Tag: Regeneration

The NARROW Gate Is NARROWER Than You Think: Most Churchgoers WILL NOT Inherit the KINGDOM

Look around your church this Sunday.
Look at the worship team, the elders, the smiling faces in the seats, the people posting Scripture memes and “Jesus is King” captions.

Now hear the words of the King Himself:

“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” (Matthew 7:13–14)

Jesus did not say “some.” He did not say “a troubling minority.”
He said most.

And He was talking about the very people who thought they were on their way to heaven.

It’s evident that many who profess to know God in Christ do not even in the remotest way resemble the Spirit of Christ. They lack the divine imprint. They possess a different spirit and a different wisdom — earthly, sensual, devilish — and from within them flows muddy water and bitter fruit (James 3:15–17). They sing about the blood of Jesus while stabbing brothers in the back. They preach grace while living in greed, lust, and pride. They are tares dressed up as wheat, goats wearing sheep’s clothing.

And one day Jesus will look them in the eye and say, “I never knew you; depart from Me, you workers of lawlessness” (Matthew 7:23).

“And Such Were Some of You”… Or Were You?

Paul wrote to a church full of people who thought they were safe:

“Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

And such were some of you.
But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.” (1 Corinthians 6:9–11)

Notice the past tense: were.
True conversion is not a prayer you prayed once. It is a radical, irreversible transformation. You do not just get a new label — you get a new heart, a new spirit, a new Master. The old man dies. The new man lives.

Yet look again at the average church.

Where is the evidence of this washing? Where is the sanctification?          Where is the fear of God?

  • People shack up and call it “love.”
  • Greed is called “blessing.”
  • Gossip and slander are called “prayer requests.”
  • Hatred for a brother is called “discernment ministry.”
  • Pornography is winked at while the preacher yells about politics.

John could not be clearer:

“Whoever says ‘I know Him’ but does not keep His commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him”    (1 John 2:4).

“Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him” (1 John 3:15).

If you hate a brother or sister in Christ — if bitterness and unforgiveness live in your heart — John says you do not have eternal life. Period.

The Terrifying Marks of False Profession

False Professor (Never Truly Born Again)

True Child of God (Imperfect but Real)

No real grief over sin — only damage control when caught

Ongoing brokenness and hatred of sin

Fruit is consistently bitter: division, pride, sensuality, greed

Fruit of the Spirit grows: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness…

Loves the praise of men more than the praise of God

Loves God and loves the brethren, even when it costs

Can quote Scripture while living in rebellion

Trembles at God’s word and obeys, even imperfectly

Eventually falls away or hardens under trial

Perseveres through fire because God keeps His own

Paul told Titus:

“They profess to know God, but they deny Him by their works. They are detestable, disobedient, unfit for any good work” (Titus 1:16).

That is not a description of a “carnal Christian.” That is a description of a lost person play-acting faith.

Do Not Be Deceived

The most dangerous lie in the church today is this:
“You can live however you want and still go to heaven because you prayed a prayer in 1997.”

That is a demonic lie straight from the pit.

Grace is not a license to sin. Grace is the power that kills sin.

If your life does not look increasingly like Jesus — if there is no war against the flesh, no growing love for holiness, no supernatural affection for God’s people — then the Bible says you have every reason to fall on your face and cry out for mercy while mercy can still be found.

The Good News for Today

The narrow gate is still open.
The blood of Jesus still cleanses the worst sinner who truly repents.

The same Paul who wrote the terrifying list also wrote:
“And such were some of you. But you were washed…”

Today — right now — if you hear His voice, do not harden your heart.
Run to Christ.

Confess every sin.
Forsake every idol.
Plead for the new birth that only the Spirit can give.

Because one day the door will close.
And most who thought they were inside will find themselves on the outside, forever.

The narrow gate is narrower than you think.
Make sure you have entered it — truly entered it — while there is still time.

“Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves.” (2 Corinthians 13:5)

The King is coming.
Be ready.
Be real.
Be found in Him.

Maranatha. 🔥

 

Three CRIES, One Grace: My Journey TO LIFE in God

I didn’t choose God like picking a book off a shelf. Faith wasn’t a decision I mulled over—it was a lifeline I grabbed when the darkness of my soul nearly swallowed me whole. This is my story: three cries from a broken life, answered by one grace that remade me. It’s not neat, but it’s real—and if you’re searching for purpose, it’s for you too.

