Tag Archives: Faith

ALTAR AUDIT, Part 9: The Altar of Strength

Read Isaiah 42:1–4

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed,

Altars reveal what we worship. Some are obvious—raised platforms of stone and flame. Others are quieter, constructed in systems, reputations, loyalties, and assumptions. Lent is a season of holy examination. It calls us to look closely at what we have built, what we defend, and what we trust. In this series, we conduct an audit—not of budgets or buildings, but of allegiances. Lent strips away every false altar until only Christ remains.

Image: AI-generated using DALL·E and customized by the author. Used with the devotional “The Altar of Strength” at Life-Giving Water Devotions.

Part 9: The Altar of Strength. Strength is one of the most celebrated virtues we know. It is praised in leadership, rewarded in culture, and quietly expected in everyday life. We are taught to admire those who endure, who push through, who hold it together no matter the cost. Strength, on its own, is not the problem. It is real. It matters. It can protect, sustain, and even heal.

But what happens when strength becomes something more than a virtue—when it becomes an altar?

The altar of strength is built not just on what we admire, but on what we are willing to overlook. Because the moment strength becomes the standard by which we measure worth, those who cannot meet it begin to disappear. Not all at once. Not violently, at least not always. But quietly. Systemically. Acceptably.

We tell ourselves a lie: that strength is simply what is good. And in doing so, we justify who we ignore.

Isaiah offers a different vision. The Servant of God does not raise a voice to dominate. The Servant does not crush the bruised reed or extinguish the faintest flame. This is not weakness. This is not passivity. This is strength—restrained, intentional, and directed toward justice. It is power that refuses to prove itself through destruction.

That is a direct contradiction to the strength we are used to seeing.

Because empire has always defined strength by who survives and who does not. Strength, in that system, is measured by dominance, endurance, and control. Those who cannot keep pace—the bruised, the exhausted, the barely holding on—are not centered. They are managed, minimized, or moved aside.

And here is the harder truth: the Church is not immune to this.

We say we follow Christ, but we often mirror empire. We celebrate resilience while ignoring burnout. We platform voices that project stability while sidelining those who struggle to be heard. We call it wisdom. We call it order. We call it strength.

But beneath it is a quieter confession: we do not know what to do with weakness—especially our own.

So we construct an altar.

We convince ourselves that we are strong, even when we are not, because admitting otherwise feels like losing value. And in maintaining that illusion, we distance ourselves from those who cannot hide their fragility. What we refuse to face within ourselves, we often reject in others.

This is how the altar holds.

Jesus dismantles it—not by denying strength, but by redefining it. In Luke’s Gospel, the good news is not announced to the powerful but to the poor, the captive, the blind, the oppressed. Not as an afterthought, but as the center.

That is the inversion.

Strength, in the kingdom of God, is not proven by who stands above others. It is revealed in who refuses to step over them. It is not the ability to endure at all costs—it is the willingness to remain with those who cannot. It is not dominance—it is presence. Not force—but faithfulness.

And that kind of strength cannot coexist with the altar we have built.

Because one sustains systems that discard. The other restores those systems have already crushed.

So the question is not whether we value strength.

It is which definition we are willing to lay down.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Strength, in the way of Christ, is not proven by power over others, but by refusing to abandon them.

PRAYER
God, strip away the false strength we cling to and the illusions we use to measure worth. Teach us the strength of Christ—the kind that does not crush, does not discard, and does not turn away. Give us courage to face our own fragility, and compassion to stand with those the world overlooks. Re-form us in your way of justice and mercy. Amen.


Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).

When Leaders Become Idols

Read Galatians 1:6-10

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“You must not have any other god but me.” (Exodus 20:3 NLT)

Image: AI-generated using DALL·E and customized by the author. Used with the devotional “When Leaders Become Idols” at Life-Giving Water Devotions.

Images carry memory. They do more than decorate; they shape what we remember, how we interpret it, and what we pass on. In the wake of someone’s death, images become especially powerful. They can comfort us, stir hope, or even rewrite legacies. Yesterday, Charlie Kirk was laid to rest. His death is a tragedy. No matter where one stood on his views, his life bore sacred worth because every human life does. As Christians, we grieve that worth is no longer among us, and we entrust him, like all of us, to the mercy of God.

But as I watched the days following his death unfold, the images being shared caught my attention. One came from an individual Christian’s page: a meme depicting Charlie standing with Jesus. The caption reads, “Lord, I could have led more to you.” To which Jesus responds, “Son, you have no idea how many you just did.” It is sentimental, heartfelt, and born of grief—a way for friends and followers to express hope and consolation.

