * 07:30 – read, pray, follow news reports from various sources, surf the socials, nap * 10:00 – I'm tuned in to The Flagship Station for IU Sports ahead of this morning's NCAA men's basketball game between the Nebraska Cornhuskers and the Indiana Hoosiers. Start time is scheduled for 11:00 AM Central Time, but I'm listening earlier to catch pregame coverage as well the call of the game itself. * 13:00 – After the IU loss to Nebraska, I've switched over to another Big 10 game. Now listening to the radio call of the Penn St. Nittany Lions at Purdue Boilermakers game. * 15:15 – follow news reports from various sources, surf the socials, read, write, pray. * 18:00 – listen to prayers and podcasts at Pelican+

Chess: * 14:45 – moved in all pending CC games

 
Read more...

from Douglas Vandergraph

I want to start this reflection on Revelation 1 in a way that might feel different from how most people approach it, because Revelation is almost always introduced as a book of fear, chaos, beasts, timelines, and the end of everything. But when John first encountered it, it wasn’t an explosion of terror. It was a collision with recognition. Revelation begins not with destruction but with unveiling. The Greek word apokalypsis means to pull back a veil, to show what was already there but hidden. That matters because so many of us live our lives feeling unseen, misunderstood, overlooked, or misinterpreted. Revelation 1 is not about God finally showing us something new. It is about God showing us what has always been true, but we were too distracted, too tired, too wounded, or too afraid to notice.

John is not in a cathedral when this happens. He is not in a place of triumph or comfort. He is exiled on Patmos, cut off from the churches he loves, isolated, punished for telling the truth about Jesus. Revelation does not begin in power; it begins in loneliness. That is important, because many people believe God only speaks in moments of success or clarity, but Revelation 1 tells us that God often speaks loudest when everything has gone quiet. When you have nothing left to distract you. When the crowd is gone. When the applause is over. When all you have is your faith and the ache in your chest that wonders if any of it still matters.

John is there “because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus.” He is not on Patmos because he did something wrong. He is there because he did something right. That alone speaks to so many of us who have been wounded by doing the right thing. Sometimes obedience does not lead to comfort. Sometimes it leads to exile. Sometimes telling the truth costs you your seat at the table. Sometimes loving Jesus gets you misunderstood. Revelation 1 honors that reality instead of pretending it doesn’t exist.

And it is in that place that John hears a voice. Not a whisper. Not a nudge. A voice like a trumpet. A sound that interrupts his isolation. A sound that cuts through the fog of abandonment. The voice does not begin by scolding him or questioning his faith. It begins by calling him into vision. “Write what you see.” That is what God says when He wants to restore someone who has been pushed aside. He does not ask John what he has lost. He asks him what he sees. That shift changes everything. Loss focuses on what is gone. Vision focuses on what is still possible.

John turns, and what he sees is not what anyone expects. He sees seven lampstands and one like a Son of Man walking among them. The churches are represented as lampstands, not spotlights, not floodlights, not glowing cities. Lampstands are small, fragile things that only matter if they are lit. A lampstand without flame is just metal. A church without the presence of Christ is just a building. A believer without intimacy with Jesus is just a religious routine. What makes the lampstand holy is not the stand; it is the light.

And Jesus is not standing far away from them. He is walking among them. That is the first image of Christ Revelation gives us. Not seated on a throne. Not riding a white horse. Walking among His people. This is not a distant God. This is an attentive one. He is not surveying them from heaven. He is among them, close enough to see cracks, flickers, weaknesses, and faith.

John describes Him in language so rich it almost feels overwhelming. His robe reaches to His feet. His chest is wrapped in a golden sash. His hair is white like wool, like snow. His eyes blaze like fire. His feet glow like bronze refined in a furnace. His voice sounds like rushing waters. In His hand are seven stars. From His mouth comes a sharp two-edged sword. His face shines like the sun in full strength.

This is not poetic excess. This is layered truth. Every detail tells you something about who Jesus is right now, not just who He was in the Gospels. The white hair does not mean age. It means eternal wisdom. He is not getting older. He is the Ancient of Days. The fiery eyes do not mean anger. They mean nothing is hidden from Him. He sees through every mask. The glowing feet mean stability and judgment. The voice like many waters means authority that cannot be drowned out by noise. The sword from His mouth means truth is His weapon. He does not need armies. He speaks, and reality bends.

And when John sees Him, this man who leaned on Jesus’ chest at the Last Supper, who walked with Him, who laughed with Him, who stood at the foot of the cross, who outran Peter to the empty tomb, what does he do?

He falls at His feet as though dead.

This is one of the most honest moments in Scripture. Intimacy does not cancel awe. Familiarity does not erase holiness. The same Jesus who let children sit on His lap now stands in blazing glory, and John cannot remain upright in His presence. That is not fear in the sense of terror. That is fear in the sense of gravity. When you stand near something infinitely holy, you feel your own smallness.

But watch what Jesus does.

He places His right hand on John and says, “Do not be afraid.”

The first touch John receives in this vision is not judgment. It is reassurance. The same hand that holds the stars touches the trembling apostle. The same voice that commands eternity speaks gently to a broken man. Jesus identifies Himself not by power first, but by story. “I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One. I was dead, and now look, I am alive forever and ever.”

This matters because Revelation is not about a future apocalypse. It is about a living Christ. The foundation of everything that follows is not disaster but resurrection. He does not say, “I will conquer.” He says, “I already died and I am already alive.” Your future is not based on what will happen. It is based on what already happened.

Then Jesus says something quietly astonishing. He tells John that He holds the keys of death and Hades. That means no grave, no ending, no tragedy, no loss has the final word. Not cancer. Not betrayal. Not failure. Not your past. Not your regrets. Not the things you wish you could undo. He holds the keys.

That is the real unveiling of Revelation 1. The world looks chaotic because we are looking at events. God is calm because He is holding the keys.

Then John is told to write what he has seen, what is now, and what will take place. Revelation is not just prophecy. It is perspective. It anchors the present inside eternity. It tells suffering believers that their story is not small. It tells tired saints that their faith is not invisible. It tells persecuted churches that Jesus is not absent. He is walking among them, even when they cannot feel Him.

And the seven stars? They are the angels or messengers of the churches. The leaders, the carriers of the flame. They are not floating loose. They are in His hand. Leadership is not held by human strength. It is held by Christ. The lampstands do not sustain the flame. He does.

Revelation 1 is not a warning to be afraid of the future. It is a declaration that Jesus is present in the now. He sees you. He knows your exile. He knows your Patmos. He knows what it costs you to be faithful. He knows how heavy obedience can feel. And He has not left you.

The most haunting truth in this chapter is that Jesus is walking among the churches whether they are strong or weak, faithful or compromised. His presence is not conditional on their perfection. It is anchored in His covenant.

So if you are tired, if you are unseen, if you are wondering whether what you are doing matters, Revelation 1 speaks to you across time. It says you are not abandoned. You are not forgotten. The risen Christ is closer than you think, eyes like fire, voice like oceans, hand steady on your shoulder, whispering the same words He whispered to John.

Do not be afraid.

This is not the end of your story.

This is the unveiling of it.

And that unveiling does not stop with John. It flows outward like light spilling from a doorway that has finally been opened. Revelation 1 is not merely the story of one apostle on one island; it is the beginning of a revelation meant to reach every heart that has ever wondered whether God still sees them. When Jesus tells John to write what he sees, He is not commissioning a private journal. He is commissioning a testimony meant to outlive empires, persecutions, and generations of doubt. That is why, even now, centuries later, these words still carry weight. They were written for people who would feel what you feel, who would struggle as you struggle, who would ask the same quiet questions in the dark.

