A world at peace, without wars or military conflicts by any other name, is something most of us dream about but harsh reality and the prophecies God has given us in the Bible tell us that it will remain nothing but a dream until Christ returns.

In the meantime countries which are attacked or threatened by others have a legitimate right to self-defense. This applies to Ukraine and its defense against Vladimir “The Butcher” Putin’s Russia, and of especially to Israel, a nation reborn after the horrors of the Shoa when most of the world looked the other way while that other butcher, Adolf Hitler, and his minions attempted to exterminate the Jewish people and others.

For more than 70 years Israel has lived with threats from enemies whose declared goal is the destruction of the state and extermination of the people of Israel, and it has defended itself against repeated attacks and an ongoing campaign of terror with remarkable restraint, until the terrorist organization Hamas crossed a line with the massacre of October 7, 2023. Not surprisingly Israel retaliated, with the clear goals of rescuing the hostages taken into Gaza by the terrorist group Hamas, and destroying Hamas as a military force.

Unfortunately Hamas fights dirty, hiding its military installations among the civilian population1 in order to ensure huge numbers of civilian casualtieses2 and thus increasing international criticism of Israel. For this reason it now looks like both of these goals are unattainable: barring further deals involving swaps of Hamas terrorists in Israeli prisons for a handful of living hostages and the corpses of murdered ones it is unlikely that Israel can rescue those who remain alive in Hamas captivity, and Hamas seems to have an endless pool from which to replace fighters killed by the Israelis3, as well as international sponsors who share their goals and have deep pockets.

The most prominent of Hamas’ backers is the Islamic regime in Teheran, Iran, which for many years has been busy developing a nuclear program not just for civilian purposes but with the goal of acquiring their own nuclear weapons with which to dominate their region and the world. It is little wonder that for years, even decades, Israel has regarded this as a major threat to their security and very existence, and now they have acted and conducted strikes not only against Iranian nuclear research facilities and military installations but also against prominent figures of the Iranian military and nuclear research program.

It is too soon to tell how successful (i.e. longterm effective) this operation Rising Lion4 was, but unlike the war in Gaza (which in my eyes has lost its purpose and seems to be continued only to keep the Prime Minister in power and shielded from the legal troubles sure to ccatch up with him as soon as the war ends) yesterday’s strikes against Iran were a legitimate act of self-defense. My hope and prayer is that this military action (and its likely follow-ups) will not only eliminate the Iranian nuclear threat  but will also encourage and empower the Iranian opposition to rise up against the radically Islamist regime.

1. Hamas locates military installations not just in residential neighborhoods but in and under schools and hospitals.[↩]
2. The internationally reported numbers of casualties originate with the Gaza Health Ministry which is controlled by Hamas which not only doesn’t distinguish between killed fighters and civilian victims, but likely also inflates the numbers.[↩]
3. This endless pool of replacement fighters is why the assumption that all or most of the civilian casualties are “innocent victims” is flawed: while protests against Hamas are increasing in Gaza, the terrorist organization still enjoys massive support among the civilian population of Gaza. Every war produces civilian casualties; in most wars the civilian population is a mix of people who support their regime and those who do not; this was true in World War II when the killed civilians were a mix of Nazis andothers who simply looked the other way and didn’t get involved; it is the same in today’s Russia.[↩]
4. The name is taken from Numbers 23:24, and is possibly also a reference to the pre-Islamist flag of Iran which features a Lion and a Sun[↩]

During the 1980s, Jim Bakker was a prominent evangelist with a hugely successful television ministry. However, in 1990, he was arrested, tried, and convicted of defrauding his ministry’s supporters of approximately $158 million. In 1993, he was sentenced to 45 years in prison, a sentence that was later reduced to eight years on appeal. He ultimately served five years before being released.

While in prison, during his first year, Bakker read The Awe of God by John Bevere and requested a visit from the author. During that visit, as John later recounted, he asked Jim when, during his successful ministry career, he had gone wrong—when he had fallen out of love with Jesus.

Jim’s reply struck me deeply:

“John, I never fell out of love with Jesus. I loved Him all the way through it. But I didn’t fear God.”

He went on to say that many Christians are like he was—people who love Jesus but do not fear God.