And yet, this is terrible theology. At its most basic level, it implies that Charlie’s most successful method of leading people to Jesus was being shot. Few pause to consider what such words actually mean. More troubling still is the assumption beneath the image—that Kirk’s daily mode of operation was genuinely bringing people to Christ. We can grant that he may have sincerely believed that he was. But sincerity alone does not make something true. Nowhere does Jesus, Paul, or any of the apostles call us to partisanship as the divine message of Christ. Quite the opposite. And yet, the public fruit of Charlie’s message so often pointed people not to the kingdom of God, but to a political movement wrapped in loyalty to a President and a party.

That message also leaned heavily on “us versus them” thinking. Instead of Christ’s call to love our neighbor, it sharpened lines between insiders and outsiders, friends and enemies. Misunderstanding was pushed into fear, and fear was turned into fuel. But Scripture tells us plainly, “There is no fear in love. Perfect love drives out fear” (1 John 4:18). When the gospel is twisted into a weapon of division, it ceases to be good news at all.

A second image came from Reformed Sage, a Christian business and influencer brand. Their meme declared, “Charlie Kirk, martyred for the Gospel of Jesus Christ, now wears the crown in glory. His work has just begun.” Unlike the personal meme born of grief, this one was not simply comfort—it was propaganda, framing Charlie as a martyr and rallying followers to double down in the culture wars.

Here lies the danger. Images like these reveal how easily leaders can be mythologized, sanctified, even idolized. When we place leaders at the center, we risk confusing the faith once delivered to the saints with the culture wars of our age. Paul told the Corinthians, “One of you says, ‘I follow Paul’; another, ‘I follow Apollos’… Is Christ divided?” (1 Corinthians 1:12–13). Our allegiance is not to personalities, no matter how charismatic or influential. The first commandment is equally clear: “You must not have any other god but me.”

As Christians, we must take care not to canonize public figures whose legacies are complicated. Christianity does not need celebrity martyrs or culture-war champions. It needs Christ. When our symbols glorify leaders more than the Lord, we risk exchanging the cross for an idol. When our grief turns into rallying cries for ideology, we risk forgetting that the only crown that matters is the one Christ bore on Calvary.

So how do we respond? First, with compassion. We mourn Charlie’s death and pray for his family and loved ones. We affirm his life mattered, as all lives do. Second, with discernment. We refuse to let images, however sentimental or stirring, distract us from Christ’s call to love mercy, do justice, and walk humbly. And third, with courage. We must not confuse loud platforms with faithful witness. The measure of the gospel is not the number of followers one amasses, but the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22–23).

Let us grieve as Christians who hope, but let us also guard the gospel entrusted to us. Christ alone is Lord. No leader—no matter how loved or influential—can bear that title.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
The gospel is not advanced by platforms or politics, but by lives that bear the fruit of Christ’s Spirit.

PRAYER
Merciful God, you alone are worthy of our allegiance. Teach us to honor life without idolizing leaders. In our grief, give us compassion; in our confusion, give us discernment; in our witness, give us courage. Keep us centered on Christ alone, who is the way, the truth, and the life. Amen.


Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).

REVISITED: SON OF GOD: Holy Saturday

Read Matthew 27:62-66

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“’Go out and stand before Me on the mountain,’ the LORD told him. And as Elijah stood there, the LORD passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.” (1 Kings 19:11-13a NLT)

Image: AI-generated using Adobe Firefly and customized by the author in Photoshop. Used with the devotional “SON OF GOD: Holy Saturday” at Life-Giving Water Devotions.

Today is Holy Saturday, which is the day in between Jesus’ death and his resurrection. It is on this day that his disciples sat in hiding. It is on this day that the uncertainty of death hung over them like a shroud, clouding them with the fear of the unknown and paralyzing them in that fear. They had followed Jesus for three long years and had invested all of their hopes and expectations in him. Now he was dead, gone, and the silence of the tomb echoed in their psyche about as loudly as a shrill scream in the night.

On the flip side, the powers that be that opposed Jesus were scrambling to keep the silence from becoming to uncertain. Caiaphas and other religious leaders were holding a meeting with the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, regarding what they were going to do with this dead trouble maker named Jesus. The religious leaders were claiming that his disciples might come and snatch the body in order to make false claims about some sort of bodily resurrection. Out of fear that the body might disappear, they all decided that it would be best if guards were posted at the tomb to ensure that nothing happened to the body.” These men, too, were disturbed by the silence of the tomb, for they were afraid it might remain silent. So they did everything they could to ensure that it would.

