Nahum - Don't Game Grace

Nahum: Don’t Game Grace

Nahum is the book nobody quotes—but it might be the one we need most. Once spared under Jonah, Nineveh spiraled back into arrogance and violence. This time, there’s no altar call—only judgment. In this powerful message, Pastor Gene unpacks Nahum’s warning that grace is not a loophole and God is not to be mocked. We see how the same Jesus who brings good news in Romans will return in vengeance in Revelation. Nahum reminds us: God is slow to anger—but when the final line is crossed, He won’t strike twice. 
This sermon confronts false gospels, misused grace, spiritual cowardice, and the idol of “nice-only” Christianity. It calls believers to fear the Lord, trust His justice, and stop playing games with mercy. 

Reader's Version

Nahum: Don’t Game Grace 

Sermon by Gene Simco 

Reader’s Version 

 

I heard a story about two college students who were supposed to be preparing for an exam. 

They had an exam early the next morning, but they decided to go out and have a few drinks the night before instead of studying. While at the bar—drinking and talking—one of them said to the other, “We should really get back and study. We really want to be on time for the exam in the morning, and it’s starting to get late.” But the other, who was already a few drinks ahead, convinced him to stay. 

Before they knew it, it was 2 a.m., the bar was closing, and they were stumbling home—rolling in around 3 a.m. They slept through their alarms and arrived late to the exam hall. But when they got there, they gave the professor a very convincing story: “We had to help an elderly woman change a flat tire on the way home.” 

The professor, showing grace, gave them a second chance. He told them they could return the next day at 8 a.m. sharp and take the exam. But this time—no more second chances. 

This time, they took it seriously. They studied, went to bed early, and showed up to the testing center at 7:55 a.m. 

They were led into separate rooms. And when they opened the test booklet, they found it contained only one question: 

“Which tire?” 

Last week, we looked at Micah. Micah called out the corruption inside Israel and Judah—bad kings, bad prophets, bad priests. He shouted at God’s people, “Don’t think you’re safe just because you know His name.” 

Nahum shifts the focus back outward—to Assyria, specifically to Nineveh. But the message still connects: Don’t game God’s grace. He is slow to anger, but He doesn’t play games forever. In Micah, we saw leaders arrogantly saying, “Isn’t the Lord among us? No disaster will come.” And in Nahum, we see exactly what happens when people mistake God’s patience for permission. 

This is another prophetic book aimed at a foreign nation. We’ve seen that before—in Obadiah, with the Edomites, and in Jonah, which was also directed at the Assyrians. Now, Nahum addresses them again—at a different time, and with a different tone. 

Just to get our bearings again, we’re talking about the period of the divided kingdoms—Israel and Judah—after the united kingdom under David and Solomon split in two. Many kings have come and gone by this point. The timeline of Nahum overlaps with the events in Second Kings. In fact, many of these prophetic books can be layered into Second Kings for historical context. 

By the time Nahum is writing, the northern kingdom of Israel is already gone—wiped out by Assyria. That’s recorded in 2 Kings 17. Now we’re somewhere around 2 Kings 20–21. Judah is still standing, but the shadow of Assyria looms large. King Hezekiah in the south had survived Sennacherib’s massive assault—2 Kings 18–19—but only by God’s miraculous intervention. 

Still, Assyria rules the world. Nineveh is rich, arrogant, violent, and unrepentant. Jonah had warned them centuries earlier, and they had repented—for a moment. But clearly, that didn’t last. 

Now Nahum shows up to say: That second chance? You wasted it. Judgment is coming. 

Imagine receiving a letter in the mail. The envelope has a skull stamped on it, and the return address just says: The Lord. You open it, and inside are three short chapters that essentially say: You crossed the line. I gave you grace. You spat in My face. And now I’m coming. 

That’s Nahum. 

If Micah was a warning to God’s people not to trust in their religious status while ignoring justice… 
If Jonah was God’s mercy extended to Nineveh… 
Then Nahum is the final word of justice—the moment when God’s patience expires. 

It’s not just about the fall of Nineveh. It’s about the side of God we like to ignore—the side we push away when we only want comfort without confrontation. Nahum reminds us: don’t game grace. There’s no third chance. God is slow to anger, but He is not soft on sin. Justice may be delayed, but justice is never denied. 