I’m afraid he’s right. Many of them, like him, are successful and prominent in Christian ministry. That is the only explanation I have found for a phenomenon that has long puzzled me.

I regularly read The Roys Report, a newsletter dedicated to transparency and integrity within the evangelical church. Nearly every week, it reports on pastors and other high-profile Christian leaders who fall spectacularly—often at the peak of their careers—due to sin that had persisted for years. I have no trouble understanding how Christians can fall into sin (I only have to look at myself) but I find it difficult to understand how such men could stand in the pulpit week after week, preaching God’s Word or presiding at the Lord’s Table. Personally, I would not dare to live such a double life, I would be afraid God would strike me down. In fact, it is precisely the  awareness of my own sinfulness that has always led me to decline invitations to preach. Jim Bakker’s confession—“I never fell out of love with Jesus, but I didn’t fear God”—is the only reason I can conceive of for how these fallen leaders could continue ministering, even successfully, while living in duplicity.

Another dimension of this troubling pattern is the question of how such leaders can continue to be successful despite the hidden sin in their lives. I found a possible answer in Ezekiel 44:

“Surely the Levites who wandered away from me when Israel went astray, and who strayed from me after their idols, will bear the consequences of their iniquity. Yet they will occupy my sanctuary, serving as guards at the temple gates and ministering at the temple. They will slaughter the burnt offerings and other sacrifices for the people and will stand before them to serve them. Because they ministered to the house of Israel before their idols and became a sinful stumbling block to them, therefore I swore an oath against them”—this is the declaration of the Lord God—“that they would bear the consequences of their iniquity. They must not approach me to serve me as priests or come near any of my holy things or the most holy things. They will bear their disgrace and the consequences of the detestable acts they committed. Yet I will make them responsible for the duties of the temple—for all its work and everything done in it.” (Ezekiel 44:10–14, CSB)

It is as though God is saying: I will not punish the people by withholding the ministry they need just because their shepherds have gone astray. By God’s grace, even unworthy ministers can preach His Word and serve as instruments of His grace.

This article by Denys Gorenkov¹ was published initially by The Baptist Standard. Reposted by permission.

Russia is waging a war of annihilation against Ukraine using every force and means at its disposal. Among those tools are the religious communities of the aggressor state.

And this doesn’t refer only to Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill (Gundyaev), Muslim leader Talgat Tadzhuddin and Jewish representative Aaron Gurevich. Small but tightly organized evangelical churches in Russia quickly mobilized their resources to support the imperial war effort.

Evangelicals in service of Russia

Evangelical leaders are counting not only on the approval of the authorities, but also on certain trophies, having replaced the message of Christ with the commandments of the “Z-religion.” “Z” is the symbol of Russia’s so-called “Special Military Operation.”

Unlike the Russian Orthodox Church, which swiftly and centrally aligned its rhetoric and structures with the war machine, the evangelical churches were slower to adapt. Some leaders resisted; others left the country.

Yet three years into the full-scale invasion, Russian evangelicals have taken their place firmly in the ranks. Pastors publicly bless Putin and proclaim their support for the “Special Military Operation.”

Following the Buryat² soldiers armed with rifles, the “missionaries” move in. On the ruins of Ukrainian houses of prayer, Russian “brothers” distribute humanitarian aid and sing praise songs.

Amid the rubble of Mariupol, Ukraine, Russian “missionary” Andrey Krysov recorded a video invitation to a missionary conference scheduled to take place in Yekaterinburg, Russia.

Krysov is listed as one of the speakers for the event. Alongside another “missiologist,” Pavel Puzanov, he will train Russian believers on how to carry out “missions on the liberated territories,” according to a since-deleted Telegram channel for the conference.

But the question of which God and which mission the Russian “Z-Christians” actually believe in won’t be raised at the Yekaterinburg conference—nor at any other conference, leadership summit or prayer breakfast across Russia.

Those who might ask such questions are imprisoned, exiled or eliminated. Those who remain are eager to snatch their slice of the cannibal’s feast.

