CONVERSION OR REBIRTH?
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, September 12, 2026 – As many of you know, I was reborn from atheism. No-one preached to me; I didn’t struggle with giving up vices or wondering whether one doctrine was superior to another: I simply submitted to God not even knowing it was God I was submitting to, and he healed me. By “healed”, I mean he exorcised all the demons that were in me and replaced them with his Holy Spirit.
I was reborn before I knew I was reborn. I was a believer even before I knew what I believed. My belief didn’t result from indoctrination but from the sudden inrush of God’s Holy Spirit into my soul, where it’s been ever since. I was a believer the instant I was reborn; I was reborn and instantly believed. The two—rebirth and belief—are inseparable, as belief expresses the presence of God’s Holy Spirit in a soul. Without that abiding presence, there is no God-given belief, only a desire to believe or an “I think I believe” or a belief that waxes and wanes with life’s circumstances.
I mention this because the two terms “rebirth” and “conversion” are often used interchangeably, including by me. Yet what is meant by these terms can be something entirely different. Rebirth is what I touched on above, whereas conversion can mean rebirth or it can mean a change—sudden or gradual—from one state to another, from one frame of mind to another, from one lifestyle to another, without God’s violent intervention. In conversions without rebirth, alcoholics embrace sobriety, Lotharios swear off women, and party girls vow chastity, all while subsuming their newfound “righteous living” under a Christian framework. These and similar changes, though commendable, are self-imposed and self-directed rather than God-imposed and God-directed, which means they’re difficult to sustain and typically end in failure, even with ongoing support from a congregation or other helping hand.
A massive portion of the worldly church is made up of such converts. Unfortunately, they struggle with their faith as much as with their day-to-day lives. Not having God and Jesus as their counsellors, they lean on friends, mentors, spouses, colleagues, doctors, life coaches, etc., gaining a form of worldly wisdom but not the wisdom that comes from above. They share the same desires and problems as the world, and they respond to those desires and problems in the same way as the world. Eventually, usually during a crisis (like the death of a child or other major loss), some converts relapse and leave Christianity altogether.
On the other hand, some non-reborn converts harden in place and neither grow nor shrink, like the scribes and Pharisees, lawyers and Sadducees mentioned in scripture. They either build ministries themselves or become ministers and priests in established Christian strongholds, wholly devoted to their denominations and creeds rather than to God and his Word. They serve “the church” instead of serving God and approach their faith as a job rather than a relationship with God and Jesus through God’s Holy Spirit. And while they may be faithful in doing their job—some are enormously faithful in their jobs—they have little joy in the doing of it and are constantly battling temptation.
I do not mean to belittle anyone here, including myself. I’m merely pointing out the difference between conversion that results from rebirth and conversion that does not. As I mentioned at the outset, the terms “rebirth” and “conversion” are used interchangeably, which can lead to confusion. A convert who is not reborn lowers his or her chances of remaining a Christian, whereas a convert who is reborn dare not lose the presence of God’s Holy Spirit, because there’s no way to get it back, and the exit of God’s Spirit from a soul guarantees eternal damnation.
The stakes are infinitely higher for a reborn convert than for a non-reborn convert, just as life circumstances and source of belief are entirely different. At his ascension, Jesus warned his disciples not to be “witnesses” of the Gospel until they’d received God’s Holy Spirit, which they then did ten days later at Pentecost. Rebirth conversion is sudden, violent, glorious, ecstatic, and undeniably real. It also lasts a lifetime, except in very rare cases. Non-rebirth conversions are nothing like that and often end in failure or greatly diminished faith.
Rebirth is conversion, but conversion is not always rebirth. As bornagain believers, we need to be acutely aware of these differences when we interact with the worldly church and with the world.
WHY PARABLES?
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, September 12, 2026 – Why did Jesus teach in parables? Why did he not, like the Old Testament prophets, just blast out a “thus saith the Lord” and then proceed to proclaim precisely whatever was on his (and God’s) mind? As bornagain believers, we sit at Jesus’ feet (or on God’s lap) and are taught in plain speech, but for those who are not God’s children—that is, for those who have ears to hear but hear not, and eyes to see, but see not—other teaching methods are required. Parables fit the bill perfectly.
First and foremost, though, it needs to be stated that Jesus taught in parables because it was prophesied that the Messiah would teach in parables. Teaching in parables was one of the sure-fire signs of the Messiah. And so, being the Messiah, Jesus could therefore not not teach in parables. In other words, it would have been impossible for him not to teach in parables and still be the Messiah.
