Friday, December 26, 2025

Seven Men Who Rule the World from the Grave Episode 2

The Man Who Tried to Explain Life Without the Creator

When David Breese chose Charles Darwin as one of the seven men who “rule the world from the grave,” he wasn’t attacking science. He was exposing a worldview shift. Darwin’s influence reaches far beyond biology. His ideas reshaped how modern man thinks about origins, meaning, morality, and God Himself.

Darwin didn’t just propose a theory about life — he offered a way to explain life without a Creator.

And that distinction matters.


Who Darwin Was

Charles Darwin was a 19th-century naturalist whose observations during his voyage on the Beagle eventually led him to propose the theory of evolution by natural selection. His work challenged the prevailing belief that life was the result of direct divine creation.

Darwin himself wrestled deeply with the implications of his ideas. Over time, his doubts about God grew, not because of scientific discovery alone, but because the God of Scripture no longer seemed necessary within the system he was building.

That is a critical point.

A Historical Note: Some have cited Darwin as an influence on figures like Hitler, but it’s important to separate observation from application. Darwin was studying natural processes in plants, animals, and people— he was not advocating social or political policies. Later interpreters misused phrases like “survival of the fittest” to justify ideas that Darwin himself never endorsed. This is a clear example of how ideas can be taken far beyond the author’s intent, exactly the kind of pattern David Breese highlighted in his book.


The Central Idea: Naturalism

Darwin’s lasting contribution was not merely evolution — it was naturalism.

Naturalism says:

  • nature explains itself

  • life arose without design

  • purpose is an illusion

  • mind is the product of matter

Once this idea is accepted, God becomes unnecessary — not denied outright at first, but quietly dismissed.

Breese understood this clearly. Darwin didn’t argue against God directly. He simply made Him redundant.


How This Idea Spread

Darwin’s theory moved quickly from science into every corner of culture:

  • Education — origins taught without God

  • Philosophy — man reduced to a biological accident

  • Morality — right and wrong reframed as survival advantage

  • Psychology & sociology — behavior explained without accountability

Once man is no longer created in the image of God, everything downstream changes.

Breese warned that when origins are corrupted, values soon follow.

History has proven him right.

What Scripture Says

The Bible does not argue for God’s existence — it assumes it.

“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.”
(Genesis 1:1)

Creation is not random. It is intentional.

Scripture also warns about the consequences of suppressing this truth:

“Because that which may be known of God is manifest in them; for God hath shewed it unto them.”
(Romans 1:19)

Paul does not describe ignorance — he describes suppression.

Darwinism, when embraced as a worldview, provides a framework for that suppression.


Why This Matters Today

We are living in a world shaped by Darwin’s descendants, not Darwin himself.

When people are told they are accidents:

  • meaning erodes

  • responsibility fades

  • hope diminishes

Breese saw that Darwin’s influence would not stop with science textbooks. It would reshape how man views himself — and therefore how his worldview.

A society that believes it has no Creator will soon behave as though it has no Judge.


A Final Thought

Darwin promised liberation from superstition.
What followed was confusion about purpose.

The Bible, on the other hand, begins with clarity:

  • we were made

  • we were intended

  • we are accountable

That contrast still stands.


Coming Up Next: Episode 3 — Karl Marx

In the next episode, we move from biology to politics — from natural selection to class struggle — and examine how Karl Marx took Darwin’s materialism and applied it to society itself.

Stay with me.

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Thursday, December 25, 2025

John’s Christmas: “To This End Was I Born”

 It is often said that John’s Gospel does not speak of Christmas. By that, people usually mean John does not record angels, shepherds, or a manger in Bethlehem. That observation is true on the surface — but it misses something far more important.

John does speak of Christ’s birth. He simply speaks of it from eternity’s vantage point, not from the stable floor.

When Jesus stands before Pilate and says:

“Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world…”

He affirms something unmistakable: He was born, and His birth had purpose.

This is incarnation language — not poetic, not sentimental, but deliberate and royal.


Birth With Intent, Not Accident

No ordinary man speaks this way. None of us can say we came into the world for a defined mission. We are born into circumstances we do not choose. Jesus speaks differently because He existed before His birth.

John opens his Gospel not in Bethlehem, but “in the beginning.” The Word did not begin at the manger; the manger marks the moment the eternal Word entered time. When Jesus says, “for this cause came I into the world,” He is interpreting His own birth.

Matthew and Luke show us how He was born.
John shows us why.


Kingship Framed by the Incarnation

Notice the context of Jesus’ statement. It comes during a conversation about kingship. Pilate is concerned with power, authority, and political threat. Jesus responds by anchoring His kingship not in conquest, but in incarnation.