Russian church leaders—Shatrov: bishop, deputy presiding bishop of the Russian Union of Evangelical Christians in the Northwestern Federal District; Dirinenko: bishop, deputy presiding bishop of the Russian Union of Evangelical Christians in the Central Federal District; Kolesnikov: chairman of the All-Union Fellowship of Evangelical Christians; and Karasyov: bishop of the All-Russian Fellowship of Evangelical Christians—proudly reported the growth of their congregations during a prayer breakfast³ in Washington, D.C., on Feb. 6, 2025: “Even under the difficult conditions of the Special Military Operation, our churches are multiplying,” according to some prayer breakfast participants.

And indeed, they are—just as they did after the occupations of Moldova, Georgia and Crimea.

Church growth strategy

The strategy is the same everywhere. First, security forces raid the homes and churches of local Christian leaders in occupied territories. Then come the bureaucrats, demanding the churches re-register under Russian law.

After them arrive emissaries from Russian Protestant church unions, offering a friendly deal: Join us, and you’ll gain official Russian registration. Those who refused were eliminated by the security services. Those who agreed now boost the statistics of Russian church growth.

The major instrument of these “mergers and acquisitions” is the Associated Russian Union of Christians of Evangelical Faith (ROSKhVE).

Early in the so-called “Special Military Operation,” ROSKhVE’s leader Sergey Ryakhovsky made the union’s stance⁴ crystal clear: “We are Russian citizens and patriots of our country.”

Speaking at a meeting of the Council of Religious Leaders of the Russian Federation, where the issue of the “Special Military Operation” in Ukraine was discussed, Ryakhovsky stated⁵: “Today, we have no other way to defend the truth,” and added, “I am convinced that we are all moved by love.”

Russian evangelicals, of course, do not have the same influence as Moscow Orthodoxy, and compared to the “wolf” Kirill Gundyaev, their leaders appear more like “wolf cubs.” But the “wolf cubs” also want to profit from their support of the “Special Military Operation,” and therefore are ready to pray not only for Putin, but also to Putin.

During the years of war, the churches of the aggressor country have significantly “multiplied” thanks to the communities in the occupied territories.

Even their theology has shifted.

Change in theology

As early as 2014, right after the annexation of Crimea, some Russian Baptists⁶—descendants of the unbreakable Soviet-era confessional Christians—issued a thoroughly servile appeal to Putin, thanking him for “defending and strengthening spiritual and moral values.”

Today, Russian churches have changed beyond recognition. They no longer resemble the historic Protestant witness that once dared to stand for the truth and speak it to power.

The language of the church—a reflection of its thinking—has quickly absorbed the vocabulary of the state. Phrases like “liberating military actions” and “liberated territories” now roll off the tongue without a second thought.

Sergey Kireyev, a ROSKhVE leader⁷, proudly declared in a report titled Two Years of the SMO: The Contribution of Penza Protestants to Our Common Victory that “tremendous work has already been done—but even greater work lies ahead, both in Penza and in the new territories.”

Indeed, ROSKhVE and other Russian evangelicals still have a lot of work left to do. Their organizations are focused on the “newly liberated territories,” and their “missiologists” have devised a custom-built mission strategy—to settle and establish Ukrainian lands Russian troops have “cleansed.”

Persecution of Christians

The facts of Christian persecution for refusing to join the “Z-religion” are detailed in the report Faith Under Russian Terror⁸.

According to Pastor Mykhailo Brytsyn, a co-author of the report: “On the Ukrainian territories occupied between 2022 and 2024, Russia orchestrated a sweeping religious genocide: hundreds of religious communities were destroyed; clergy members, after being arrested and interrogated, were brutally deported or forced to flee their homes; church buildings were seized by the occupation authorities and repurposed for their needs.

In Melitopol alone, more than 15 church buildings—most of them Protestant—were taken over. Not a single one was returned to the religious communities, even after they underwent the so-called “re-registration under Russian law.”

It is under these conditions that Russian church leaders launch their “missionary activity”—a grotesque operation that resembles destroying a beautiful park just to plant a few little trees.

And while all this unfolds, Russian church leaders travel freely around the world, convincing Western audiences Russia is a land of religious freedom, Christian values and vibrant church growth.

American preacher Rick Renner, who relocated to Russia, openly praises the regime and provides it with powerful media support. People believe Renner, Ryakhovsky, Shatrov and Dirinenko—because those who could have challenged them are rotting in prison, lying in graves, or branded as radicals and untouchables.

