Understanding Paul's Statement in Philippians 3

Paul rejects his own "righteousness" (perfection) based on law-keeping (Philippians 3:9). His former "perfection" was a legalistic, external one.

He desires a righteousness that comes through faith in Christ.

His goal is to know Christ intimately—to share in His sufferings and resurrection (Philippians 3:10-11).

He explicitly states he has not already obtained all this or been made perfect (Philippians 3:12).

His response is to press on, strain forward, and pursue the calling of God in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:12-14).

Paul is talking about moral and spiritual perfection in his relationship with Christ. He is on a lifelong journey of sanctification, becoming more like Jesus. This is a process.

The "Perfect Manuscripts" vs. The Perfect Goal

Paul was inspired by the Holy Spirit to write his letters, which became Scripture. The original documents (autographs) are considered inerrant in their teaching.

However, Paul himself would not have thought of his own handwritten letters as the final, complete "Perfect Bible." He was writing to specific churches for specific reasons. The canon of the New Testament wasn't finalized until centuries later.

More importantly, even holding the very words of God, Paul's own personal, existential journey was not yet complete. He had the perfect revelation, but he was still in the process of internalizing and living out its ultimate purpose: union with Christ.

Application to Bible Translation: What Should We Do?

1. We Should Absolutely Continue the Translation Work

To stop translating would be like Paul deciding to stop pursuing Christ because he hadn't reached him yet. The Great Commission (Matthew 28:19-20) inherently involves teaching, which requires communicating God's Word in a language people understand. This is an ongoing, essential mission for the church.

2. We Must Embrace a "Press On" Mentality in Scholarship

Paul's attitude is a model for translators and scholars:

We don't have the original manuscripts. We have thousands of incredibly reliable copies, but textual criticism is the science of comparing them to get as close as possible to the original text. This is a field where we continually "press on" as new discoveries are made and scholarship deepens.

Languages evolve. The English of the King James Version (1611) is not the English of today. New translations are necessary not because God's truth changes, but because our language does. We "press on" to make the Word clear for each new generation.

Understanding deepens. Archaeological discoveries, historical studies, and linguistic analysis give us fresh insights into the biblical world. This allows for more precise and nuanced translations. We "press on" in our learning.

3. We Pursue "Perfection" as a Goal, Not a Claim

Just as Paul pursued a perfection he knew he wouldn't fully attain in this life, we pursue the goal of the "perfect" translation—one that is perfectly faithful to the original meaning and perfectly clear to the modern reader—while knowing that no single human translation can fully capture the infinite depth of God's Word.

This humility prevents us from idolizing one particular translation (KJV-Onlyism).

It encourages us to use multiple translations for study.

It drives ongoing revision and new translation projects.

Conclusion: A Dynamic, Faithful Pursuit

So, what should we do? We should do exactly what the Apostle Paul did:

Be Grounded in What We Have: We have a Bible that is profoundly reliable and fully sufficient for salvation and for teaching us how to live (2 Timothy 3:16-17). We hold fast to it in faith.

Be Humble in Our Approach: We acknowledge that our understanding and our translations are part of a journey. We don't have all the answers, but we have the Holy Spirit to guide us.

Be Driven to Press On: We continue to translate, to learn, to study, and to refine our work. We do this so that more people can know Christ and, like Paul, "press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me."

The work of Bible translation is not a sign of doubt in God's Word; it is an act of faith and obedience, a dynamic pursuit that mirrors the Christian's own journey toward the perfect knowledge of God. We translate because we believe God's Word is living and active (Hebrews 4:12) and deserves to be communicated with as much clarity and accuracy as each generation can muster.

A translation isn’t a fossil; it’s a bridge. Languages shift; idioms slide around; cultures change their mental furniture. Every generation inherits Scripture, but it also has to re-voice Scripture so its power is heard without distortion. That re-voicing takes care, humility, hard work, and the willingness to admit we haven’t reached perfection.

There’s a danger if we stop. If translation work freezes, the text becomes distant and the living edges of meaning dull. Precision in ancient Hebrew poetry, nuance in Greek verbal aspect, and the thunderclap metaphors of the prophets can go blurry in a language that’s changed underneath them.