“To this end was I born…”

His authority is not seized — it is inherent. His kingdom is not established by force — it is revealed by truth. His birth is not incidental to His mission; it is the means by which that mission begins.

John’s Gospel makes clear that Christmas is not about vulnerability alone. It is about voluntary humility.


“Came Into the World”

That phrase appears repeatedly in John, and it always carries weight. It assumes:

  • pre-existence

  • intentional descent

  • divine purpose

The Word became flesh. Light entered darkness. Truth stepped into a hostile world. John is not ignoring the birth of Christ — he is explaining it.

Christmas, in John’s Gospel, is not about the silence of a holy night. It is about truth confronting the world.


Why This Matters

When people say John does not speak of Christmas, what they often mean is that John does not decorate it. But Scripture does not exist to decorate truth — it exists to reveal it.

John strips away nostalgia and presents the incarnation as:

  • necessary

  • purposeful

  • confrontational

  • redemptive

The birth of Christ is not merely something that happened. It is something that was chosen.


A Closing Thought

John’s Gospel does not begin at the manger because John wants us to understand that Bethlehem was not the beginning — it was the arrival. When Jesus says, “To this end was I born,” He affirms that His birth was the doorway through which eternal truth entered a fallen world.

That is Christmas — not denied, but defined.

Wednesday, December 24, 2025

When the Silent Spoke

 

The Overlooked Witnesses of Christ’s Birth

Christmas is often told as a gentle story—soft light, quiet animals, and familiar words repeated until they lose their weight. But the first witnesses of Christ’s coming did not speak softly, and their words were not decorative. They were prophetic, covenantal, and final.

Before shepherds ran through the night and before wise men followed a star, God gathered His witnesses—aged saints whose lives had been shaped by waiting. Their voices were not background noise. They were the closing testimony of an era and the opening declaration of another.

It began with silence.

Zechariah was a priest, faithful in duty and advanced in years. When he entered the temple to burn incense, he carried the weight of centuries of ritual with him. Israel had learned to live with silence from heaven, and Zechariah did not expect that day to be different. Yet when the angel spoke and Zechariah hesitated in belief, his voice was taken from him.

For nine months, the priest could not speak.

This was not merely a personal discipline—it was symbolic. The temple still stood. The sacrifices continued. The priesthood functioned. Yet the voice of God had been absent for generations. Zechariah’s silence mirrored Israel’s condition: religious activity without prophetic speech.

When his son was born and named, the silence broke. And when Zechariah finally spoke, he did not begin with explanations or apologies. He prophesied.

His proclamation did not center on the child in his arms, but on the God who keeps covenant. He spoke of redemption, of a horn of salvation raised up, of mercy remembered. The language was ancient, drawn from promises made to Abraham and David. Yet his words looked forward. The salvation coming would not arrive through political revolt or military strength, but through forgiveness of sins and light shining on those who sat in darkness.

Zechariah’s song was not a lullaby. It was a declaration that God had visited His people again.

Not long after, another aged witness waited in Jerusalem.

Simeon was not a priest, nor is he recorded as holding office. He is described simply as righteous, devout, and waiting for the consolation of Israel. The Spirit had made him a promise—that he would not see death before seeing the Lord’s Christ.

When Mary and Joseph carried the infant Jesus into the temple, nothing outward distinguished this child from any other. There were no signs, no announcements, no visible glory. Yet Simeon recognized what others missed. He took the child into his arms and declared that salvation had arrived.

His words reached beyond Israel. This child would be a light to the Gentiles and the glory of God’s people. Yet Simeon’s prophecy was not softened for celebration. He warned that this child would be opposed, that He would cause the rise and fall of many, and that hearts would be exposed. He even spoke of sorrow that would pierce the mother herself.

Simeon’s testimony reminds us that Christmas already carried the shadow of the cross. From the very beginning, Christ was presented not only as Savior, but as a dividing line.

Nearby stood another witness—quiet, persistent, and often forgotten.

Anna had lived long enough to be easily overlooked. A widow for decades, she spent her days in the temple, worshiping with fasting and prayer. Her life had not been marked by public significance, but by faithfulness in waiting.

When she saw the child, she recognized Him immediately. She gave thanks to God and spoke to all who were looking for redemption in Jerusalem. Luke records no extended prophecy from her, no poetic song. But her witness mattered. She spoke to those whose hearts were already tuned to hope, confirming that the redemption they longed for had arrived.

Anna stands as a testimony that waiting is not wasted. God does not measure significance by visibility. Her long years of obscurity became the ground from which her witness sprang.

