Joshua Ertle Music

Jesus, Jelly Roll, and the Politics of Grace

I have never really been a Jelly Roll fan, at least not musically. I don't regularly listen to his songs, I probably know one or two of them, and until fairly recently I wasn't paying much attention to his career.

What caught my attention was his story. Addiction, arrests, prison, bad decisions, regret, and years he can't get back are all parts of his life that he talks about openly, and now he's talking openly about God, redemption, and surrender.

His friendship with Brandon Lake especially caught my attention. When Brandon helped write Hard Fought Hallelujah, he said he wanted somebody on the song whose life actually carried the weight of it, and Jelly Roll was the person who came to mind.

Jelly Roll had already heard a preview and loved it, and when Brandon reached out, they spent the first hour talking about marriage, fatherhood, touring, and staying grounded. The music almost came second.

Their friendship continued afterward, and Jelly Roll has talked about how Brandon's friendship and faith encouraged him to speak more openly about his own relationship with God. For some people, a hallelujah really is hard fought, and people who have lived through rehab, jail cells, shame, and consequences can hear pieces of themselves in his story.

Maybe that's why the reaction to him lately has gotten under my skin. I don't expect everybody to agree with him politically, but some of the reaction has gone far beyond simply saying, “I think Jelly Roll is wrong about this.”

During his guest hosting run on Jimmy Kimmel Live, he made jokes about Donald Trump and later spoke more seriously about faith, compassion, human dignity, immigration, and how politics has turned Americans against one another.

When I watched that, my first thought wasn't that Jelly Roll had somehow betrayed Christianity. I thought he was saying some things Christians should at least be willing to hear without immediately deciding which political tribe he belongs to.

Shaking Donald Trump's hand doesn't mean endorsing everything Trump does, and going on Jimmy Kimmel's show doesn't mean adopting everything Kimmel believes. We shouldn't turn every political disagreement into a test of somebody's spiritual loyalty.

I'm also not dismissing border security. I'm for a strong border because a country has a responsibility to know who is entering, enforce its laws, protect its citizens, and fight trafficking and smuggling.

I don't believe compassion requires chaos. Loving immigrants doesn't mean pretending borders don't matter, and supporting strong enforcement doesn't require forgetting that human beings made in the image of God are caught up in these issues.

I may not frame immigration exactly the way Jelly Roll does, but that doesn't mean I need to treat him like he denied the gospel.

Jelly Roll isn't a pastor or an elder charged with guarding a congregation, teaching doctrine, and shepherding people every week. Scripture holds teachers to a stricter standard, and Jelly Roll has not taken that office.

He's a musician with a very public, messy past who is talking about Jesus while millions watch his life unfold. If you think he's wrong about immigration, say so, but jumping from “I disagree with Jelly Roll about the border” to “maybe his conversion isn't real” is a completely different judgment.

I'm unapologetically pro life, and that's why I don't want politicians getting a free pass either. I can be thankful that Donald Trump's Supreme Court appointments helped create the majority that overturned Roe v. Wade while still disagreeing where I believe he falls short on protecting unborn life.

I don't hate Donald Trump, and I don't have to pretend nothing good happened because of his presidency. But he's a politician, not an apostle, and I don't want criticism of him treated like criticism of Jesus.

I keep thinking about Cyrus. God used a ruler who wasn't Israel's spiritual example to accomplish something important for His people, but Israel wasn't told to make Cyrus the measuring stick for godliness.

I'm not claiming Trump is literally some modern Cyrus. I just think God can use a flawed political leader without asking Christians to defend everything that leader says or does.

Then I look back at Jelly Roll, and this is what really bothers me. We can find enormous patience for powerful politicians whose policies we support, but somebody with Jelly Roll's past says something politically inconvenient and suddenly people are ready to inspect every corner of his Christianity.

People outside the church see that too. They hear us preach about grace, mercy, forgiveness, restoration, and loving one another, and then they watch what happens when a Christian says something politically uncomfortable.

If we celebrate Jelly Roll's testimony when he talks about Jesus and then tear him apart the moment his politics disappoint us, what does that communicate? It can start to look like what mattered wasn't whether he loved Christ, but whether he stayed useful to our side.

That would be a shame because his testimony reaches people many churches will never reach on a Sunday morning. His arrests, addiction, prison, and wasted years are part of what makes the grace in his story visible.

There are men in county jails, recovering addicts, and former inmates who may never walk into a church but will listen when Jelly Roll talks about Jesus.

His story gives him a way of reaching people who recognize their own scars in his. That doesn't make him more important than a faithful pastor or the Christian quietly serving people nobody notices, but his testimony has a particular reach.

That's why I'm uncomfortable watching Christians tear him down over politics. We can disagree with him without acting like everything God has done through his testimony suddenly disappears because he said something about immigration or made a joke about Donald Trump.

We can simply say, “I think you're wrong about this.” We don't need to add, “and now I'm wondering whether anything you've said about Jesus was real.”

Hard Fought Hallelujah comes back into the picture for me here. Brandon wanted somebody who had actually lived the struggle behind it, and their friendship grew out of that.

The song then went places Christian music doesn't always go. People who may never search for worship music heard something about struggle, surrender, and still bringing your hallelujah to God after life has beaten you up.

I can simply be thankful for that. I don't feel the need to immediately follow it with a disclaimer about Jelly Roll not being perfect because, of course, none of us are.

Paul's words in Galatians 6 keep coming to mind. Even when a brother genuinely needs correction, the goal is restoration, and the person doing the correcting is supposed to pay attention to his own heart too.

That's very different from waiting for somebody to say the wrong political thing and then rushing online to declare his Christianity fake. Sometimes what we call discernment can become an excuse to enjoy judging somebody.

Jelly Roll is growing in his walk with Christ, just like I am and just like every Christian should be. I actually think much of what he said about dignity, mercy, and refusing to turn Christianity into a political identity was worth hearing.

There have also been rumors about whether he might eventually walk away from music, and I don't want to build an argument around speculation. What he has actually said is meaningful enough.

He has talked about being willing to walk away from music if he genuinely believed God called him somewhere else, even if that meant serving quietly in a homeless shelter instead of standing under stage lights.

I respect that because it sounds like somebody who understands that fame is something he has, not something that is supposed to own him. Personally, I hope he keeps making music unless God leads him somewhere else.

I may never become a big Jelly Roll listener, but I can see who his story reaches. I hope the Christians around him care about him when there isn't anything to gain from it.

I hope they pray with him, tell him the truth, stay close when fame gets weird, and don't disappear the first time he says something they wouldn't have said themselves.

Donald Trump isn't the standard for Jelly Roll's Christianity. Neither are JD Vance, Jimmy Kimmel, or whoever happens to dominate the political conversation that week.

Jesus is, and I think we get ourselves into trouble when we forget that.

I'm not writing this as a Jelly Roll superfan, and I probably still won't know most of his songs after I post this. But when I see a man with that kind of past talking about Jesus, speaking about surrender, and carrying a story of redemption in front of millions of people, my instinct isn't to go hunting through his politics for a reason to tear him down.

People are watching how Christians treat one another. I would much rather they see us disagree without destroying each other than watch us preach grace on Sunday and abandon it the moment politics enters the conversation.