Paul’s pursuit of Christ wasn’t about chasing some sterile technical ideal. It was about aligning himself with the truth he proclaimed. Translators follow that same ethos: we keep refining, keep wrestling with idiom and syntax, keep comparing manuscripts, keep sharpening accuracy, because our understanding of languages and texts grows. The goal isn’t perfection in the sense of flawlessness; it’s faithfulness in the sense of “pressing on.”

Translation continues. Not because earlier work was bad, but because we’re walking the same road Paul walked: learning, adjusting, striving toward clearer expression of what is ultimately inexhaustible. In that sense, every new translation is part of the long pursuit of understanding, and each generation gets to take its turn in the relay.

Languages and Tongues in the End Time According to the Book of Revelation

The Book of Revelation repeatedly emphasizes the global, multilingual, and multicultural scope of God’s redemptive work. Rather than portraying the end time as a collapse of human diversity into a single earthly language, Revelation highlights redeemed unity within diversity—a harmony created by worship, not by linguistic uniformity. The book uses the recurring phrase “every nation, tribe, tongue, and people” to describe the gathered people of God (Revelation 5:9; 7:9; 14:6), demonstrating that linguistic and ethnic variety is not erased but brought together under the sovereignty of the Lamb.

A central scene occurs in Revelation 7:9–10, where John describes a great multitude standing before the throne. This multitude comes “from all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues,” yet they cry out with “a loud voice” declaring salvation. The passage does not depict these worshipers as speaking one earthly language; instead, they are united in one proclamation of praise. The emphasis is not on sameness of speech but on unity of worship and allegiance.

Revelation 5:9 reinforces this vision. The Lamb is praised because He has redeemed people “out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation.” The language suggests that diversity is preserved and valued. The redeemed are not absorbed into a single cultural or linguistic identity; rather, their differences magnify the scope of God’s salvation.

Revelation 14:6 introduces an angel who proclaims the everlasting gospel “to every nation, tribe, tongue, and people.” This universal address assumes linguistic plurality even in the final stages of history. The angel’s message reaches humanity as it is—diverse and scattered across many languages—indicating that God’s final call is not delivered through a single human language imposed upon all, but through a message capable of reaching each people group where they stand.

These passages give no indication that the church will be unified through one earthly language in the end time. Revelation never suggests a return to a Babel-like uniformity. Instead, it depicts redeemed humanity joined together by worship, faithfulness, and the lordship of Christ, not by linguistic conformity. The unity Revelation offers is theological and spiritual, not linguistic.

For the same reason, there is no biblical support for the idea that heaven will be unified by a single Bible version such as the King James Version. The Bible as we have it is a collection of texts originally written in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek. The book of Revelation itself was written in Greek, not in English. The authority of Scripture rests not on one human translation but on the inspired message God gave through His prophets and apostles. No verse in Revelation suggests that a single translation—ancient or modern—will serve as the heavenly standard.

Even when Revelation depicts unified heavenly speech, such as the worship in Revelation 7:10 and 19:1–6, these scenes convey a common proclamation rather than the erasure of linguistic variety. The emphasis is on shared truth, not shared grammar. The heavenly assembly is united because they proclaim the same Lord, not because they use the same human language.

Conclusion

The Book of Revelation presents a vision of the end time in which redeemed humanity is global, multilingual, and richly diverse. The unity of heaven is shaped by worship and allegiance to the Lamb, not by the adoption of one earthly language or one translation of Scripture. In the presence of God, the barriers of language do not limit fellowship, but Revelation offers no suggestion that heaven is bound to English or to any single human tongue. Instead, the redeemed stand together as many nations and many languages, unified not by speech but by glory given to God.

Spiritual Adultery in Church Leadership

The relationship between Christ and the Church has long been expressed through the imagery of covenantal marriage. Within this framework, Christ stands as the faithful bridegroom, and the Church is the bride called to fidelity, devotion, and truth. When leaders within the Church abandon this covenantal loyalty in favor of false teachings, personal agendas, or doctrines of their own invention, Scripture identifies this behavior as a form of spiritual adultery. It is not merely error; it is betrayal. It fractures trust and distorts the witness of the Church in the world.