Secondly, teaching in parables was a way of getting the Gospel message across to the spiritually deaf and blind, who would otherwise be unable to receive it. God withheld spiritual hearing and sight from these people, but they still needed to learn right from wrong (or, for some who would later convert, to learn about the Kingdom). Parables helped to override spiritual disabilities.
Then there were those who, from the get-go, wanted nothing to do with God. This was a whole different level of spiritual blindness and deafness. Parables “hid” the presence of God in engaging stories, much like puréed broccoli can be “hidden” in spaghetti sauce to get kids to eat their veggies. The broccoli by itself they might outright reject, but the spaghetti sauce with the hidden broccoli – YUM! Similarly, talking about God under another guise can draw in the spiritually challenged without them even knowing they’re learning about God. They just think they’re eating spaghetti! ;D
Additionally, among the spiritually deaf and blind in Jesus’ day were those who deemed the Gospel “hate speech” (blasphemy) and a direct attack on the governing authorities. Teaching in parables afforded Jesus protection from arrest, and so he candy-coated his message for public consumption. Even so, he was banned from public discourse in many parts of Judea, and he accordingly avoided those areas. But in private discourse among his disciples and other close followers, Jesus dispensed with the coating, serving the Gospel straight up with detailed explanations, like he still does for us today.
Finally, the parables, being story-oriented, paint a vivid picture using strong and recognizable characters doing relatable things. We recognize the characters in our lives and even relate to some. If we aren’t the father of the prodigal son, we’re the prodigal son; if we aren’t the father or the prodigal son, we’re likely the resentful older brother. If we aren’t the father, the prodigal son or the older brother, we probably know people just like them. Being able to recognize these characters in our own lives helps to personalize the message, which then helps us to relate to the parable, making it easier to recall, retell, and absorb.
Whether because it was prophesied, or because it worked around spiritual challenges, or because it afforded a level of protection from authorities, or because it was just a handy way to tell a good story, teaching in parables was God’s chosen way for Jesus to preach the Word in public. Following Jesus’ example, we should still be preaching parables in public today, serving up “plain broccoli” for believers only.
LAST SECOND: ON THE WOMAN CAUGHT IN ADULTERY
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, September 9, 2026 – One of my favourite parts of John’s gospel is the section at the start of Chapter 8 about the woman caught in adultery. In those verses, we see how Jesus dealt with her compared to how the scribes and Pharisees wanted her dealt with. You can read the verses here.
First of all, you can tell by the triumphant tone of the scribes and Pharisees that they thought the whole issue was a slam-dunk. Not only was the Commandment rock-solid that adultery was forbidden, but Jewish law stated that those who committed that sin were to be stoned to death. The woman had been caught in the act, presumably by more than one witness, and had said nothing in her own defence, which indicated that she had acknowledged her guilt. Although the verses don’t describe the woman, you can imagine the disheveled state of her hair and clothing, her tear-streaked face that she tried unsuccessfully to hide as she was dragged (paraded) through the streets. You can imagine her agonizing shame at the jeers and leers that were thrown at her, possibly even by people who knew her and/or her family. You can imagine that for the woman caught “in the very act”, this was likely the very worst moment of her life.
Enter Jesus. As was his habit, he’d been teaching in the temple, using the loose dirt on the ground as a chalkboard and his finger as chalk. He likely heard the commotion caused by the vigilantes long before he saw them, and once he did see them, he knew exactly what they were up to: They had come to tempt him.
In response, Jesus immediately steeled himself to deal with his tempters by opening an emergency prayer line to God.
After the scribes and Pharisees had presented the woman to Jesus and described her sin, Jesus appeared to ignore them. Scripture states that he leaned down and continued to finger-write on the ground as if they weren’t even there. The verse literally states that he acted “as if he heard them not”, which indicates that he not only probably hadn’t said a word to them yet, but he hadn’t reacted to them in any way.
You can imagine the accusers’ barely suppressed outrage at Jesus’ unexpected silence. You can imagine the restless quiet of the mob that had followed the posse to the temple. Perhaps the only sounds for the better part of a minute were the woman’s muffled sobs punctured by the occasional “Stone her!”… until Jesus finally emerged from his deep huddle with God, rose to his feet, and stated calmly: “He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone at her.”
They hadn’t expected this. They hadn’t expected their “gotcha!” moment to be thrown back in their faces. By publicly presenting the woman to Jesus, they had publicly deferred to his authority, meaning that they had to accept whatever he decreed. And what he decreed was that whoever was sinless among them—and only whoever was sinless—should begin the stoning.