A man can come through addiction, incarceration, brokenness, regret, and consequences and still stand before millions of people offering God a hard fought hallelujah. I think there's something beautiful about that.

And I hope the hallelujah keeps getting louder.

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Joshua Ertle Music

The Gospel Could Not Be Stopped

Recently, I heard a pastor say that some Christians can treat a five-billion-dollar salvation with a five-cent response.

That statement has stayed with me, mostly because it made me examine my own response to grace. 

Something can become familiar without becoming less wonderful, yet I know how easily I can lose sight of just how astonishing the Gospel is. 

Jesus gave Himself for our sins, and grace that great deserves more than my casual attention.

That is one reason I keep returning to Acts. Again and again, people try to silence the Gospel. Yet it continues to move through ordinary believers who open their homes, care for one another, and follow Jesus even when obedience becomes costly. 

Most of them could not have imagined how far their witness would eventually reach.

With its roads, ships, temples, and armies, Rome probably looked permanent. Yet the story begins not in a palace, but among a praying and worshiping Church in Antioch. Its prophets and teachers included Barnabas, Simeon, Lucius, Manaen, and Saul, also called Paul.

“While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, ‘Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.’” - Acts 13:2

The Church prayed, laid hands on Barnabas and Saul, and sent them to Cyprus. They could not know how far that simple act of obedience would reach.

Paul had once dragged Christians from their homes. Now, with Barnabas beside him, he proclaimed the Savior he had persecuted. From Cyprus they traveled to Pisidian Antioch, where Paul announced that Jesus was the promised Savior.

Many received the message with joy. Others drove them away. Jews and Gentiles believed in Iconium, but threats forced the missionaries to leave.

In Lystra, God used Paul to heal a man who had never walked. The crowd called Barnabas Zeus and Paul Hermes and prepared a sacrifice, but the missionaries tore their clothes and begged them to turn to the living God.

Soon, opponents turned the crowd against Paul. They stoned him, dragged him outside the city, and left him for dead.

The disciples gathered around Paul, and he got up. He returned to the city, then left for Derbe the next day.

After preaching in Derbe, they returned to encourage the new believers and appoint leaders.

“They strengthened the disciples and encouraged them to remain true to the faith. ‘We must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God,’ they said.” - Acts 14:22

They appointed elders in each Church and reported to Antioch how God had opened the door of faith to the Gentiles.

Some taught that Gentiles had to keep the Law of Moses to be saved, so the apostles and elders gathered in Jerusalem to defend Christ’s sufficiency.

Peter, one of the apostles, testified that God purified Gentile hearts by faith. Paul and Barnabas described His work, and James, a leader in Jerusalem, connected it with Scripture. The Church affirmed salvation through Jesus’ grace, not the Law.

Two church leaders, Judas Barsabbas and Silas, carried a letter to Antioch saying that “it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us” not to burden Gentile believers.

“Judas and Silas, who themselves were prophets, said much to encourage and strengthen the believers.” - Acts 15:32

They protected the truth and cared for people personally.

Paul and Barnabas later separated after disagreeing over John Mark, their former companion who had left them earlier. The mission continued: Barnabas took Mark to Cyprus while Paul chose Silas.

In Lystra, the disciple Timothy joined Paul and Silas. The Holy Spirit redirected them, and Paul’s vision of a Macedonian man confirmed their call to Macedonia.

In Philippi, a Roman colony, they found women gathered for prayer beside a river. Among them was Lydia, a purple-cloth dealer from Thyatira who worshiped God.

“The Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul’s message.” - Acts 16:14

She and her household were baptized, and she welcomed the missionaries into her home. Her hospitality and resources helped establish a Christian community.

Paul encountered an enslaved fortune-teller whose owners profited from her bondage.

Paul commanded the spirit to leave in Jesus Christ’s name. Furious at losing their income, her owners dragged Paul and Silas before the authorities.

Although both were Roman citizens, the magistrates had them stripped, beaten with rods, and imprisoned without a trial. Their feet were fastened in stocks inside the inner prison.

They had obeyed God, and now they sat wounded in a dark cell.

“About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them.” - Acts 16:25

Their wounds were fresh, yet they knew God was worthy before any door opened.

Then a violent earthquake shook the prison. The doors opened, and everyone’s chains came loose.

Assuming the prisoners had escaped, the jailer drew his sword to kill himself. Paul called out, “Don’t harm yourself! We are all here!” No one had fled.

Trembling, the jailer rushed inside and asked how he could be saved.

“They replied, ‘Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved—you and your household.’” - Acts 16:31

Paul and Silas spoke the Word to his household. The jailer washed their wounds, and he and his household were baptized.

“The jailer brought them into his house and set a meal before them; he was filled with joy because he had come to believe in God—he and his whole household.” - Acts 16:34

The man who had guarded them now cared for their wounds as a brother in Christ. Before leaving Philippi, Paul and Silas returned to the believers and encouraged them.

In Thessalonica, Paul explained that the Messiah had to suffer and rise.

“This Jesus I am proclaiming to you is the Messiah.” - Acts 17:3

Some Jews, God-fearing Greeks, and prominent women believed. Jason, one of the new believers, welcomed Paul and Silas into his home. 

A mob searching for them attacked his house. Unable to find the missionaries, the crowd dragged Jason and others before the city officials and accused them of proclaiming another King, Jesus.

Jesus was their King, and no earthly ruler could occupy His place.

That night, believers sent Paul and Silas to Berea. Timothy was with them soon afterward, while the Thessalonian Church remained where the opposition had begun.

“They received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.” - Acts 17:11

Their example still challenges me. I want that kind of faith—eager to receive God’s Word, but grounded enough to test what I hear against Scripture. When opponents arrived, Paul left while Silas and Timothy remained.

In Corinth, Paul met Aquila and Priscilla, a married couple and fellow tentmakers, and reasoned in the synagogue.

“Crispus, the synagogue leader, and his entire household believed in the Lord; and many of the Corinthians who heard Paul believed and were baptized.” - Acts 18:8

Corinth may not have looked like a promising place for a church, but Jesus was already at work there. The Lord told Paul not to be afraid because He had many people in the city. Paul stayed for a year and a half, teaching God’s Word.

In Ephesus, former sorcerers burned their scrolls, and changes that threatened the trade surrounding the temple of Artemis changed lives.

Paul later met the Ephesian elders at Miletus. He was traveling toward Jerusalem even though the Holy Spirit warned that prison and hardship awaited him.

“I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.” - Acts 20:24

Those words make me examine how seriously I take what God has entrusted to me. Paul knew suffering was ahead, but finishing his work mattered more than protecting his comfort.

Paul warned the elders that false teachers would come. When he finished, they prayed, wept, and embraced him because he had said they would never see his face again.

Paul went on to Jerusalem, where he was arrested. He testified before rulers, appealed to Caesar, survived a shipwreck, ministered on Malta, and eventually arrived in Rome under guard.

For two years, Paul lived in his own rented house and welcomed everyone who came to see him. Rome could restrict his movements, but it could not imprison the Word of God.

“He proclaimed the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ—with all boldness and without hindrance!”
Acts 28:31

The Gospel survived opposition, prison, disagreement, violence, and shipwreck because its power never depended on human strength. The risen Jesus was still at work through the Holy Spirit and ordinary people who trusted Him.