The Void That Defined Me

A gnawing emptiness shadowed me from the start. Childhood wasn’t a warm memory—it was a jagged edge, a void nothing could fill. Hobbies fizzled, distractions faded, and the world seemed to spit me out like Jonah from the whale. Schools branded me hopeless, a lost cause not worth the effort. Church folks tried to reel me in, but their Sunday smiles turned hollow by Monday—I saw the masks. Oddly, I found more truth among unbelievers, rough souls who didn’t judge me like the “righteous” did. Still, I was a misfit, adrift in a life that had no slot for me. Sin’s weight grew, a stranglehold tightening, and I teetered on the edge—ready to end it all.

The Light That Found Me

Then an accident pinned me down—bedridden, trapped, with nothing but time and a sealed Gideon’s Bible on the shelf. Curiosity cracked it open, and I tore into it like a starved man, devouring every page. The Gospels hit hardest, but I didn’t have some grand epiphany—not yet. I just ate, clueless, while God’s Word sank deep, an incorruptible seed (1 Peter 1:23). Days later, it broke loose: a heavenly shift—peace flooded in, the kind Jesus promised, “My peace I give unto you” (John 14:27). Joy surged, and my old crutches—cigarettes, alcohol, filthy words—turned sour. I didn’t pray a formula; grace crashed in unbidden, remaking me from the core.

That’s when I knew why I believe. He’s the light of all humanity (John 1:4), a brilliance only the broken can truly see. In my abyss, that light pierced through—not random, but personal, as if I’d been chosen, predestined for rescue (Eph. 1:4-5). It was God’s goodness, His grace, shattering my despair like dawn through a storm. I was famished, crushed by sin’s burden, and like a dying man lunging for bread, I grabbed it—the life I couldn’t conjure. “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8), and I did. I tasted Him, and I’m changed forever.

The Cry That Birthed Me Anew

The shadows didn’t just weigh me down—they crushed me open. Weeping, I’d whisper, “Somebody help me!”—a plea from a soul collapsing under sin. That’s when the Father drew me (John 6:44). Jesus, the Great Physician, came for the brokenhearted (Luke 4:18), and my cry stirred His compassion. I wasn’t righteous or polished—I was a wreck, a child begging. The proud don’t need a Savior, but I did. He heard me, pulling me from the wreckage of my chaos.

Friends saw it: “This isn’t Bob.” The old me—ringleader of ruin—vanished. Those who thrived on my darkness ditched me; one called me a “good chap” gone astray. They drifted off, but I wasn’t alone—I’d been born of God (John 1:13). How do you wrap that in words? With man, it’s impossible; with God, it’s a miracle. I thought this was just for me, a fluke for the few, but no—salvation’s for all (Titus 2:11). I loved the shadows until they broke me. Jesus knocks on every heart (Rev. 3:20)—mine, yours, everyone’s. I was lost, now I’m found—because of Him.

A Call to the Searching

This isn’t a fairy tale for the chosen few—it’s a lifeline for the wrecked. If you feel that void, if darkness chokes you, cry out. Crack open His Word, taste His goodness. He’s the Life of man, the Physician who heals, and He’s still reaching today. Three cries—despair, discovery, deliverance—led me to one grace. Will you let Him in?

The ILLUSION of Choosing BELIEF: Unleashing the TRUE Gospel

We’ve been sold a counterfeit gospel—a flimsy tale of human triumph where faith begins with us. Ask someone when they met Christ, and they’ll point to a moment of personal resolve: “I chose to believe.” It’s a story we cling to, a trophy we polish—belief as our doing, our decision. But that’s a mirage, a hollow lid begging to be blown off. The gospel the apostles preached doesn’t start with man’s will. It starts with God’s decree, surges with the Spirit’s fire, and leaves no room for boasting. It’s time to shake the dust off our boots, let the Lion of the Tribe of Judah roar, and march to the Spirit’s tune.

The Apostolic Gospel: God’s Act, Not Ours

The apostles didn’t peddle a feel-good pitch. They proclaimed a fact: Jesus Christ, sent by God, died for our sins, was buried, and rose on the third day, fulfilling Scripture (1 Cor. 15:3-4). Peter thundered at Pentecost, “Jesus of Nazareth… God raised Him up, loosing the pangs of death” (Acts 2:22-24). Paul hammered it home: Christ’s death and resurrection, witnessed and foretold, is the power by which we’re saved (1 Cor. 15:1-8). Philip unpacked Isaiah 53 to the eunuch—Jesus, the suffering servant who bore our iniquities (Acts 8:35). No “Jesus loves you; just believe.” No sentimental hook. They announced God’s victory—Christ crucified, raised, and reigning—and the Spirit took it from there.