Now, the scribes and Pharisees were a lot of things, but ignorant of the law was not one of them. They knew that if they presented themselves as sinless, they’d be guilty of blasphemy. The tables had been turned; the hunters were now prey. Knowing this, they had no choice but to withdraw themselves, which they did, leaving Jesus more or less alone with the woman.
The magnitude of God’s mercy is evident in the few words Jesus then exchanged with her. Jesus knew (because he knew people’s hearts) that the woman was deeply remorseful for what she’d done. He also knew that she was grateful to him for rescuing her. But sin is sin, and even when it’s resolved through God’s mercy, a finger of warning must be raised. This Jesus did by telling her not to sin again.
If I were a betting person, I’d bet that Jesus stared the woman straight in the face when he gave her the warning. I’d bet that the look in his eyes and the timbre of his voice stayed with her for the rest of her days, so that if she for even a brief moment so much as entertained a sinful thought, she’d see those eyes again and hear that voice. He gave her a second – but only a second – chance. If she sinned again, there’d be no more chances and no more mercy.
Ironically, Jesus himself could have initiated the stoning of the woman caught in adultery, since he was in fact the only one among them who was sinless. But he chose instead, under God’s guidance, to give the woman a second chance underscored by a final warning. This was mercy, yes, but not limitless mercy, not the “tolerant of sin” type of pseudo mercy that has become characteristic of so-called Christian dealings with the world. We are never to be tolerant of sin – NEVER – but we should also always be ready to extend mercy to the genuinely penitent when God indicates we should do so. We’ll know who are genuinely penitent because God will let us know, like he let Jesus know when he was seemingly off in his own little world, writing in the dirt.
Spiritually, we have all been that woman caught in adultery, in the very act. Had we not been, we wouldn’t be born again. We’ve all been given our second chance—our rebirth is our second chance—along with the warning not to sin again. Many of us have unwittingly come close to that precipice, only to be hauled back at the last second.
May we always be hauled back.
LAZARUS IN THE BALLROOM
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, September 2, 2026 – I had the opportunity recently to join a “by invitation only mind-body-soul recharge retreat” that promised I’d achieve my “best possible me” if I’d only fork over $42,000 for a six-week program. I’m not sure how I got on the invitation list, but the information session was free and offered refreshments, so I was in (at least for the refreshments). I arrived at the hotel ballroom to find a lavish spread hovered over by an army of such impeccably groomed and impeccably professional servers that I thought at first they might not be real. By “not real” I mean I thought they might be the latest version of those made-in-China A.I. humanoid robots I’d been reading about (I’m still kind of thinking they were). Munching a handful of tiny round crustless sandwiches and wondering how the heck I ended up there, I settled into a cushy banquet chair to listen to the sales pitch.
There were at least a hundred of us in the ballroom, not counting the maybe-robots and the “team” giving the presentation. Most of the invitees were carefully coifed women of a certain age and of a certain wealth, and most had that slightly bored air of females who’d never had to worry a day in their lives about money or men or really anything at all. Again, I’m not sure how I got on the invitation list (woman of a certain age, check; woman of a certain wealth, uncheck), but there I was sitting among them like the “before” to their “after” version of a Stepford wife. Still, someone must have thought I’d want to become my best possible me enough to send me an e-vite.
Or they’d sent it to the wrong email address.
During the course of the presentation, it was confirmed that the $42,000 price tag for the six-week program was in American dollars, not Canadian, and that the price did not include transportation to and from the retreat (a tropical island halfway around the world), additional recommended onsite amenities, and other out-of-pocket expenses. The unofficial total hovered around $100 grand (CAD), leaving me fully out of contention. I sighed, shook my head, downed the last of my last tiny sandwich, and prepared to leave. A program mentor (one of several stationed strategically around the room like butlers) who’d been monitoring the attendees for just such a reaction, glided discretely over to me. “There are grants”, he breathed deep into my ear, “that you can apply for to cover your costs. We can talk about it later….” I sensed rather than saw his lingering smile as he leaned into me from behind. His aftershave smelled edible and his tone had the kind of measured seductiveness that came from years of practice. I wagered he’d whispered that tone into many an ear after first perfecting it to his satisfaction on a recording device in front of a mirror.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. Who wouldn’t want to be their best possible mind-body-soul me while there was still time for such a thing to matter, and all for free? I looked at the servers. I looked at the “team”. I even snuck a quick peek at my mentor-butler, erect and alert as a sentry. What exactly was I being offered, and by whom?
When the presentation moved onto the Q & A portion, I ran what I knew so far about the program through the what-did-Jesus-do filter that I run all my considerations through. Did Jesus, during his ministry years, want to be his “best possible me”? I believe he did. Would he have paid strangers big bucks to help him achieve that? Not a chance. What if the fees were waived? I’m listening….