So, let’s hop in and look at the story. 

In Nahum chapter one, we see the vengeance of God. His patience has an expiration date. 

“The Lord is a jealous God, filled with vengeance and rage. 
He takes revenge on all who oppose him 
and continues to rage against his enemies. 
The Lord is slow to get angry, but his power is great, 
and he never lets the guilty go unpunished. 
He displays his power in the whirlwind and the storm. 
The billowing clouds are the dust beneath his feet.” 
(Nahum 1:2–3) 

“Why are you scheming against the Lord? 
He will destroy you with one blow; 
he won’t need to strike twice!” 
(Nahum 1:9) 

“This is what the Lord says concerning the Assyrians in Nineveh: 
‘You will have no more children to carry on your name. 
I will destroy all the idols in the temples of your gods. 
I am preparing your grave, 
for you are despicable!’” 
(Nahum 1:14) 

God’s patience is not weakness—it’s opportunity. Nineveh had their one chance under Jonah and squandered it. Nahum chapter one makes it painfully clear: when grace is mocked, God's next move is not negotiation—it’s judgment. He doesn’t need to strike twice. That’s divine finality. 

In Nahum chapter two, we see the fall of the pretenders. 

“Your enemy is coming to crush you, Nineveh. 
Man the ramparts! 
Watch the roads! 
Prepare your defenses! 
Call out your forces!” 
(Nahum 2:1) 

“I am your enemy!” 
says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies. 
“Your chariots will soon go up in smoke. 
Your young men will be killed in battle. 
Never again will you plunder conquered nations. 
The voices of your proud messengers 
will be heard no more.” 
(Nahum 2:13) 

The God who once spared Nineveh now stands in opposition. The repentance under Jonah had turned into arrogance. “Call out your forces!” becomes divine sarcasm—because there’s no defense against the wrath they themselves invited. When God becomes your enemy, the game is over. 

In Nahum chapter three, we see the exposure of hypocrisy. 

“All this because Nineveh, 
the beautiful and faithless city, 
mistress of deadly charms, 
enticed the nations with her beauty. 
She taught them all her magic, 
enchanting people everywhere. 
‘I am your enemy!’ 
says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies. 
‘And now I will lift your skirts 
and show all the earth your nakedness and shame. 
I will cover you with filth 
and show the world how vile you really are.’” 
(Nahum 3:4–6) 

“There is no healing for your wound; 
your injury is fatal. 
All who hear of your destruction 
will clap their hands with joy. 
Where can anyone be found 
who has not suffered from your continual cruelty?” 
(Nahum 3:19) 

The beautiful and faithless city had used charm and power to seduce nations—spiritual manipulation in full bloom. But God strips away the façade. The wound is fatal. There will be no recovery, no future, and no third chance. Grace exhausted becomes judgment executed. 

Each chapter intensifies the warning. God’s mercy is real, but it’s meant to lead to repentance—not complacency. Nineveh proves that when grace is treated like a game, the whistle eventually blows—and the Judge steps onto the field Himself. 

Nahum is a warning shot—and a final one. If Jonah was the call to repent, Nahum is the result of refusing that call. It’s the moment when grace rejected becomes wrath delivered. 

Let’s be clear: God is slow to anger. But He does get angry. He offers mercy—but He will not be mocked. He relents from punishment—but He does not forget rebellion. 

This is what happens when a people receive the gift of God’s mercy and respond with manipulation and arrogance. Nineveh had its chance—and chose cruelty over compassion, arrogance over humility, power over repentance. And then God said, “I am your enemy.” There was no fourth chapter like Jonah. No altar call. No revival. Just the grave. 

And yet, there’s comfort in this. Not for the wicked—but for the wounded. 

Nahum means comfort—because God’s justice is a refuge for the faithful and a fire for the faithless. 

So how do we see Jesus in the book of Nahum? It starts with the messenger of good news. 

“Look! A messenger is coming over the mountains with good news! 
He is bringing a message of peace. 
Celebrate your festivals, O people of Judah, 
and fulfill all your vows, 
for your wicked enemies will never invade your land again. 
They will be completely destroyed.” 
(Nahum 1:15) 

The good news in Nahum was the fall of Nineveh: peace through judgment. It was a declaration that the oppressor was gone, and the faithful were safe. 