The silence of death and the tomb affects each of us in many different ways. It seems so final, yet so uncertain, and we are left feeling not only loss by a sense of hopelessness. And I need not be talking about the physical death of any one person, but death in the broader sense. Throughout life, aspects of our lives die off. We come to identify ourselves one way, or another, and for a season that identification endures; however, there comes a point when that identity, that aspect, that part of us dies off and we are with a tremendous sense of loss and of fear. Who are we? How do we respond to this particular loss? Do we, like the disciples, hide in the shadows afraid of what lies next? Or do we, like the religious and political leaders of Jesus’ day, place guard over the tomb to make sure nothing is out of our control?

Both of the above questions are pathways that we can take? Both seek to hang onto whatever control we have left. Paralysis and overreaction are on the opposite side of the same coin of control. However, there is a third option. We need not hide in the shadows or overreact in some outlandish way or through some sort of crazy power grab; rather, we have the option of letting go. We have the option of allowing the silence of the tomb to speak for itself. We have the option of letting go of control and allowing God to work resurrection in our lives. The reality is that no matter what we do, whether we hide in the shadows or stand guard over the tomb, that stone will be bursting forth with or without us. The question is not “if”, but “when.” When the Son of God sparks resurrection in your life, will be open to it or will you let it pass you by? The silence of the tomb gives you ample time to reflect on that very question. May that reflection be rich in the darkness and the silence of the tomb.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
“No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.” – Steve Jobs

PRAYER
Lord, prepare me for the death in life, and for the death of life, for I know that all ends are the beginnings of something new. Amen.

Rubber Meet Road

Read Daniel 6:1–23

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
But Peter and the apostles replied, “We must obey God rather than any human authority” (Acts 5:29 NLT).

Image: AI-generated using Adobe Firefly and customized by the author. Used with the devotional “Rubber Meet Road” at Life-Giving Water Devotions.

There are moments when being a Christian stops being theoretical and becomes painfully, inconveniently real.

Meet three people from the same faith community—just everyday followers of Jesus. They aren’t famous. They’re not trying to make headlines. But in the quiet corners of their town, each one faces a moment when the law and love pull in opposite directions.

Elaine walks through the park after sunset, just as she’s done every Thursday night since joining the church’s outreach team. She sees the usual group of folks huddled on benches—coats pulled tight, bags beneath their heads. A posted sign reads: “No loitering after dusk.” She hesitates. She’s been warned before. But tonight is bitter cold. So she slips away, returns with blankets and handwarmers, and leaves them gently by each sleeper. Daniel flashes through her mind—praying though it was forbidden, trusting that faithfulness was worth the risk. (Daniel 6)

Marcus meets every Sunday with his small group just after worship. For years they’ve packed lunches—sandwiches, fruit, water—and handed them out near the bus depot downtown. Last week, a city official approached with a clipboard: “You need a permit for this. Next time, there may be a fine.” The group nods politely. And the next Sunday, they’re right back at it. As they prepare the lunches, Marcus thinks of Jesus’ words: “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:40)

Rosa, the lay leader, hears from a member about a young family facing deportation. No paperwork. No recourse. No home. Their child plays in the same Sunday school class as her grandson. Her church isn’t a formal sanctuary congregation. There are rules. Zoning laws. Insurance policies. But Rosa knows the Spirit’s pull. That night, she quietly makes a few calls, finds a room in the church basement, and opens the door. She doesn’t need a chapter and verse—just the clear memory of Jesus saying, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Luke 10:27)

Each of them broke something—an ordinance, a policy, a protocol. But none of them broke faith. In fact, they kept it.

These aren’t dramatic revolutions. They’re quiet refusals to let legality define morality. Their choices may not change the law, but they reveal a deeper allegiance—to the One who called us to love without condition, defend the vulnerable, and follow Christ, no matter what road that leads us down.

Centuries earlier, Daniel faced a similar choice. He wasn’t staging a protest or shouting in the streets—he was simply praying. But his quiet faithfulness was still seen as a threat, because it revealed where his true allegiance lay. Whether he had prayed in silence or preached in the streets, his loyalty to God would’ve still brought him into conflict with unjust power.

Likewise, Peter and the apostles stood before the religious authorities and boldly declared, “We must obey God rather than any human authority.” Their faith was not performative—it was defiant in the most faithful way. They were committed to the reign of God, even when it meant confrontation with the kingdoms of humanity.

They were not alone. Moses defied Pharaoh. Esther approached the king unsummoned. Elijah and Elisha stood against corrupt kings. Jeremiah was arrested for speaking God’s word. Jesus healed on the Sabbath and violated religious norms. Peter, James, John, Paul, Stephen—none of them bowed to unjust rules when those rules conflicted with the call of God’s justice and mercy.

That’s why we need to remember stories like Daniel’s. He didn’t go looking for trouble—he just refused to abandon his rhythm of faith when unjust laws tried to shut it down. And the lions didn’t come because he was loud or reckless. They came because he stayed faithful.