But Jesus did in fact do an approximately six-week mind-body-soul retreat, just before he started his ministry, though no swanky sales presentation preceded it and it didn’t cost a dime. He knew even before God’s Spirit drove him into the wilderness that he’d be facing 40 grueling days and nights of cold, thirst, hunger, isolation, and sleeping rough, all topped off with temptations so satanically personalized that nearly everyone falls for them 100% of the time. But he also knew that through it all he would be watched over and protected not only by a host of heavenly angels, but also by God himself, none of whom (I’m pretty sure) he suspected might be A.I. robots.
I’m happy to report that I ultimately resisted the ballroom temptation. Not that I don’t want to be my best possible me; of course I do. I just didn’t want to be the version they wanted to sell me. I didn’t want to “unlock my financial freedom”. I didn’t want to “maintain a youthful appearance”. I didn’t want to “captivate every room I walked into”. And I didn’t want “guaranteed success” no matter what I did. And why didn’t I want those things that seemingly everyone else in the world wants? Because I’m happily bornagain, which means I’m happy with whatever God gives me, happy to look my age, happy to be a wallflower (unless God himself shines a spotlight on me), and happy with only the success I’ve earned, not “success” that’s “guaranteed” simply for existing.
I admit that I was initially curious about whether I could be a child of God and still go on such a worldly retreat, but while I was mulling it over, God reminded me of Lazarus – the poor one covered in sores, not the other one Jesus raised from the dead. Jesus described the poor Lazarus as patiently enduring all the crap dumped on him during his time here on Earth, after which he was richly rewarded in Heaven, while the rich guy, who knew Lazarus only as a wretched lump lying outside his front gate, dined sumptuously (on tiny round crustless sandwiches?) before ending up someplace decidedly hotter than Heaven.
I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t want to burn for all eternity. Mind you, I also didn’t at first want to be Lazarus (I mean, who jumps at the opportunity to be destitute and covered in sores?). But if I have to choose between the two based on their eternal rewards (and we all have to make that choice, just like Jesus did in the wilderness), it’s Lazarus or bust.
Our time here is short. What we make of it is up to us. But if we choose options that are outside the will of God (that is, outside our best spiritual interests), we compromise our hereafter as well as our here and now. Being the best possible me in the eyes of the world is not the same as being the best possible me in the eyes of God. The two versions can sometimes not be farther apart.
We need reminding of this every now and then. And when we do, it usually comes in the strangest of places.
GREATER THAN MONEY
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, August 31, 2026 – Prior to starting his ministry, Jesus worked as a carpenter. By “worked”, I mean he offered his services in exchange for payment. Jesus either accepted money or bartered for the amount he’d negotiated for his carpentry services. There’s nothing in scripture that would indicate he’d done otherwise.
But when he started his ministry, his payment terms changed drastically. He no longer negotiated or demanded any payment at all for the ministry services he offered, whether healing, teaching, preaching, or just performing random miracles along the way. He did everything for free. There’s nothing in scripture that would indicate he did otherwise.
Still, Jesus needed money for his daily needs. We all need money for our daily needs. But what we don’t need is to charge a fee in exchange for our ministry services.
I’ve already stated here in this blog and elsewhere that anyone who charges a fee to preach is not bornagain. Ditto for people who charge a fee for praying, healing, teaching about the Kingdom, or otherwise providing information on spiritual development, including counseling. “Pay for pray” is a worldly (i.e., unregenerated) church phenomenon, as is demanding and accepting payment for preaching. The worldly church gets paid for this kind of work and does so with God’s permission (as Jesus said, they have their reward).
But we, as bornagain believers, must never request payment for doing God’s work because it’s not us doing the work: it’s God, by his Spirit, working through us. We must never ask for donations. We must never ask for an honorarium. We must never ask for payment for preaching and teaching the Word. Never. Not once. Not under any circumstance.
Don’t you dare.
Because if you ask for money for doing what you’ve received from God for free, God will take it from you in other ways, and with interest. You’ll end up much poorer financially and spiritually than you would have been had you not demanded payment. The worldly church, yes, gets paid in worldly ways, but God arranges for his children to be paid in different ways, and always more than enough.
You won’t have to ask; it will be offered.
Consider Jesus. He never charged anything for his ministry services, and yet he always had more than enough for his needs. People donated their money and resources without him having to ask. And on the rare occasion when his needs unexpectedly exceeded the norm and it appeared that he was going to come up short, God would provide a timely miracle, like placing the gold coin in the fish’s mouth so that Jesus could pay the tribute tax (with money to spare), or multiplying a handful of loaves and fishes so that Jesus could feed a multitude (with basketsful to spare).