Paul echoes this theme in Romans 10:15, though it's important to note: his quotation is actually from Isaiah 52:7. 

“And how will anyone go and tell them without being sent? 
That is why the Scriptures say, 
‘How beautiful are the feet of messengers who bring good news!’” 
(Romans 10:15, quoting Isaiah 52:7) 

So, the verse Paul uses is not a direct quote from Nahum, but both prophets speak to the same reality: a divine messenger bringing peace, deliverance, and good news. In Nahum, the good news was Nineveh’s destruction. In Isaiah, it was Israel’s restoration. Paul applies that same imagery to the Gospel of Jesus Christ—peace through His own death and resurrection. 

Nahum brings peace after justice. Romans brings peace through Christ absorbing justice. In both cases, God wins, evil falls, and the faithful rejoice. But the battlefield has changed. Jesus took the punishment that should have fallen on us. The sword didn't vanish—it was sheathed in His own body. 

So while Nahum’s peace followed Nineveh’s destruction, the peace of the Gospel comes through Christ’s crucifixion—an even greater victory over sin, death, and Satan. Paul’s citation pulls this forward: the “good news” is still that evil is defeated, but now the death is Jesus’, not yours. The cross becomes the battlefield where justice and mercy meet. 

But that’s only half the story. 

The same Jesus who came to bring peace in Romans is the one who returns with justice in Revelation. Nahum speaks of the vengeance of God—and it’s no metaphor. 

“The Lord is a jealous God, 
filled with vengeance and rage. 
He takes revenge on all who oppose him 
and continues to rage against his enemies. 
The Lord is slow to get angry, but his power is great, 
and he never lets the guilty go unpunished. 
He displays his power in the whirlwind and the storm. 
The billowing clouds are the dust beneath his feet.” 
(Nahum 1:2–3) 

“Who can stand before his fierce anger? 
Who can survive his burning fury? 
His rage blazes forth like fire, 
and the mountains crumble to dust in his presence.” 
(Nahum 1:6) 

Now watch this fulfilled in Revelation 19: 

“Then I saw heaven opened, and a white horse was standing there. 
Its rider was named Faithful and True, 
for he judges fairly and wages a righteous war. 
He wore a robe dipped in blood, and his title was the Word of God. 
From his mouth came a sharp sword to strike down the nations. 
He will rule them with an iron rod. 
He will release the fierce wrath of God, the Almighty, 
like juice flowing from a winepress. 
On his robe at his thigh was written this title: 
King of all kings and Lord of all lords.” 
(Revelation 19:11–16) 

In Nahum, God's wrath is like fire. In Revelation, Jesus rides in with that fire. The vengeance of God has a face—Jesus Christ—and He’s not coming with a sermon. He’s coming with a sword. The robe is dipped in blood. The enemy isn’t Nineveh this time—it’s all who have rejected His kingship. 

This isn’t contradiction. This is completion. 

Jesus came first as a humble messenger with good news. But if that message is mocked, His return won’t be as messenger—it will be as Judge, Warrior, and King. You either receive Him in Romans 10, or face Him in Revelation 19. That’s the Alpha and Omega of Nahum: Peace for the faithful. Vengeance for the fake. 

Nahum forces us to wrestle with three dangerous delusions. 

First, the idea that God always gives second chances. Well—not if you mock His mercy. Nineveh had Jonah. They heard the Word, they repented temporarily, and they were spared. But they returned to evil. Grace is not a guarantee. It’s a gift. And it’s meant to transform, not be exploited. 

Secondly, we must recognize that justice will come swiftly, completely, and finally. Nineveh fell in a flash. Assyria thought it was untouchable. But God only needed one strike. Every empire of evil eventually meets God. So don’t envy power. Don’t fear their platforms. Don’t compromise to gain what they have. It’s all just tinder for the fire. 

The third dangerous delusion is the false gospel of “Nice-Only” Christianity. God is not just love—He is holy. To ignore judgment is to distort the Gospel. Because if there’s no wrath, then there’s no need for a Savior. 

So let’s take a closer look at that first delusion: the belief that God always gives second chances. 

The truth? Not if you mock His mercy. 