We often assume that because Daniel survived the lions’ den, it proves God was on his side. But that’s a dangerous way to measure faithfulness. Had Daniel been torn apart, it still would have been God who called him to kneel in prayer. Deliverance doesn’t prove obedience; obedience proves faith. Jesus wasn’t spared. Neither were Peter, Paul, or James. They all died serving God—and they were never more faithful than in their final steps.

Faith meets the road where policy and compassion collide—where following Jesus costs something real. Not just our comfort, but sometimes our reputation. Our relationships. Our standing. And in some cases, even our safety. That’s the place where obedience becomes more than personal belief—it becomes embodied conviction.

To follow Christ is to step into that space where grace challenges power, and where love disrupts what the world considers “law and order.” It’s not always dramatic. Often, it’s just showing up. Standing firm. Saying no. Opening the door. Offering the blanket. Refusing to walk past the need.

And yes—it’s costly. But that cost is the confirmation that our faith is alive and real. That’s where the rubber meets the road.

And the good news? We never walk that road alone.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Where your faith meets real life, does it bend toward comfort—or conviction?

PRAYER
Lord Jesus, give me the courage to obey You even when it’s not easy or convenient. Teach me to discern when laws uphold justice—and when they do not. May I never confuse legality with righteousness. Help me walk in love, speak with grace, and act with bold faith when the rubber meets the road. Amen.


Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).

KEEP CHRIST IN CHRISTIAN, Part 14: Don’t Let Fear Overshadow Faith

Read 1 John 4:13-21

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline” (2 Timothy 1:7 NLT).

We’ve all seen those bumper stickers and church signs urging us to “Keep Christ in Christmas.” Well-intentioned? Sure. But often missing the mark? Absolutely. They focus on preserving a commercialized image of “baby Jesus” rather than embracing the full, transformative power of Christ in our lives. The real challenge isn’t just keeping Christ in a holiday—it’s keeping Christ in Christian.

Image: AI-generated by Rev. Todd R. Lattig using Adobe Firefly and modified by the author.

Part 14: Don’t Let Fear Overshadow Faith. In a previous devotion, “THE FORCE WITHIN, part 1: From Darkness to Light,” we explored Luke Skywalker’s journey in the cave on Dagobah, where he confronted the darkness within himself. This pivotal moment in Luke’s journey serves as a powerful reminder of the importance of facing our fears and trusting in a higher power.

As we reflect on Luke’s experience, we’re reminded that fear is a universal human emotion. It’s natural to feel afraid when we’re faced with uncertainty or danger. However, when fear overshadows our faith, it can lead us astray. Luke’s journey in the cave illustrates this struggle. Guided by Yoda’s wisdom, Luke was encouraged to confront his fears without relying on his physical strength. This was a test of his faith in the Force, a trust that would ultimately empower him to overcome the darkness he faced.

In the cave, Luke encountered a vision of Darth Vader, symbolizing his deepest fears—fear of losing control, fear of becoming like his father, and fear of succumbing to the Dark Side. When he ultimately beheaded Vader, only to reveal his own face beneath the mask, Luke was forced to confront the potential darkness within himself. This moment was not just a physical confrontation but a symbolic one, highlighting Luke’s inner struggle with fear and the need to trust in the Force.

This journey mirrors our own struggle with fear and faith. In 1 John 4:13-21, we’re reminded that perfect love drives out fear. When we let fear overshadow our faith, we risk losing sight of God’s power and love in our lives. Just as Luke needed to learn to trust in the Force, we must learn to trust in God’s guidance and wisdom. This passage emphasizes the importance of living in love and faith, rather than fear, and how this transforms our relationship with God and others.

In 2 Timothy 1:7, Paul writes, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline” (NLT). This verse underscores that our faith should empower us to overcome fear, not be controlled by it. When we face our fears with faith, we open ourselves to a deeper understanding of God’s will and a stronger connection with God’s love.

Luke’s journey reminds us that facing our fears is essential to growing in faith. It requires courage to confront what we fear, but it is in these moments that we discover the true strength of our faith. By trusting in God’s power and love, we can overcome fear and find peace, even in the midst of uncertainty.

As we conclude this reflection, let us remember that our faith is not a shield against fear, but a beacon of hope that guides us through it. May we, like Luke, find the courage to confront our deepest fears and trust in God’s wisdom, knowing that His love and power are always with us. In this trust, we can move forward with confidence, not letting fear overshadow our faith, but instead, letting faith illuminate our path forward.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Faith is not the absence of fear, but the courage to face it with trust in God.

PRAYER
God, help us to trust Your power and love above our fears. May Your guidance lead us closer to You each day. Amen.


Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of Perplexity AI.