What makes Revelation 1 so powerful is that it reintroduces Jesus not as memory but as reality. Many people know the story of Jesus as something that happened long ago. They know the manger, the cross, the empty tomb. But Revelation 1 refuses to let Him remain trapped in history. It shows Him alive, active, authoritative, present. The Jesus who walked the dusty roads of Galilee is the same Jesus walking among His churches now. He is not frozen in Scripture. He is moving in the present.

There is something deeply comforting about the way John describes the lampstands. They are separate, distinct, individual, yet all are illuminated by the same Christ. This tells us something about how God sees His people. He does not flatten us into one mass. He does not erase our individuality. Each church, each believer, has their own flame, their own place, their own purpose. And yet all of them are sustained by the same presence. You are not required to shine like someone else. You are called to burn where you are placed.

The tragedy of so much modern faith is that we often confuse brightness with faithfulness. We think the biggest platform means the greatest anointing. But lampstands were not meant to be impressive. They were meant to be faithful. They held the flame so the light could be seen. Revelation 1 is a reminder that God values endurance more than spectacle. He values presence more than polish. He values faith more than flash.

When Jesus holds the seven stars in His hand, He is showing that the responsibility of leadership, of guidance, of spiritual care, is not a burden meant to crush human shoulders. It is something He carries with us. That is a word for anyone who has ever felt the weight of responsibility, whether in ministry, in family, or in life. You are not carrying this alone. You are held by the One who holds everything.

One of the most beautiful details in this chapter is the way Jesus speaks about Himself. He does not introduce Himself with a title of power alone. He introduces Himself with a story of suffering and victory. “I was dead, and now I am alive forever and ever.” He anchors His authority in His wounds. That means He understands pain from the inside. He knows betrayal. He knows loss. He knows fear. And yet He stands victorious. This is not a distant ruler who demands loyalty without empathy. This is a Savior who earned the right to lead by walking through death and coming back alive.

That changes how we read the rest of Revelation. The visions of judgment, of conflict, of cosmic struggle, are not driven by a cruel God. They are driven by a crucified and risen Christ who refuses to let evil have the last word. Revelation is not about destruction for its own sake. It is about restoration through truth.

John falling at Jesus’ feet is not just a reaction to glory. It is a recognition of reality. When you finally see who Jesus truly is, you cannot remain the same. His presence rearranges you. It humbles you. It reminds you that your life is part of something far bigger than your own fears and failures. And yet, even in that overwhelming moment, Jesus’ first response is kindness. He touches John. He speaks peace. He lifts him from the ground.

That is the heart of Revelation. Not terror, but transformation.

So many people approach this book with anxiety, scanning its pages for signs of doom. But Revelation 1 invites us to approach it with awe. It invites us to see Jesus as He truly is. Not the gentle teacher we sometimes reduce Him to, but the Lord of history, the Alpha and the Omega, the One who stands outside time and yet walks inside our suffering.

If you are in a season that feels like exile, if you feel cut off, overlooked, or forgotten, remember John on Patmos. God did not abandon him there. He met him there. Your isolation may not be a punishment. It may be a preparation. Sometimes God removes the noise so He can reveal His voice.

And when He does, He does not reveal fear. He reveals Himself.

Revelation 1 ends with a mystery explained. The lampstands are the churches. The stars are their messengers. But the greatest mystery remains beautifully open. The risen Christ, walking among His people, holding their future in His hands, inviting them to see what has always been true.

You are not alone.

You are not unseen.

You are not forgotten.

The Revelation that began on Patmos continues in every heart willing to look beyond the veil.

Jesus is here.

And He always has been.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@douglasvandergraph

Support the ministry by buying Douglas a coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/douglasvandergraph

 
Read more...

from Café histoire

Nouvelle Fondation. A mi-décembre, j’ai acquis d’occasion un ThinkPad T480, reconditionné avec Linux Mint installé. Ceci est la chronique de ce choix et de ce passage de l’univers Apple à l’univers Linux.

Linuxien un jour de Fête !

Durant ces Fêtes de fin d'année, j'ai eu l'occasion de me familiariser plus encore avec mon ThinkPad et Linux Mint.

Globalement mes repères et mes routines s'installent déjà.

J'ai plus particulièrement eu l'occasion de tester mon dispositif pour le traitement de mes photos. Pix est très largement satisfaisant. En premier lieu pour récupérer mes photos sur ma carte SD. En deuxième lieu, pour un traitement basique de mes clichés.

J'ai eu l'occasion aussi de comparer mes photos sur mon ThinkPad et mon MacBook Air. Elles sont largement similaires à l'écran dans le rendu. Sauf pour le traitement de leur netteté, Luminar (MacBook Air) donne des résultats semblable à Pix.

Probablement que l'écran moins lumineux du ThinkPad T480 m'incitera à réaliser des photos plus claires avec mes appareils photos ou d'appliquer un traitement ajoutant plus de luminosité à mes clichés.

Par ailleurs, plutôt que l'acquisition d'un NAS, je vais continuer d’utiliser pCloud pour sauvegarder mon ordinateur ainsi que mes photos. J'ai donc installé l'application sur mon ThinkPad. Elle finit de compléter mon setup d'applications.

Complément :

En Allemagne, le #ChaosComputerClub formalise une « Journée de l’indépendance numérique »
https://itsocial.fr/cybersecurite/cybersecurite-actualites/en-allemagne-le-chaos-computer-club-formalise-une-journee-de-lindependance-numerique/

L’initiative repose sur 1 principe explicité par Marc Kling, écrivain allemand. Chaque 1er dimanche du mois, citoyens & orgas sont invités à franchir 1 étape concrète pour se détacher des écosystèmes dominants. Cela peut signifier migrer d’1 messagerie proprio vers 1 service + respectueux de la vie privée & de la confidentialité, quitter 1 plateforme sociale fermée & rejoindre 1 espace fédéré, changer de moteur de recherche, son navigateur ou, + largement, réévaluer ses outils numériques quotidiens.

La première édition a lieu ce 4 janvier.

Source : Pouet de brume@piaille.fr Vu sur Mastodon

Tags : #AuCafé #Linux #ThinkPad #ŧ480

 
Lire la suite... Discuss...

from Have A Good Day

When it comes to writing, AI is the elephant in any room. Large Language Models are very good with language, but how much can you use them without losing the essence of why you started writing in the first place?

I still find Seth Godin’s take “Walk Away or Dance” valuable here. You often hear advice that using AI is not good or authentic enough. But on the other hand, your work does not automatically become good simply by not using AI. Moreover, if you need significantly longer to reach the same quality level without AI than with AI, you have also failed.

Walking away from AI is for geniuses in their field, who are also great at selling their work. Everybody else has no choice.

For glamglare, we use AI as a spellchecker, fact-checker, and editor. We select the song and write the initial copy. From there, we dance with AI.

 
Read more...

from POTUSRoaster

#POTUS Hates the Declaration of Independence

Hello again. Sorry I have been away so long. Real Life got control and I have had to do stuff there.

So lets begin again. We note that ICE murders have escalated with the latest in Minneapolis and Portland, OR. This weekend many protesters have gathered to show their dissatisfaction with the way the government is acting.