Most believers in Acts had no idea how far their obedience would reach. Nearly two thousand years later, Christians follow Jesus in countries Paul never visited and among people whose languages he never heard.

That encourages me because I may never see everything God does through the opportunities He gives me. A conversation, an open home, a prayer, a creative ability, a resource, or an audience can help someone hear about Jesus. 

I want to place whatever influence I have in God’s hands and use it faithfully for the Gospel.

When I think again about the pastor’s words, this is the response I want to give. I could never repay God’s grace, but I do not want to live as though it means very little. I want to take Jesus seriously and keep pointing people toward the One who saved me.

The Roman rulers died, their armies changed, and temples that once dominated cities eventually fell. The prison could not silence Christ’s message, the mob could not destroy His Church, and the empire could not remove the King from His throne. 

The Gospel is still moving, Christ is still building His Church, and the King still reigns.

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Joshua Ertle Music

The King Has Not Forgotten His People

I love hearing a congregation sing together to praise the Lord. Some people thank Him because their prayers have been answered. Others sing out of grief, even when they cannot find the right words.

Even if we do not know much about the person next to us, we still sing together. As we focus on Jesus, we remind ourselves that He is still King.

For the believers in Thessalonica, following Jesus was risky. Jason welcomed Paul and Silas, and soon a mob came to his house in search of them.

The book of Acts states that the crowd went to Jason's house. When they could not find Paul and Silas, they took Jason and the other believers before the local authorities and accused them of defying Caesar by obeying another king, Jesus. That night the believers sent Paul and Silas off to Berea, while they remained in the city where the difficulties had started.

Because opposition followed them to Berea as well, the believers sent Paul away while Silas remained with Timothy. Since they had been separated, Paul worried about the people they had led to Christ and later sent Timothy back to encourage them and find out whether their faith was still standing.

Timothy returned with good news: the people were still trusting Jesus, loving each other, and hoping to see their friends again. Paul had feared the pressure would ruin their work, but the faith of these young believers encouraged him in his own struggles.

When the letter of 2 Thessalonians arrived, the believers were still facing persecution. Paul, Silas, and Timothy were mentioned at the start because they had worked with these believers and shared in their hardships.

Paul thanked God because “your faith is growing more and more, and the love all of you have for one another is increasing.”
2 Thessalonians 1:3, NIV.

You can picture love growing when a believer opens their door to someone who is afraid of being alone and invites them to share a meal. Hard times can deepen their care for each other. Paul later told other churches about their perseverance.

Paul prayed that God would strengthen their faith and help them do good, so their lives would honor Jesus. Even friends who could not stay with them kept praying for them.

Their hope went beyond those hard times to the future return of Christ, a day they looked forward to, just as we do now. Jesus will come from heaven with His mighty angels in flaming fire. Those who troubled His people will face judgment, while those who suffered will find relief and stand in awe before Him.

The King whose name brought accusations against them will return in glory. God saw what happened at Jason's house and all the suffering His people went through afterward.

The promise of justice is especially meaningful for Pastor Josiah in Nigeria. According to Open Doors' August 2026 report, he keeps photos of his family and remembers their lives.

His wife Rebekah worked hard and welcomed guests. Jonathan was full of energy. Timothy was quiet and resourceful. Rowland loved singing in the church band.

Rowland’s love for singing stands out to me because worship music is important in my life too. I never heard his voice, but I know how a voice can become part of our memories. Now, his father holds a photo of the son who once sang with the congregation.

Extremists killed Rebekah and captured Josiah, his two sons, and his daughter, holding them for two and a half months. The captors threatened Josiah even for bowing his head, so he prayed silently in his heart. Jonathan and Timothy were killed. After Josiah and his daughter returned home, more attacks led to the deaths of Rowland and Josiah’s younger brother.

Psalm 42 describes a situation much like his. Even though his captors mocked his faith and asked where Jesus was, he kept praying. Remembering worship during such sorrow gives those old words a meaning I am only starting to understand.

Thousands of families in Nigeria are suffering great losses. According to EWTN, over 7,000 Christians were killed in the first seven months of 2026, and thousands more were kidnapped. Open Doors' 2026 report says that more than 388 million Christians worldwide face serious persecution and discrimination for their faith.

In Thessalonica, a troubling message reached the church, claiming that the Day of the Lord had already come. This teaching, attributed to Paul, was frightening the very people he wanted to comfort.

Paul reminded them that a rebellion would happen and the man of lawlessness would appear. Lawlessness was already active, but the lawless one remained restrained until the right time.

I believe this man will be the future Antichrist. He will take a place in God’s temple, claim to be God, and deceive people with false signs.

In Revelation 13, the second beast enforces worship of the first beast and requires the mark for buying and selling during the coming Tribulation. This is different from what is happening in Nigeria now, but both show the cost of refusing false allegiance.

In my novel, The Chronicle of the Fractured Timeline, the Antichrist gains people’s trust by seeming to restore order when they are scared and looking for answers.

His intelligence, apparent compassion, and problem-solving skills make people depend on him more and more. He uses that dependence to take control. In the end, the leader they trusted begins to demand the worship that belongs only to God.

Under his rule, people can only buy or sell if they accept his mark and pledge loyalty to him. Those who refuse lose access to what they need and risk persecution or even death.

The lesson in this story is also a reminder for today. We should be wary of those who use good intentions and apparent wisdom to gain influence. Above all, we must remain faithful to Christ rather than placing ultimate trust in human leaders.

Prayer and regular reading of Scripture help us examine a leader's claims against the truth of the gospel.

Writing about these struggles has made Paul’s encouragement feel more personal to me. Staying faithful can mean trusting Jesus when your family needs food or medicine. It can also mean giving shelter to another believer, even if it puts your own life in danger.

A ruler who demands worship will be destroyed when Jesus returns. The breath of the Lord and the splendor of His coming will end the power that once seemed so strong. The Thessalonians were waiting for the true King, and the future Paul spoke of belonged to Him.

Until then, they had work to do and people to care for. Paul reminded those who had become lazy or troublesome that he and his friends had worked day and night so as not to burden anyone. They were to earn their living, take responsibility, and keep doing good as they waited for Jesus.

Paul, Silas, and Timothy also needed the church’s prayers. As they continued to spread the gospel and faced opposition, they asked the believers to pray that the message would spread and that they would be kept safe from evil people.

At the end, Paul wrote a greeting in his own handwriting so they could recognize his letter after others had made troubling statements in his name. He prayed that the Lord of peace would give them peace in every situation.

Trauma caregivers from Open Doors met with Josiah as he struggled with grief, anger, and bitterness. With their help, he began to talk about forgiveness and freedom from hatred. Now, he wants to offer the same patient care to other grieving families that helped him start to heal.

To the suffering church in Smyrna, Jesus said, “Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life.”
(Revelation 2:10, NKJV.)

People often call this the martyr’s crown. This promise comes from the One who died and rose again.

Salvation is still God’s gift and can only be received through faith in Christ. Suffering cannot earn what Jesus has already paid for. This promise gives grieving believers hope beyond death and also makes room for the tears they shed now.