These four voices—Zechariah, Elizabeth, Simeon, and Anna—stand at the threshold between covenants. They are elderly because an age is ending. They are prophetic because God is speaking again. They do not build movements or gather followers. They bear witness and step aside.

This is the forgotten shape of Christmas.

Before the gospel moved outward in power, it was confirmed inwardly by those steeped in Scripture. Before the message reached the nations, it was anchored in promises made long before. God did not bypass Israel’s story; He completed it.

The child at the center of their testimony did not speak a word. Others spoke for Him. And when they had spoken, heaven fell quiet again—until the time came for the Son Himself to speak.

Christmas is not merely the story of a birth. It is the moment when silence gave way to testimony, when waiting gave way to fulfillment, and when the old covenant bore its final, faithful witness.

When the silent spoke, they pointed to Him.

Sunday, December 21, 2025

Seven Men Who Rule the World from the Grave Episode 1

 

Episode 1 — Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel: The Engine That Never Stops

"Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ." — Colossians 2:8


Introduction: Why Begin with Hegel?

This series follows the framework laid out by David W. Breese in his book Seven Men Who Rule the World from the Grave. Breese’s central insight is simple yet sobering: men die, but ideas do not. Some ideas become so embedded in culture that they continue to govern nations, institutions, and even churches long after their originators are buried.

We begin not with the most famous or the most quoted, but with the most foundational. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel is not the loudest voice among the seven—but he is the engine. His ideas power the systems that follow. If you understand Hegel, you will recognize his fingerprints everywhere.


Hegel in Plain Terms

Hegel taught that truth is not fixed, but develops through conflict. Reality, according to him, advances by a process often summarized as:

  • Thesis

  • Antithesis

  • Synthesis

In this system, contradiction is not a problem to be resolved—it is a necessary tool. Truth is not discovered; it is produced. Stability is not a virtue; it is an obstacle.

This is a complete reversal of the biblical worldview.


The Biblical Collision

Scripture does not present truth as fluid or negotiable.

"Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth." — John 17:17
"Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and today, and forever." — Hebrews 13:8

Biblical truth is revealed, not manufactured. It does not evolve. It does not improve through contradiction. It stands, whether men agree with it or not.

Hegel’s system, by contrast, trains the mind to accept change as progress and conflict as virtue. Once this principle is accepted, authority quietly shifts—from God’s Word to whoever controls the process.


Hegelian Drift

This is where the danger becomes practical.

Hegelian drift occurs when:

  • Absolute truth is replaced with ongoing dialogue

  • Moral clarity is dismissed as rigidity

  • Contradictions are praised as balance

  • Conclusions are always provisional

Once truth becomes a process, the process becomes god.

"Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth." — 2 Timothy 3:7


How Hegel Rules from the Grave Today

Hegel’s ideas did not stay in philosophy classrooms. They migrated.

Government

  • Crisis → reaction → solution

  • Conflict managed rather than resolved

  • Policy justified as historical necessity

Culture

  • Words redefined mid-argument

  • Moral reversals framed as enlightenment

  • Opposition portrayed as outdated

The Church

  • Doctrine softened into discussion

  • Clear biblical lines labeled divisive

  • Faith reduced to personal interpretation

Hegel does not need to be named. His method operates quietly, shaping how people expect truth to behave.


David Breese’s Warning

Breese did not argue that Hegel was uniquely evil. His concern was more subtle—and more serious. Hegel’s system works with or without God. It teaches people to accept contradiction as wisdom and change as authority.

When this mindset takes hold, discernment erodes.

"Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God." — 2 Corinthians 10:5

That verse is not abstract. It is a command for intellectual vigilance.


A Simple Discernment Test

When you hear an argument, ask:

Is truth being revealed—or negotiated?

If it is being negotiated, you are watching Hegelian drift at work.


Conclusion

Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel has been dead for nearly two centuries, yet his ideas continue to govern how the modern world thinks about truth, progress, and authority. He rules not by decree, but by method.

This is why we begin here.


Coming Next

If Hegel built the engine, Karl Marx put it to work.

In the next post, we will examine how dialectical philosophy became economic ideology—and why Scripture anticipated both.

"Prove all things; hold fast that which is good." — 1 Thessalonians 5:21

 Be watchful, and strengthen the things which remain... - Revelation 3:2 

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The Son Who Ignored the Book Written for Him

The Son Who Ignored the Book Written for Him

“My son, hear the instruction of thy father…”
Proverbs 1:8

The opening chapters of Proverbs are not random sayings. Proverbs 1–9 read as deliberate, sustained instruction from a father to a son. They warn against pride, rash speech, rejection of counsel, immoral alliances, and the folly of despising wisdom. The voice is personal, urgent, and parental.