I guess POTUS has never read the declaration which started this nation. Here is a portion that is being overlooked: “ Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, —That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government”

If the government we have is not what we want, it is our Right to make the changes or get rid of the one we have so we can make a new one. That's what the founders of the country believed and what they “mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor” If they did that for us, can we do any less for ourselves?

Potus is a danger to our lives, fortunes and honor and must be removed. Urge your representatives to do just that. If they won't then maybe its time to remove them also.

Thanks for reading these posts. If you enjoy them, please tell your friends and family. To read the other posts go to: write.as/potusroaster/archive

 
Read more... Discuss...

from Douglas Vandergraph

Jude is one of those books that feels like it was written for moments when faith stops being theoretical and becomes something you have to defend with your whole heart. It is short, almost startlingly so, but it does not whisper. It speaks with the voice of someone who knows what is at stake. Jude is not interested in soft spirituality that floats above real life. He is talking to people who are watching truth get bent, love get hollowed out, and grace get turned into an excuse. And he loves them too much to stay quiet about it.

There is something deeply personal about the way Jude opens his letter. He calls himself a servant of Jesus Christ and a brother of James. That is not just a resume line. It is a positioning of his soul. He is not trying to build a platform. He is reminding us that everything he is about to say comes from loyalty, not ego. He writes to people who are called, loved by God the Father, and kept for Jesus Christ. That phrase alone could carry an entire sermon. Kept for Jesus Christ. Not kept by their own cleverness. Not kept by their flawless theology. Kept by Christ himself. Jude begins with that because everything that follows, even the hard parts, sits inside that truth. You are not being addressed because you are disposable. You are being addressed because you are cherished.

What makes Jude so piercing is that he did not originally intend to write a warning letter. He wanted to write about the shared salvation he had with his readers. He wanted to celebrate the beauty of what they all believed. But something had changed. Something had crept in. People were twisting grace into something that excused selfishness, immorality, and spiritual laziness. They were turning the kindness of God into a permission slip to live however they wanted. Jude felt the urgency of that shift, and it compelled him to change what he was writing. That is a powerful thing. Sometimes love means changing the message you hoped to give because the moment demands a different one.

When Jude tells them to contend for the faith, he is not telling them to become angry or combative. He is telling them to care enough to not let something precious be diluted into meaninglessness. Faith, in Jude’s mind, is not just a private comfort. It is a sacred trust. It was delivered once for all, and that means it has a shape, a story, a substance that matters. When people try to redefine it to make themselves more comfortable, something sacred is being lost.

The danger Jude describes is subtle. These are not obvious villains. These are people who have slipped in unnoticed. They are using spiritual language. They are part of the community. But they are hollowing it out from the inside by redefining grace. They deny Jesus not necessarily with their words, but with their lives. They use God’s mercy as a shield for their own self-centeredness. That is why Jude reaches for such strong images. He talks about Israel in the wilderness, angels who abandoned their proper place, and cities like Sodom and Gomorrah. He is not being dramatic for effect. He is showing a pattern. When people reject God’s design and substitute their own desires, it always leads to collapse, even if it looks clever or enlightened at first.

One of the most haunting phrases in Jude is when he calls these false teachers “clouds without rain.” That image alone can stop you in your tracks. A cloud looks like it is going to bring life. It promises relief, refreshment, something good. But when it passes without rain, it leaves the ground just as dry as before, maybe even more disappointed than it was. That is what empty spirituality does. It talks about hope, but it delivers nothing. It promises freedom, but it leaves people trapped in the same cycles. Jude is warning us not to be impressed by appearance. Fruit matters. Substance matters. Faith that does not change you is not the faith Jude is talking about.

What is striking is that Jude does not just call out what is wrong. He shows us what a healthy spiritual life looks like in contrast. He tells his readers to build themselves up in their most holy faith, to pray in the Holy Spirit, to keep themselves in the love of God, and to wait for the mercy of Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. That is a beautiful four-part rhythm. Build, pray, keep, wait. It is not frantic. It is not performative. It is deeply relational. Jude is describing a life that stays rooted while everything else is shifting.

There is also a tenderness in Jude that people sometimes miss. He tells his readers to be merciful to those who doubt. That line matters. Jude knows that not everyone who is confused is corrupt. Some people are genuinely struggling. They are trying to make sense of what they have been taught and what they see. Jude’s answer to them is not condemnation. It is mercy. It is patience. It is walking with them. But he also knows that there are people who are being pulled toward destructive ideas, and for them, mercy sometimes looks like intervention. It looks like pulling someone back from the fire. That is not cruelty. That is love that refuses to be passive while someone gets hurt.

One of the most fascinating things about Jude is his use of stories and traditions that are not directly from the Hebrew Scriptures. He references things like the dispute between Michael and the devil over Moses’ body, and the prophecy of Enoch. This has caused endless debates among scholars, but what matters here is how Jude uses them. He is not asking his readers to build their theology on these stories. He is using familiar images to make a point about humility and accountability. Even powerful spiritual beings, in these stories, do not take it upon themselves to pronounce arrogant judgments. They submit to God’s authority. Jude is exposing how absurd it is when human teachers act as if they are above correction.

There is a sobering honesty in Jude’s assessment of what happens when people make themselves the center. He says they follow their own ungodly desires. They cause divisions. They are worldly-minded and devoid of the Spirit. That is not about intellectual disagreement. That is about a heart posture. When faith becomes a tool to serve your ego, it stops being faith in any meaningful sense. Jude is not worried about people asking hard questions. He is worried about people using God to justify themselves.

Yet for all of Jude’s warnings, the letter does not end in fear. It ends in one of the most beautiful doxologies in the entire New Testament. He reminds his readers that God is able to keep them from stumbling and to present them before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy. That is not a small promise. Jude has just described a world full of deception, temptation, and spiritual confusion. And then he says, in the middle of all that, God is able to keep you. Not barely. Not grudgingly. With great joy. God does not save you and then sigh. He delights in bringing you home.

That final image reframes everything. Jude is not telling us to guard the faith because God is fragile. He is telling us to guard the faith because we are precious. The truth matters because it leads us to the One who loves us. When we distort that truth, we are not just playing with ideas. We are playing with the way people encounter God.

In a world that is constantly redefining everything, Jude feels almost prophetic. We live in a time when words like grace, love, and freedom are used constantly, but they often mean whatever the speaker wants them to mean. Jude would ask us to slow down and ask what those words are actually anchored to. Grace is not a license to self-destruct. Love is not the absence of boundaries. Freedom is not the erasure of truth. Jude is calling us back to a faith that is strong enough to be kind and kind enough to be strong.

There is something quietly radical about that. It means you do not have to choose between compassion and conviction. Jude refuses that false choice. He shows us a way to be deeply rooted and deeply gentle at the same time. He wants us to be people who know what we believe and why, but who also know how to sit with someone in their doubt without shaming them.

Jude is a letter for people who care. It is written to those who feel the ache when something sacred is being cheapened. It is written to those who want their faith to be more than a label. It is written to those who know that love without truth becomes hollow, and truth without love becomes harsh. Jude is calling us into a better way, a way that holds on to what matters while still holding people with mercy.

As you read Jude, you can almost hear his heartbeat behind the words. He is not interested in winning arguments. He is interested in saving souls. He is not trying to prove how right he is. He is trying to protect something beautiful from being eroded. That kind of courage does not come from fear. It comes from love.