Nineveh had their chance during Jonah’s time. They responded to God’s warning with temporary repentance and were spared. But they went back—back to arrogance, back to violence, back to idolatry. And Nahum’s prophecy is God drawing a divine line in the sand: “I am your enemy now.” The same people once spared by mercy are now crushed in judgment. Why? Not because they never had a second chance—but because they wasted it. 

God’s mercy should lead to transformation, not presumption. And Paul warned us of this exact error: 

“Don’t you see how wonderfully kind, tolerant, and patient God is with you? 
Does this mean nothing to you? Can’t you see that His kindness is intended to turn you from your sin? 
But because you are stubborn and refuse to turn from your sin, 
you are storing up terrible punishment for yourself.” 
(Romans 2:4–5) 

God’s kindness is not a loophole. It’s a test of the heart. And if His grace leads to hard-hearted rebellion, judgment isn’t removed—it’s stacked up. 

The writer of Hebrews removes all doubt: 

“Dear friends, if we deliberately continue sinning after we have received knowledge of the truth, 
there is no longer any sacrifice that will cover these sins. 
There is only the terrible expectation of God’s judgment and the raging fire 
that will consume His enemies.” 
(Hebrews 10:26–27) 

This passage directly contradicts the shallow “second chance” theology for the unrepentant. Knowing the truth without responding leads not to comfort, but to terror. 

And Jude? He saw this distortion creeping into the Church: 

“I say this because some ungodly people have wormed their way into your churches, 
saying that God’s marvelous grace allows us to live immoral lives. 
The condemnation of such people was recorded long ago…” 
(Jude 1:4) 

Grace is not permission to sin. It is power to overcome it. When we twist grace into a license for evil, we’re not just misunderstanding God—we’re misrepresenting Him. That’s the heresy Jude was fighting. 

Peter says it even more bluntly: 

“And when people escape from the wickedness of the world 
by knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and then get tangled up and enslaved by sin again, 
they are worse off than before. 
It would be better if they had never known the way to righteousness…” 
(2 Peter 2:20–21) 

That’s Nineveh. That’s people who once escaped judgment but returned to wickedness—and are now in deeper danger than ever. 

Jesus warned about this in a parable that’s often forgotten: 

“A man planted a fig tree in his garden and came again and again 
to see if there was any fruit on it, but he was always disappointed. 
Finally, he said to his gardener, 
‘I’ve waited three years, and there hasn’t been a single fig. Cut it down. It’s just taking up space.’ 
The gardener answered, 
‘Sir, give it one more chance. Leave it another year, 
and I’ll give it special attention and plenty of fertilizer. 
If we get figs next year, fine. If not, then you can cut it down.’” 
(Luke 13:6–9) 

We’ve talked before about the fruit of the Spirit. This connects directly. If we don’t bear fruit—if we don’t change—then the second chance is over. Jesus Himself says that second chances have expiration dates. Patience ends. Judgment begins. 

That’s Nahum’s message in one line: Don’t mistake God's patience for permission. 

The story of Nahum isn’t just about an ancient empire. It’s a mirror for every heart that flirts with grace but refuses obedience. God does give second chances—but He doesn’t owe you a third. 

Grace is not something you bank on while living in rebellion. It’s a gift meant to change you. Jesus did not die to make sin safe. He died to make sinners new. So don’t game the system. Don’t abuse grace. Because you are eligible too. 

Jesus drives this home in Matthew 24–25, within the Olivet Discourse. First, He warns that no one will know the day or hour of His return—and that’s intentional. If we knew exactly when the end would come, many people would be tempted to game grace: “I’ll get serious at the very end.” That’s not faith—that’s presumption. 

Jesus says plainly that only the Father knows, not even the angels, and certainly not us. So every time someone claims to know when the end will happen, they’re contradicting Jesus Himself. Endtimes prediction isn’t just arrogant—it’s faithless. The point isn’t knowing when. The point is being ready. 

That’s why Jesus immediately follows His warning with a series of parables, all centered on readiness. 

He tells of a servant who slacks off while the master is away, assuming he has time. But the master returns unexpectedly and punishes him. Then Jesus gives the parable of the ten bridesmaids—five wise, five foolish. The wise are ready when the groom arrives, lamps full of oil. The foolish ones scramble too late, and the door is shut. The groom says, “I tell you the truth, I don’t know you.” 