The example of the Third Reich

None of this is new to the history of Christianity. The “German Christians” of the Third Reich behaved similarly. Their ideologues clearly understood their role in the “final solution to the Jewish question”—just as today’s Russian “missiologists” understand their role in their “mission to the liberated territories.”

The leaders of the Reich Church deceived American Christians in much the same way the leaders of the “Z-Church” do now. And they were believed.

In 1936, Oswald Smith from the People’s Church in Toronto—a respected missionary with a spotless evangelical reputation—visited Germany and returned singing Hitler’s praises. His glowing report was based on conversations with fellow evangelicals. Germany, Smith claimed, had “awakened.”

“German believers say they are satisfied with Hitler.” And this sentiment was widespread: “Every true Christian is for Hitler.” See footnote.

Silenced opposition

Today, there are Russian Christians who do not share the euphoria of leaders like Ryakhovsky or Kireyev—but their voices are silenced and go unheard.

All that remains is the loud singing at conferences and worship services, echoing the haunting image Erwin Lutzer describes in Hitler’s Cross, where German believers kept singing as the trains passed by:

“A railroad track ran behind our small church and each Sunday morning we could hear the whistle in the distance and then the wheels coming over the tracks. We became disturbed when we heard the cries coming from the train as it passed by. We realized that it was carrying Jews like cattle in the cars!

“Week after week the whistle would blow. We dreaded to hear the sound of those wheels because we knew that we would hear the cries of the Jews en route to a death camp. Their screams tormented us.

“We knew the time the train was coming and when we heard the whistle blow we began singing hymns. By the time the train came past our church we were singing at the top of our voices. If we heard screams, we sang more loudly and soon we heard them no more.”

Just as before, the participants of the upcoming “missionary conference” in Yekaterinburg, Russia, will sing “even louder”—before heading off to workshops on how to carry out missions “on the liberated territories.”

Will there be a faithful remnant?

Christianity in today’s Russia has morphed into “Z-Christianity”—a religion of assimilation and absorption, of conquest wrapped in praise choruses.

Will there be found among the Russian church the “seven thousand who have not bowed the knee to Baal” (1 Kings 19:18)? Only the Lord knows. Only he knows whether new leaders might yet rise from among Russian evangelicals—leaders able to resist, to discern his will and to remain faithful.

As for the rest—for the “Z-Christians” who have traded their witness for propaganda, who pray to empire and sing to silence the sound of suffering—the prophetic words of Longfellow toll like a bell:

“Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small;
Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all.”

*******

Source of quotes on Christians in Hitler’s Germany: Oswald J. Smith, “My Visit to Germany,” The Defender 11 (September 1936): 15. David A. Rausch, A Legacy of Hatred (Chicago: Moody, 1984), 101.

Acccording to a report in the Wall Street Journal¹ the USA are stepping up its intelligence-gathering efforts regarding Greenland, underscoring President Trump’s intentions to take over the large island. Danish foreign minister, Lars Løkke Rasmussen, told the Ritzau news agency on Wednesday that “It worries me a lot, because we don’t spy between friends.”²

I think it is time for all traditional allies of the United States to realize that, at least as far the Trump administration is concerned, the US does not view allies as friends but as vassals, and that its actions will reflect that.

The Trump administration claims to be guided by two mottos which dictate its actions, which ostensibly are: “America first!” and “Make America great again!“. In practice, however, they seem to be “Make America great again by diminishing everyone else!” and “America alone!“, and their policies and actions reflect that, from unilaterally renaming the Gulf of Mexico, to laying claim to other countries’ territories (or even the entire country), to making assistance against an aggressor dependent on an exploitative minerals deal.

On this anniversary of the end of the Second World War and the defeat of the fascist regimes in Germany and Italy it should worry us that a number of political analysts and commentators have identified increasingly obvious characteristics of fascist regimes in the rhetoric and conduct of the Trump administration. During Trump’s first term I used to dismiss comparisons of Trump with Hitler, something I find increasingly difficult to do.

