Beyond the Smoke: Why "Shortcut Spirituality" is a Dangerous Game

Beyond the Smoke: Why "Shortcut Spirituality" is a Dangerous Game

Getting the Honey

In the world of professional beekeeping, there is a rigorous technicality that most of us never see. A seasoned pro doesn't just "go get some honey." They operate with a checklist of surgical precision: they handle frames with care, use specific knives for uncapping, monitor centrifugal force in the extractor, and obsess over moisture content using refractometers to ensure the water level is below 18%. It is a craft of patience, knowledge, and respect for the hive.

However, when confronted with this list of technicalities, a common reaction is to laugh and say, "That’s too much work. I’d just light a fire, smoke those bees’ little backsides, and grab the goods."

It sounds simple. It sounds efficient. But in the world of the hive—and in the world of the Spirit—the shortcut is often the path to disaster.

The Child at the Wheel

To understand why "simple" isn't always "better," think of a child sitting in the driver’s seat of a car. To a child, driving looks easy: you turn a key and press a pedal. But we all know that if that child actually puts that "knowledge" into practice, the result is a catastrophe.

The car isn't the problem; the car is a powerful tool designed for progress. The disaster happens because there is power without procedure and action without experience.

The Corinthian Crisis: Spiritually Gifted but Spiritually Empty?

The Corinthian Crisis: Spiritually Gifted but Spiritually Empty?

A Haunting Mirror

The sharpest rebuke in the New Testament wasn’t hurled at Rome’s pagans but at Corinth’s believers. Overflowing with gifts, miracles, and eloquence, they were still called “people of the flesh” (1 Corinthians 3:1). That warning echoes today: it is possible to speak Heaven’s language while living Hell’s logic.

Paul reminds us: “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up” (1 Corinthians 8:1). If your faith is a platform for ego rather than a grave for pride, you are not walking with God—you are decorating yourself with His name. The Spirit does not empower performance; He crucifies self so Christ may live: “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20).

The Infancy of Competition

Corinth divided itself between Paul and Apollos: “For when one says, ‘I follow Paul,’ and another, ‘I follow Apollos,’ are you not being merely human?” (1 Corinthians 3:4). We divide ourselves between movements, teachers, and tribes. Beneath the robes of “discernment” often lurks envy.

If you measure your worth against another’s blessing, you are still an infant in Christ: “For you are still of the flesh. For while there is jealousy and strife among you, are you not of the flesh and behaving only in a human way?” (1 Corinthians 3:3). The carnal mind craves being “first”; the spiritual mind bows deeper into the humility of the Cross: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves” (Philippians 2:3).

Building with Straw or Gold

The Quest for True Godliness

The Quest for True Godliness

Paul writes,

“For bodily exercise profits little: but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come” (1 Timothy 4:8).

What is godliness? It is not mere morality, nor the polish of discipline. Godliness is the life of God reflected in man—the reverent devotion that springs from faith in Christ, shaping both heart and conduct. It is the soul’s alignment with God, not through ritual or regimen, but through relationship with His Son.

• Consider the athlete. His body is trained to perfection, muscles honed through sweat and sacrifice. Yet his strength cannot lift him into heaven. His discipline may win medals, but it cannot win eternal life.
• Consider the monk. His mind is trained to silence, thoughts subdued by meditation. Yet his stillness cannot reconcile him to God. His discipline may bring peace of mind, but it cannot bring peace with God.
• Consider the scholar. His intellect is vast, his knowledge deep. Yet wisdom of the world cannot unlock the mystery of salvation. His books may fill libraries, but they cannot fill the soul with godliness.

All these pursuits—bodily, mental, intellectual—profit for a season. They shape life on earth, but they cannot secure life eternal. Godliness, however, is profitable in every way, because it is rooted in Christ.

Godliness is not achieved by human effort. It is received by faith. It is Christ living in us, His Spirit shaping our desires, His Word guiding our steps. It is the believer’s daily walk, not in the strength of flesh or brilliance of mind, but in the power of grace.

Paul’s contrast is vivid:

• Exercise of the body strengthens for a moment.
• Discipline of the mind calms for a season.
• Godliness in Christ secures both now and eternity.

True godliness is not found in the gym, the monastery, or the library. It is found at the cross. It is found in surrender, in faith, in Christ alone.

So the quest is clear: seek not merely the strength of the body or the mastery of the mind, but the life of God in the soul. Desire godliness, and desire it in the right place—in Christ, who is our righteousness, our peace, and our eternal life.