Next comes the parable of the talents—three servants entrusted with their master’s wealth. Two invest faithfully. One buries it in fear and laziness. When the master returns, he calls that servant wicked and throws him out. 

The point isn’t financial management—it’s Kingdom stewardship. These parables are bookended by warnings about readiness and judgment. The message is the same: be faithful with what God has given you, because time will run out. 

Then comes the parable of the sheep and the goats—Jesus’ final image of judgment. When He returns, He will divide all people into two groups: those who lived out His love through obedience and those who didn’t. Every person is in that flock. The only question is which side you’ll be on. 

Many people today suffer from what I call a perpetual prodigal problem—they live in rebellion assuming they’ll come home someday, but never do. 

Jesus addressed that mindset, too, in Luke 15. Before the parable of the prodigal son, He tells two others: the shepherd who leaves ninetynine sheep to rescue one, and the woman who loses one coin out of ten and searches until she finds it. Each story ends in joy over what was lost being found. 

Then comes the prodigal son. A young man demands his inheritance early, wastes it all, and ends up feeding pigs. In desperation, he decides to return home, confessing, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and you, and I am no longer worthy of being called your son.” The father runs to meet him, embraces him, and celebrates his return. That’s the image most people stop at—God’s mercy and welcome. 

But that’s not the end of Jesus’ teaching. Remember, the Bible didn’t have chapter breaks for over a thousand years. Jesus keeps speaking. If we stay for the full sermon, we get His conclusion—the parables that follow: the shrewd manager, the rich man and Lazarus. 

The shrewd manager again deals with Kingdom stewardship—being faithful with what belongs to God. And the rich man and Lazarus act as a sobering finale. The rich man lives in comfort, ignoring the poor, while Lazarus suffers at his gate. When both die, Lazarus is carried to Abraham’s side, but the rich man finds himself in torment. 

He begs for water, but Abraham replies that a great chasm separates them. It’s final. Irreversible. The rich man pleads, “Then send someone to warn my brothers!” But he’s told, “They have Moses and the prophets. If they won’t listen to them, they won’t listen even if someone rises from the dead.” 

That’s not coincidence. Jesus was foreshadowing Himself. Even resurrection wouldn’t convince the hardened heart. 

This, then, is the real conclusion to the prodigal story. God welcomes the repentant, yes—but if we treat His grace like a game, there comes a point of no return. 

The second takeaway is that we must recognize justice will come swiftly, completely, and finally. Nineveh fell in a flash. Assyria thought they were indestructible. 

But God needed only one strike. 

Don’t confuse God’s silence with approval. Assyria was a superpower in its day—violent, pagan, economically dominant, politically unmatched. They had already taken the northern kingdom of Israel, humiliated Judah, and stood tall over the known world. So from the outside, it looked like evil was winning. 

But God had already set the countdown. 

Nahum 1:9 says: “Why are you scheming against the Lord? He will destroy you with one blow; he won’t need to strike twice.” 

When God moves, there’s no recovery plan. There’s no rally. There’s no comeback. When grace is exhausted, judgment doesn’t drip—it detonates. 

The New Testament affirms this. 

Galatians 6:7–8: “Don’t be misled—you cannot mock the justice of God. You will always harvest what you plant. Those who live only to satisfy their own sinful nature will harvest decay and death from that sinful nature. But those who live to please the Spirit will harvest everlasting life from the Spirit.” 

That is the exact fate of Nineveh. They planted violence, idolatry, and oppression—so they required exposure and collapse. God is not a passive observer. He is a just Judge. 

Romans 2:5–6: “But because you are stubborn and refuse to turn from your sin, you are storing up terrible punishment for yourself. For a day of anger is coming, when God’s righteous judgment will be revealed. He will judge everyone according to what they have done.” 

God’s justice doesn’t always happen immediately—but it always happens. Every proud oppressor, false teacher, and wicked system is storing up wrath, even if they appear untouchable today. 

2 Peter 2:3, 9: “In their greed they will make up clever lies to get hold of your money. But God condemned them long ago, and their destruction will not be delayed. So you see, the Lord knows how to rescue godly people from their trials, even while keeping the wicked under punishment until the day of final judgment.” 