The author is named plainly:

“The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, king of Israel” (Proverbs 1:1)

While Scripture does not explicitly state that these chapters were written to Rehoboam, the context makes one thing clear: Solomon is instructing a royal son, an heir who will one day rule.

Rehoboam was that son.


Wisdom Given — Wisdom Ignored

When Rehoboam ascends the throne in 1 Kings 12, he is immediately tested. The people ask for relief from Solomon’s heavy policies. Rehoboam consults two groups:

  1. The elders, who advise restraint and kindness

  2. The young men, who advise pride, force, and intimidation

Rehoboam chooses the latter.

In doing so, he violates Proverbs repeatedly:

  • “Hear counsel, and receive instruction” — ignored

  • “Pride goeth before destruction” — embraced

  • “A soft answer turneth away wrath” — rejected

  • “Wisdom preserveth the king” — despised

The result is not merely a bad decision — it is a fractured kingdom.


The Warning Already Written

Proverbs 1 contains one of the most sobering passages in all of wisdom literature:

“Because I have called, and ye refused…
I also will laugh at your calamity” (Proverbs 1:24–26)

This is not cruelty. It is consequence.

Rehoboam’s failure was not lack of knowledge.
It was presumption — knowing better and choosing otherwise.

That places him in the same moral category Scripture repeatedly condemns:

  • Saul sparing what God rejected

  • Israel refusing the prophets

  • Those who inherit truth but do not submit to it


A Living Parable

Rehoboam becomes a living contradiction of Proverbs.

The book meant to shape a king instead judges him by contrast. Wisdom was present in his house, on his shelves, and likely in his ears — but never in his heart.

This exposes a sobering truth for every generation:

Truth possessed is not the same as truth obeyed.

Inheritance does not equal faithfulness.
Knowledge does not equal wisdom.
Instruction rejected becomes testimony against us.


Conclusion

Proverbs is not abstract philosophy.
It is historical, relational, and accountable.

In Rehoboam, we see what happens when a man ignores the very wisdom designed to preserve him. The book stands. The kingdom falls.

And Scripture quietly asks the reader:

Will you be a hearer — or a son who refuses?

Friday, December 12, 2025

Hegelian Drift In The Church — Episode 4

 

“How Subtle Shifts in Doctrine Reshape the Church”

The devil the devil made it happen? As a person of man kind I'm thinking we don't need much help from the devil. We are very capable of destroying things ourselves.  Rarely is the hammer used in the attempt to destroy truth.
We usually erode it unnoticed one drip at a time until it comes in like a flood.

That’s the essence of the Hegelian Drift:
take a biblical truth (thesis), introduce a pressure or alternative (antithesis), and eventually settle on a watered-down compromise (synthesis).

Not overnight.
Not all at once.
But slowly… subtly… almost imperceptibly.

In this part of the series, we look at how this drift quietly reshapes doctrine inside the church, often without believers ever realizing it.


1. The Drift from Revelation to Relevance

Thesis: The Word of God is final authority.
Antithesis: “Culture has changed; the Bible must be reinterpreted.”
Synthesis: The church begins adjusting Scripture to culture instead of calling the culture to repentance.

Once the Bible becomes “fluid,” anything can be justified.


2. The Drift from Holiness to Acceptance

Thesis:

That he might present it to himself a glorious church not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish” (Ephesians 5:27)

Antithesis: “We shouldn’t offend anyone. That’s unloving.”
Synthesis: A Christianity that welcomes everyone but challenges no one.

Holiness becomes optional. Sin becomes a “struggle.” Repentance becomes “self-discovery.”


3. The Drift from Doctrine to Emotion

Thesis: Faith comes by hearing the Word (Rom. 10:17).
Antithesis: “I just want a church that feels alive.”
Synthesis: Entertainment replaces discipleship.

People begin to measure spiritual truth by how it makes them feel, instead of what God actually said.


4. The Drift from Christ-Centered Teaching to Self-Centered Teaching

Thesis: “That in all things He might have the preeminence.” (Col. 1:18)
Antithesis: “People need practical sermons that help them live better lives.”
Synthesis: Christ becomes a supporting character in sermons about us.

The gospel becomes “Jesus improves your life,” not “Jesus saves you from sin.”


5. The Drift from Separating Truth and Error to Blending Them

Thesis: “Mark them which cause divisions… contrary to the doctrine.” (Rom. 16:17)
Antithesis: “We shouldn’t divide over doctrine. Unity is more important.”
Synthesis: Truth and error sit side by side.