I want to remember these stories after the service. It could start by remembering a persecuted family and praying for them often. That concern might grow into supporting groups like Open Doors or Voice of the Martyrs, helping those who provide shelter and trauma care, or asking leaders to protect vulnerable people.

When we sing to Jesus, we join a family much bigger than the one around us. Just as Paul and his friends cared for believers they could not be with, we have the same duty today. The King has not forgotten His people, and our love for Him should lead us to remember, pray for, and care for them too.

Let our worship continue as we remember, pray for, and care for His people, even after the music ends.

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Joshua Ertle Music

The King Still Reigns

One reason I enjoy 1 Thessalonians is because it has a lively atmosphere, especially when you consider who wrote it. Thessalonica was a busy city.

There were workshops, markets, merchants, and travelers. Ships passed through the harbor.

Families tried to earn a living, and people followed the religions and customs they were used to.

When the Gospel of Jesus Christ came to them, the course of their ordinary lives began to change.

Paul states that the Gospel did not come about merely through words but also with power, the Holy Spirit, and a firm sense of conviction.

They had not simply adopted a new philosophy. Rather, they had heard the good news concerning Jesus Christ, believed it, and turned away from idols to serve the living and true God.

What happened afterward is remarkable because their new faith was not limited to Thessalonica.

It is stated in 1 Thessalonians 1:8 that the Lord’s message rang out from them.

I really enjoy that picture. In one first-century city, a group of ordinary believers became part of something much larger than themselves.

Their faith became known outside their own community as people traveled throughout Macedonia and Achaia.

The Gospel spread through personal relationships, along the roads, in people’s homes, and in workplaces. As people traveled, the message spread and brought about real changes in people’s lives.

Two thousand years later, that Gospel is still having an effect.

Today, Christians worship Jesus in countries that the first believers in Thessalonica could never have imagined.

Even though we speak different languages, come from different cultures, live in completely different circumstances, and may never meet one another in this life, we all belong to the same Savior.

The Church has crossed borders, generations, cultures, social classes, and political systems. The Kingdom of Christ has never belonged to a single nation or one moment in history.

This is a beautiful picture of the people of God. The unity we have does not come from sharing the same backgrounds or experiences, but from all belonging to Jesus Christ.

The people of Thessalonica quickly came to realize that belonging to Christ did not mean their lives would suddenly become easy.

“You received the word in much affliction, with the joy of the Holy Spirit.” — 1 Thessalonians 1:6

That verse becomes much more powerful when you consider the real people who had encountered opposition.

Some were shaken. Others had suffered. Following Jesus involved a real cost.

The joy they felt did not mean that they took pleasure in suffering or pretended everything was okay. On the contrary, it showed that their circumstances did not change the truth that Christ was still Lord.

The same Jesus they had worshiped when they first believed was still Lord even when following Him became painful.

The fact that Timothy was sent back to support and encourage them tells us a great deal about the character of Christian community. We were never meant to go through every situation on our own.

Fulfilling our calling may involve telling someone about Jesus for the first time. At other times, it may mean sitting with someone whose faith has been shaken and reminding them that God has not abandoned them.

Paul prayed that their love might continue to grow and overflow, not only toward each other, but also toward everyone else.

He hoped their faith would be shown in the way they treated people through hospitality, generosity, encouragement, patience, work, and the little things they did to show care.

The letter then reaches an even more painful point.

The believers in Thessalonica experienced grief when they lost people they cared about. Paul does not tell them that Christians should not grieve or that sorrow means a lack of true faith.

In fact, their sorrow was genuine because the people they had lost meant a great deal to them.

Paul gives their grief a different horizon.

“We do not grieve as those who have no hope.” — 1 Thessalonians 4:13

There is a big difference between saying that Christians do not grieve and saying that Christians do not grieve without hope.

We grieve because death is painful, and we cry because love makes loss so hard. Christianity does not require us to hide our emotions.

We have hope because Jesus Christ died and was raised again. Because He conquered death, the grave will not be the end for anyone who belongs to Him.

One of the most powerful things I picture when reading this passage is those believers grieving people they loved, yet still holding on to the promise that death was not the end.

Christ is still King beside the grave, in the middle of suffering, and when the church gathers for worship. He remains King when someone is being strengthened after a difficult season and when an ordinary believer gets up in the morning and simply continues to live faithfully.

That final point is easy to overlook because ordinary expressions of Christian faithfulness are not dramatic.

Paul instructs the Thessalonians to live a quiet life, work with their hands, encourage one another, assist the weak, be patient, pray, give thanks, and keep waiting for Jesus.

Their lives were filled with ordinary responsibilities, but those ordinary days still mattered to God.

I imagine artisans taking their tools into the city, families preparing their meals, and people going to the market. Believers helped their neighbors, and Christians returned to work after long, difficult nights.

Though they were waiting for Christ, waiting did not mean simply standing around doing nothing. They were expected to remain faithful in the life right in front of them.

Surrounding them was the magnificent world of Rome.

To the people living beneath its power, the rulers, armies, temples, wealth, civic authority, monuments, and institutions must have seemed permanent.

Nevertheless, the world that appeared so permanent to those Thessalonian Christians changed dramatically.

As generations passed, rulers died, political systems changed, and what people had once believed would last forever became history.

The Gospel did not.

The small church to which Paul wrote became part of a story that extended far beyond Thessalonica.

The believers described in those homes, workshops, streets, and burial places had no way of knowing that Christians thousands of miles away would still be reading about their faith nearly two thousand years later.

The world they lived in changed, but the Lord they trusted did not.

That is why 1 Thessalonians is so full of hope. The letter is not addressed to people who have never experienced difficulty.

Rather, it is written to believers learning to follow Jesus through conversion, worship, opposition, friendship, grief, work, holiness, encouragement, and expectation.

Through all of it, Paul keeps their attention directed toward Christ.

They were waiting for Jesus.

Their greatest hope was not that Rome would become perfect, that suffering would cease, or that human beings would eventually solve everything wrong with the world. Their hope was in the return of the One who had saved them.

And after everything Paul says about their faith, suffering, love, grief, work, holiness, and hope, he gives them this promise:

“The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:24

That may be one of the most comforting lines in the entire letter.

God proved Himself faithful when the Gospel first came to Thessalonica and when the believers suffered. He showed His faithfulness when Timothy arrived to encourage them, as they stood by graves mourning people they loved, and when they returned to ordinary work while continuing to wait for Jesus.

And He is faithful now.

Across countries, cultures, languages, generations, joy, suffering, life, and death, believers are still worshiping the same Savior.

The Gospel that rang out from Thessalonica is still being proclaimed. People are still turning to the living God, Christians are still encouraging one another, and the Church is still waiting for Jesus.

The world in which we live will keep changing, just as the world surrounding those early believers did. Something that seems permanent today may not remain so forever.

But the King they worshiped has not changed.

Through every generation, He is still faithful, and He still reigns.

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Joshua Ertle Music

Character Matters More Than Influence

Influence is a gift because it can help us share the Gospel and the hope of Jesus Christ with people we might never otherwise reach.

Creativity, leadership, professional ability, financial resources, ministry opportunities, businesses, and online audiences can all be used for God's Kingdom.

Christians should want the Gospel to spread farther, not be afraid of every larger opportunity simply because it is larger. There is nothing inherently more spiritual about remaining unnoticed if God has opened a door for someone to reach more people.