Spiritual adultery occurs when those entrusted with stewardship of the gospel exchange their commitment to Christ’s truth for alternative loyalties. False doctrine becomes a seductive partner, drawing leaders away from the clarity and discipline of the Word. When personal views overshadow the teachings of Christ, the leader’s authority shifts from shepherd to self-appointed prophet. Their platform becomes the mistress they attend to, while the true bride—the Church—suffers neglect. This departure from fidelity weakens spiritual discernment within congregations and creates confusion where there should be unity.

The consequences are not confined to abstract theology. Congregations destabilize. Communities lose confidence in spiritual leadership. Faith that should be nourished becomes strained. When leaders begin “requesting divorces”—figuratively distancing themselves from the historic faith, from Christ-centered doctrine, or even from the responsibilities of ministry—they model abandonment rather than steadfast love. Their actions imply that the covenant is optional, something that can be broken when inconvenient or insufficiently flattering to personal desires.

Spiritual adultery is a grave sin because it harms both the offender and the people under their care. Scripture consistently warns that those who lead others astray bear heavier accountability. The calling of leadership is not merely to instruct but to embody fidelity. To misrepresent Christ’s teaching is to misrepresent Christ Himself, and to misuse authority in this way violates the trust placed in leaders by God and community alike.

Restoration is possible, but it requires honesty. Leaders must confront the “mistresses” they have embraced—whether intellectual pride, cultural trends, personal ambition, or teachings that promise influence rather than truth. Repentance involves returning to the covenantal center: the authority of Christ, the integrity of Scripture, and the humility required of every servant. The Church, too, must discern and uphold leaders who demonstrate faithfulness rather than charisma alone.

Spiritual fidelity is not an optional virtue for ministry; it is the foundation. When leaders honor their covenant with Christ and His Church, they strengthen the community’s witness, deepen its unity, and reflect the love that defines the gospel itself. Turning away from spiritual adultery is ultimately a return to the truth that the Church belongs to Christ, and no rival allegiance can coexist with that sacred bond.

You have no right to retain mistresses like Miss VPP, Miss Perfect TR, and Miss KJVONLY.

An Unshakable Foundation: Finding Faith When the Church Falters

Acknowledging the Pain

"To the young faithful who have witnessed the unthinkable: a church divided, leaders straying, and teachings twisted. The ground you thought was solid has shaken. The pain you feel is real and valid. It is the pain of a family breaking apart. But I am here to tell you that our faith was never meant to be built on the perfection of a building, an institution, or even its leaders. It is built on the person of Jesus Christ, and He remains the same, yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8)."

Look to Christ, Not to People

The Reality of False Teachers: The Bible never promises that every leader will be faithful. In fact, it warns us repeatedly.

Matthew 7:15: “Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves.” Jesus Himself warned that not everyone who appears godly is.

Acts 20:29-30: “I know that after I leave, savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock. Even from your own number men will arise and distort the truth in order to draw away disciples after them.” This shows that division and false teaching can, and will, arise even from within.

The Unchanging Cornerstone: Our hope is not in a flawless pastor, but a flawless Savior.

1 Peter 2:4-6: “As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him—you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house… For in Scripture it says: ‘See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.’” When human-built structures crumble, the Cornerstone stands firm.

Ground Yourself in the True Gospel

The Standard is Scripture Alone: Teach people to be like the Bereans, who checked even the Apostle Paul's words against the ultimate authority.

Acts 17:11: “Now the Berean Jews were of more noble character than those in Thessalonica, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.” This is their model: to test all teachings against the Bible.

The Core of the Gospel: Clearly define what cannot be compromised.

1 Corinthians 15:3-4: “For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures.” This is the "of first importance" message. Any teaching that diminishes Christ's atoning death and literal resurrection is a false gospel.

Galatians 1:6-8: “I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you to live in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel— which is really no gospel at all... But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let them be under God’s curse!” Paul’s strong language shows how seriously God takes the purity of the Gospel.