The church becomes a mixture — not because false teachers invaded,
but because the guards fell asleep.


6. The Drift from Biblical Identity to Cultural Identity

Thesis: Believers are defined by Christ.
Antithesis: “People need to express their authentic selves.”
Synthesis: Christianity adapts personal identity instead of transforming it.

People begin to wear Christ like an accessory instead of taking up their cross.


7. The Drift Becomes the New Normal

Here’s the danger:

Once a compromise becomes normal, the next compromise becomes easier.

And the next.

And the next.

Just like Israel in the Old Testament, the church drifts one generation at a time:

  • One stops teaching the whole truth.

  • The next stops believing it.

  • The third does not even remember it exists.

That’s the Hegelian Drift in its most devastating form.


Conclusion: The Only Cure Is Returning to the Source

There is only one anchor strong enough to stop the drift:

“Hold fast the form of sound words…”
— 2 Timothy 1:13

You don’t fight drift with opinion, tradition, or enthusiasm.

You fight it with Scripture.
You fight it with doctrine.
You fight it with a church that refuses to move when the world pushes.

The enemy uses drift to reshape the church from the inside out.
God calls us to stand, not shift.


Thursday, December 11, 2025

When Hollywood Rode Into the Book of Judges: How Westerns Mirror Biblical Stories

 

Most people don’t think of the Old Testament when they sit down to watch a classic Western. Yet some of the most beloved films—Shane, The Outlaw Josey Wales, The Magnificent Seven, High Noon—carry storytelling DNA straight out of the Bible.
And nowhere is this more striking than in the book of Judges, a book filled with rugged heroes, lawless frontiers, unlikely deliverers, and hard-earned victories.

Many Western plots look like they were written in Judges long before Hollywood ever existed.


Jephthah: The Bible’s First Western Hero

In Judges 11 we meet Jephthah, a man whose life mirrors the archetypal Western gunslinger.

1. The Rejected Outcast

Jephthah is cast out of his father’s house because of his mother’s reputation.
He grows up unwanted, pushed away by the “respectable” people of his hometown.

This is the same setup found in:

  • Shane

  • Josey Wales

  • The Searchers

  • Unforgiven

The lone man with a painful past — living outside society but shaped by hardship.

2. Builds a Life on the Frontier

Jephthah settles in the land of Tob and becomes the leader of a band of rough men.
He doesn’t ask for trouble, but he’s prepared for it.

That sounds a lot like Josey Wales forming a band of outcasts on the run.

3. The Town That Rejected Him Comes Asking for Help

When the Ammonites attack, the elders beg Jephthah to return and lead the army.

This is Western storytelling 101:

  • The danger grows

  • Law-abiding folks don’t know how to handle it

  • And the only man who can save them is the one they once despised

It’s High Noon and Shane wrapped into one.

4. Reluctant, Wise, and Capable

Jephthah negotiates, reasons from history, and only fights when necessary.
He is not a brute — he is a leader.

Like Josey Wales, he carries both strength and sorrow.

5. Victory at a Cost

Jephthah wins the battle, but his vow brings deep personal grief.
His story ends with triumph mixed with tragedy.

Many Westerns end the same way:
the town is saved, but the hero walks away with scars that will never fully heal.


Judges Reads Like a Western Script

Other stories in Judges carry Western themes too:

Gideon → The Magnificent Seven

A tiny force
Facing impossible odds
Using strategy, surprise, and nighttime tactics
to defeat a much larger enemy.

Samson → The Tragic Gunfighter

A gifted but flawed man
caught between strength and self-destruction.
Think Unforgiven or The Searchers.

Deborah → True Grit

A woman stepping into leadership when no one else will,
showing courage and clarity in a chaotic time.

The book of Judges is filled with:

  • rugged geography

  • political vacuum

  • vigilante justice

  • moral ambiguity

  • unlikely deliverers

  • God working through ordinary, flawed people

Hollywood couldn’t have written a better backdrop.


Why So Many Stories Echo Scripture

It’s not accidental.
The Bible formed Western civilization’s story instincts.
Themes like:

  • exile

  • redemption

  • sacrifice

  • justice

  • personal calling

  • standing alone when others bow

  • saving those who once rejected you

These resonate with people because they describe real humanity.
Writers and filmmakers borrow these patterns consciously or unconsciously.

You might say the book of Judges is one of the earliest “Westerns” ever recorded.