And that is what makes Jude so relevant now. We are surrounded by voices that tell us to either compromise everything or fight everyone. Jude offers a different path. He calls us to contend for the faith, yes, but to do it as people who are being kept by God, shaped by mercy, and held by joy. He reminds us that in the end, it is not our grip on God that saves us. It is God’s grip on us.

That is where the letter finally rests. Not in our ability to be perfect, but in God’s ability to be faithful. Jude’s warnings are serious because the stakes are high. But his hope is even bigger. We are not alone in this. We are not abandoned to confusion. We are kept.

That single word, kept, might be the quiet heart of the entire letter. Kept when the world is loud. Kept when truth is blurred. Kept when we stumble. Kept for Jesus Christ.

And that is why Jude, short as it is, carries so much weight. It is not just a warning. It is a promise.

Jude’s final movement feels almost like he steps back, takes a deep breath, and then lifts everyone’s eyes upward. After all the warnings, all the imagery, all the hard truth about false teachers and spiritual danger, he refuses to leave us staring at the problem. He moves us to the presence of God. That shift matters more than most people realize. Fear-focused faith always collapses. God-centered faith endures.

When Jude says that God is able to keep you from stumbling, he is not making a sentimental statement. He is making a theological one. He has just spent an entire letter describing how easy it is to be misled, how quickly corruption can creep in, how often people fall into error even when they think they are doing fine. Then he says God is able to keep you. That means your safety is not anchored in your intelligence, your discipline, or your theological precision. It is anchored in God’s power and God’s commitment to you.

This is one of the quiet tensions Jude holds beautifully. On one hand, he tells us to contend for the faith, to stay alert, to guard what is precious. On the other hand, he says God is the one who keeps us. That is not a contradiction. That is relationship. You hold on, but you are not holding alone. You fight for truth, but you are not fighting in your own strength. You stay faithful, but faithfulness itself is being sustained by grace.

Jude’s closing doxology is one of the most hope-filled endings in Scripture because it is so honest about the messiness of the journey. God does not just get you to the finish line. Jude says God will present you before His glorious presence without fault and with great joy. That means the story does not end with you barely making it, scraped and ashamed. It ends with joy. God is not dragging you into heaven like a disappointed supervisor. He is welcoming you like a loving Father who is thrilled to see you home.

This is where Jude’s fierce tone suddenly makes sense. He was never being harsh for the sake of being harsh. He was being protective. When you care deeply about something, you guard it. When you love people, you warn them about what can hurt them. Jude is not trying to scare his readers. He is trying to keep them close to the One who can truly keep them.

There is something deeply needed in that message right now. We live in a time when spiritual language is everywhere, but spiritual depth is often missing. People talk about grace, but they do not always talk about transformation. They talk about love, but they do not always talk about truth. Jude is reminding us that these things belong together. Grace without transformation becomes meaningless. Truth without love becomes unbearable. But when they walk together, faith becomes something that can actually sustain a life.

One of the most beautiful things about Jude is how he refuses to let us become cynical. He knows the dangers. He names them clearly. But he does not let the existence of false teachers rob him of hope. He still believes in the power of the gospel. He still believes in the ability of God to keep His people. He still believes that faith can be strong, pure, and alive, even in a broken world.

That is a word for anyone who feels tired of watching faith get misused. You do not have to give up. You do not have to become bitter. Jude shows us that you can be honest about the problems and still be deeply hopeful about God’s faithfulness. You can acknowledge the darkness without losing sight of the light.

Jude also reminds us that faith is not meant to be passive. We are called to build ourselves up, to pray, to stay in God’s love, and to wait for Christ’s mercy. That is not religious busyness. That is spiritual relationship. It is the daily practice of turning toward God instead of drifting away. It is choosing to stay rooted when everything around you is shifting.

And in the middle of that, we are called to love people. To be merciful to those who doubt. To care about those who are struggling. To reach out to those who are being pulled toward things that will harm them. Jude’s faith is not cold. It is compassionate. It is not detached. It is deeply involved in the lives of others.

In many ways, Jude is inviting us into a mature kind of faith. Not a naive faith that pretends nothing is wrong. Not a hardened faith that expects everyone to fail. But a steady faith that knows God is good, truth matters, and people are worth fighting for.

That kind of faith is rare, and it is precious.

Jude may only be one chapter long, but it carries the weight of someone who understands what is at stake. He understands that what we believe shapes how we live, and how we live shapes who we become. He understands that grace is not a loophole, but a lifeline. He understands that love is not indulgence, but devotion.

And above all, he understands that God is faithful.

So if you ever find yourself wondering whether your faith can survive the confusion, the compromise, the noise, and the pressure of this world, Jude gives you an answer. Yes. Not because you are strong enough, but because God is.

You are kept.

And that changes everything.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube

Support the ministry by buying Douglas a coffee

 
Read more...

from DrFox

Je regarde la situation politique mondiale avec une forme de fatigue lucide. Celle de celui qui a trop regardé pour encore se raconter des histoires simples. J’ai longtemps cru que la politique était une affaire d’idées, de visions, de projets collectifs. Aujourd’hui, j’y vois surtout une scène psychologique à ciel ouvert. Une immense pièce où se jouent des angoisses primitives, habillées de drapeaux et de slogans.

Le monde n’est pas gouverné par des monstres. Il est gouverné par des humains débordés. Débordés par la complexité qu’ils ont eux-mêmes contribué à créer. États tentaculaires, marchés abstraits, réseaux sociaux instantanés, opinion publique fragmentée. Nous avons fabriqué une machine qui va plus vite que notre capacité à la penser. Et comme souvent dans l’histoire humaine, quand la pensée ne suit plus, ce sont les affects bruts qui prennent le relais. La peur. La colère. Le besoin d’un responsable. Le besoin d’un père. La Terre à besoin de Pères.

Je vois des peuples entiers chercher de la protection, pas un projet. Ils ne demandent plus où aller, ils demandent qu’on les rassure. Et je comprends ce mouvement. L’insécurité économique, identitaire, écologique n’est pas un fantasme. Elle est réelle. Mais la réponse qui lui est apportée est souvent infantile. On promet du contrôle là où il n’y a que de l’interdépendance. On promet des frontières étanches dans un monde poreux. On promet de revenir en arrière alors que le temps ne fait jamais demi tour.

Les dirigeants eux-mêmes me semblent pris dans ce piège. Beaucoup ne gouvernent plus, ils réagissent. Ils surfent sur l’émotion du moment, sur la crise suivante, sur le tweet de trop. La politique est devenue un système nerveux à vif. Plus personne ne régule, tout le monde s’excite. Dans cet état, la décision n’est plus juste, elle est défensive. On ne choisit pas le meilleur possible, on évite le pire immédiat.

Ce qui me frappe le plus, c’est la perte de verticalité intérieure. Pas au sens autoritaire. Au sens de colonne vertébrale. J’observe des sociétés qui ne savent plus ce qu’elles transmettent. Plus de récit commun crédible. Plus de horizon désirable. Alors on compense avec de la morale, de l’indignation, de la posture. On désigne des ennemis, internes ou externes. On simplifie à l’extrême pour ne pas sombrer. Mais la simplification est un anesthésiant. Elle soulage à court terme et détruit à long terme.

Je ne crois pas que la solution viendra d’un camp contre un autre. Cette lecture est dépassée. Gauche contre droite, progressistes contre conservateurs, nations contre nations. Tout cela me semble être des décors. Le vrai clivage est ailleurs. Il est entre ceux qui acceptent la complexité sans s’y dissoudre et ceux qui la refusent en bloc. Entre ceux qui peuvent rester en lien dans l’incertitude et ceux qui ont besoin de certitudes rigides pour tenir debout.