Pursue Godly Wisdom and Discernment

Testing the Spirits: We are not called to be naive, but discerning.

1 John 4:1: “Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.”

Matthew 7:16-20: “By their fruit you will recognize them... Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit.” The "fruit" includes the character of the leaders (love, joy, peace, patience, etc.) and the outcome of their teaching (unity or division, freedom or control, life or condemnation).

Embody the True Church Through Love and Forgiveness

In the midst of division, the world is watching. How you respond is a powerful testimony.

The Call to Unity and Love: The answer to bad theology is not no theology; the answer to a divided church is not no church, but a church built on love.

John 13:35: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” Your love for fellow believers—even those you disagree with—is the ultimate mark of authenticity.

Ephesians 4:2-3: “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.”

The Difficult Command to Forgive: Holding onto bitterness will poison our own faith.

Colossians 3:13: “Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” This does not mean ignoring wrongs or trusting unrepentant leaders, but it means releasing the debt to God so they can be free.

Conclusion: A Call to Be a "Living Stone"

“My dear young friends, what you have witnessed is a tragedy. But God is a redeemer. He can use even this pain to deepen your faith, to wean you off dependency on human institutions and plant you firmly on the Rock, who is Christ.

You have seen what happens when the foundation is sand. Now, I call you to be part of building something new—not necessarily a new building, but a truer, more authentic community. Be a ‘living stone’ (1 Peter 2:5). Be one who clings to Scripture, loves deeply, forgives radically, and points unwaveringly to Jesus.

The church you knew may have split, but the true Church—the global body of all who trust in Christ—stands strong. Find your place in it. Your faith, tested by fire, can emerge purer and stronger than ever before.

‘And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith.’ (1 John 5:4)’”

Bullying in the FE-BC and B-PC

by someone who has lived it, endured it, and refuses to stay silent about it

Bullying in the fundamental church does not always shout. Sometimes it dresses itself in suits, hides behind pulpits, and calls itself “defending the faith.” That façade makes the wounds deeper, because the people causing them believe their actions are righteous. I have been on the receiving end of that harm, and the experience has forced me to confront a truth many are afraid to say aloud: when power is abused, when conscience is coerced, and when threats replace conversations, the behavior is not discipline. It is bullying.

The first form of bullying I witnessed came from leaders who demanded allegiance to their own personal theories—ideas like no tongues speaking, no wine drinking, Verbal Plenary Preservation, KJV-Onlyism, and the claim that the Textus Receptus is perfect in every letter. These are not minor differences of opinion; they are elevated to dogma by a small circle of men who insist that their interpretations are the only faithful ones. Disagreement is treated not as an intellectual difference but as moral rebellion. When pastors or students do not subscribe to these doctrines, leaders threaten to withdraw financial support, positions, or ministry opportunities. That is coercion. If a belief must be maintained through fear, it is not conviction—it is control.

Refusing to accept these teachings is not disobedience. It is the right of every Christian, and especially every pastor or scholar, to examine evidence, seek truth, and follow conscience. The church has a long history of debate on textual issues, and responsible Christians have reached different conclusions for centuries. To act as though one narrow view represents the entire Christian tradition is intellectually dishonest and historically inaccurate. Calling such forced conformity “church dignity” does not sanitize it.

Another layer of bullying appears in how pastors and teachers are treated when they dissent. I watched capable, sincere leaders slowly pushed out of churches and Bible colleges because they could no longer pretend to believe what a few powerful voices demanded. Some left under pressure; others were driven out openly. The common thread was misery—men and women doing ministry with constant anxiety because any hint of disagreement could cost their livelihood. When leadership uses its authority to punish honest theological exploration, it destroys the very learning environment a Bible college is supposed to foster.

What happened to Bible college students might be the clearest example of all. Students failed final exams not because their work lacked scholarship, but because their conclusions did not align with the “right” doctrines. Theses were rejected not for poor argumentation but for showing independent thought. Some students reached graduation only to find they would not receive certification because they had not bowed to the preferred textual theory. Years of work, sacrifice, and ministry training were erased at a stroke. This is not education. It is indoctrination enforced through intimidation.

