Be Reconciled to God: Paul’s Anguished Warning and the Path to Mature Sonship

The church in Corinth was the most spiritually gifted congregation in the New Testament. Paul reminds them:

“You have been enriched in every way—in all your speaking and in all your knowledge… you do not lack any spiritual gift” (1 Corinthians 1:5–7).

Tongues, prophecy, miracles, bold preaching, deep insight—they had it all. If any church looked alive, thriving, and Spirit-blessed, it was Corinth.

Yet the same apostle who planted this church looked at it with tears in his eyes and terror in his heart. He feared that many of them—perhaps most—were on a fast track to hell.

He begged them as an ambassador of Christ: “Be reconciled to God” (2 Corinthians 5:20).

He commanded them:

“Examine yourselves to see whether you are in the faith; test yourselves… unless, of course, you fail the test” (2 Corinthians 13:5).

Reprobates. Counterfeits. Disqualified.

Paul was staring at a church overflowing with spiritual experiences and saying, in effect: “Some of you may not belong to Jesus at all.”

The Great Exchange—and the Great Danger

Everything hinges on the glorious truth of 2 Corinthians 5:21:

“God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

Christ took our sin. We receive His righteousness—the greatest exchange in history.

But notice the little word “might.” That purpose was still hanging in the balance for many Corinthians because their lives were riddled with blatant sexual immorality, factions, pride, drunkenness at the Lord’s Table, and tolerance of false teaching. Gifts abounded. Grace? Paul wasn’t sure.

A Father in Travail

Paul writes as a spiritual father in agony:

“I am jealous for you with a godly jealousy… I am afraid that your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ” (2 Corinthians 11:2–3).

“My dear children, for whom I am again in the pains of childbirth until Christ is formed in you” (Galatians 4:19).

He knew that spiritual gifts, powerful experiences, and even miraculous signs are no proof of salvation. Judas worked miracles. Saul prophesied.

Love, repentance, humility, holiness—these are the evidences that Christ is truly in you.

The Ongoing Call: Restricted Affections

Most often, “Be reconciled to God” is heard as a call to the lost. But Paul is addressing believers—those who have already received salvation. He is pleading with them to live fully in the reconciliation already won, not merely to possess it in theory.

Immediately after this plea, he diagnoses the problem: “You are not restricted by us, but you are restricted in your own affections… Widen your hearts also” (2 Corinthians 6:12–13).

The tragedy is not lack of teaching or gifting—it is narrowed hearts, misplaced desires, and divided loyalty. Believers can be anointed and orthodox yet closed to the full virtues of God because of unequal yoking with darkness, worldly alliances, and tolerated idols of the heart (2 Corinthians 6:14–16).

Justification is the doorway into new life, not the full inheritance. Reconciliation is believers continually aligning their hearts and affections with God. Without this ongoing participation, even the justified remain stagnant—spiritual babes rather than mature sons.

From Entry to Sonship: Milk to Meat

Like an heir who is still a child and differs nothing from a servant (Galatians 4:1), many Spirit-filled believers remain carnal and divisive (1 Corinthians 3:1–3). Sin’s legal power is broken, but voluntary submission to unrighteousness keeps them servants in practice.

Hebrews 5:12–14 warns that those who partake only of milk are unskilled in the word of righteousness and lack discernment. Solid food belongs to the mature, who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil.

True sonship requires:

– Yielding bodily members to righteousness

– Submitting to Spirit-led holiness

– Partaking in the divine nature

– Walking as children of light (Ephesians 5:8)

– Giving no place to the devil

This is not sinless perfection—it is Spirit-empowered transformation into mature sons who carry authority and experience the fullness of their inheritance.

Paul uses history as a sobering warning: Israel was redeemed, baptized in the sea, fed with manna—yet most fell in the wilderness (1 Corinthians 10:1–12). “These things happened as warnings for us… So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!”

The Narrow Path and the Faithful Remnant

Yet amidst widespread compromise, Scripture always highlights a faithful remnant—grieved within, aware of their weakness apart from Christ, trusting the Spirit rather than the flesh. These hidden ones watch, pray, and persevere, living close to Jesus even when the broader church is distracted or lukewarm.

They embody the narrow path—unseen, patient, and prepared.

Jesus’ question still pierces: “When the Son of Man returns, will He find faith on the earth?” (Luke 18:8).

A Trumpet Blast and Merciful Summons Today

We live in a church age intoxicated with gifts, experiences, and success—conferences overflow, worship is electric, testimonies dramatic. Yet many remain gifted but stagnant, forgiven yet indulgent, Spirit-filled yet lukewarm.

Paul’s question echoes across the centuries: “Do you not know that Jesus Christ is in you—unless indeed you are reprobates?”

Rich in gifts, poor in grace—this was Corinth’s peril. It may be ours.

But the Spirit’s grief is matched by mercy:

“Now is the acceptable time; now is the day of salvation” (2 Corinthians 6:2).

The Lord is longsuffering, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9).