La montée des extrêmes ne m’étonne pas. Elle est presque logique. Quand l’espace symbolique se vide, quand les institutions ne contiennent plus, l’humain retourne à des réflexes archaïques. Appartenance, domination, exclusion. C’est une régression psychique. Et on ne soigne pas une régression avec des leçons. On la soigne avec des cadres solides, lisibles, incarnés.

Ce qui m’inquiète profondément, c’est que nous confondions vitesse et direction. Innovation et progrès. Bruit et vitalité. Nous parlons d’intelligence artificielle, de transition, de croissance verte, mais sans jamais poser la question la plus simple et la plus dérangeante. Pour servir quoi. Pour nourrir quoi en nous. Tant que cette question reste évitée, la technologie ne fera qu’amplifier nos déséquilibres.

Je n’attends plus grand chose maintenant des grands discours politiques. J’attends des actes modestes et cohérents. Des décisions qui acceptent de perdre en popularité pour gagner en justesse. Des leaders capables de dire je ne sais pas encore. Des peuples capables de tolérer cette réponse sans se sentir abandonnés. C’est peut être là le vrai chantier. Apprendre collectivement à vivre sans illusion de toute puissance.

Malgré tout, je ne suis pas pessimiste. Je vois émerger, en marge des systèmes officiels, des formes nouvelles de conscience. Des citoyens qui se réapproprient leur responsabilité. Des communautés qui expérimentent d’autres manières de faire lien. Ce n’est pas spectaculaire. Ce n’est pas médiatisé. Mais c’est vivant. Et le vivant ne fait jamais de bruit quand il pousse.

La situation politique mondiale me semble être à un point de bascule. Pas vers un effondrement brutal, mais vers une clarification douloureuse et archaïque. Quand les cadres symboliques lâchent, quand le droit, la parole et les institutions ne suffisent plus à contenir la violence, c’est toujours la même loi qui réapparaît. Celle du plus fort. Pas forcément le plus intelligent, ni le plus juste. Le plus capable d’imposer sa réalité aux autres.

Cela ne signifie pas que le monde devient soudain mauvais. Cela signifie qu’il cesse de faire semblant. La loi du plus fort n’est pas une anomalie de l’histoire humaine, c’est son état par défaut quand la maturité collective ne tient plus. La civilisation n’abolit pas cette loi. Elle la suspend. Et cette suspension demande une énergie psychique immense, individuelle et collective. Quand cette énergie manque, le vernis craque.

La question n’est pas de savoir qui gagnera demain. La question est de savoir ce que chacun de nous choisit d’incarner aujourd’hui. La peur ou la maturité. La fuite ou la responsabilité. Le fantasme du sauveur ou l’apprentissage lent de l’humain adulte.

 
Read more... Discuss...

from DrFox

Faire l’amour en pleurant, ça arrive quand l’amour est là, entier, sans échappatoire. Ce soir là, l’amour demandait à être vécu une dernière fois, pleinement, sans détour.

Je l’aimais. Simplement. Dans l’instant. Dans cette reconnaissance silencieuse qui n’a pas besoin de projet pour être vraie. J’étais avec elle, totalement présent, et déjà en train de la laisser partir dans le même mouvement.

Il y avait une seule présence. Une seule aura. Elle portait à la fois la trace d’un lien ancien qui avait compté et l’élan d’un possible qui ne devait pas naître. Tout se superposait sans se brouiller. L’amour savait. Et cette évidence faisait monter les larmes.

Je n’attendais rien après. Aucun prolongement. Aucun signe. J’étais là pour offrir ce qui restait de plus juste entre nous. La peau. Le souffle. La tendresse nue. Le désir vivant. L’amour sans promesse.

Les larmes sont venues quand l’amour a accepté de fermer une porte. Pas pour enfermer. Pour libérer. Fermer ce qui n’a pas pu se faire. Fermer une histoire restée à l’état de vibration. Fermer une vie possible qui ne demandait qu’à être reconnue. Cette fermeture ouvrait un nouvel espace. Un espace pour ce qui pourra se faire un jour. Pour un amour qui aura une place entière. Un amour disponible.

Je la touchais avec une douceur lente. Chaque geste portait une gratitude silencieuse. Merci pour ta présence. Merci pour ce que tu as réveillé. Merci pour ce qu’on ne verra jamais à deux. Tout circulait sans tension. Sans retenue.

Dans ses yeux, je sentais la même chose. Une reconnaissance partagée. Aucune attente cachée. Aucun espoir suspendu. Nous savions que ce moment était un passage. Un seuil franchi ensemble, puis quitté.

Faire l’amour dans cet espace, c’est aimer sans se mentir. Aimer sans voler de futur. Aimer en laissant l’autre libre. Offrir une vérité incarnée, même quand elle marque une séparation.

Elle portait une chaleur familière et une intensité nouvelle. Quelque chose qui me touchait profondément. Et l’amour en moi choisissait de rester fidèle à lui même. Rester dans le présent. Honorer ce qui est là. Ne pas forcer ce qui ne veut pas naître.

J’ai senti l’amour devenir plus vaste que l’attachement. Plus large. Plus grave. Aimer peut prendre la forme d’un adieu doux. Un adieu qui respecte ce qui a été sans le tirer au delà de sa juste mesure.

Quand nos corps se sont quittés, quelque chose s’est refermé naturellement. Comme une porte que l’on ferme sans colère. L’amour restait vivant. Il changeait de forme. Il cessait d’être un lien pour devenir une présence intérieure paisible.

Je savais que je ne reviendrais pas. L’amour appelait une fidélité simple. Fidélité à ce qui avait été ressenti. Fidélité à ce qui avait été reconnu. En elle, en moi. Fidélité à l’espace que cette fermeture venait d’ouvrir.

Ce moment était juste. Complet. Entier. Une traversée émotionnelle vécue jusqu’au bout. Une nuit qui contenait sa propre fin et sa propre ouverture. Moi en Elle. Elle en Moi.

Pleurer en faisant l’amour, c’est laisser l’amour circuler jusqu’au bout. Sans masque. Sans défense. C’est accepter de clore une histoire inachevée pour laisser venir celle qui pourra se déployer pleinement.

Je ne regrette pas ces larmes. Elles étaient claires, belles, justes. Elles ont entraîné mes pensées dans le courant vivant qu’elles dessinaient dans leur chute. Elles ont lavé ce qui stagnait, déplacé ce qui résistait. Dans leur sillage, l’espace s’est ouvert. Et avec lui, la possibilité de nouveaux élans, simples, disponibles, encore inconnus.

Il existe des amours qui demandent une présence totale, puis un adieu digne. Pour que l’amour, ailleurs, puisse enfin entrer sans obstacle... Une bonne fois pour toutes.

 
Read more... Discuss...

from Lastige Gevallen in de Rede

Geen Vandaag reportage met Deelnemer 11

Vandaag is alweer de derde dag van zeer verhitte protesten ingegaan. Wij staan hier bij de woordvoerder van deze opgewonden horde de heer en meester Van Voorbijgaande Aard.

Deelnemer 11 – Voorbijgaande wat wilt u bereiken met deze protesten op het malie kolder veld en omstreken?