Paul celebrates this kind of reach in 1 Thessalonians 1:8, where he says that "the message of the Lord came from you" and that their faith had become known beyond their own community.

Their influence was growing, and Paul was glad because the Gospel was spreading through it.

What matters is why the opportunity is valuable.

It matters because more people may hear the Gospel, encounter biblical truth, or be encouraged in their faith. It does not make the person with the larger audience more important.

Paul keeps that balance in 1 Thessalonians 2. He says they spoke as people entrusted with the Gospel who sought to please God, "who tests our hearts," while also saying, "We were not seeking praise from people."

He wanted the Gospel to spread widely without turning human praise into the reason for doing it.

I once attended a graduation service at a local church in Springfield, Virginia, where an elder emphatically told the students graduating from their Christian school to avoid influence and simply act as "cupbearers," serving quietly in the background.

I understood the warning against chasing fame, attention, or personal importance. Those things can absolutely become dangerous.

But I also think there is a danger in telling young Christians that influence itself is something they should avoid.

A student can easily walk away believing that wanting to reach more people, lead well, build something meaningful, or use a large platform for the Kingdom is somehow less spiritual than staying unseen.

That can produce a false version of humility where gifted young people become afraid to step into opportunities God may actually be giving them.

Instead of asking, "How can I use this faithfully?" they may begin asking, "Is it wrong for me to have influence at all?"

I do not think that is a healthy message to give young Christians.

The issue is not whether they have influence. The issue is what they want it for, what it does to their character, and whether they use it to serve people and point them to Christ.

Young people should absolutely be warned about pride.

But they should also be encouraged not to bury gifts, avoid leadership, or shrink from opportunities simply because those opportunities might give them a wider reach.

Nehemiah was literally a cupbearer, yet God did not leave him there.

He became governor and was given the responsibility to rebuild Jerusalem's walls, confront injustice, and lead people through an enormous task.

Joseph, Daniel, and Esther also found themselves in positions where their decisions affected entire nations.

Scripture repeatedly shows people being entrusted with significant responsibility, and the issue is not whether they had influence, but what they did with it.

There is a big difference between wanting influence so that we can feel important and being willing to use it faithfully when God gives it to us.

The problem is not influence.

The problem is pride and what we do with the trust we are given.

A platform should give us more opportunities to care for people, tell them the truth, encourage them, and point them to Jesus.

Greater reach should create greater responsibility, not a greater sense of personal importance.

I explore this from several directions in The Chronicle of the Fractured Timeline.

Kierra is intelligent, wealthy, determined, connected, and extraordinarily well resourced.

None of those things are inherently evil. They allow her to do things most people could never even attempt.

The danger begins when grief changes what she believes those abilities entitle her to do.

After suffering a loss she cannot accept, she uses everything available to her to alter what happened.

The closer she gets to what she wants, the easier it becomes to believe that because she can go farther, she therefore has the right to.

That is where stewardship begins turning into control.

What makes Kierra difficult to watch is that she is not driven by simple greed.

She is hurting.

She loves deeply, and she desperately wants to reverse something terrible.

Her motives make sense even as her decisions become more dangerous. That is what makes her choices so painful rather than simply villainous.

Good intentions do not make every decision right.

Sometimes they make it easier to cross boundaries because we convince ourselves the goal is important enough to justify it.

Having the ability to do something is not always the same as having the right to do it.

The novel also looks at influence from another direction.

What interests me is not simply an obvious villain demanding loyalty, but the kind of person people have genuine reasons to trust.

Maybe he has helped people, handled crises well, or stayed calm when everyone else was overwhelmed.

Maybe his success has been real and his accomplishments impressive.

The danger begins when we stop distinguishing between "this person has been effective" and "this person must be right."

Someone can be intelligent, charismatic, generous, successful, and admired by millions without those qualities proving their character or the truth of what they believe.

We still have to look at what they teach, how they use people's trust, and whether what they say agrees with God's Word.

Success can show ability.

It cannot, by itself, prove humility, faithfulness, or spiritual trustworthiness.

But Christians should not become suspicious of success simply because it is success either.

Success is not righteousness, but neither is obscurity.

If God gives someone the opportunity to reach ten thousand people rather than ten, I believe they should walk through that door gratefully.

The opportunity matters because more people can hear the Gospel and be helped.

It does not make that person more valuable than someone faithfully serving where almost nobody notices.

That distinction matters to me because both errors are dangerous.

We can worship influence, but we can also romanticize having none.

Neither response is especially biblical.

What matters is whether we are faithful with whatever God has actually placed in our hands.

Our health, audiences, businesses, ministries, and opportunities can all change over time, sometimes very quickly.

Remembering that should not make us hesitant to use what God has given us, but it should keep us aware that none of it is permanent and that everything we have is something we are only stewarding for a season.

Discernment has to work both ways.

Christians should evaluate influential people according to God's Word rather than charisma, popularity, wealth, talent, political power, or success.

Anyone with a platform should also pay attention to what that platform is doing inside their own heart.

It is easier to recognize pride in someone else than to notice when our own desire to serve has slowly become a desire to be admired.

We may genuinely want to reach more people for Christ, but it is still worth asking whether we are becoming more grateful and responsible as the audience grows, or simply more attached to being noticed.

The greater the influence, the more important character becomes.

I love the perspective 1 Thessalonians gives when it describes believers as those who "wait for his Son from heaven."

Our greatest hope was never meant to rest in the next great pastor, politician, billionaire, author, ministry, or public figure who looks capable of solving everything.

We are waiting for Jesus Christ, and that puts every earthly authority in its proper place.

True humility does not mean pretending influence is meaningless.

Influence matters because it allows us to serve more people and carry the Gospel farther through the opportunities God provides.

Humility keeps us from confusing a large audience with personal importance.

The size of an audience tells us how many people may be listening.

Character determines what we do with their trust.

We should use the gifts God gives us boldly and gratefully while remembering why those opportunities matter in the first place.

If God opens a larger door, walk through it.

If He places us somewhere quiet and unseen, be faithful there too.

Neither size nor visibility determines the value of obedience.

Our goal was never to become the center of the story.

It is to use what God has entrusted to us to love people, serve them faithfully, spread the Gospel, and make Jesus Christ known.

We do not need to be ashamed of influence, and we do not need to worship it.

We just need the character to use it faithfully and keep giving the glory back to Him.

2 weeks ago (edited) | [YT] | 511

Joshua Ertle Music

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

— Matthew 11:28 (NIV)

What a beautiful promise from Jesus. ❤️

3 weeks ago (edited) | [YT] | 2,668

Joshua Ertle Music

When We Want Someone to Save Us

It is natural to look to other people for comfort when life feels uncertain. I know I have done that more times than I can count. We want someone to understand us, stand beside us, and make us feel a little less alone when life becomes complicated.

That longing, and the question of what happens when we ask another person to carry more of our hope than they were ever meant to carry, is one of the recurring themes in my new novel, The Chronicle of the Fractured Timeline.

This desire stems from a desire to be truly known. We may hope someone will stay with us, understand us, and help make the future feel less scary.

Christianity embraces this longing. Ecclesiastes says two are better than one. Galatians encourages us to support each other in our burdens. God often gives us help and comfort through other people.