The Outlaw Josey Wales and Jephthah: A Striking Parallel

If any film mirrors Jephthah most closely, it’s The Outlaw Josey Wales:

  • a man wronged

  • an outcast turned reluctant leader

  • gathering misfits into a family

  • showing mercy, justice, and grit

  • delivering others while still carrying his own sorrow

It’s almost a modern retelling of Judges 11 in buckskins and spurs.


Conclusion: Hollywood Rides on Biblical Trails

The next time you watch a classic Western, you may see the shadows of Scripture all over the plot.
Jephthah’s story reminds us that God often uses unexpected people —
outsiders, overlooked men and women —
to bring deliverance in turbulent times.

And maybe that’s why Westerns speak so deeply to us:
they tell the kind of story the Bible has been telling for thousands of years.

Wednesday, December 10, 2025

When Jesus Turned Water Into Wine… and Mom Pushed Him Into It

 John 2:1–11

There are moments in Scripture that feel wonderfully human, and the wedding at Cana is one of them. It’s the first miracle Jesus performs—but the way it happens carries warmth, family dynamics, and even a touch of humor.

“They have no wine.” — A Mother’s Hint

Mary doesn’t ask for a miracle directly.
She simply states a problem:

“They have no wine.”

Every son knows that tone.
It’s the “I’m not asking, but you know what I mean” kind of statement.
Mary isn’t manipulating—she’s caring. A wedding feast in their culture was a week-long celebration, and running out of wine would disgrace the young bridegroom.

Mary sees a need… and she knows exactly Who can meet it.

Jesus’ Response: Gentle, Not Harsh

Jesus answers in a phrase that puzzles many readers:

“Woman, what have I to do with thee? Mine hour is not yet come.”

This isn’t disrespect.
In Greek and Hebrew idiom, it means:

  • “Are you sure this is the moment?”

  • “Is this something you want, or something the Father wants?”

  • “The timing isn’t quite here yet.”

It’s a thoughtful hesitation—not a rebuke.

And it carries that subtle tone every adult child recognizes:

“Mom… is this really necessary?”

Mary, Undeterred

This is where the scene becomes warm and almost humorous.

Mary doesn’t argue.
She doesn’t explain.
She doesn’t say another word to Jesus.

She simply turns to the servants and says:

“Whatever He tells you to do, do it.”

In other words:

“Yes, He’s doing it.”

It’s such a motherly moment.
Jesus raises a concern; Mary walks right past it.

Jesus Honors His Mother

Though His public ministry timetable belongs to the Father, Jesus still chooses to honor His earthly mother. Without fanfare, He instructs the servants to fill the jars. What follows is not just wine—it’s the best wine the steward had ever tasted.

That first miracle came not from a grand stage, but from a simple act of family obedience.

It reveals something beautiful:

  • Jesus is Lord.

  • Jesus is obedient to His Father.

  • But Jesus also honors His mother, even in His divinity.

The Son of God keeps the fifth commandment.

The Miracle Behind the Miracle

Yes, Jesus changed water into wine.
But there is another quiet miracle in the story:

Jesus sanctified the ordinary.

A family.
A wedding.
An embarrassment avoided.
A mother’s concern.
A Son’s love.
Servants obeying.
Joy restored.

He turned a moment of lack into a moment of abundance.

A Word for Us Today

Sometimes God works through:

  • a nudge from a family member

  • a need we didn’t expect

  • a moment we think is “not our hour”

  • a task that seems small

But when Christ places His hands on the ordinary, it becomes miraculous.

And like Mary, the best thing we can ever say is:

“Whatever He says to you—do it.”

Monday, December 8, 2025

Part 3 — The Hegelian Drift Effect

 (How Slow Shifts in Thinking Pull Families Away From Truth)

Most parents today feel the ground moving beneath their feet. What used to be common sense now feels controversial. What was once unquestioned biblical truth has become “just your opinion.” This didn’t happen overnight. It happened through what many call the Hegelian Drift — a slow, generational shift created when culture endlessly pushes “new ideas,” and God’s people slowly adjust to them without noticing.

1. What Is the Hegelian Drift?

Philosopher Georg Hegel taught that society changes through a cycle:

  • Thesis – the original belief

  • Antithesis – a challenge to that belief

  • Synthesis – a “compromise” between the two

The problem? That new synthesis becomes the next thesis, which means the cycle repeats again and again — each time pulling people further from their starting point.
This is the drift.
It’s not a violent overthrow; it’s a slow erosion of truth.