The summons to reconciliation is still active, still urgent, still merciful. Examination, repentance, widened hearts, and renewed obedience are invitations to restoration and maturity—not condemnation.

Hear the apostle’s heart-wrenching cry.

Examine yourself.

Be reconciled to God.

Widen your heart.

Grow into mature sonship.

Cling to Christ with everything you have.

Because love warns—and mercy calls.

Now is the acceptable time.

Now is the day of salvation.

 

 

I Wish I Had Served My Lord From My Youth

The Last Words That Broke Chuck Missler — and Should Break You

You were bought with a price; do not become slaves of men.
— 1 Corinthians 7:23

Most Christians read that verse, nod piously, and then spend the next forty-five years climbing corporate ladders, padding 401(k)s, and building personal kingdoms that belong to shareholders and CEOs.

We call it “providing for our family.”
The New Testament calls it slavery.

Chuck Missler knew both kinds of slavery.

For three decades he wore the golden handcuffs: U.S. Naval Academy, Branch Chief of Guided Missiles for the Department of Defense, CEO of multiple Fortune 500 tech companies, board member, private jets, seven-figure net worth. He was the dream the world sells young men.

Then one Soviet business deal collapsed. Overnight he lost everything — houses, cars, savings, reputation. Bankruptcy. Ruin.

And in the ashes, the Lord finally got the man He had purchased on Calvary.

From that wreckage rose Koinonia House, verse-by-verse Bible teaching that has fed millions. But toward the end of his life, Missler’s voice would often crack when he spoke to young people. You can still hear it on old recordings:

“I spent the prime years of my life — my energy, my intellect — building things that have zero eternal value. I wish with all my heart I had given my youth to the Lord instead of the corporate world. If I had those years back I would spend every single day in the Word and on my knees… Don’t do what I did. Give Him your twenties and thirties while you still have them. I got in at the eleventh hour. You don’t have to.”

He wasn’t the only giant who died with tears in his eyes.

David Wilkerson stood on the platform of Times Square Church sobbing:
“I pastored a large church, wrote best-selling books, traveled the world… and I’m afraid much of it was for me. Don’t waste your life.”

Leonard Ravenhill, voice trembling before a room of pastors:
“We’re all prostitutes… entertainers, not prophets. Oh God, have we wasted it all?”

A.W. Tozer on his deathbed:
“I’ve spent too much time writing books that made me famous instead of being alone with God.”

Keith Green, dead at 28, had already screamed from stages:
“The only difference between most pastors and the world is we do it on Sundays and call it church!”

Paris Reidhead, after years as a “successful” missionary:
“I discovered I was doing it so tribes would be civilized humanists… not for the glory of the Lamb. I was a thief and a robber.”

These were not obscure radicals. These are the men whose tapes and books sit on your shelf right now.

And every single one of them reached the finish line (or close to it) and looked back at the “successful Christian life” the church celebrates — big ministry, big salary, big platform — and saw wood, hay, and straw ready for the fire.

They all said the same thing with tears:
I wish I had lived as a slave of Christ from the beginning.

Because that is the only identity Scripture gives the believer: doulos Christou — slave of Christ.
Every other master is forbidden.

Yet the average evangelical church now preaches “dream big,” “discover your purpose,” “monetize your passion,” “build your brand for Jesus” — the exact message Disney and Silicon Valley give the world.

We have equated the American Dream with the Gospel, and we are vexed in our righteous souls every day like righteous Lot who chose the well-watered plain and ended up in Sodom.

The broad road really is broad.
Mortgage payments, college funds, and senior pastor salaries all depend on no one asking the question Paul asked in 1 Corinthians 7.

So the question is no longer theoretical.

Whose slave are you right now — today — with the years you still have left?

The Master you fear losing is the master you serve.

If the thought of walking away from the career, the income stream, the retirement plan, the respect of family and church friends terrifies you more than the thought of standing before Christ with a lifetime of wasted strength… you already have your answer.

Chuck Missler got the answer at 50 when God took everything away.

David Wilkerson got it in his seventies when the Holy Spirit broke him on stage.

You do not have to wait that long.

The years are short.
The harvest is great.
The workers are playing golf and scrolling Instagram.

Listen to the tremor in Chuck Missler’s voice when he pleads with the young:

“Give Him your youth while it is still called today.”

He is not in the ground begging you to be weird.
He is home with the Master he finally served full-time — and from that vantage point he sees clearly what most of us still cannot.

Do not waste your life.

There is only one life that will soon be past.
Only what is done as a slave of Christ will last.

Repent.
Resign if you must.
Downsize.
Move.
Give away.
Pray until you break.

Find the hidden remnant who still believe Jesus when He said, “If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow Me.”

The eleventh hour is still open.
But the night comes when no man can work.

Don’t make the dead giants weep for you too.

Let that sentence haunt you until you change everything.

Because one day — sooner than you think — you will wish it too…
or you will rejoice forever that someone warned you while there was still time.

Choose this day whom you will serve.