But even the best relationships have limits. Sometimes our desire for connection becomes a need for someone to be our anchor or source of peace. Their approval can shape how we see ourselves.

It is important to notice when we start expecting someone else to shape our identity or our sense of security. Healthy boundaries remind us that love is a gift, not a guarantee of completeness.

We may become afraid to make decisions without someone's input. Sometimes we worry more about losing their approval than doing what is right.

By naming these patterns and being honest with God about our needs, we can care for our relationships without asking anyone to carry our deepest hopes or sense of self.

Even the best people can walk with us through suffering, but they cannot remove it.

Psalm 146 says not to put our final trust in others, even leaders. People cannot rescue us from what we fear most. Mortality limits every promise, and no one controls how long they will stay.

Love wants things to last forever, but letting people be human gives love room to grow. This takes away the pressure of impossible expectations.

We may seek security in knowledge, money, power, or technology, but none of these can truly make us safe.

Still, the desire for rescue does not go away. Christianity says this longing is not a flaw, but a sign that we are reaching for something only God can give.

Paul, in Romans 7, realizes he cannot save himself and turns to Jesus Christ.

Christianity does not shame our weaknesses or claim we should have been strong enough to save ourselves.

Romans says all have sinned and fall short of God’s glory. Sin is not just a list of bad choices. It is a deep need for rescue that goes beyond self-improvement.

The gospel is first news, not advice. It is not a set of steps to get back to God. It is the story of God coming to us.

Jesus entered all our pain and suffering. He faced rejection, grief, betrayal, and death.

He did not come only to show sympathy, but to save.

1 Peter says Christ carried our sins in His body on the cross. Romans says He died for us while we were still sinners. He did not wait for us to fix ourselves or become deserving of rescue. He came to us as we are.

Many people fear that if others knew everything about them, they would be rejected.

Many of us try to hide our failures and worries to be more lovable. I have been guilty of that many times in my life.

Yet Psalm 139 says God knows us completely and still loves us. Christ's love is not based on ignoring our flaws. Forgiveness had a real cost, and Christ chose to bear it. Salvation is a gift, not something we can earn.

Jesus gives rest to the weary. In Matthew 11, He invites everyone who is overwhelmed to come to Him.

There is a special exhaustion that comes from thinking everything depends on us. We try to understand, control, and prove ourselves. But the rest Christ offers means we do not have to pretend our salvation depends on our own efforts.

We can bring our anxious thoughts and mistakes to Him, knowing we are already loved. There is nothing that we can do to separate us from His love.

Grace gives us a new identity. Scripture speaks of new life, adoption, and belonging to Christ. Our worst mistakes do not determine our worth.

Our hope is not just for hard days. It is for a rescue that overcomes even death.

Every longing for rescue eventually faces death. Love can lead to sacrifice, but it cannot make us or our loved ones immortal.

Here, resurrection changes everything. Jesus rose from the dead and overcame the last enemy. Since He is alive, nothing, not even death, can separate us from God's love.

No human can make a promise that lasts forever. Even the deepest love is limited by the fact that life ends.

The promise of Christ is different. His promise stretches beyond this world. Revelation points to a future where God makes everything new and sorrow is gone.

Christian hope is more than just getting through hard times. It is about trusting that Jesus has truly conquered death.

When Christ is at the center of our lives, we can love others freely. We can respect leaders without worshiping them. We can appreciate help from people without expecting it to be perfect.

Even though we try to appear strong, we still long for someone to help us, to understand and forgive us, and to keep us safe when the future is uncertain.

These desires are not foolish. They lead us into honest conversations with God. We bring our true selves, hopes, and fears. God welcomes our dependence and listens to the longings we can barely speak.

As Christians, we know that our deepest longings have always gone beyond what any other person can completely provide.

We want to be entirely known and yet still be loved; we want forgiveness for things we cannot undo, relief from things we cannot carry, and a presence that does not disappear even after our death.

Jesus does not ignore our longings; rather, He is there for us in them and promises us what no human relationship could ever offer: His presence, His mercy, and His constant love.

The gospel comes down to this: Jesus came for us, took our sins upon Himself, died in our place, and rose again. Because He lives, our longing to be saved is neither foolish nor misplaced. There truly is a Savior who can bear the full weight of our hope, remain faithful when everything else fails, and carry us even through death itself.

Jesus alone is mighty to save.

“Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save.
When their spirit departs, they return to the ground; on that very day their plans come to nothing. Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the Lord their God.”

Psalm 146:3–5 (NIV)

3 weeks ago (edited) | [YT] | 1,949

Joshua Ertle Music

I've been writing for months and am excited to announce that my first novel, The Chronicle of the Fractured Timeline, is finally complete. I'm working on getting it published and plan to upload the first two audio chapters here on YouTube soon.

The story is set in Northern Virginia and begins with Kierra Winters and her fifteen-year-old son Ryan. Kierra is intelligent, incredibly wealthy, extremely protective, dryly funny, and believes that if a problem can be understood clearly enough, someone will eventually find a way to solve it.

Ryan has only recently become a Christian, so his theological views are probably more numerous than a few weeks' experience should warrant. He is curious, sincere, often mistaken, and can become deeply committed to a position that may not last until dinner.

One attempt to understand predestination lasts 43 minutes before another passage undermines it, and his view of the end times can change within a single day. Usually this does not reduce his confidence as much as everyone around him might hope.

Beneath the weak arguments and short-lived theological systems, Ryan actually has faith in Jesus Christ. When he worries about having misunderstood Revelation, he realizes that Jesus remains who He is even if a fifteen-year-old has got the timetable wrong.

Owen and Samira are Ryan's closest friends and have known him long enough to be less impressed by his arguments than Ryan would like. Owen also plays guitar, although Ryan considers the word "plays" to be doing quite a bit of charitable work.

Ryan thinks the guitar should probably require a permit. "Wonderwall" is viewed less as a song than as something the neighborhood should receive advance notice of, and Owen's tuning is occasionally treated more like a personal belief than something measurable.

Owen insists Ryan exaggerates, while Ryan insists the guitar has witnesses. Samira generally refuses to participate until Owen starts playing, at which point she becomes much more sympathetic to Ryan's position. She does not recognize the song until Owen tells her what it is, which Owen considers a problem with Samira rather than with the guitar.

Ryan's youth group is also a major part of his life because I wanted church in this story to actually feel like church. There are Bible studies, prayer, snacks, distracted teenagers, rides home, and conversations that somehow travel much further than Pastor Dave intended.

Pastor Dave takes Ryan seriously because beneath all the confidence is a teenager asking because God genuinely matters to him. Sometimes Dave answers, sometimes they open Scripture together, and sometimes he is willing to say he doesn't know. At one point his contribution to an increasingly complicated argument is simply, "Give Owen his cable back."

Pastor Dave also tells Ryan that if an apology requires a glossary, the apology probably isn't ready yet. He loves these kids, but he would also occasionally like Wednesday night to end before Thursday. The church is not scenery waiting for Revelation to begin. It is part of their ordinary lives, and when Ryan dies tragically, the people who knew him there are still present when the joking stops.