When fundamentalist leaders defend these actions by calling them Christian discipline or protecting the church’s testimony, they misunderstand what both of those terms actually mean. Christian discipline is restorative, patient, and aimed at guiding someone back to spiritual health. What we experienced was punitive, coercive, and designed to silence. Church dignity is upheld by integrity, humility, and truth—not by using authority to suppress honest disagreement. Protecting the church should never require harming the people God has entrusted to it.

What makes this bullying so painful is that it hides behind holiness. The perpetrators are convinced they are champions of purity. But purity built on fear is not righteousness. Unity built on intimidation is not fellowship. And orthodoxy enforced at the expense of human dignity is not a mark of faithfulness—it is a sign that fear, not truth, is steering the ship.

I write this as someone who has walked through this fire. I write it because the silence surrounding these abuses is suffocating. Many who have been harmed still doubt their own experience, told repeatedly that what they endured was “discipline” or “defense of the faith.” It was not. Naming the harm is the first step toward healing and toward building a church that does not confuse certainty with Christlikeness.

The church and bible college should be a place where questions are not punished, where scholarship is not policed by fear, and where authority is not used to crush those who seek truth in good conscience. Confronting these patterns is not an attack on the church and bible college—it is an attempt to save it from the very behavior that drives people away in silence.

Byzantine, Alexandrian, Western, Caesarean

When someone tries to argue that “verbal plenary preservation” (VPP) only works if you stick to the Byzantine or TR tradition, they’re basically trying to build a skyscraper on a single support beam. The whole structure wobbles because the premise is selective, historically fragile, and text-critically inconsistent.

VPP, in its strict form, claims that God preserved every single word He inspired, perfectly, in a particular textual tradition. The moment someone says, “And that tradition is exclusively the Byzantine or the TR,” they’ve slipped from theology into special pleading. They’re narrowing divine preservation to a single human stream of textual transmission without any legitimate scriptural warrant. Scripture speaks of God preserving His word; it never assigns that preservation to one manuscript family or one editorial tradition.

Once you look at the manuscript evidence, the claim collapses further. Every manuscript tradition—Byzantine, Alexandrian, Western, Caesarean—shows the same basic reality: wide agreement on the core of the New Testament and a scattering of small variations that arise precisely because these texts were copied, handled, and transmitted by communities spread across centuries and continents. The Alexandrian tradition is no exception; it is simply another witness in this diverse ecosystem. If your theology insists that divine preservation guarantees absolute perfection in one transmission stream, that same theology should be able to account for preservation in any stream. Limiting it to the Byzantine or TR betrays the claim’s own logic.

The real kicker is that if the defenders of TR-only or Byzantine-only VPP applied their criteria consistently, they’d have to acknowledge that the Alexandrian manuscripts often preserve earlier readings. Earlier doesn’t automatically mean truer—textual criticism is not a game of archaeology alone—but it does mean the Alexandrian tradition can’t be theologically disqualified without simultaneously disqualifying the claim of preservation itself. You can't say, “God preserved every word perfectly” while dismissing manuscripts that sometimes represent our earliest accessible layer of the text.

What’s really going on is a category error. VPP, when used as a weapon to defend one manuscript family over another, mutates from a theological affirmation about God’s faithfulness into a rhetorical shield for a preferred tradition. That kind of move ignores history, ignores manuscript reality, and ends up weakening the doctrine it tries to protect. If preservation means anything meaningful, it means that God preserved His word through the multiplicity of manuscripts—not by funneling His promise exclusively through one editorial tradition produced more than a thousand years after the apostles.

So the refutation is simple. If you insist that VPP is true, you must allow its implications to run across all streams of transmission. If you restrict it to one tradition, you’ve already abandoned VPP and replaced it with a human preference dressed up as a doctrine. A preservation doctrine that only works in one corner of manuscript history isn’t preservation at all—it’s an apologetic patch for a tradition someone wants to protect. A robust view of preservation can deal with the Alexandrian witnesses without fear, and in doing so, it stands on far more stable ground.