I know, without your having to tell me, that God has provided you with more than one timely miracle since your rebirth. I know, because he’s done it for me, too. He does it for all his children, even without them having to ask him for help. In fact, the most substantial financial and other gifts I’ve received since my rebirth came out of the blue from sources I either didn’t previously know or didn’t suspect would want to help me. This is how God works, and it is an enormous blessing for us but even more so for the people who provide for us at God’s (usually anonymous) prompting.
Money is a worldly construct. As such, it has no place in God’s Kingdom. No genuine bornagain believers will accept payment for preaching and teaching the Word. If they did so in error, they’ll still suffer for it and will hopefully learn from their suffering not to do it again, knowing that the worst kind of suffering is separation from God. If you’re genuinely bornagain, demanding payment for doing God’s work will very swiftly separate you from God in the same way as purposely sinning will, and none of us want that. None of us want to be even a handsbreadth away from our heavenly Father. For us, separation from God is the worst state imaginable, much worse than an empty purse or a gnawing stomach. And if after doing God’s work we still end up broke and starving, it will only be to test us and will soon pass.
We know from the example set by Jesus that God provides for his children. From the start of his ministry, Jesus did his Father’s work diligently and for free, and so must we. No exceptions. As Jesus reminds us, you cannot serve God and mammon. The God we serve is greater than money. We don’t honor him by refusing to accept unsolicited donations (we must always accept those; never let pride stop you, as unsolicited donations are God-prompted and will bless the donor more than us). We honor God by refusing to demand payment for ministry services. In this as in all things, Jesus—not the worldly church—is our example.
The God we serve is greater than money.
The Good Lord provides.
ON HELPING THE UNHELPABLE
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, August 25, 2026 –As bornagain believers, we sometimes can’t help ourselves from helping. But God doesn’t always want us to help. Sometimes our desire to help gets in the way of God’s justice. This is a hard spiritual truth that most of us had to learn the hard way. Peter learned it the hard way when he declared that he’d die rather than let Jesus be killed, and Jesus called him Satan for his efforts. We definitely don’t want to be called Satan by Jesus. And we definitely don’t want to get in the way of God’s justice.
There are many reasons why God shut Noah and his family into the ark. It wasn’t just because it was time for them to be shut in. It wasn’t just because God didn’t want them to be traumatized by witnessing the flood. And it wasn’t just because God didn’t want them to try to rescue those who were not supposed to be rescued. But this last reason—preventing Noah and his family from rescuing those who were not meant to be rescued—is likely the main one. Because after they were shut into the ark and the waters were unleashed, Noah and his family would have heard the terrified screams of people crying out for help; they would have heard people pounding on the side of the ark, begging to be let in; they would have heard the pitiable and haunting moans of children and animals just before they drowned. They would have heard all these things, and being the kind souls they were, Noah and his family have wanted to help. (I would wager that Noah’s wife would especially have wanted to help). But God didn’t want them to help, so he not only shut them into the ark before the waters rose, he supernaturally sealed the door so that they couldn’t leave, so that they couldn’t try to help the unhelpable.
The ark’s design also prevented anyone from scaling the vessel to gain unlawful entry.
(God thinks of everything!)
In the past, I have been guilty of attempting to help the unhelpable. Of course, my efforts failed spectacularly, which is a very painful way to learn what must be learned. So now when I see people who look like they could use some help, I ask God first whether or not I should help, and if God says “Yes”, I do, but if God says “No”, I don’t. I don’t quibble and I don’t argue. I don’t try to wheel and deal. I accept God’s word as final and get on with my day.
When people choose evil and earn the rewards of their choice, you not only have to respect their right to choose, you also have to respect their due reward for having chosen evil. You especially have to respect their due reward, because if you don’t respect it and try to override it with misdirected “help”, you’ll learn the hard way that you should not have tried to interfere with God’s justice. The people you’re trying to help will not be helped in any real way, and you’ll suffer the consequences of going against God. In so doing, you’ll essentially become the “Satan” that Jesus accused Peter of being.
Helping people can be a spiritual minefield. The only way to safely negotiate it is to ask God’s guidance whenever you feel the urge to lend a helping hand. Not everyone is on God’s list to be helped, and not everyone is on God’s list to be helped by you. You can learn this the hard way (not recommended), or you can save yourself the suffering and wait for God’s go-ahead.
In this, as in everything else, be like Jesus, who only ever did what God showed him to do. Many people today are beyond our help and many more are trending that way. We need to respect people’s right to choose evil, if that’s what they want, just as we’re to respect their due rewards for having chosen evil.