2. How the Drift Shows Up in Scripture

Israel experienced this cycle over and over:

  • Judges 2:10 – a new generation “knew not the LORD”

  • 1 Samuel 8 – people demanded a king “like the nations”

  • Jeremiah 6:16 – God had to call them back to “the old paths”

Even David’s world in Psalm 6 fits this pattern. David’s tears were not only about enemies but about a generation drifting, a son (Absalom) who embraced an antithesis to everything he taught.

A father standing for truth while his own child embraces rebellion — that is the pain of drift.

3. The Drift Today: How It Affects Parents and Children

Today the drift shows up like this:

  • Parents still believe Scripture.

  • Culture pushes a new moral “antithesis.”

  • Children feel pressure to “synthesize” a new view so they aren’t seen as old-fashioned or intolerant.

Before long, the home is divided:

  • politically

  • morally

  • spiritually

Not because someone rejected the Bible in one day, but because tiny shifts, over years, created a new “normal.”

David understood this. Psalm 6 shows a man weeping not only from fear but from watching what rebellion does to a home.

4. How to Resist the Drift

Parents don’t need to out-argue society; they need to anchor their home.

Here’s how:

(1) Return to the old paths — Jeremiah 6:16

Don’t apologize for believing the Bible.
Don’t soften it.
Don’t water it down to match the age.

(2) Speak truth early and often — Deut. 6:6–7

The world disciples our children constantly.
We must speak truth intentionally.

(3) Teach your children how culture changes

Kids can spot manipulation if you show them the pattern:

  • Step 1: Question truth

  • Step 2: Shame disagreement

  • Step 3: Redefine the new belief as “love”

When they understand the drift, they’re less likely to be caught in it.

(4) Stay tender, not terrified — Psalm 6:8–9

David cried, but he didn’t crumble.
God heard him.
Parents today can take the same comfort.

5. Why This Matters Psalm 6.

Psalm 6 is not just a song of sorrow.
It is a warning and a comfort:

  • A warning: rebellion in a generation brings heartbreak.

  • A comfort: God hears the cry of parents standing for truth.

Today’s “Hegelian drift” is simply a modern version of the old biblical battle:
Truth vs. the slow creep of error.

And just like David, parents can cling to the promise:

“The LORD hath heard the voice of my weeping.” (Psalm 6:8)

Saturday, December 6, 2025

When Your Own Children Rebel: Lessons from Psalm 6

 Seeing your children reject the values, beliefs, or faith you’ve tried to nurture is one of life’s hardest experiences. Modern parents may feel the heartbreak and fear that David faced when his son Absalom rebelled. Psalm 6, written in the midst of David’s terror and grief, speaks powerfully to parents today navigating political, religious, or moral rebellion in their children.


It’s Okay to Feel Grief

“O LORD, rebuke me not in your anger… Have mercy upon me, O LORD; for I am weak.” (Psalm 6:1–2)

David’s words remind parents that it’s normal to feel fear, sorrow, and helplessness. Watching children take paths we cannot control can feel like losing a part of ourselves.

“All night I make my bed swim; I drench my couch with my tears.” (Psalm 6:6)

Grief is natural. Lamenting honestly—bringing our pain to God—is not only acceptable but necessary.


Turn to God Amid the Storm

“Return, O LORD, deliver my soul… save me for thy mercies’ sake.” (Psalm 6:4)

When we cannot change our children, we can entrust them and ourselves to God. Prayer provides strength, wisdom, and peace in situations beyond our control.


Hold Onto Hope

“The LORD hath heard my supplication… let all mine enemies be ashamed and sore vexed.” (Psalm 6:9–10)

Even amid rebellion, hope remains. Children’s choices may hurt, but God’s guidance and justice are perfect. Parents can trust Him to work over time, even when influence seems limited.


Practical Takeaways for Parents Today

  1. Validate your emotions – grief, fear, and disappointment are natural.

  2. Pray honestly – bring your heartache and worries to God.

  3. Release control – children’s choices are theirs to make.

  4. Cling to hope – God’s faithfulness never fails; change can happen over time.

  5. Continue to love – maintain relationship and presence, even when trust is tested.


Closing Thought:
Psalm 6 shows that even in the most personal and painful betrayals, hope is possible. Today’s rebellion may look different—political, religious, or lifestyle choices—but the emotional arc is the same: grief, prayer, and trust in God. Parents can find comfort knowing that God hears their cries and sustains them through heartbreak.

Friday, December 5, 2025

The Hegelian Drift Effect Part 2: Education

 Part 2 of the Series: How Dialectical Drift Shapes the Classroom

Most parents think education is simply reading, writing, math, and a few electives. But beneath the surface lies a quiet current that shapes how students learn to think — a current with deep roots in Hegelian philosophy.

