But Teshuva does not permit us to stand across the street and critique the house.
If we belong to Yeshua, this is our house.
But Teshuva does not permit us to stand across the street and critique the house.
If we belong to Yeshua, this is our house.
We began with our own location on the road of return. Last week we searched the inner rooms—the desires, defenses, words, idols, and explanations that can hide what is actually happening in the heart.
Now we cross the threshold.
Teshuva comes home.
Before examining our households, our congregations, Israel, or the nations, we stood where Adam stood and allowed God's question to become personal. Teshuva begins by telling the truth about where we are and then turning toward where God intended us to be.
Elul is the signal to turn our attention Godward, because His appointed times, His moedim (Lev 23:1-4), are close now. One practical expression of that focus: …
From Genesis to Revelation, Scripture tells the story of God reclaiming what belongs to Him.
And at the center of that story stands something most believers have never been taught to see clearly:
God’s calendar.
Installment Six of The Faith Once Delivered is the most personal installment — and the most necessary one. Because the people I am asking to examine themselves deserve to see me examine myself first. The zeal that mistakes intensity for discernment. The righteous indignation that becomes its own form of idolatry. The information diet designed to feed and confirm what we already believe.
In A.D. 325, a Roman emperor wrote a letter. It was not a theological argument. It was a political decree. And it changed the Christian feast of Passover forever.
He called the Jewish people "that hostile crowd" and declared it "unworthy" for the church to follow their calendar. That single decision — grounded not in scripture but in ethnic contempt — severed the resurrection feast from the Hebrew calendar that gave it its meaning.
Around A.D. 160, a bishop in Sardis preached the oldest surviving sermon on the resurrection feast. No eggs. No bunnies. No seasonal sentimentality. Just this:
"I am your freedom. I am the Passover of your salvation. I am the lamb slaughtered for you. I am your ransom. I am your life. I am your light. I am your resurrection. I am your king."
With the approach of Passover and Easter, I am again reminded of the tensions caused by how the world and the church has lost track of time and the misplaced traditions that have set aside God's plan for celebration and worship. This disconnect between modern calendars and God's ordained accounting of time represents more than a mere technical difference—it signifies a profound spiritual rupture.
The Council of Nicaea in 325 CE represents perhaps…