Evil often flourishes under the mask of success—money, popularity, manipulation. But the final tally belongs to God. Destruction may appear delayed, but it’s not postponed without purpose. 

Revelation 18:8, 10: 
“Therefore, these plagues will overtake her in a single day—death and mourning and famine. She will be completely consumed by fire, for the Lord God who judges her is mighty.” 
“They will stand at a distance, terrified by her great torment. They will cry out, ‘How terrible, how terrible for you, O Babylon, you great city! In a single moment God’s judgment came on you.’” 

Nineveh is a preview of Babylon. Both seemed eternal. Both were destroyed suddenly, completely, and without remedy. What took generations to build came down in just a moment. It’s a preview of Babylon, Rome, or any other power. 

So to us—don’t envy wicked schemes. Just because something is successful doesn’t mean it’s righteous. Assyria was rich, but wicked. Nineveh was feared, but corrupt. So are many systems today. 

Remember: justice will come. 

Don’t fear wicked people—whether it’s a celebrity pastor manipulating the gospel, a political power abusing authority, or a local abuser who seems immune. God sees. And when He moves, He won’t need to strike twice. 

Jesus affirms this in Luke 12:4–5: 
“Dear friends, don’t be afraid of those who want to kill your body; they cannot do any more to you after that. But I’ll tell you whom to fear. Fear God, who has the power to kill you and then throw you into hell. Yes, He’s the one to fear.” 

And don’t assume slow judgment means no judgment. God’s delay is not disinterest—it’s mercy. But when that mercy is mocked, justice comes in full. 

So if you’ve been oppressed—take comfort. God is not slow; He’s strategic. And He has a record of bringing tyrants down in a single blow. 

If you’ve been compromising—wake up. God’s judgment is real. 

If you are in sin—don’t wait for the sword to fall. Flee to Christ, the only One who stood in your place under that judgment. 

That brings us to the next point: 

There’s a false gospel floating around—let’s call it “nice-only Christianity.” It’s the idea that God is only love, never holy, never just. That He never judges. That Jesus is some sort of overly friendly cosmic life coach who just wants to vibe with your lifestyle, no matter what it looks like. 

But that’s not the real Jesus. And it’s definitely not the Gospel. 

To ignore judgment is to distort the Gospel itself. If there’s no wrath, there’s no need for a Savior. If sin isn’t serious, then the Cross is pointless. 

Let’s get this straight—Jesus has always existed. He wasn’t created. He didn’t start at the manger. He was present with the Father from the very beginning. 

“In the beginning the Word already existed. 
The Word was with God, 
and the Word was God. 
He existed in the beginning with God.” 
(John 1:1–2) 

And in Colossians 1, we’re reminded: “Through him God created everything in the heavenly realms and on earth… Everything was created through him and for him. He existed before anything else, and he holds all creation together.” (Colossians 1:16–17) 

Jesus is the Lord in Nahum. He is the second Person of the Trinity. He is the same God who brings both mercy and justice. And He hasn’t changed. 

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” 
(Hebrews 13:8) 

This means we can’t rewrite Him to fit modern preferences. But that’s exactly what many are trying to do. 

Today we have all kinds of counterfeit gospels. One of them is the prosperity gospel—the idea that if you just have enough faith, God will make you healthy, wealthy, and comfortable, no matter what. I’ve addressed that in depth before, so I won’t re-preach the whole message here. But let’s be clear: this idea collapses under the weight of Scripture—especially when you look at Nahum, Job, and Paul. 

Last week, we talked about the political prosperity gospel—this nationalistic idea that God owes prosperity to your country if you just vote the right way. But that doesn’t hold up either. God’s promises are never rooted in human politics or borders. 

But here’s the deeper danger: the fake Jesus being preached in much of modern Christianity doesn’t just distort theology—it deprives people of refinement. It tells them Christ exists to serve them, not to save them—and certainly not to transform them through suffering. This false gospel is found in the prosperity movement, in political idolatry, and in an entire system of thought that promises escape from hardship instead of endurance through it. 

Let’s name one of the roots: dispensationalism. Originally a system to explain redemptive history, it’s now often weaponized to avoid suffering. Many Christians are told they won’t face tribulation, won’t suffer persecution, and won’t have to stand firm when things get hard—because they'll be raptured out before anything truly bad happens. But that theology is not in the teachings of Jesus. It’s in the commentaries. And worse, it’s often marketed like a self-help insurance policy: “Trust Jesus and you won’t suffer.” That’s not the Gospel. That’s just new packaging for the prosperity lie. 