Christian Leadership

Ephesians 4:32 in the KJV reads: “And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”

Paul is not throwing out a soft moral lesson. He is making a theological demand rooted in the Gospel itself. God’s forgiveness toward believers becomes the pattern for how believers treat each other—especially those in positions of influence. Christian leadership without kindness, tenderness, and forgiveness is already drifting away from the very message leaders claim to defend.

Paul wrote Ephesians to shape the church into a community that mirrors Christ’s character. The command to “be kind” is tied to a Greek word that carries the sense of being useful, gentle, and gracious. “Tenderhearted” points to a deep inner compassion, not merely politeness. “Forgiving one another” is Paul’s way of saying that no Christian can claim the privilege of nursing grudges. The entire verse lands with a single force: treat each other the way God has treated you.

When leaders sue one another in civil court, Paul’s verse becomes a direct confrontation. Civil litigation between believers is already addressed in 1 Corinthians 6, but Ephesians 4:32 pushes even deeper. A suing spirit cannot coexist with tenderhearted forgiveness. It shows a leadership culture built around turf, pride, or wounded ego rather than Christlike grace. Legal battles might settle property, but they never heal hearts; they simply expose the absence of the Gospel in the relational life of the church.

When they cannot look each other in the eye, it reveals a deeper wound: the relationship has been drained of mercy. Paul expects Christians to reflect a God who looks at forgiven sinners without flinching, without contempt, without storing up old debts. If leaders cannot shake hands or share a simple cup of coffee, it signals that the cross has been reduced to doctrine instead of being allowed to reshape the way they treat one another.

When they fight over Bible versions, legacy, or denominational landmarks, Paul’s command cuts through the noise. Kindness is not the same as compromise, and forgiveness does not erase conviction. But the moment leaders defend truth without embodying mercy, the posture becomes self-defeating. It is possible to fight for a translation and lose the heart of the One the translation points to. It is possible to battle for a legacy and betray the Gospel that legacy was meant to uphold. It is entirely possible to guard a landmark yet abandon the Christ who placed it there.

Paul’s word in Ephesians 4:32 is a summons back to sanity. Christian leadership is not measured by victories, influence, or reputational triumphs but by the ability to treat fellow believers the way God has treated them—graciously, patiently, and sacrificially. A forgiven people who cannot forgive become a contradiction. A leadership culture shaped by conflict instead of kindness becomes a warning sign rather than a witness.

The verse is not asking leaders to pretend differences do not exist. It is calling them to let the Gospel govern how those differences are handled. When leaders return to kindness, tenderheartedness, and forgiveness, it becomes a living demonstration that Christ is not merely confessed—His character is on display. This is the kind of leadership that actually builds the church rather than fracturing it.

God Will Judge the False Teachers

Throughout Scripture, God treats teaching as a sacred responsibility. Words shape convictions, convictions shape lives, and lives ripple outward into families, churches, and whole communities. Because teaching carries such weight, Scripture repeatedly warns that those who distort God’s truth for personal gain, manipulation, or deception will face severe judgment. The Bible is neither vague nor timid on this point: God Himself will deal with false teachers.

False teaching is not merely an intellectual error. It is a spiritual betrayal. In the Old Testament, prophets who spoke their own imaginations instead of God’s word were condemned for leading Israel astray. God accused them of healing the people’s wounds “lightly”—offering comforting illusions in place of truth. Such teachers twisted God’s revelation, blurred the line between righteousness and sin, and exploited spiritual authority for selfish ends. The consequence was devastating: entire generations lost their way. Divine judgment on false prophets was, therefore, not arbitrary but a direct response to the destruction they caused.

The New Testament intensifies this warning. Jesus described false teachers as wolves disguised as harmless sheep. Their danger lies not only in what they say but in how convincingly they present it. They use religious vocabulary, spiritual postures, and respectable appearances, yet their teaching corrodes faith and character. Jesus promised that their hidden corruption will eventually be exposed and judged. God sees what human eyes miss.