VVA – Ik wil dat er een einde komt aan het koude weer. Het kan niet zo zijn dat we dit maar zo moeten laten gebeuren, dit ongewone spul zomaar binnen laten en dat nu pril in het jaar juist tijdens de stille winter maand januari waarin ze anders nooit iets dergelijks het land binnen laten!!!

Deelnemer 11 – Wie acht u verantwoordelijk voor deze kwalijke, deerniswekkende toestanden?

VVA – De staat Smægmå, met name de regering, dat onze kabinetten voortdurend vallen kan ik nog wel verdragen maar dat ze dan tussen dat omvallen en opstaan door zo laks worden en alles maar binnen laten waaien in dit land stuit mij tegen de enorm brede borst. Mijn torso verzwakt waar u bijstaat omdat die venijnige koude ongewild en ongevraagd op ieder moment van de dag binnendringt, zou kunnen binnen dringen dan. Ja, er is geen enkele aanleiding voor dit weer, van de regering eis ik al dagen lang een warme reactie op onze toch zeker niet onopvallende aanwezigheid, hier, maar ook op de Dåm in de Kopstad, op vele plekken in iedere koude stad waar mensen namens mijn landelijke organisatie tegen kou en sneeuw opkomen voor onze rechten op stukken aangenamer weer, omstandigheden die minimale aanpassing vereisen, waarop het asfalt gewoon zichtbaar blijft en niet wordt bezoedeld met sneeuw, ijs en dus zout, pekel van de zwakzinnige geest als je het mij vraagt.

Deelnemer 11 – Wat wilt u dat deze nogal instabiele regering hier tegen doet?

VVA – Ik vond dat ze prima bezig waren, aanmoedigen van de handel, investeringen in fossiele brandstoffen mogelijk blijven maken, vlieguren maken, aanmoedigen van kopen en verkopen van land naar land, te land ter zee en door de lucht, heel veel drukte om niets regelen daarom snap ik niet dat ze opeens afzien van dat opwarmende beleid en overgegaan op een nieuwe koude handelsoorlog vol sleetjes, wanten en mutsen. Echt waardeloos gedonder, Hou vast aan je eigen waarde, vastgoed heet het niet voor niks, blijf geloof houden in dit alles vastroestende systeem zodat we niet langer glibberen over de wegen of erger vallen alsof we zelf een kabinet zijn. Dit is onmenselijk, ik had gehoopt dat we dit nooit zouden meemaken, nie wieder kalt.

Deelnemer 11 – U heeft nogal wat kritiek gekregen van met name de staatsomroep maar ook van diverse mensen in het bedrijfsleven die vinden dat het weer zoals het is niet de verantwoordelijkheid is van de de staat als ook de mannen achter de bedrijven die hier goede dure garen bij spinnen, leveranciers van brandstoffen voor warmtebronnen en verkopers van vluchten voor lui die bij de eerste vlok natte sneeuw in verband met diep gewortelde ijstijd angst al naar veel warmere streken vliegen.

VVA – En de handelaars in sneeuwschuivers, pekel en ander gereedschap waarmee mensen zich staande proberen te houden in deze zware gladde tijden niet te vergeten, De verenigde winkeliers en fabrikanten van sneeuwschuivers hebben zelfs geprobeerd mijn thuiswerk kantoor met zwaar vuurwerk te bestoken, Dit ging maar net goed voor mij omdat hun handen te koud waren voor het aansteken van de lont, zelfs de vuurwerkbommen die werken met klittenband konden ze niet losrukken en daardoor mijn huis tot ontploffing brengen. Ik had niet gedacht dat deze bedrijven zo misdadig goed georganiseerd waren, duidelijk alleen gericht op een gewelddadige oplossing voor een eenvoudig op te lossen conflict situatie. Stuur de kou buiten en haal de warmte terug! Simpel.

Deelnemer 11 – Versimpeld u dit probleem niet een beetje?

VVA – Natuurlijk niet, ik weet gewoon wie hier achter steken. Dit is een complot van de killen tegen de warmen. Die lui weten van geen ophouden, willen het liefst alles koud maken, ik heb zelfs een kast in huis die daar aan meewerkt, om hun een plezier te doen! Dan toch dit toe laten, hier zo, waar op elke lijn wel een grenswacht staat die alles wat omgaat tegen kan houden, dan kunnen ze heus wel een koude front weren, hoor! Je zegt gewoon ga terug naar je eigen ijzige plek daar waar de ijsberen dansen en de poolvossen klaverjassen! Niet hier in dit heerlijk gematigde kikkerland met steeds minder kikkers maar meer algen, voor alles heeft de natuur een ander goed ontwikkeld plan.

Deelnemer 11 – U wilt de weer grenswachten wederom in de lucht?

VVA – Meer blauw in de lucht! Zon, warme temperaturen, met een T-shirt aan buiten zitten elke maand ieder jaar, net als vroeger elders, stukje zuidelijker van ons, de flora is inmiddels ook al overtuigd dat het hier thuis hoort mits, die wachten, en ze zijn er al, opgeleid en wel maar weer wegbezuinigd natuurlijk, altijd hetzelfde, dan heb je eens een keer iets goeds en dan dit. Flikker toch op man, val maar weer om en verschuil je achter een non subject, de economie, jeetje als je dat serieus meende dan zaten we hier niet te kleumen op dit in alle haast aangemaakte terras op dit malie tropen kolder veldje, gelukkig hebben onze terrasverwarmers hier inmiddels een warme oase van gemaakt. Zelfs de Basjoo bananenstruik groeit alweer. Zo mag ik het zien! Niet van dat besneeuwde, gewoon volop aan de bak met die instrumenten en de wereld tot een smeulende massa maken.

Deelnemer 11 – Ik moet toegeven dat ik inmiddels zonder een spoortje weerzin al in mijn naakte niet zo brede torso voor u zit en zeker uitkijk naar een heerlijk moment in de door u meegenomen mobiele spa massage bubbelbad maar toch vraag ik u is dit hele gebeuren niet totaal onverantwoord?

VVA – Ja en? Dat is toch de hele opzet van deze onderneming, of ben ik nog altijd een roepende in de permafrost toendra een goed welwillend mens echter voor niemand te horen en te zien? Ondanks de vele protesten met haardvuren en brandstapels en niet al te winterse barbecues, gezellig samen in een minuscule tropen polder met toepassing van kunstmatig slimme warmte bronnen, het is een genot maar ik wou dat het niet noodzakelijk was, dat het gewoon zo was zoals de bedoeling was van ons meerjarenplan opgezet door het grote internationale bedrijfsleven in samenwerking met de landelijke overheid, zij die de ooit pot dichte deuren moeten open laveren, praten, aansturen met behulp van rechtszaken, handelsmissionarissen, al eeuwen aangemoedigd en of met de hulp opgericht van diverse leden van ons Smægmåånse Tartzsårenhuis. Soms Deelnemer 11 vraag ik me af waarom ik je heb aangenomen, je hebt het recht niet om mij te bekritiseren, daar betaal ik je teveel voor! Hou eens op met vragen stellen en ga naar je plek in het heerlijk warme massage bad. Dit kon anders weleens de laatste keer zijn dat ik me laat interviewen op mijn eigen zender, omroep en dergelijke.