You can’t pray away God’s justice. Pray instead for God’s guidance and for God’s will to be done.
ON GIVING CHARITY
Ye said also, Behold, what a weariness is it… and ye brought that which was torn, and the lame, and the sick; thus ye brought an offering: should I accept this of your hand? saith the Lord.
But cursed be the deceiver, which hath in his flock a male, and voweth, and sacrificeth unto the Lord a corrupt thing: for I am a great King, saith the Lord of hosts, and my name is dreadful among the heathen.
Malachi 1:13-14
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, August 22, 2026 – Giving alms or charity is like offering a sacrifice to God. I mention the connection between charity and sacrifice because it’s important for us on a spiritual level to give charity. And because it’s important, we should know how to do it, not so that it makes us feel good about ourselves, but so that it will be received by God as an acceptable and valuable sacrifice in the spiritual realm, which is the only realm that matters.
“Charity” has been mainstreamed in Western society to mean donating money or goods to a cause. In most cases, the funds or items donated do not in any real way affect the finances of the donor. The donation is made from superfluous wealth or what Jesus calls “abundance” (spare change, old clothes, used furniture, low-cost or nearly expired food, etc.) and is often done in exchange for value-in-kind, like a tax receipt. Charity given from abundance and that does not affect the core finances or wealth of the giver is not worth much in God’s eyes. He sees the gesture, but he doesn’t perceive any real value in the item sacrificed. The value of the sacrifice is crucially important to God: For a sacrifice, God demands a healthy male, unspotted and unblemished, not a weak and sickly thing that would not have survived into adulthood.
Considering the above, what kind of charity do you give? Does it affect your core finances or is it taken from your abundance? Do you request a tax receipt, essentially demanding to get back what you put out, or do you (as Jesus advised) give your alms without fanfare and anonymously, expecting nothing in return (not even a “thank you”)? Do you offer the best of what you have at any given moment, or do you merely cast off what you no longer need?
Recall the example of the old widow in the temple who gave everything she had to live on. Even though her ‘everything’ was but a pittance compared to the donations given by the wealthier donors, Jesus said that what the widow gave was in God’s eyes worth more than all the other donations combined. This is because she gave from her core resources while the others gave from their excess.
Please be advised that this is not an exhortation to immediately sell everything you have and give the proceeds to the poor (though God might in fact ask you to do that some day). Giving charity is an essential feature of being bornagain, but like everything else it needs to be guided by God, which means it needs to be done in his time and in his way. The heartstring-tugging ads showcasing starving African children who can be fed for just 10 dollars a day are not meant for us, knowing that nearly 100% of the donated funds are swallowed up in administrative and advertising costs. When God invites us to give charity, it’s both a test of our obedience and an opportunity to bless someone in a targeted and meaningful way. And being a test, God lets us know not only precisely what we should give, but when and how we should give it.
In a church service a few years ago, I witnessed a young usher pocketing money from the collections plate. I knew that he was new to the congregation (and new to the country), and I was surprised that he’d been asked to collect the donations, as that task usually fell to older, trustworthy church members. I glanced up at the pastor sitting at the altar, but he seemed unaware of the theft. Or if he was aware of it, he didn’t show it. I thought to tell him after the service what I’d seen, but God advised me not to. What I’d witnessed was a test both of the usher and of the pastor and so had nothing to do with me. What it did teach me, though, was not to contribute to the collections plate at that or any other church unless God specifically directs me to.
When we give charity in ways that are not directed by God—that is, as a performative gesture or a social obligation, to be seen and approved by others—we essentially give in vain. Our only reward is the pat we give ourselves on our own back. But when we give alms under God’s direction, our charity bears fruit. No-one but God needs to know what we’ve given, since God is the one who evaluates our gift, allocates who should receive it, and blesses us accordingly. The spiritual value of our charitable sacrifice is not the value the world sets on it. In the spiritual realm, the value of our donation is based on our ready willingness to give what God specifically asks of us, and to give it in God’s way.
Pray to God to guide you in giving charity, knowing that if you give it as directed, you’ll be bountifully blessed.
ON NOT READING THE BIBLE
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, August 20, 2026 – I was offered the opportunity a few years back to learn Biblical (ancient) Hebrew so that I could read the Old Testament in the original script. I considered the opportunity, discussed it with God, and then respectfully declined. The same opportunity arose again recently, and again I respectfully declined. I’m not against learning Biblical Hebrew or against reading a text in its original language. Both of those things have their merits. I just don’t need to learn Biblical Hebrew in order to read the Bible. In fact, I don’t need to read the Bible at all, and I’ve learned from God that it’s best not to read it.