The prospect of the European Union being surrounded on all sides by increasingly unfriendly large and more or less aggressive countries (Trump’s USA, Putin’s Russia, and Xi’s China), as well as a Muslim world increasingly dominated by Islamist extremists, is not very reassuring. The only thing keeping despair at bay is the assurance that “He’s got the whole world in His hand!” and that He is more powerful than any of these (would-be or actual) dictators and terrorists, and that He will prevail in the end.³

C. Michael Patton¹, theologian and founder of Credo House, posted this article, and I found it so helpful in thinking about sin that I decided to re-post it here. I e-mailed Michael asking for permission but seem to be unable to get in touch with him, so I decided to assume his permission and post it anyway I can always take it down again should he object.

Red Stuff: The Adventure of Trading Everything for Nothing
Harmartiology for the Rest of Us

by C. Michael Patton

If someone were to ask me this in my normal everyday context — in my self-appointed role as Theology Czar — I would probably give them a machine-gun overview of sin from a doctrinal perspective. First, I might define it as “hamartiology.” (Yes, I might be doing this to impress them — which is not above me, even at 52.) But more than likely, I would want them to know the rich history Christian theology has with thinking deeply about sin.

Then I’d pull the trigger: personal sin, imputed sin, inherited sin, mortal sins vs. venial sins, sins of omission vs. sins of commission — and, for good measure, I’d drop in another fancy word with a lot of meaning: Saint Augustine’s concupiscence (you will have to look that one up).

That’s what comes to mind right now.

However, while these distinctions matter, they would likely only confuse the average person today. After all, in today’s world, the word sin isn’t just an old-fashioned term that makes you sound like a “fundy” (as it was in my day) — it’s almost a forgotten relic in time. It used to label someone as old-school, but now, it’s so seldom used that many people barely know what it means. They’ve probably heard it, but it’s as unfamiliar to them as the word “hamartiology.”

(Hamartiology, by the way, means “the study of sin,” from the Greek word ἁμαρτία (hamartía), meaning “sin.” There — I got my R.C. Sproul moment out of the way!)

Because of that, it’s usually best to start with the simplest and most practical definition:

Sin is missing the mark.

That is how I have always heard it defined. That is how my Greek seminary professor defined it. Think of it like shooting an arrow at a target, but missing the center. But in this case, it’s missing the mark of God’s hopes for His children whom He loves.

This definition is good — very good.

But honestly, I think there’s an even better way to frame it — a way that gets closer to God’s perspective. (Leave it to me to claim exclusive access to that!)

Here’s my definition:

Sin is a worthless choice.

Swallowing the Red Stuff

There is simply — in my mind — no more vivid illustration of this than the age-old story of Jacob and Esau. And yes, it really is age-old — but for most people you talk to today, it will probably be the first time they’ve ever heard the story. And that’s okay, because it’s unforgettable once you really see what’s happening. Plus, it’s hilarious in its own tragic way.

Characters: Two brothers — one cunning younger brother, Jacob, and one foolish older brother, Esau. As was the custom of the day, the older brother stood to inherit the family fortune, which in this case included a divine promise — a covenant blessing that would impact the whole world. This inheritance was called a birthright.

Setting: The day is assuming room temperature in the hills of Canaan (i.e., the day is dying). Jacob — the mama’s boy with soft hands and a knack for cooking (as one would expect) — is at home, stirring a pot of stew and stirring up a massive plot to trick his brother. He knows exactly what he’s doing, making sure the smell of his gourmet cooking fills the air.

Meanwhile, Esau, the rugged outdoorsman, comes busting through the door. He’s been out hunting all day (with no luck) — empty-handed, sweaty, starving, and half-convinced he’s about to die. He smells food. He sees Jacob stirring a pot of “red stuff,” as he calls it. And without thinking, he points at it and… well, let’s just read what happens next:

Genesis 25:29–34

When Jacob had cooked stew, Esau came in from the field and he was famished; and Esau said to Jacob, “Please let me have a swallow of that red stuff there, for I am famished.” (Therefore his name was called Edom.)
But Jacob said, “First sell me your birthright.”
Esau said, “Behold, I am about to die; so of what use then is the birthright to me?”
And Jacob said, “First swear to me”; so he swore to him, and sold his birthright to Jacob.
Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew; and he ate and drank, and rose and went on his way.
Thus Esau despised his birthright.

Esau trades the eternal for the immediate. He gives up the birthright — the inheritance, the blessing, the covenant promises of God — for something he can’t even properly name. He just calls it “that red stuff.” You know… “That stuff that’s red over there. Whatever it is. I don’t care. Just give it to me.”