Kierra then faces the one issue she cannot resolve despite her intelligence, wealth, determination, and technology. She loves Ryan, worries about him, gets irritated with him, and assumes there will be time later for whatever was not finished today. Ryan has unfinished theological arguments and the normal expectation of a fifteen-year-old that tomorrow is going to happen.

When it doesn't, Kierra cannot accept that all the resources at her disposal have suddenly become useless. Since she is not a Christian, she does not begin with resurrection, surrender, or trust in God. She believes the universe can eventually be understood, and unlike most people who might think this way in grief, she actually has the resources to act on that belief.

That does not make Kierra a villain. She is a mother who loves her son and cannot bear that everything she has spent her life becoming suddenly means nothing against death. She does not wake up one morning and decide to play God. The lines move gradually until crossing one more starts to seem worth it if it could somehow bring back the person she loves most.

The story begins in science fiction, but The Chronicle of the Fractured Timeline grows into something much greater. It follows these characters across years and, eventually, decades as children grow up, relationships change, churches keep meeting, elections come and go, and personal choices begin to affect far more than one family.

I wanted the world to keep feeling lived in even when the stakes become enormous. There are discussions about Scripture alongside children obsessed with frogs, faulty appliances, poor coffee, guitar arguments, family life, and reminders that the apocalypse apparently does not exempt anyone from building maintenance. The frogs are particularly persistent.

Discernment is one of the major themes, especially deception that contains enough truth that the larger lie becomes difficult to recognize. Samira wrestles with this too. At one point she hears an application from Hebrews that contains something useful, then goes home, reads the passage in context, talks with other believers, and realizes part of the insight is true even though the application goes beyond what the text supports.

That becomes harder when the person speaking appears to be one of us. Someone can agree with us politically, care about causes we care about, or agree with most of our theology and still be seriously mistaken. The novel does not use one political party as the standard for Christian faithfulness or voting as a test of salvation. What we hear still has to be checked against Scripture, especially when we already like the person saying it.

The story also allows good things to remain genuinely good. Medicine really does make a difference, innocent people really are protected, and peace can be a blessing. The danger arises when gratitude for something good becomes a reason to give any human being worship or obedience that belongs only to Jesus Christ.

Many years later, some of the things Ryan once argued about in youth group are no longer theoretical as the events predicted in the Bible begin to unfold. I do not want to say where particular characters are by then or how their lives have changed, because some of the biggest discoveries should remain discoveries.

The Rapture takes place, explanations spread through a terrified world, and Revelation begins entering ordinary life alongside people who still need food, medicine, transportation, friendship, prayer, and shelter.

Even the Mark eventually enters economic life through employment, medicine, housing, travel, and basic services. In one scene, a pharmacy has medicine only a few feet away that a child desperately needs, but the system will not release it because the household lacks the necessary authorization.

The book also looks at the difference between recognizing prophecy and actually knowing Christ. A person can correctly identify biblical events and still refuse repentance. Knowing what is happening is not the same as placing one's trust in Jesus.

That ties back to Ryan and the theological questions he never has enough time to resolve. His salvation does not depend on becoming clever enough to settle every argument; otherwise, the survival rate of most of his theological systems would be a serious problem.

Pastor Dave can help him grow, Samira can point out when he is reading too much into a passage, and Owen can contribute almost nothing useful before making matters worse by picking up a guitar. But none of them are Ryan's Savior. Jesus is.

The narrative eventually reaches the final promises of Revelation, but I don't want to lay out every event here. What begins with one grieving mother trying to overcome death eventually comes to the biblical promise that death itself will finally be conquered.

Despite all the theology, politics, science fiction, and prophecy, The Chronicle of the Fractured Timeline is ultimately about people: mothers and sons, friendships, marriages, children, church life, youth groups, pastors who love the people they serve, grief, dubious guitar selections, forgiveness which cannot be earned, and people finding out what they really believe when believing it starts to cost them something.

I'm looking forward to sharing more as the publishing process continues. The first two audio chapters will be coming to YouTube soon, while the characters' biggest problems still include unfinished theology, ordinary family life, getting youth group dismissed sometime before midnight, and whether Owen should legally be permitted to play another song on guitar.

Ryan believes the answer is no, and given that the guitar has witnesses, he may finally have a theological position with sufficient evidence to back it.

P.S. Jesus is coming soon. And that truth matters infinitely more than anything I could ever put on a page.

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4 weeks ago (edited) | [YT] | 759

Joshua Ertle Music

Still Asking Questions with Jesus

I've been reflecting on the difference between simply wanting to understand God and believing we must understand everything before trusting Him. Christianity never asks us to shut off our minds. The Bible actually encourages us to seek wisdom, test what we learn, pursue truth, and deepen our knowledge of God. It's a wonderful moment when a new Christian opens the Bible and immediately sees that there is so much to discover.

Imagine a fifteen-year-old boy who has only recently become a Christian, just three weeks ago. He has truly placed his trust in Jesus and is eager to learn everything he can.

He dives into topics like predestination, election, free will, grace, Revelation, the Tribulation, and Christ’s return. On Tuesday, he’s convinced Christians will be taken before the Tribulation. By Wednesday, though, he finds passages he hadn’t noticed before and changes his mind.

He is intelligent, sincere, curious, sometimes overconfident, and still very much a fifteen-year-old.

There’s something amusing about that kind of teenage certainty, though there is beauty beneath it. He asks these questions because he wants to know God. Psalm 42 describes a soul longing for God, and Psalm 119 ties love for God to joy in His Word.

We should encourage that hunger. Young believers should be urged to read, ask hard questions, wrestle with tough passages, change their minds, and keep searching, especially when easy answers aren’t supported by Scripture.

In the end, however, he will encounter something that proves beyond his capacity to handle it; maybe a friend will notice that, when the surrounding passage is considered, the verse which he has been quoting with confidence acquires a different meaning. He goes back to the text, finds that his argument breaks down, and finally admits, "I don't know."

A Christian could hardly give a more honest answer.

The knowledge described in 1 Corinthians 13:12 is incomplete. Deuteronomy 29:29 highlights the difference between what God has revealed and what He keeps hidden.

In Romans 11, Paul deeply considers God’s purposes and ultimately realizes that God’s wisdom surpasses human understanding. Instead of giving up on theology, Paul responds with worship.

We are to do everything that God has revealed without pretending that He has revealed all.

Not all doctrine is equally open to debate. Core truths matter deeply: who Jesus Christ is, His death and bodily resurrection, the reality of sin, grace, faith, and the gospel. Paul emphasizes these essentials in 1 Corinthians 15 and Galatians 1.

Still, for centuries, faithful Christians have held different views about secondary issues, such as the timing of end-times events, or how divine sovereignty and human responsibility fit together.

A fifteen-year-old boy might be wrong about some of those secondary questions and yet still genuinely be part of Christ.

This matters because none of us knows how much time we have. James 4:14 says our lives are like a mist, here for a moment, then gone. Psalm 90 asks God to teach us to count our days wisely.

A teenager might assume he has decades to think through Revelation, predestination, suffering, prayer, and everything else. But no one is guaranteed decades; he might have only three weeks.

Suppose that he spends those three weeks longing for God; he studies the Scripture, debates theology with his friends, makes some mistakes, changes his mind, apologises whenever his arrogance offends anyone, and keeps on asking questions since he really does want to understand the God who saved him. Then death comes suddenly.