Let me explain.
The Bible is not a book in the sense that other books are, well, mere books. Unlike mere books, the Bible is a living instrument that God uses to teach us about himself, his Kingdom, and whatever it is we need to learn at any given moment. You can read the Bible, if you want to, in much the same way as you can read a mere book, but your reward in reading the Bible this way is that you’ll get from it as much as you would a mere book. That is to say, you won’t get nothing out of it, but you also won’t get much.
The Bible isn’t meant to be read by us: It’s meant to be read to us by God through his Holy Spirit. If we try to read the Bible under our own initiative and by our own understanding—if we pore over it like the temple elders pored over their scrolls, searching in vain for evidence that the Messiah should or should not come from Nazareth—we’ll learn about people who lived in different places at times, about what these people did (or didn’t do), and about how they died. In learning these things, we’ll form a rough idea of the characters named throughout the Bible, but that’s about it. In other words, we’ll get from the Bible the same depth of information we’d get from any other book, any other mere book.
But if we let God read the Bible to us through his Holy Spirit (the same Holy Spirit that lives in each one of us), something entirely different happens. We see beyond the words on the page, be they ancient or modern Hebrew, Greek, English, etc. In fact, we don’t even need words when God reads us the Bible. The day I was reborn, God spoke to me not in words but in ideas and images. The same thing happens when God reads us the Bible, which is why the language on the page in front of us doesn’t matter. God will help us understand what we need to understand and to see what we need to see supernaturally. Even the version of the Bible (King James vs English Standard vs New Revised Standard, etc.) is ultimately irrelevant: If changes were made to the original text that God didn’t approve, he’ll skip right over them, and we won’t even know they’re there.
We don’t need to approach the Bible as experts in ancient languages: We just need to ask God to read it to us, and he will. And when we open his book (we still need to open it!) to the chapters and verses he wants us to focus on, he’ll open our understanding in ways that can never happen if we read the Bible on our own. He’ll teach us not through the words on the page but through his Word and by the power of his Holy Spirit.
So don’t bother reading the Bible; let God read it to you.
IS THE BIBLE HOLY?
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, August 17, 2026 – Is the Bible holy? Every Bible cover asserts it. Most Christians unquestioningly agree. But what precisely (if anything) is “holy” about the Bible?
As I’ve mentioned previously in this blog, I came to belief relatively late in life. I wasn’t “raised in the faith”; I was unexpectedly and instantaneously reborn on a lonely stretch of beach in South Australia. During that miraculous process, my belief was delivered to me on a silver platter before I even knew I believed. In other words, I knew what I believed before I knew I believed it. I was taught of God by God. I still am.
Prior to my rebirth, the Bible was one of those things I could not stand being around. I found the Old Testament boring and the New Testament gobbledygook. The New Testament particularly irked me, as the letters of the words all ran together to form a language that was incomprehensible to me. Even if I’d wanted to read the words of Jesus in my unbeliever days, I wouldn’t have been able to. They were like reading a foreign language I had no knowledge of. Still, within an hour of my rebirth, there I was, sitting at my kitchen table reading (devouring!) the New Testament of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. I haven’t stopped reading it since.
Over the years, the Bible has become my constant companion. Or better said, Bibles have become my constant companions. When one wears out—when the cover falls off and/or the pages fall out—I get another one. And because I can’t bring myself to throw out my “used” Bibles, I’m surrounded by Bibles in varying stages of disintegration. I have one on my pillow, one next to my bed, one on my desk, one on my kitchen table, a few on my fireplace mantle, and one in the oversized canvas bag I haul around with me wherever I go. Far from being the symbol of loathing it once was to me, the Bible has become a cornerstone of my life.
But is it holy?
I discussed in an earlier article the essence of holiness and what makes a person holy. Holiness is one of God’s characteristics that God can confer on whoever he wills through his aptly named Holy Spirit. In other words, where the Holy Spirit is, there is holiness; where the Holy Spirit is not, there is no holiness. Holiness is given by God through his Spirit and controlled by God through his Spirit. Therefore, a thing or person in and of themselves cannot be holy without the will of God and the presence of God’s Holy Spirit.
A Bible is a book. I am under no delusion that the Holy Spirit hovers over the well-worn pages of my dog-eared Bibles. However, because a measure of God’s Holy Spirit is within me (which he gave to me at my rebirth), I know with God-inspired certainty that within the Bible’s pages are certain thoughts and words that were inspired by God through his Holy Spirit. Not the entire book—not every word that’s written in it—but certain thoughts and words.