This is exactly what sin is. It’s the best definition there is.

Because that’s what sin does. It lures us in. It convinces us we must have it — “or we will die.” It preys on our hunger, our weakness, our desperation. And in that moment, we ignore the worth of what we already have.

The trade always looks necessary. But afterward, the truth hits us: We exchanged everything for nothing.

Sin is a worthless choice. It is rejecting that which God has offered us — the potential that God sees in us — for something worthless.

A Father-Son Illustration

Let me give you a father-son illustration.

A father walks into his son’s room and finds him glued to a screen, locked into the latest game that everyone is playing. He calls to him:

“Hey, want to have a Bible study?” “No.”
“Want to go hiking with your friends?” “No.”
“Want to read a book?” “No.”
“Want to grab a bite to eat with me?” “No.”
“Want to work out, play basketball, go hunting or fishing, or just hang out with me for a little bit?” “No.”

Anything the father suggests — anything better, anything deeper, anything more meaningful — gets the same answer. The boy is locked in, eyes on the screen, oblivious to what he’s passing up.

And the father knows. He knows what his son is passing up. He knows what they could have shared. He knows the memories they could have built. He knows the laughter, the connection, the growth that was waiting right there.

It’s not rebellion. It’s not hatred. But it still stings.

Because when you love someone, you ache for the good things you know they’re missing.

And in that moment, I see something bigger — something deeper.

Because I believe that’s exactly how God sees us.

God created us for something great. He created us to share in His very self — to bear His image, to reflect His character, to participate in His mission. He made us for glory, not boredom; for communion, not escape; for joy, not distraction.

He made us to receive grace upon grace and to walk in the purpose He laid out before time began.

This is the time for some verses to drive this in:

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10)

“You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” (Psalm 16:11)

“He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32)

He created us because He is abundant life. He knows what it offers, and He is excited about it — and can’t wait (relatively speaking for God!) to share it with His children. Just like a parent looks at their young infant and says, “I can’t wait to show you what is out there.” You don’t think of the worst stuff to share, but the best.

But every time we sin, we make a worthless choice. We throw that away. We walk right past it. We say, “No thanks.”

We take all that greatness — the eternal value, the calling, the glory He longs to share with us — and we trade it.

We trade it for something that feels easier, lighter, safer. We say, “I’d rather have this… this stuff… that happens to be red.”

And God, like a Father, watches with a grieving heart. Not because we’ve broken some abstract rule — but because we’ve rejected Him. We’ve walked away from what could have been.

My Own Red Stuff

Why did Esau make that trade? I would like to say I don’t get it — but I do. I’m as good as anyone (maybe better) at exchanging a birthright for anything red.

There was a season when God had clearly blessed my ministry. The Credo House was growing. The Credo House Coffee Shop — a dream I had prayed for and longed for — had finally become a reality.

I still remember sitting in seminary, in a church history class, thinking, “God, let me introduce everyone to this. Let me show them the treasures I’m discovering.” It felt like I had found gold buried in a field, and all I wanted to do was share it with the world. I had a direction. I had a calling. And for a while, the fruit was beginning to show.

But then life got heavy. It wasn’t just ministry struggles. It was deeper than that — harder than that. Family tragedies. A body that began to fail, especially my back. An overwhelming sense that everything was unraveling faster than I could fix it.

And that’s when I made a worthless choice.

I turned to pain pills.

At first, the pills were about the pain. My back hurt — bad. And the pills worked. But they didn’t just numb the pain in my body. They numbed the ache in my soul too. On the pills, life didn’t feel so heavy anymore. The pressure, the fear, the sadness — it all faded, even if just for a little while. For the first time in a long time, I could breathe.

It wasn’t just physical relief. It was emotional relief. Spiritual relief.

The pills whispered promises to me — quiet promises I didn’t even realize I was listening to:

• “You’re okay now.”
• “You can handle it.”
• “You don’t have to feel all of that anymore.”

And for a while, I believed them.

I wasn’t chasing a high. I wasn’t trying to rebel against God. I was just tired. Tired of hurting. Tired of hoping. Tired of feeling like I was drowning while trying to serve.