Hegel taught that truth evolves through a cycle:
thesis → antithesis → synthesis.
Instead of holding firm to a standard, the “synthesis” becomes a new, blended truth — and the process repeats.

The classroom has become one of the easiest places for that pattern to take hold.


1. Teaching Students to Blend, Not Believe

Older generations were taught that some things were just true, period.
Modern education leans heavily toward:

This is the Hegelian dialectic in action.
Students learn that truth is negotiated, not discovered — and that the goal is a comfortable blend, not a firm conviction.

The result is a generation skilled at compromise, but often uncomfortable with certainty.


2. The Curriculum as a Slow Drift

Textbooks and lesson plans now often present conflicting views as equally valid, then reward students for creating a middle position — a synthesis.

Example patterns:

This trains young minds to see truth as fluid, changing, and flexible — exactly what Hegel proposed.


3. Human Nature Makes It Easy

Human nature loves the path of least resistance.
In education, that means:

  • avoiding conflict

  • choosing the “safe” middle

  • pleasing the teacher with agreeable answers

So when the system teaches compromise as the method, human nature quickly adopts it as the default.

Students become comfortable with the idea that disagreements must always be resolved by blending viewpoints — even when doing so dilutes truth.


4. Decades of Drift Shape a Generation

When this style of thinking dominates education for decades, it produces a cultural outcome:

  • strong convictions weaken

  • traditional anchors feel outdated

  • clarity is replaced with complexity

  • students become confident debaters but uncertain believers

It’s not that education teaches rebellion.
It simply teaches flexibility without foundation — a subtle but powerful shift.

Hegel would have been proud.
But the result is a generation standing on sand, not rock.


Next in the Series: The Hegelian Effect in Politics

This is where things get even clearer.
Politics uses the dialectic openly — through conflict, crisis, and compromise.

In Hegelian/Marxist politics, that strategy isn’t an accident — it’s the playbook.

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Thursday, December 4, 2025

Hegelian Drift in Modern Culture

 Part 1 in the Series: How Hegelian Thinking Shapes Our World

Many have never heard of Hegel, but almost everyone feels the effects of his ideas. One of the most influential is his view that truth evolves through conflict and compromise. Instead of holding firm to a standard, Hegel’s system assumes:

  • Every conviction (a “thesis”)

  • Will be challenged by its opposite (“antithesis”)

  • And the two will merge into a new, blended idea (“synthesis”)

Then that new synthesis becomes the starting point for yet another compromise cycle.

The result?
A culture that no longer believes truth is fixed — only “evolving.”


1. Culture has shifted from conviction to negotiation

In previous generations, culture still had anchored moral assumptions — family structure, personal responsibility, male and female distinctions, objective right and wrong.

Today we see something different:

  • “Live your truth.”

  • “My truth and your truth can both be valid.”

  • “Morality is a conversation, not a command.”

  • "Do your own thing!"

That is Hegelian to the core:
Truth is not something you hold; it’s something you shape through compromise.


2. Cultural values now change by manufactured tension

Much of modern entertainment, news, and social media functions on this pattern:

  1. Create conflict

  2. Highlight opposing views

  3. Wear people down until they accept a blended middle

  4. Call the blend progress

  5. Repeat

People grow exhausted by constant cultural battles.
When tired enough, they accept the “synthesis” simply for peace.

But each synthesis is usually one step away from historic standards and one step toward a redefined norm.


3. The drip effect: slow, steady downward drift

Our nature tends toward the path of least resistance.
That’s why Hegelian drift slants downward, not upward.

Given enough cycles:

  • entertainment normalizes what used to shock

  • language morphs to erase distinctions

  • humor desensitizes

  • social pressure rewards compliance

  • disagreement becomes “hate”

Not because society “studied and improved,” but because it compromised itself into comfort.

Hegel’s system gives a philosophical excuse for moral erosion.


4. A culture trained not to resist

A Hegel-shaped society becomes:

  • less anchored

  • less convicted

  • less courageous

  • less certain of anything

  • and less capable of saying “No, that’s wrong.”

Truth becomes flexible clay.

Convictions become optional.

People become “tolerant” in the sense that they have nothing solid left to stand on.

That’s the end product of Hegel’s cultural influence:
A society so committed to blending opposites that it forgets there ever was a right and a wrong.

By the way I'm in this boat  with you and we're bailing as fast as we can.


Coming Next (Part 2): Hegelian Thought in Education

We’ll look at how classrooms, curriculum, and even teaching philosophy have adopted Hegelian patterns — sometimes openly, sometimes unknowingly.

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