God's Two Governments (Book Preview: Chapter 1)

Hi all,

Below is the first chapter of my book called "God's Two Governments". As you may be aware, the book is on pre-order for two more days before it goes live on Amazon. If you are captivated or your interest is sparked by the chapter below, then take advantage of the pre-order price in these last two days. The book goes live on Monday at the full sale price. If you happen to purchase the book, and have read it, please return to the Amazon site and leave a review. It will help to keep the book visible on the site and allow more people to find it. My deepest thanks and appreciation for your support.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: The Departure

The Setting

The morning air in Haran hangs heavy with the scent of ancient dust and the lingering smoke of cooking fires. Abram’s journey began in Ur, the city of his birth, where his story first took root. For some years, Haran had offered a new boundary of comfort after the migration of his father Terah, but now, at the age of seventy-five, the horizon looks different. He stands at the edge of his encampment, his eyes scanning the distance where the Euphrates snakes through the fertile crescent, wondering about the voice that has disrupted his peace. Though memories of his father linger in his heart, a deeper, more pressing weight stirs within his chest—a call that did not come from the idols of Ur or the traditions of his kin. It was a call that demanded a total severing of ties, a departure from the familiar shadows of his father’s house toward a destination hidden entirely in the mind of the Almighty.

His servants move with hushed efficiency, sensing the shift in their master’s spirit as they pack the heavy woollen tents and secure the livestock. Sarai watches him from the tent entrance, her face a mask of silent questions and unspoken fears about the wilderness ahead. There are no maps to consult, no established trade routes that can guarantee the safety of such a massive undertaking into the unknown. To leave Haran is to leave protection; to leave kindred is to leave identity and the safety of the clan. Yet, the atmosphere feels charged, as if the very stars that guided them from the south are now waiting for a new decree from the heavens. Abram breathes in the dry, morning air, and in the profound stillness of the Mesopotamian dawn, the heavens open with a promise that will alter the course of human history and set the foundation for an earthly kingdom.

Our Identity Is the New Man, Not Israel

Our Identity Is the New Man, Not Israel

A SOCIAL MEDIA COMMENT:

Israel as a nation is no longer God’s chosen people because they rejected Christ. Their probation ended in AD 34. Now, only individuals—Jew or Gentile—who believe in Jesus are part of God’s true chosen people. The promises belong to the church, not to Israel according to the flesh.

MY REPLY:

I appreciate the effort you’ve put into quoting scripture, but the way you’re piecing it together misses the proper context of God’s program. The key issue is this: you are mixing Israel’s prophetic program with the mystery revealed to Paul, and that leads to confusion.

When Jesus spoke in Matthew 23, He was addressing Israel under the law, not the Body of Christ. Acts 7 records Israel’s continued rejection, yes—but that rejection did not “end their probation” in the way you describe. Instead, it set the stage for something God had kept hidden: the revelation of the mystery given to Paul (Eph.3:1–9). That mystery was not about Israel’s national destiny, but about a brand‑new creation—the Body of Christ—made up of Jew and Gentile alike, with no distinction (2Cor.5:17; Gal.3:28).

Romans 10 is Paul’s lament for Israel, but notice that in Romans 11 he explains their blindness is temporary until the fulness of the Gentiles comes in. That means God has not cancelled Israel’s promises; He has simply interrupted their program to bring in the mystery of the Body. To say Israel’s fate was “sealed in AD 34” is to ignore Paul’s clear teaching that Israel will yet be grafted back in when God resumes their program (Rom.11:25–27).

The Debt You Don’t Have to Repay: A Lesson in Grace and Forgiveness

The Debt You Don’t Have to Repay: A Lesson in Grace and Forgiveness

When we rightly divide the Word of Truth, we discover the liberating difference between the conditional forgiveness taught under the Gospel of the Kingdom and the unconditional, finished forgiveness given to us under Grace. In Matthew 18:21–35, Jesus tells the parable of the unforgiving servant: a man forgiven of an impossible debt of 10,000 talents, yet unwilling to release his fellow servant from a mere 100 pence. The King, angered by this hypocrisy, revokes his mercy and delivers the servant to the tormentors. To Israel under the Law, this was a sobering warning—“Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven” (Luke 6:37). Their forgiveness was conditional, revocable, and tied to their performance. Jesus Himself concluded, “So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses” (Matthew 18:35).

But when we turn to Paul, the Apostle of the Gentiles, we see the glorious shift brought by the Cross. Forgiveness is no longer a transaction waiting to be revoked; it is a finished fact. Paul writes, “And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you” (Ephesians 4:32). Notice the tense—hath forgiven you. Colossians 2:13 confirms it: “And you, being dead in your sins… hath he quickened together with him, having forgiven you all trespasses.” Under Grace, God cannot “un-forgive” you, because Christ already bore the torment for your debt. The ledger is not merely canceled—it is paid in full at Calvary.