The pills made it all feel manageable again — like survival was possible.

But it was survival without trust. Relief without restoration. A shortcut that led nowhere. They offered me peace. But it was peace without a foundation. Counterfeit peace — red stuff that looked good in the moment but left me emptier in the end.

I knew what God had laid out in front of me. I knew the birthright He had given — the calling, the mission, the purpose. But I traded it.

I traded it for red stuff. For survival over trust. For counterfeit comfort over real life.

And just like Esau, I learned the truth too late:

We exchanged everything for nothing.

“They exchanged the truth of God for a lie.” (Romans 1:25)

What’s Your Red Stuff: Everyone’s Got Their Own

I hate to introduce one more illustration, but I think this is one everybody can understand.

Sin isn’t just a worthless choice. It isn’t just “red stuff.” It’s also like spiritual impulse buying.

You know the feeling. You’re walking through the store. You see something you don’t need, something you didn’t plan for — but it calls to you. You put it in your cart anyway. Maybe it’s comfort. Maybe it’s convenience. Maybe it’s just the feeling that you deserve it. But deep down, you know it’s a bad decision. And sure enough, the second you buy it, the regret sets in.

Buyer’s remorse.

We all know what that feels like. And when we live according to our sin, it’s like living inside of buyer’s remorse — justifying it, pretending it was a good choice, even while deep down we know it wasn’t.

Sin promises comfort, but it delivers emptiness. It promises relief, but it leaves us with regret. It’s spiritual impulse buying at its worst.

We’ve all got it. Something in our cart we don’t need. Something we grabbed without thinking. It’s sitting there — making promises, taking up space, and dragging us away from the better things.

What is it for you?

• A moment of lust when no one’s watching?
• The scroll that never ends?
• The shot that will make you forget?
• The grudge you love to hang on to?
• The dress that will make everyone love you?
• The explosive outburst that relieves your anger?
• The comfort you reach for instead of God?

We all have our “red stuff.” And here’s the truth: God knows. He sees it.

When the Red Stuff Turns to Hate

At the end of the narrative, it says these haunting words — words that are easily missed:

“Thus Esau despised his birthright.”

That’s what happens when we choose the red stuff often enough. When we keep trading what we were made for in exchange for what we were never meant for, we don’t just prefer the lesser thing. Eventually, we begin to — not just not prefer — but to hate the greater thing.

Let me repeat for emphasis: Not just avoid it. Not just say, “That’s not for me.” But absolutely despise it.

Why? Because guilt reshapes our hearts. When we know deep down that we’ve pawned something good — when we’ve numbed ourselves as citizens of the land of worthless choices — the only defense we have left is to turn against the good.

We see it in someone else’s cart, and we laugh. We see others walking in it, and we scoff. We see truth, and we flinch. We see beauty, and we vomit.

That’s what guilt does when it isn’t healed — it turns reverence into resentment.

God is Always Ready to Buy You Back: The Time is Now

Are you at that point?

Even if you are, God can still bring you back. Even if you’ve traded your birthright a million times, even if you’re covered in red stuff — the grace of God, through what Christ did for you on the cross, still stands.

Let me introduce you to my favorite Red Stuff verse in the Bible:

“He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” (2 Corinthians 5:21, NASB)

And now, if you’ll allow me a little creative license — here’s how I imagine it in the New Michael Standard Version (NMSV):

“He made Christ — who never bought any red stuff, who always chose what was right, who never traded the birthright — to take the red stuff that’s all over you and put it on Himself, so that it might be as if you never had any red stuff at all. And then, He put the birthright back in your cart.” (2 Corinthians 5:21, NMSV)

He hung on a cross to pay a steep price for your sin — for all your worthless choices. And His resurrection proves that the deal is sealed. Your Father stands ready, arms open, for you to trade it all back.

Just give it to Christ.

“In him we have bought back through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace.” (Ephesians 1:7)

“Return to me, for I have redeemed you.” (Isaiah 44:22)

The German Office for the Protection of the Constitution has classified the “Alternative for Germany” (AfD) as “confirmed right-wing extremist,” and the other parties are united in the view that there can be no cooperation with the AfD — the so-called firewall (Brandmauer).