KEEP CHRIST IN CHRISTIAN: part 12: Don’t Assimilate at the Expense of Faith

Read John 17:14-16

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect” (Romans 12:2 NLT).

We’ve all seen those bumper stickers and church signs urging us to “Keep Christ in Christmas.” Well-intentioned? Sure. But often missing the mark? Absolutely. They focus on preserving a commercialized image of “baby Jesus” rather than embracing the full, transformative power of Christ in our lives. The real challenge isn’t just keeping Christ in a holiday—it’s keeping Christ in Christian.

Image: AI-generated by Rev. Todd R. Lattig using Adobe Firefly and modified by the author.

Part 12: Don’t Assimilate at the Expense of Faith. Picture a vibrant coral reef, teeming with life. Each fish, each creature, has its unique color, shape, and role in the ecosystem. Now imagine a newcomer—a bright, tropical fish—swept in by ocean currents. At first, it stands out, its brilliant hues a stark contrast to its surroundings. Some of the reef’s inhabitants are wary, others curious. The newcomer faces a choice: blend in, losing its distinctive beauty, or remain true to its nature while finding its place in the reef.

This scenario mirrors the challenge Christians face in today’s world. We’re called to be in the world but not of it, to engage with our culture without being consumed by it. Like that vibrant fish, we might feel pressure to dim our light, to assimilate at the expense of our faith.

One of the most pervasive forms of assimilation is political tribalism. Christians often find themselves aligning with political parties or ideologies, sometimes prioritizing party ideology and loyalty over biblical principles. This tribalism can lead us to demonize those who disagree with us, forgetting that our ultimate allegiance is to God’s kingdom, not earthly political systems.

Equally dangerous is the embrace of relativistic moral views. In a culture that increasingly rejects absolute truth, Christians may be tempted to soften their stance on moral issues to avoid conflict. However, this compromise undermines the foundation of our faith and the transformative power of the Gospel.

The adoption of cultural individualism poses another threat. Our society often celebrates personal autonomy above all else, but this mindset can lead us away from the communal nature of faith that Jesus emphasized. We’re called to be part of a body, not isolated believers pursuing our own paths.

In our pursuit of comfort, we often neglect compassion. The ease of modern life can make us complacent, forgetting Christ’s call to serve others and stand up for justice. This comfort-seeking attitude can lead us to ignore the suffering around us, contradicting Jesus’ example of self-sacrifice.

While less prominent, other forms of assimilation can still erode our faith. Prioritizing career success over ethical integrity, adopting consumerist attitudes that value possessions over people, embracing cynicism and apathy in the face of challenges, and compartmentalizing our faith to certain areas of life all contribute to a weakened Christian witness.

However, perhaps the most subtle yet crucial form of assimilation lies in neglecting spiritual disciplines. In the busyness of life, prayer, Bible study, and worship can take a back seat. Without these practices anchoring us, we become more susceptible to worldly influences and lose our distinctive Christian identity. This neglect undermines our ability to resist all other forms of assimilation.

Paul’s words in Romans 12:2 challenge us: “Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think.” This transformation is not about isolating ourselves from the world, but about maintaining our distinct identity in Christ while engaging with our surroundings. Paul himself, along with other early church apostles, exemplified this approach. They didn’t isolate themselves from the world; instead, they actively engaged with it. They navigated complex cultural and political landscapes, sometimes even complying with local customs when necessary, but they never conformed to values that contradicted their faith.

This approach was characteristic of the early Christian church as a whole. They lived in a society that often viewed them with suspicion or hostility. Yet they didn’t retreat into isolated communities. Instead, they became known for their love, their service to others, and their unwavering faith—even in the face of persecution. Their example shows us how to be in the world but not of it, maintaining our Christian distinctiveness while still effectively reaching out to others.

Today, we face different challenges, but the principle remains the same. We’re called to be salt and light in our world, to influence without being influenced, to transform without being conformed. This doesn’t mean being combative or judgmental. Rather, it’s about living out our faith authentically, allowing the love of Christ to shine through us.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
In the world, but not of it—we are called to show Christ’s love while standing firm in our faith.

PRAYER
Gracious God, give us the courage to live authentically as Your followers in a world that often pulls us in different directions. Help us to engage with our culture without compromising our faith, to love boldly while standing firm in Your truth. May our lives reflect Your light and draw others to You. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.


Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of Perplexity AI.

KEEP CHRIST IN CHRISTIAN, part 5: Don’t Neglect the Holy Spirit

Read 2 Timothy 1:6-8

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you will be my witnesses, telling people about me everywhere—in Jerusalem, throughout Judea, in Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8 NLT)

We’ve all seen the bumper magnets and bulletin signs urging us to “Keep Christ in Christmas.” While well-intentioned, this phrase often misses the mark. It focuses on preserving a commercialized image of “baby Jesus” rather than embracing the full, transformative power of Christ in our lives. The real challenge we face isn’t just keeping Christ in a holiday—it’s keeping Christ in Christian.