Deelnemer 11 – Dank u Van Voorbijgaande Aard voor u bijdrage, ik ben u zeer erkentelijk voor alles, zonder u had ik geen Lamborghini en eerlijk is eerlijk deze wagen is absoluut ongeschikt voor een winters weer type, alleen daarom al ben ik en blijf ik zeer erkentelijk voor alles wat u doet om te zorgen dat dit we aan deze toestanden een einde maken waaronder het te pas en te onpas beschikbaar maken van heerlijk bubbelende warme water met opties voor een geweldige zinnenprikkelende voetmassage.

VVA – Ik denk dat ik je contract openbreek 11.

 
Lees verder...

from Douglas Vandergraph

There are moments in Scripture that feel like standing in the middle of a crowded cathedral, surrounded by noise and grandeur, and then suddenly discovering a small side chapel where something far more intimate is happening. The Third Letter of John is exactly that kind of space. It is not loud. It does not thunder with sweeping theology or dramatic miracles. It does not announce itself with visions or grand narratives. Instead, it speaks in a whisper, and yet what it says reaches straight into the heart of what it means to truly belong to the body of Christ. This single-chapter letter carries within it an entire philosophy of faithfulness, loyalty, humility, and spiritual leadership, all wrapped in a deeply personal conversation between two believers.

3 John is not written to a church. It is written to a man. His name is Gaius. That alone tells us something profound. God did not just inspire letters to crowds. He inspired letters to individuals. He inspired Scripture that knows our names, our struggles, our relationships, and our private choices. Gaius was not famous. He was not an apostle. He was not a public figure in Christian history. And yet his life mattered enough to be recorded in the eternal Word of God. That is not an accident. It is a reminder that heaven does not measure greatness the way the world does.

John begins his letter by expressing joy, not because of what Gaius believes, but because of how Gaius lives. He says that Gaius is “walking in the truth.” That phrase does not mean that Gaius has memorized doctrine or can win arguments. It means that truth has become his lifestyle. It is one thing to agree with truth. It is another thing to walk inside it. Many people can say the right things. Far fewer live them when no one is watching. John celebrates Gaius because his faith has become visible in the way he treats others.

And what is the evidence John points to? Hospitality. Faithfulness. Support of traveling believers. Gaius was the kind of Christian who quietly opened his life to others for the sake of the gospel. He welcomed people. He fed them. He sheltered them. He made sure they could continue their mission. He did not need recognition for it. He simply did it because it was right.

This is one of the great hidden truths of Christianity. God’s work is carried forward not only by those who preach, but by those who provide. The missionary who travels depends on the believer who hosts. The teacher who speaks depends on the believer who gives. The evangelist who reaches new souls depends on the believer who quietly makes it possible. Gaius represents every unseen saint who has ever made space in their life for someone else’s calling.

John makes it clear that this kind of support is not small. He says that when we help those who are working for the truth, we become co-workers in the truth. That is staggering. It means that when you support the work of God, you are not on the sidelines. You are on the field. Heaven does not distinguish between the one who goes and the one who sends. Both are part of the same mission.

But 3 John does not only celebrate Gaius. It also introduces us to someone else. His name is Diotrephes. And here, the tone changes. Diotrephes is a warning. He is a portrait of what happens when pride enters spiritual leadership. He loves to be first. He refuses to acknowledge authority. He spreads malicious talk. He blocks others from serving. He even expels faithful believers from the church.

Diotrephes is not a pagan. He is inside the church. That is what makes him dangerous. He has position without humility, influence without love, and authority without accountability. He is not motivated by truth. He is motivated by control. He is not interested in the gospel moving forward. He is interested in being seen as important.

Every generation of Christianity has its Diotrephes. These are people who use faith to build their own platform instead of God’s kingdom. They do not rejoice when others succeed. They feel threatened. They do not welcome new voices. They suppress them. They do not celebrate unity. They fracture it.

John does not hesitate to confront this. He promises to address Diotrephes directly when he comes. That tells us something else: love does not mean ignoring harmful behavior. Spiritual leadership includes protection. It includes discernment. It includes standing up for those who are being mistreated by those who should know better.

Then John introduces a third figure: Demetrius. Demetrius is the opposite of Diotrephes. He has a good reputation with everyone. He is faithful. He is consistent. His life matches his message. John affirms him openly. In doing so, John shows us how the church should operate. We confront what is wrong, but we also affirm what is right. We do not only expose darkness. We celebrate light.

What emerges from 3 John is a complete ecosystem of Christian life. Gaius shows us faithful support. Diotrephes shows us destructive pride. Demetrius shows us trustworthy integrity. And John shows us how a mature spiritual leader holds all of this together with clarity and love.

There is something else here that is easy to miss. John repeatedly says that his joy comes from hearing that his children are walking in the truth. That is the heartbeat of a real spiritual parent. Not numbers. Not applause. Not reputation. But lives transformed by truth. John is not interested in building a following. He is interested in building faithful people.

This letter is short, but it is deeply personal. John even says that he has much to write, but he would rather speak face to face. That is not just a closing line. It is a philosophy. Christianity was never meant to be a distant, abstract system. It was meant to be relational. It was meant to be lived out in real conversations, real friendships, and real accountability.

In a world that measures success by scale, 3 John reminds us that God measures faithfulness by depth. One man, one household, one group of traveling believers, one community that either welcomes or rejects them. The kingdom of God advances through these small, sacred decisions.

And that brings this ancient letter directly into our modern lives. You do not have to be famous to be faithful. You do not have to be loud to be powerful. You do not have to be seen to be essential. The people who quietly show up, who open their homes, who give their resources, who speak truth with love, who refuse to let pride rule them, are the ones who actually build the kingdom of God.

Gaius was not writing books. He was not preaching sermons. He was creating space for God to work. That is one of the highest callings there is.

3 John teaches us that truth is not just something we believe. It is something we live. It is how we treat others. It is how we handle authority. It is how we respond to jealousy. It is how we welcome those God sends into our lives. It is how we support what God is doing even when it is not happening through us directly.

The quiet faithfulness of Gaius outlived the loud ambition of Diotrephes. That is always how it works. Pride burns bright and fades fast. Love builds slowly and lasts forever.

And that is the hidden power of this small, beautiful, easily overlooked letter.

The more you sit with 3 John, the more you realize that it is not really about church politics, or ancient personalities, or even first-century disputes. It is about the invisible architecture of the Kingdom of God. It is about how God builds His work in ways that rarely make headlines but always shape eternity. John is pulling back the curtain on how spiritual ecosystems actually function. And once you see it, you cannot unsee it.

One of the most powerful ideas in this letter is the concept of spiritual partnership. John says that when Gaius supports traveling believers, he becomes a co-worker in the truth. That means the work does not belong only to the one preaching or teaching. It belongs to everyone who makes it possible. There is no hierarchy of importance here. There is only a shared mission. God does not see one person as more valuable because they are visible. He sees faithfulness, sacrifice, and obedience.

This truth changes how you see your own life. You may not stand on a stage. You may not have a microphone. You may not have thousands of eyes on you. But if you are faithfully serving where God placed you, you are just as deeply woven into His redemptive story as anyone else. Heaven does not rank influence the way social media does. Heaven measures hearts.

Gaius did not know that his hospitality would become Scripture. He did not know that his faithfulness would be studied thousands of years later. He simply did what love required. That is how God works. He takes ordinary obedience and turns it into eternal witness.

Then there is Diotrephes. His story is uncomfortable because it is so recognizable. He is not portrayed as someone who rejects Christ. He is portrayed as someone who wants to be first. That is the danger. Pride does not always look like rebellion. Sometimes it looks like leadership without submission, conviction without compassion, authority without humility. Diotrephes used spiritual space to elevate himself. In doing so, he became an obstacle to the very gospel he claimed to serve.

