Join the Rebellion

People choose personal relationships and personal fulfillment over duty. Most often, they place the latter ahead of the former, which is why you see all these ridiculous posts on social media about “toxic relationships.”

It’s a big joke.

I live among people who do not inhabit the same reality as I do.

It used to frustrate me, but now I smile and move on, knowing that most people are not willing to make hard choices. They—and those who enable them—form Caesar’s political base.

The blind leading the blind.

Scripture has taught me, the hard way, that I have no right to judge.

Neither do others, yet we all persist in doing so.

All of you should watch the Star Wars series Andor in full—it’s just two seasons—and then watch Rogue One, and you’ll understand what the writers of the New Testament were doing in the shadows of “empire.”

Unlike the arrogant cowards sitting on the Rebel Council at Yavin IV, the biblical writers weren’t building anything new to replace Rome or Jerusalem. They had no secret plans for a “new” Republic. The gospel was not a hero’s journey or a strategy for institution-building under the protection of a solipsistic Jedi order, nor was it fighting for “freedom.” It was, however, about hope, against all hope.

Rehear Galatians.

The New Testament ends where it begins—with the sword of instruction wandering the earth in God’s broad encampment, moving from place to place with an urgent message of permanent, perpetual rebellion:

“Caesar is not the king!”

Long before Paul, Jeremiah, too, had joined the Rebellion. He understood the price. Jeremiah was not James Dean. You cannot be a rebel unless you have a cause. Unless, of course, you, like most Americans I know, want to remain a teenager for the rest of your life.

Adults, however, have to make a choice:

“Cursed be the day when I was born; Let the day not be blessed when my mother bore me! Cursed be the man who brought the news to my father, saying, ‘A baby boy has been born to you,’ and made him very happy.”
(Jeremiah 20:14-15)

This much I know:

“Everything I do, I do for the Rebellion.”

This week, I discuss Luke 8:28.

Show Notes

ἀνακράζω (anakrazō) / ק-ר-א (qof–resh–aleph) / ق-ر-أ (qāf–rāʾ–hamza)

Cry out. Read aloud.

“When the three units blew the trumpets and broke the pitchers, they held the torches in their left hands and the trumpets in their right hands for blowing, and shouted, ‘A sword for the Lord and for Gideon!’” (Judges 7:20)

Gideon’s story is part of the cyclical narrative structure that characterizes the Book of Judges. In this recurring pattern, Israel turns away from God and does evil, prompting God to give them into the hands of their enemies. In their suffering, the people cry out to God, who then raises up a deliverer—a judge—to rescue them. This deliverance brings a period of temporary peace until the cycle begins again. In the case of Gideon, Israel is oppressed by the Midianites. God chooses Gideon to lead a small and unlikely force, emphasizing that the victory is not the result of human strength but a demonstration of the Lord’s power and faithfulness.

“Then he cried out in my hearing with a loud voice, saying, ‘Come forward, you executioners of the city, each with his weapon of destruction in his hand!’” (Ezekiel 9:1 )

In Ezekiel 8–11, the prophet is shown a vision of the abominations taking place in the Jerusalem temple, including idolatry, injustice, and ritual defilement. As a result of this widespread corruption, the glory of God departs from the temple. In chapter 9, the vision shifts from exposing sin to executing judgment. God summons six angelic executioners, each carry