But is that enough to make the Bible itself holy?
From my perspective, the “Holy Bible” emblazoned on the cover of every Bible refers not to the entire book but to those words and thoughts within it that are holy, that come from God. The holy words and thoughts are sandwiched in between words and thoughts that are not necessarily holy (not having been inspired by God) but are still supportive and reflective of the holiness. Think of it like a diamond ring that is not made exclusively of diamonds but still contains diamonds as its central feature, the rest of the ring being made of gold or silver or some other metal that supports and showcases the diamonds and enables the ring to be worn. We don’t call it a “diamond and gold ring” or a “diamond and silver ring”, just simply a diamond ring. In the same way, we don’t call it the “Holy and Holy-adjacent Bible” but simply the Holy Bible, understanding that the holiness is set within and shines among the supportive (though not in themselves holy) words.
So yes, my fellow bornagain believers, the Bible is holy. Not every word in it but enough to justify the exalted title. I do not deify the Bible or worship it as a holy relic to be held aloft and paraded in processions (as some denominations do), but I do love and unquestioningly believe in those parts that come directly from God. When I hug and kiss my poor tattered Bibles, it’s the holiness of God’s thoughts and words that I’m embracing, a holiness that has its source in God and is as close as I’ll get to hugging and kissing God—my Heavenly Father!— until I get Home.
BILL C-9 AND THE WINDING DOWN
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia, July 20, 2026 – Bill C-9 is now law in Canada. If I were to shout from the rooftops certain Bible passages, I’d be arrested, fined, and imprisoned for “hate”. I can still (for the time being, at least) read those passages to myself or whisper them to others in private, but the minute I take my show on the road (or to the rooftops), I could potentially be accused of a hate crime. How did Canada, once a staunch Christian nation, fall so far, so hard, and so fast? By turning away from God. By opening the floodgates to demon-worshipers. By choosing evil rather than good.
A nation is safe from demon-inspired laws like bill C-9 as long as it maintains a certain quota of God-fearing souls. Once that quota has slipped below the threshold (and only God knows that threshold), demons take over. So, you see, it’s not the fault of the politicians (a.k.a. lawmakers) who propose, craft, and pass the laws. It’s easy to blame politicians because their corruption and almost comical levels of incompetence make them easy to blame, but it’s not their fault. All they do is take orders from the demons that rule over them. They earned those demons when they took the oath and sold their souls for their ambitions, but if they hadn’t done that, they wouldn’t “win” elections and be in the position of authority to make laws in the first place. So, no, it’s not the fault of the politicians that we have poisonous laws like bill C-9. It’s the fault of the people they pass the laws for.
Being under the thumb of worldly powers, politicians can only do what Satan permits. Satan himself is under God’s thumb and can only do what God permits. If God, through his perfect justice, permits laws like bill C-9 to exist, then those laws have been earned – not imposed, earned: Spiritually earned. This is a hard truth that even those who call themselves Christians have a difficult time accepting. God has permitted his Word to become illegal in Canada because the demons have won that spiritual turf here fair and square, thanks to the godlessness that now reigns in the souls of most Canadians.
This would never have happened in earlier iterations of this nation. Up to and including the time of my grandparents’ generation, most Canadians were God-fearing and lived their lives accordingly. But one by one, as each God-fearing soul went to his or her reward, Canada began to spiritually slip and slide, slowly at first and then precipitously, until finally landing where it is now with a whump. This ain’t Kansas anymore. This ain’t even (not to my mind) Canada anymore. It’s the devil’s turf, and we’re to play by the devil’s rules or pay the devil’s price.
Knowing this is the devil’s turf doesn’t make me any less a child of God. Living in Canada under laws like bill C-9 doesn’t make me any less a child of God. The whole world (as Jesus told us) is under the authority of Satan, but the Kingdom isn’t. The Kingdom will never be under Satan. I may be in the world physically, but spiritually I’m in the Kingdom. Satan has no hold on me here.
While I am yet in Canada, I will pick and choose my words carefully, taking my cues from God. The early Church also had to pick and choose their words when out in the world. In this, we’ve come not full circle but full spiral, with the peak of the bell curve behind us, not before us. Our numbers are dwindling, not growing. The world grows darker, not brighter. We are the winding down of the Church, not the beginning.
But still we’re here. Jesus promised us he’d be with us until the end of time, and so he is. To the great chagrin of those who hate and vilify God’s Truth, Jesus is still here and his Church is still here. And no matter how much they loathe us—no matter how much our presence torments them—we will remain here to the end.
No law on Earth can change that.
A BORN-AGAIN BELIEVER 