Jesus Himself set the pattern when He sent Paul: “Open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me” (Acts 26:18). Open their eyes—whose job is that? The Spirit’s, through an anointed vessel. Belief isn’t the root; it’s the fruit. Paul said it: “My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power” (1 Cor. 2:4-5). The apostles waited for the Spirit’s move—Peter saw hearts cut at Pentecost (Acts 2:37), Philip discerned the eunuch’s faith after illumination (Acts 8:37), Cornelius’ household spoke in tongues mid-sermon (Acts 10:44-46)—the Spirit didn’t wait for their “yes.” “Believe” wasn’t a command tossed out solo; it came after the Spirit’s visible work. Belief came up few times, always after the Spirit’s visible work—“everyone who believes in Him receives forgiveness,” Peter preached (Acts 10:43), but only as the Spirit fell. This is the gospel: God decrees, the Spirit moves, and dead souls rise.

The Lie of Human Initiative

We’ve twisted this into a man-made myth: faith as a personal decision, a rational flex we muster up. But Scripture torches that illusion. “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6). It’s Genesis 1 all over again—God speaks, light breaks in, and the Spirit hovers. That’s regeneration: the Word decrees, the Spirit acts, and a corpse stirs. Lydia’s heart? “The Lord opened it” (Acts 16:14). The Gentiles? Unlocked by God for the “incorruptible seed” (1 Peter 1:23). A dead man doesn’t choose life—it’s breathed into him first.

Romans 2:4 nails it: “The goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance.” Not your grit—His kindness. Galatians 6:7 warns, “God is not mocked”—we can’t sow faith and claim we plowed the field. If we wedge ourselves into God’s order, we steal leverage to boast. But Romans 3:27 slams the door: “Where is boasting then? It is excluded… by the law of faith.” Faith’s merit isn’t ours—it’s His. The elect soul doesn’t claw its way to Christ; it’s drawn by the Father, quickened by the Spirit, born anew by the Word. So when someone asks, “Do you believe?” don’t flex your choice. Ask: Who spoke light into your darkness?

The Cost of a Counterfeit Gospel

Without the Spirit’s power, men invent their own ways—fabricating ministries, preaching a “different gospel” (Gal. 1:6-7). It’s all noise unless the Holy Ghost drives it: “Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord” (Zech. 4:6). Jesus told them, “Tarry… until ye be endued with power from on high” (Luke 24:49). That’s the crucible—trying, sanctifying, breaking. You might lose, paying a price for the inheritance in Christ. But it’s easier to jump ahead, build your own stage, and peddle a hollow gospel. Today’s “Jesus loves you, just believe” is a shadow of what the apostles preached—a sales pitch dodging the Spirit’s fire.

How to Do the Gospel Work

The apostles didn’t wing it—they tarried, then proclaimed Christ’s victory, letting the Spirit open eyes. We can’t fake that power. Here’s how to bring the true gospel to every soul:

– Start with Prayer and Tarrying: Wait on the Spirit. No anointing, no impact—seek the fire that breaks yokes (Zech. 4:6).

– Proclaim, Don’t Plead: Declare what God did—Christ died, rose, reigns (1 Cor. 15:3-4). No fluff—just the fact of His lordship (Acts 2:24).

– Discern the Spirit’s Move: Don’t push “believe.” Look for conviction—cut hearts, lit eyes (Acts 2:37; 8:37). The Spirit leads; you follow.

– Tailor the Approach:

  – Idol Worshipper: Show Christ’s empty tomb over dead altars (Acts 17:24-31); pray the Spirit shatters their blindness (Acts 26:18).

  – Atheist: Hit with resurrection evidence (1 Cor. 15:6); let the Spirit pierce their denial (2 Cor. 4:6).

  – Backslider: Call them to the cross they knew (1 John 1:9); pray the Spirit reignites their fire (Rev. 2:4-5).

  – Moralist: Break their self-righteousness—Christ’s death saves, not works (Rom. 3:23-24); let the Spirit convict (John 16:8).

  – Seeker: Feed their hunger with Christ’s truth (Acts 8:35); trust the Spirit to plant the seed (1 Peter 1:23).

– Wait and Work: Some turn fast, some slow—stay Spirit-led, not success-driven (Acts 14:22).

– Seal with Baptism: When faith blooms, baptize them into Christ’s life (Acts 2:38)—the Spirit’s mark, not your win.

This isn’t a script—it’s surrender. The power’s the same for every soul: tarry ‘til you’ve got it, then go.

Let the Lion Roar

The church has slumbered under a diluted gospel, abused by falsehoods that rob grace and sideline the Spirit. No more. The time has come to put things right—to reclaim the apostolic thunder: Christ died, rose, reigns, and the Spirit sets men free. Let the Lion of the Tribe of Judah’s voice reverberate across the earth. Shake the dust off your boots, march to the Spirit’s tune, and watch the captives rise. When they ask, “Do you believe?” don’t nod to your will. Point to the One who woke you up.