The apostle Peter warned that false teachers secretly introduce destructive doctrines, deny core truths about Christ, and use their position for immorality or greed. Peter’s language is firm: their judgment “lingers not.” Paul echoed this urgency when he declared that anyone—whether human or even an angel—who preaches a different gospel places themselves under divine curse. In pastoral letters, Paul urged the church to guard the teaching entrusted to it because shaping the message shapes the destiny of the hearers.

God’s judgment of false teachers is not vengeance but justice. Teaching is powerful. It can lead a person toward life or toward ruin. When leaders distort the Gospel, they misrepresent God’s character, place burdens on believers that God never required, excuse sins that God calls destructive, and undermine the hope found in Christ. Their influence reaches beyond their own lives, affecting many others. Because of this, God holds them strictly accountable.

At the same time, the New Testament encourages believers not to live in fear but in discernment. Scripture calls believers to test teachings, compare them with God’s revealed word, and evaluate their fruit. The existence of false teachers is not a sign that God is absent; it is a sign that spiritual truth matters enough to be counterfeited. God’s ultimate judgment means no false teacher will escape responsibility, even if they thrive temporarily or gain influence in the present moment.

The final word is this: truth is not fragile, and God is not passive. He sees the misuse of spiritual authority, the twisting of doctrine, and the harm done to vulnerable people. The day will come when every hidden motive is exposed, every deceptive word is weighed, and every distortion of the Gospel is answered by the God who values truth, protects His people, and honors the message of Christ.

KJV's editions and revisions

The King James Version has a kind of mythic aura around it, as if it descended fully formed like a thunderbolt. The truth is less mystical and far more interesting. The KJV didn’t arrive perfect, frozen, or unalterable; it went through multiple revisions, and the “KJV” people read today isn’t the 1611 KJV—it’s essentially an 18th-century update wearing 17th-century clothes.

Here’s the reality, straight but friendly.

The original 1611 printing was rushed, full of printer errors, inconsistent spellings, and uneven punctuation. Within just a few years, editors started cleaning it up. From there the text went through a series of revisions that gradually standardized English spelling, grammar, and the underlying Greek and Hebrew scholarship.

The major historical revisions are:

• 1611 — The first edition. Beautiful, influential, and chaotic around the edges.
• 1629 & 1638 (Cambridge revisions) — Early efforts to fix spelling inconsistencies and obvious mistakes in the 1611 edition.
• 1762 (Paris edition) — A more systematic attempt to normalize spelling, punctuation, and italics.
• 1769 (Blayney edition) — The big overhaul. This is the one that essentially created the “modern KJV.” Spelling was standardized (“sonne” became “son,” “hee” became “he”), grammar was cleaned up, and roughly 20,000 minor changes accumulated to make the text usable for contemporary English speakers.

When someone says “I read the 1611 KJV,” they usually mean they’re reading the 1769 Blayney revision. Reading the actual 1611 edition requires the ability to parse archaic letterforms and pre-standardized spelling. The 1769 revision is the real workhorse of English-speaking Protestantism.

The KJV is not perfect and never claimed to be. It reflects the scholarship, linguistic instinct, and available manuscripts of the early 17th century. That world didn’t have access to the thousands of earlier Greek manuscripts discovered in the centuries after. It didn’t have the benefit of modern archaeology, linguistics, or textual criticism. The translators themselves openly admitted the need for revision—because language shifts, knowledge grows, and clarity matters.

English Bibles since then aren’t attempts to overthrow the KJV; they are attempts to translate Scripture faithfully for people who no longer speak the idiom of 1611. The church has always translated Scripture, from Hebrew and Aramaic to Greek, from Greek to Latin, from Latin to German, and on down the centuries. The KJV is part of that long tradition, not the end of it.

A living church needs living language. The Gospel was never meant to be locked in old spellings and obsolete grammar. Translation is part of mission, and mission is part of love. The ongoing work of revising, translating, and clarifying Scripture isn’t betrayal—it’s the church refusing to let the message fossilize.

WHAT IS OUR MISSION?

The earliest Christian writers were obsessed with a single gravitational center: the announcement that Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection reorder reality. When the church asks, “What is our mission?” the New Testament keeps pointing back to that same luminous core. Here are key passages about the Gospel, paired with explanations of how each one frames the church’s calling to preach Christ.