He doesn't finish the notebook because he had some sections which he intended to return to and questions which he had supposed would wait many years before he could study them. He never becomes an expert in theology or resolves all the secondary doctrines, but his salvation was never based on his theology being complete.

The message given in Ephesians 2:8 and 9 is that we are saved by grace through faith, not by our own works; in Romans 10:9 saving faith is defined as including the confession that Jesus is Lord and the belief that God raised Him from the dead. Although the thief who was beside Jesus in Luke 23 had very little time in which to develop any theological ideas, Jesus promised that he would be with him.

The young believer was not familiar with all the aspects of theology, but he did know the One who had saved him.

This doesn’t mean theology isn’t important; quite the opposite. It shows where theological study fits. We should work to understand God as much as we can because we love Him, but we must remember: complete knowledge of theology never saves anyone.

Philippians speaks of departing and being with Christ, while 1 Corinthians 15 looks past death to the hope of bodily resurrection. Death is not the final word for those who belong to Jesus.

Danger arises when a genuine desire to understand turns into an inability to tolerate uncertainty. We stop asking questions, insisting on explanations before we are willing to trust God. This tendency doesn’t just affect theology; it shows up in how we handle suffering, relationships, leadership, politics, and power.

Someone might become very competent, able to solve problems others can’t, and often correct. There’s nothing wrong with being capable or right. The problem comes when a track record of success is used to justify greater authority. "I understood this situation correctly" slowly turns into "so I should be the one to decide."

Just because someone is capable doesn't mean they have a moral right to authority.

A leader might accomplish real good, yet still become dangerous if his success leads him to see accountability as nothing more than interference from people who know less than he does.

Christians may support leaders, participate in politics, defend life, care about families and religious liberty, and be grateful when authority is exercised properly. At the same time, we must remember that no successful human leader can become spiritually infallible.

Political effectiveness cannot substitute for sound judgment. The loyalty owed to Jesus Christ cannot be given to anyone else.

This is why the way someone corrects others reveals so much about their character. An intelligent person might be argumentative, competitive, or overly confident at times, but those aren’t the main issues.

The real test is this: When the truth challenges his pride, does he still accept the truth as authoritative? A reasonable person can see when the Bible offers a different perspective on something important to him and change his mind. He can recognize when he’s wronged a friend and apologize, without using that apology to defend himself. He can admit what he doesn’t know, without seeing it as failure or humiliation.

Grace addresses this desire for control differently. We understand earning, buying, and repaying because those things let us keep score. But the gospel says we cannot be saved that way; we’re not smart enough, good enough, accomplished enough, or theologically expert enough to put God in our debt. We are saved solely because of what Jesus Christ has done.

There’s a difference between studying theology as worship and studying it to attain mastery. When we study as an act of worship, we keep asking questions because God is worth knowing. Humility lets us struggle for years with difficult questions and still say, "I don’t know," without believing Jesus is any less trustworthy.

So keep on asking questions. Take care to read the Scripture and study any difficult doctrines. If the Word of God requires it, change your beliefs and yet firmly hold on to the gospel; at the same time, approach any secondary disagreements with sufficient humility, recognizing that sincere Christians might at times interpret a passage differently.

By no means should you put off Christ until all the questions have been answered. We haven't all been given enough time for that.

A fifteen-year-old may have decades to learn, or life may close much sooner than he ever expected.

If the time he is given is spent genuinely trusting Jesus and hungering to know Him, then the questions left unfinished when death comes do not make Christ's saving work unfinished.

There is something profoundly beautiful about a young believer wanting to understand everything he can because he wants God, while slowly discovering that knowing God and knowing everything are not the same thing.

It has never been our hope to work out all the details before our time is up.

Our hope is Jesus Christ.

1 month ago | [YT] | 2,347

Joshua Ertle Music

When Love Wants to Undo Death

I have been spending a lot of time lately thinking about grief, control, faith, and what it really means to trust God when something happens that we desperately wish we could undo.

When we love someone deeply, grief can make us want to bargain with reality itself. If we just had more time, more money, more knowledge, or more influence, maybe we could fix what went wrong.

Wanting to undo loss is completely understandable, and love is not the problem here. The ache of grief just exposes how deeply we care.

But the danger begins when our love hardens into a desperate demand for control. We convince ourselves that if we plan, manage, and understand better, nothing will ever take something precious from us.

We start trying to act as the ultimate administrator of our own existence. We want to be sovereign.

The Danger of Good Intentions

Here is the hardest part to admit. We can try to play God with the absolute best of intentions.

When love becomes desperate, we can convince ourselves that any method is justified if it keeps us from losing what we hold dear, until protecting what we love becomes an attempt to claim authority that belongs to God alone.

Intelligence, wealth, and technology are not inherently sinful. The danger comes when they become substitutes for trusting God.

Scripture warns us against this kind of self-reliance. Proverbs 3:5 tells us to trust in the Lord with all our hearts and not lean on our own understanding.

When we lean entirely on our own ability to fix things, we quickly discover we were never meant to carry the weight of the world. Eventually, reality breaks through our defenses, and we discover we were never sovereign.

There is immense freedom in finally admitting that.

Resurrection Over Reconstruction

We cannot conquer death. Jesus already did.

Christianity does not tell us that death is painless. Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus (John 11:35), and 1 Corinthians 15:26 calls death the last enemy. But Christianity does not leave us standing helplessly at the grave.

Jesus Christ died for our sins, rose bodily from the grave, and defeated the enemy we could never defeat ourselves.

Our Christian hope is not finding a way to travel backward and erase everything painful that happened.

Our hope is resurrection.

God's answer is greater than going backward, because as Revelation 21:5 tells us, He makes all things new.

That has also made me think about grace differently. We spend so much of our lives keeping ledgers. We remember our failures and calculate whether we have done enough good to make ourselves acceptable to God.

But you cannot hack your way into heaven. You cannot negotiate your way into forgiveness. You cannot balance the ledger yourself because Jesus paid the debt in full.

Salvation is a free gift of grace received through faith in Christ, not human effort. When Christ forgives, we do not need to keep auditing His forgiveness as though His sacrifice might come up short.

Surrendering the Illusion

There is another lesson in all of this too. Loving someone deeply is not the same thing as possessing them. The people we love ultimately belong to God. That can be incredibly difficult to accept in the raw ache of grief, but God loves them perfectly.

Surrender does not mean loving someone less or pretending their absence does not hurt. It means refusing to let grief convince us that love gives us sovereignty over life and death.

Sometimes faith sounds less like having every theological question answered and more like finally being able to say that we do not know everything, but we know the One who does.

That isn't intellectual surrender. It is surrendering the illusion that we were ever God.

And perhaps that is one of the sweetest promises of the gospel. For everyone who belongs to Jesus, death does not get the final word.

Grief does not get the final word.

Our failures do not get the final word.

Fear does not get the final word.

Jesus does.

The Christian story ends not with humanity becoming powerful enough to save itself, but with redeemed people standing before the Savior who already did.

Until then, we grieve, love, pray, work, and remember. But we do those things with hope.

Because when someone who belongs to Christ leaves this life, God has not lost them.

We do not need to conquer death. Jesus already did.

1 month ago (edited) | [YT] | 2,377