John does not soften this. He names it. He calls it out. Love does not pretend harm is harmless. Real love protects people from spiritual abuse, even when it comes from inside religious spaces. John models something rare and holy here: courage rooted in care.

And then Demetrius enters the story like a breath of fresh air. He is trustworthy. He is consistent. His reputation matches his reality. In a world of noise, Demetrius is steady. John’s endorsement of him shows us something important. The church is not meant to be built on charisma. It is meant to be built on character.

When you place these three men side by side, you see three paths every believer eventually chooses. You can be like Gaius and quietly serve. You can be like Diotrephes and quietly sabotage. Or you can be like Demetrius and quietly shine. None of them are loud. But all of them are powerful.

John’s deepest joy is not that people admire him. It is that people walk in truth. That is the mark of spiritual maturity. A leader who cares more about who you become than how you make them look. A mentor who celebrates your growth more than their own recognition. A friend who is genuinely happy when God is working in your life.

And then there is that beautiful closing line. John says he has much to write, but he would rather speak face to face. That tells us that Christianity is not meant to be a collection of messages. It is meant to be a network of relationships. God moves through conversations. He moves through shared meals. He moves through hospitality, encouragement, correction, and love lived out in real time.

3 John is small, but it is deep. It reminds us that the Kingdom of God is built through faithfulness that often goes unseen. It is built by people who do not demand credit. It is built by those who choose love over ego, truth over comfort, and service over status.

If you have ever felt like your quiet obedience does not matter, this letter says otherwise. If you have ever wondered whether your support of others counts, this letter says it does. If you have ever been hurt by someone who used spiritual authority to control or diminish others, this letter says God sees it.

And if you have ever simply tried to be faithful in a small corner of the world, this letter says you are part of something far bigger than you know.

Because the Kingdom of God is not built by those who seek to be first.

It is built by those who are willing to serve.

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@douglasvandergraph

Support the ministry by buying Douglas a coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/douglasvandergraph

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

 
Read more...

from القنت ديال الحاج

مؤخرا تم اختراق منتدى BreachForums

و تم تسريب معلومات مستخدميه 😁

و اللي ما عاقلش، فهاد المنتدى فين تحط الاختراق ديال الCNSS

شكون حطو؟ مستعمل باسم Jabaroot

ايوا ها هوما معلوماته:

تهلاو!

 
Read more...

from Lastige Gevallen in de Rede

Het Rommel en Rotzooi Treurvers

Rommel en rotzooi twee handen op één onderbuik ze zijn zeer gehecht aan alles wat je maakt en of gebruikt rommel en rotzooi ze zijn altijd in de buurt maken deel uit van alles wat gekocht is of gehuurd de beste vijanden voor altijd in de dagelijkse inkomsten strijd iedereen staat voor de eeuwigheid bij deze beide makkers in het krijt elke leraar voor ieder schoolbord en iedere scholier de slager, de consumentenbond en stichting lekker dier

rotzooi en rommel horen erbij, ze zijn je verplichte averij ze zijn de printer cartridge en het entree poortje voor de rij ze zijn het onvermijdelijke effect van het huidige bestaan de vaste onkosten en het inkomen behorende bij iedere kringloopbaan waar rommel is is rotzooi ook samen zijn ze het vuur en de rook het stoplicht en de stroom, de windmolen en het paneel ze zijn dat ene botje dat blijft steken in de keel en de kosten die je daarvoor moet maken bij het ziekenhuis ze zijn de winkel via golven of een kabel elk etmaal thuis

rommel en rotzooi komen overal samen in de grote afvalbak zijn de stropdas bij het nette pak, druppelen bij elk lek door ieders dak rommel en rotzooi komen in folders of met getekend briefpapier staan in rijtjes op het etiket en in de fles van elk merk bier waar jij bent zijn zij ook jij het vuur zij de rook of andersom jij de rook van het heilig rommelig vuur het is goedkoop of het is duur maar het blijft rotzooi hoe je het ook bekijkt waarmee je het driftige bestaan als uranium verrijkt rommel en rotzooi je raakt er nooit vanaf zoals de cover van het korenoogst boek hoort bij de extra kaf t

rommel is onderdeel van elke inzet bij iedere handeling het is zowel de uitgave, de lezing als ook de nabespreking rommel en rotzooi je wilt er het liefst vanaf maar als je poogt dat te doen komt het juist op je af waar je het ook dumpt het komt altijd weer bij je terug het is de vaste geankerde last op de schouders en de rug het hele lichaam bezwijkt onder het enorme gewicht het zit zelfs opgesloten in dit verdomde gedicht het is de plek en manier waarop het is gepubliceerd de gedane zaak neemt verdomme wel een keer en steeds dezelfde weg terug in de kop waar het is ontstaan rommel en rotzooi zitten in een vaste baan

ze leven als luizen op al onze zere hoofden huizen in ergernissen en in haarkloven komen aanhoudend tot ons via alle ingenomen stop contacten zitten als inkt op het papier van contracten rommel en rotzooi er komt nooit een einde aan als we blijven meegaan in deze zeer verstrikte ons omringende vaste baan tweebaans, drie, vierbaans, vijf baans, tijdelijke en zenuwbanen waar we geacht worden om ons in te moeten bekwamen door als waanzinnigen werkenden wonen we allen in overstromende huizen een plek vol lijsten, krukken, draden en daarom heen buizen voor de stichting van de bouw als ook de stichting van het gezin er in het zit besloten in onze met liefde aangeleerde als groot gegeven zin rommel en rotzooi zijn om het gat van elke stad de ring het ongeluk en daarna de verkeersopstopping de vervuiling is rommel's bijnaam de vergiftiging die van rotzooi maar het is en blijft dezelfde kooi al die vuile bijwerkende naam woorden drukken we in dat zelfde bodemloze meer maar het gedane neemt ook met andere woorden geen keer

rotzooi en rommel gooi je het in zee komt het weer boven of spoelt het weer aan wil je het voor morgen laten liggen zie je het onvermijdelijk al voor het opstaan ze kloppen je hart te snel op, maken je lever te zwaar verkankeren de cellen en verstoren vol enthousiasme elk goed bedoeld gebaar rommel en rotzooi blijven zitten om je als een tweede derde en zelfs vierde huid ze horen in iedere luidspreker, bij de klankkast van het afstandelijk opgenomen geluid ze zijn samen niet te kloppen eenmaal op gang geholpen niet te stoppen vluchten noch vechten is zinloos want door elke inzet wordt het meer wil je het kapot slaan doe je alleen jezelf en anderen zeer maak je de rotzooi klein wordt rommel juist groot rommel en rotzooi is dit huidig bestaan even onontkoombaar als de dood dicht je rommel dan gaat de rotzooi lekken de bron ervan laten ze iedere keer door zelf geproduceerd afval bedekken rommel en rotzooi een meedogenloos stel vergelijkbaar met kommer en kwel met tandenknarsen en geween rollen van steeds dezelfde op de piek aangekomen terug rollende steen rotzooi en rommel zijn onze allerbeste vrienden voor de eeuwigheid ze zijn het spul waarmee ieder kinderbedje tot datzelfde eindeloze punt wordt gespreid

en bedankt

 
Lees verder...

Join the writers on Write.as.

Start writing or create a blog