One may assess the usefulness of this “firewall” however one wishes, but it is rather odd when U.S. politicians like  Vice President J. D. Vance or Secretary of State Marco Rubio accuse Germany of lacking democracy and restricting freedom of the press and opinion because of it — while their boss, President Trump, has for months been openly musing about silencing media outlets, journalists, and politicians he deems objectionable with the help of a judiciary increasingly subservient to him.

The fact is that the AfD addresses issues that are close to the hearts of — or urgently concern — a growing share of voters. The “firewall” and blanket condemnation as right-wing extremist, without engaging with the real problems the AfD brings up, will inevitably strengthen the AfD — until, in some future election, the firewall will no longer be able to contain the flames of voter anger.

Incidentally, the same goes for how the Kickl-FPÖ is being handled here in Austria.

If the new German government, just like our black-red-pink coalition here, fails to visibly and effectively address the concerns and issues of AfD and FPÖ voters, then Germany and Austria are both heading — sooner or later — toward an absolute majority for the AfD or FPÖ. And it’s quite irrelevant how important one considers these concerns or how realistic one thinks the public’s worries are. In a democracy, it’s not only the concerns of various elites that count.

I am currently reading Leonkadia (Lorraine) Justman’s account 1) about her time in the ghettos of various Polish cities, her escape to Innsbruck, and her further life in the “Third Reich.”

I was particularly moved by this passage about Janusz Korczak, a Polish military and pediatric doctor, children’s book author, and educator who ran an orphanage in Warsaw and moved with it into the ghetto:

Janusz Korczak was a bachelor who had lovingly devoted himself to the orphans of Warsaw for years. He wrote for and about them; he played with them and fulfilled their every wish. He was their everything, and they were his one and greatest love. When a friend offered him safe refuge within his four walls, he declined. He did not want to be separated from his children and accompanied them into the ghetto to share their fate and ease their lives. No one who met these lively little beings would have thought they were orphans. Their sunny disposition, their love of music, and their many interests were proof of the cheerful atmosphere in which they were raised. Surrounded by his charges, one could easily have mistaken Janusz Korczak for their devoted father.

Janusz Korczak’s orphanage in the Warsaw Ghetto, Chłodna Street 33

“It’s quite warm today,” he remarked… “Summer is striving toward God. Hopefully, the next year will embrace us just as warmly so that I can take my little darlings out into nature. Into the green forests, to the golden fields, onto the colorful meadows. To show them the beauty of God reflected in the brook or river.”

“That will be great!” exclaimed the freckled Henryk. “Then we’ll walk along the railway tracks, far, far away from the ghetto to the land of true happiness.” Henryk was a dreamer and loved inventing stories about a beautiful future. But wasn’t that precisely what was needed in these times, when the present was so terrifying and hopeless? Lewin cleared his throat. “Let us pray for this great day of peace,” he added with the pathos of a preacher. “It will bring the end of the war and the end of all cruelty, for all of us.”

“Peace…” Janusz Korczak’s blue-gray eyes gleamed with the radiance of youth. “That will be a great, great day!”

Janusz Korczak had not the slightest idea what would happen a year later. He could not foresee that he and his children would then be transported in dark, stifling cattle cars into the unknown. He could not know that he would use the same words about the beauty of nature—the tall trees, the clear rivers and streams—to comfort his frightened charges, whose fate he shared to the very end. How could he ever have imagined that exactly one year later, instead of great freedom, the great gate to the land of horror and death would be waiting—the diabolical, inhuman machinery of deranged minds—the land of the gas chambers of Treblinka?

Janusz Korczak was murdered with the entire population of the orphanage when it was sent to the Treblinka extermination camp during the Grossaktion Warschau of 1942.

1. Leonkadia Justman’s survival story was turned into a book as part of a project at the University of Innsbruck and is available both as a hardcover book and as an eBook: Brechen wir aus!: Als polnische Jüdin auf der Flucht in Tirol. Eine autobiografische Überlebensgeschichte (Let’s Break Out!: A Polish Jewish Woman on the Run in Tyrol. An Autobiographical Survival Story. A briefer earlier version is available in English, as hardcover only: In Quest for Life: Ave Pax [↩]

I do not understand people who can say with a straight face,

“Should we throw the first stone at Putin when almost everything that the West did was also morally wrong.”