Image: AI-generated by Rev. Todd R. Lattig using Adobe Firefly and modified by the author.

Part 5: Don’t Neglect the Holy Spirit: Life isn’t always easy. Sometimes, it is easier than others, but we all go through tough experiences that we wouldn’t wish on our worst enemies. To do so would only make us guilty of the same kind of hate they stand guilty of. We must refuse to let that happen to us.

My own journey with the Holy Spirit began in an unexpected place: the school playground. When I was in third grade, I started to get bullied. There was this one kid, Mike, who I was friends with until the day he started to bully another kid. Having been raised in a strong Christian home, I knew that wasn’t behavior I should engage in. So, I said no. Well, that suddenly made me an enemy, and Mike would soon get other kids to start making fun of me too. Sadly, this behavior continued from there through high school, growing more extreme as we got older.

One day, outside after lunch for recess, a group of kids, led by Mike, started to make fun of me, threatening to beat me up. I remember being in fear and walking backward up a hill, afraid to turn my back to them. They kept advancing toward me. I was frozen… terrified… and then it came to me. If Jesus was with me, who could stand against me? So, I pointed my finger at them and exclaimed at the top of my voice, “In the name of Jesus, leave me alone Satan.”

Now, here’s the funniest thing. Those bullies started to laugh at me. Well, that’s not the funniest thing. That is what one would expect to happen. Miraculously, though, as they were laughing, they were also walking backwards and eventually turned and walked away. Now, I wouldn’t bank on that “trick” to always be a lifesaving hack against bullies. Rather, it was the power of the Holy Spirit working through my faith in Jesus Christ.

This experience illustrates the transformative power of faith and the Holy Spirit in times of fear and adversity. When we neglect the Holy Spirit, we often rely on our own strength, which can leave us feeling powerless in the face of adversity. However, when we remember to call upon the name of Jesus and lean into the power of the Holy Spirit, we can find strength and courage beyond our own capabilities.

The Apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Timothy that “God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.” This power comes from the Holy Spirit, as Jesus promised his disciples in Acts 1:8. When we open ourselves to the Holy Spirit’s guidance and power, we become effective witnesses for Christ, even in the most challenging circumstances.

Neglecting the Holy Spirit can lead to a faith that’s more about our own efforts than God’s power working through us. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking we can live the Christian life through sheer willpower or by following a set of rules. But true Christian living is about allowing the Holy Spirit to transform us from the inside out.

When we actively engage with the Holy Spirit, we open ourselves to the Spirit’s guidance, comfort, and empowerment. We become more attuned to God’s voice and more capable of responding to God’s call with courage and conviction. The Holy Spirit enables us to bear fruit in our lives – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23).

As we seek to keep Christ in Christian, let’s remember that this includes embracing the full work of the Holy Spirit in our lives. Let’s fan into flame the gift of God within us, not neglecting the power, love, and self-discipline that come from the Spirit. May we, like that scared child on the playground, find the courage to face our fears and challenges through the power of the Holy Spirit.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
“The Holy Spirit is not a blessing from God, the Holy Spirit is God.” – Reinhard Bonnke

PRAYER
God, forgive us for the times we’ve neglected the Holy Spirit in our lives. Help us to be more aware of the Spirit’s presence and power. May we lean on Your strength, not our own, and may we be bold witnesses for You in all circumstances. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

All Aboard the Faith Express

Read Isaiah 11:1-10

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“And in another place Isaiah said, ‘The heir to David’s throne will come, and he will rule over the Gentiles. They will place their hope on him'” (Romans 15:12 NLT).

Image created by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of AI developed by Microsoft.

The concept of “Christmasland” can evoke different images. In Joe Hill’s novel NOS4A2, it’s portrayed as a sinister place where a supernatural villain takes kidnapped children, promising eternal happiness but delivering a twisted, soulless existence. This dark portrayal serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of seeking fulfillment in false promises or superficial joy.

However, in the beloved children’s story and film The Polar Express, we encounter a different kind of journey to a Christmas wonderland – one that leads to growth, belief, and the true spirit of the season. This stark contrast invites us to reflect on the nature of our own spiritual journeys and the authenticity of our faith.

As we embark on our Advent journey, Isaiah’s prophecy paints a picture of hope and renewal. A shoot springing from a seemingly dead stump, bringing new life and possibility. This promised ruler will usher in an era of justice, righteousness, and peace – a vision that may seem too good to be true in our often chaotic world. Yet, it’s this very promise that we’re called to anticipate and believe in during the Advent season.