Matthew 28:18–20 — The Great Commission
Jesus tells His disciples that all authority belongs to Him, which turns the act of preaching into an act of allegiance rather than mere instruction. Making disciples means inviting people into a lifetime apprenticeship with Christ—teaching, baptizing, and shaping them around His story.

Mark 1:14–15 — “The time is fulfilled… repent and believe the gospel.”
The Gospel is not treated as optional philosophy; it is an announcement of a new era. The church participates by echoing the same proclamation: God’s reign has arrived in Jesus. Preaching becomes a way of alerting the world that history’s hinge has already turned.

Luke 24:46–48 — “Repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed…”
After the resurrection, Jesus ties His suffering directly to a global mission. Forgiveness is not a small private comfort; it becomes the church’s export to every nation. The church stands as a witness that the crucified Messiah is alive and still at work.

John 20:21 — “As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.”
The mission inherits the shape of Jesus’ own life—truthful, self-giving, and life-producing. Preaching Christ is not shouting from a distance; it’s a sent presence that carries His character into every place.

Acts 1:8 — Powered witness
The Spirit does not come to give the disciples a warm feeling but to empower testimony. The church’s preaching is meant to be saturated with the Spirit’s courage, crossing boundaries from Jerusalem outward in widening circles.

Acts 4:12 — “There is salvation in no one else.”
The boldness of early Christians wasn’t personality; it was conviction that Christ is uniquely able to rescue humanity. This conviction keeps the church from drifting into a vague moral program detached from the Gospel.

Romans 1:16–17 — “The gospel… is the power of God for salvation.”
Paul refuses to treat the Gospel as a slogan. He calls it power—an active force that changes human lives. The church’s mission is not to display its own strength but to unleash this message that reveals God’s righteousness.

1 Corinthians 1:23–24 — “We preach Christ crucified.”
The cross is socially awkward, theologically disruptive, and intellectually scandalous. Yet Paul insists this is the center of the announcement. The church is commissioned to tell the truth about the world’s brokenness and God’s remedy, even when it cuts across human expectations.

2 Corinthians 5:19–20 — “God… entrusted to us the message of reconciliation.”
Preaching is framed as ambassadorial. The church does not invent its message; it carries a declaration on behalf of another. Reconciliation becomes the beating heart of the mission—humans restored to God through Christ.

Galatians 1:8–9 — The seriousness of guarding the gospel
Paul’s sharp tone underlines how vital the original message is. The mission is not only to proclaim the Gospel but to protect it from distortion. Without the real Gospel, the church becomes a hollow institution.

Ephesians 3:8–10 — Making known the “unsearchable riches of Christ”
Paul sees himself as tasked with broadcasting the cosmic scope of Christ’s work. The church becomes a living display of God’s wisdom, revealing a mystery once hidden. Preaching here is portrayed as cosmic theater.

Philippians 1:12–18 — The advance of the gospel even in chains
Paul treats the Gospel as unstoppable. The church’s mission does not collapse under hardship; it often sharpens under pressure. Preaching becomes an act of defiant hope.

Colossians 1:28 — “Him we proclaim…”
The aim is maturity in Christ, not mere conversion. The church’s mission is to present people fully formed in Him—mind, heart, and life aligned to reality as Jesus defines it.

1 Thessalonians 1:5 — The gospel came “not only in word but also in power…”
The Gospel is more than vocabulary. The church announces Christ in a way that carries conviction, integrity, and a transformed community that embodies what it proclaims.

2 Timothy 4:1–2 — “Preach the word… in season and out of season.”
Paul presses Timothy to keep preaching whether the cultural climate is friendly or hostile. The church’s mission is steady, stubborn, and faithful, refusing to adjust the core message to fit passing tastes.

Each of these passages treats the Gospel as a living announcement, not a museum exhibit. The church’s mission flows from that announcement—carrying Christ’s story into the world and letting its power reshape human lives. The beauty is how every generation gets to rediscover this same core and speak it freshly into its own moment.