The Polar Express invites us to take a leap of faith, much like the child in the story who boards a magical train to the North Pole. This journey isn’t about escaping reality or finding a superficial “Christmasland,” but about rediscovering wonder and belief. As the train winds its way through the night, the passengers face doubts and challenges, mirroring our own spiritual journeys. The conductor, much like our spiritual leaders, guides them with wisdom and care, echoing the righteous leader described in Isaiah 11:3-5.

The film’s depiction of the North Pole isn’t a deceptive paradise, but represents the destination of a transformative journey. It’s a place where the true spirit of Christmas – generosity, kindness, and faith – comes alive. This echoes the promise in Romans 15:12, where the hope brought by the Messiah extends to all nations. The diverse group of children on the train symbolizes this inclusive nature of God’s call, reminding us that the journey of faith is open to all who choose to believe.

As we anticipate Christ’s coming, we’re called to embrace a childlike faith – not naive or escapist, but open to wonder and transformation. The journey in The Polar Express reminds us that belief often requires taking steps into the unknown, trusting even when we can’t see the full picture. This mirrors our own faith journey, where we’re asked to trust in God’s promises even when our circumstances seem bleak or uncertain.

The magical bell from Santa’s sleigh in the film serves as a powerful metaphor for faith. Only those who truly believe can hear its sweet sound. Similarly, recognizing God’s work in our lives often requires a heart attuned to His presence. As we journey through Advent, we’re invited to “listen” for God’s presence in our lives, to be attentive to the ways God’s working, even when it’s not immediately apparent.

In this Advent season, let’s approach our faith journey with the wide-eyed wonder of a child on the Polar Express. May we be open to moments of transformation, ready to have our perspectives shifted and our hearts renewed. Though the world around us may be chaotic, we can find peace and stability in the promise of Christ’s reign. Let us anticipate not a superficial “Christmasland,” but the true joy and peace that come from a genuine encounter with the Christ child.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Faith, like the magic of Christmas, requires us to believe in what we cannot always see. As we journey through Advent, may we cultivate a spirit of anticipation and wonder, trusting in God’s promises even when they seem impossible.

PRAYER
God of hope, renew our childlike faith and help us to see Your work in the world around us. Amen.

Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of Perplexity AI.

Awakening Faith

Read 2 Chronicles 7:11-16

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“Won’t you revive us again, so your people can rejoice in you?” (Psalm 85:6 NLT)

Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” has long been my favorite novel, horror or otherwise. Written in the post-Enlightenment era, it masterfully balances religious faith and scientific reasoning, acknowledging the reality of spiritual warfare in a world increasingly skeptical of the supernatural. The titular villain embodies pure evil, challenging the characters’ nominal faith and pushing them towards a profound spiritual awakening.

What I admire most about “Dracula” is its nuanced portrayal of faith and reason coexisting. The characters, products of their time, initially approach the vampire threat with scientific skepticism. However, as they confront the undeniable reality of Dracula’s evil, they experience a revival of religious faith. This transformation echoes God’s words in 2 Chronicles 7:14, where God calls people to humble themselves, pray, and turn from their wicked ways.

Mina Murray Harker’s character particularly stands out. In an era when women were often relegated to passive roles, Mina demonstrates remarkable agency and intelligence. Her contributions prove instrumental in defeating Dracula, highlighting the importance of every individual in spiritual battles. Stoker’s portrayal of Mina is impressive, given the period’s typical gender norms. She is not merely a damsel in distress; rather, she is a key player whose intellect and bravery are crucial to the group’s success. Without Mina, Dracula would have triumphed, underscoring her significant role in the narrative.

The novel’s central theme of faith revival resonates deeply with our contemporary world. Like the characters in “Dracula,” many of us may find our faith dormant until confronted with overwhelming challenges. The story reminds us that true faith is not merely nominal or cultural, but a living, active force that empowers us to confront evil. The characters start as nominal Christians, their faith more a product of their cultural upbringing than a deeply held belief. It is only when faced with the tangible evil of Dracula that they turn earnestly to their faith, seeking divine intervention and protection.

As we reflect on this, let’s consider areas in our lives where our faith may have grown lukewarm. Are we, like the characters in “Dracula,” in need of a spiritual awakening? Just as they had to believe in Dracula’s existence before they could defeat him, we too must acknowledge the reality of spiritual warfare to effectively engage in it. The battle against Dracula is not just a physical one but a spiritual one, requiring the characters to embrace their faith fully. This mirrors our own spiritual journeys, where we must often confront our doubts and fears to strengthen our faith.

There’s a tragic irony in the fact that it took the presence of pure evil, embodied by Dracula, for the characters to recognize their desperate need for God’s love and protection. This serves as a poignant reminder that we often take our faith for granted until we face overwhelming challenges. It’s a sobering thought that sometimes it takes a crisis to awaken us to the reality of our spiritual condition and our dependence on God.

God promises in 2 Chronicles 7:15-16 that God’s eyes will be open and ears attentive to our prayers. This assurance is a powerful reminder that we are not alone in our struggles. God invites us to seek earnestly, to revive our faith, and to stand firm against the forces of darkness. Like Mina and her companions, we can play a crucial role in God’s plan when we fully embrace our faith and use our unique gifts in service. The revival of faith in “Dracula” is a testament to the transformative power of belief and the importance of relying on divine strength in times of crisis.

In our own lives, we may face challenges that test our faith and push us to seek a deeper connection with God. Whether we are dealing with personal struggles, societal issues, or spiritual battles, the lesson from “Dracula” is clear: a revived faith is our strongest weapon against evil. By turning to God with humility and sincerity, we can find the strength and guidance needed to overcome any obstacle. Let us not wait for a “Dracula” in our lives to awaken our faith, but rather cultivate a vibrant relationship with God in both times of peace and turmoil.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Faith awakened is our strongest weapon against evil.

PRAYER
Lord, revive our faith and open our eyes to Your reality in our lives. Amen. This version maintains the original message while removing some redundancies for clarity and conciseness.

From Betrayal to Brilliance

Read Psalm 55:1-14

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“Even my best friend, the one I trusted completely, the one who shared my food, has turned against me.” – Psalm 41:9 (NLT)

Image created by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of AI developed by Microsoft.

Life’s journey is often marked by challenges and opposition, testing our resolve and determination. In such moments, the story of Tara Westover, as depicted in her memoir “Educated,” serves as a powerful testament to the transformative power of perseverance. Her story resonates with the anguish expressed in Psalm 55, where the psalmist laments the betrayal of a close friend, echoing the pain of being betrayed by those we trust the most.

Tara Westover was born into a strict, survivalist Mormon family in rural Idaho, where formal education was viewed with suspicion. Her childhood was marked by physical labor, lack of medical care, and the constant threat of violence from her own brother. Despite these formidable obstacles, Tara’s thirst for knowledge and her unwavering determination to pursue an education propelled her forward.

Like the psalmist who cried out to God in distress, Tara’s journey was fraught with emotional turmoil and betrayal from those closest to her. Her decision to seek an education was met with resistance and abuse from her family, who saw it as a betrayal of their values. Yet, she persevered, teaching herself enough to pass the ACT and gain admission to Brigham Young University.

Tara’s path was not an easy one. She encountered a world vastly different from the one she had known, and she struggled to reconcile her new experiences with the beliefs instilled in her from childhood. Her pursuit of knowledge took her to Harvard and eventually to Cambridge University, where she earned a PhD. However, her academic success came at a high cost – the deterioration of her relationship with her family, who viewed her quest for education as a betrayal.

In Psalm 41:9, we read, “Even my best friend, the one I trusted completely, the one who shared my food, has turned against me.” These words resonate with Tara’s experience of betrayal by those she loved and trusted the most. Yet, her story is not one of defeat but of triumph – a testament to the power of resilience and the pursuit of truth.

Tara’s memoir, “Educated,” is a narrative of redemption and self-discovery. Despite the betrayal and abuse, she found the strength to forgive and move forward. Her journey mirrors the psalmist’s cry for deliverance and the ultimate hope for redemption, reminding us that even in the darkest moments, there is a path to brilliance and fulfillment.

As we reflect on Tara’s story, we can draw parallels to our own lives. Many of us have faced betrayal by those we trusted, whether it be friends, family members, or colleagues. Such experiences can leave us feeling isolated and disheartened. However, Tara’s story teaches us that we have the power to rise above these challenges. By holding onto our faith and remaining steadfast in our pursuit of truth and personal growth, we can overcome the pain of betrayal and emerge stronger.

In our own lives, we may encounter situations where our values and aspirations are misunderstood or opposed by those around us. It is in these moments that we must remember the words of Psalm 55 and Psalm 41:9. We must turn to God for strength and guidance, trusting that God will lead us through the storm. Just as Tara found solace and strength in her pursuit of education, we too can find our path to healing and redemption by staying true to our convictions and seeking God’s wisdom.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Betrayal by those we trust can be one of the most painful experiences in life. Yet, through faith and perseverance, we can find healing and redemption.

PRAYER
Lord, grant us the strength to persevere through opposition and betrayal. May we find solace in Your unwavering love and guidance, and may our journeys lead us to the brilliance and fulfillment that You have in store for us. Amen.

Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of Perplexity AI.