Article on Dispensationalism: 

https://www.biblebelievingchristian.org/post/dispensationalism 

 

Jesus on Tribulation: He Promised It 

In Matthew 24, Jesus says plainly that in the end, "nation will go to war against nation, and kingdom against kingdom... Then you will be arrested, persecuted, and killed. You will be hated all over the world because you are my followers." (Matthew 24:7–9). And who is He speaking to? The elect. He even warns them: “Those who endure to the end will be saved” (Matthew 24:13). 

He never promises removal from the tribulation—He promises endurance through it. 

And the Apostle Paul affirms this. In Romans 5:3–4, Paul writes: “We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation.” In other words, tribulation is the training ground for transformation. If your theology removes suffering, it also removes sanctification. 

Fake Jesus or the Real One? 

The real Jesus said: “In this world you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33). That’s the promise. He overcame, and through Him, we can endure. 

The fake Jesus—the political savior, the prosperity guru, the pre-trib parachute—doesn’t refine you. He sedates you. He tells you God is your genie, not your King. He never tells you to repent. Never tells you to suffer. Never tells you to pick up your cross. And he never actually saves you—because he doesn’t exist. 

The Problem with Political Jesus and Comfort Theology 

This ties in directly with the message from last week: the political gospel offers Jesus as a national hero who came to make your tribe win. But Jesus rebuked that version of the gospel when Peter presented it. After Peter tried to stop Him from going to the cross, Jesus didn’t say, “I understand your concern.” He said, “Get behind me, Satan!” (Matthew 16:23). 

Then He turns not just to Peter—but to the entire crowd—and drops this bomb: 
“If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it.” (Matthew 16:24–25) 

This wasn’t a private correction. This was a public confrontation of the prosperity gospel. Jesus says clearly: You might lose your life. You must deny yourself. You must die to follow Me. 

So here’s the point: If a preacher isn’t telling the audience that following Jesus might cost them everything, he’s not preaching the Gospel. 

But here’s the kicker—in order to sell these fake gospels, you have to sell a fake Jesus. You have to reshape Him into someone easier to market, easier to digest—someone who’s always nice, always accepting, never confrontational, never holy. 

Take the popular show The Chosen, for example. It portrays Jesus in some extreme ways—ways that are soft on sin, hesitant to rebuke, and wildly inaccurate. One of the most egregious examples is the way it mishandles the story in John 8. That’s the scene where Jesus stops the woman from being executed, yes—but we must not forget what He says afterward: 

“Go and sin no more.” 
(John 8:11) 

He draws a hard line. He doesn’t excuse her sin. He confronts it. 

But the show dodges this moment, just like it invents fictional second chances that aren’t found anywhere in Scripture. For instance, it depicts Mary Magdalene relapsing into sin after being healed, only to be rescued again. That second fall is never in the Bible. That second rescue is never in the Bible. That Jesus is not the Jesus of Scripture. That’s the kind of Jesus the enemy wants you to believe in—a counterfeit. 

Article on The Chosen 

https://www.biblebelievingchristian.org/post/the-chosen-why-it-misrepresents-jesus 

 

People defend this by saying, “Well, if it gets people to Jesus, then it’s good, right?” They point to Paul’s words in Philippians where he says: 

“It doesn’t matter whether their motives are false or genuine. The message about Christ is being preached either way, so I rejoice.” 
(Philippians 1:18) 

But they stop reading there. Because Paul does go on. He doesn’t just shrug off false teachers. In fact, he calls them out hard. A few chapters later, he says: 

“Watch out for those dogs, those people who do evil… For I have told you often before, and I say it again with tears in my eyes, that there are many whose conduct shows they are really enemies of the cross of Christ. They are headed for destruction. Their god is their appetite.” 
(Philippians 3:2, 18–19) 

This matters. 

When you introduce someone to a fake Jesus—one that’s always nice and never holy—you create a spiritual trap. People start to believe they’re saved… when they’re not. And that’s the most dangerous kind of deception: false assurance. They think they’ve accepted Christ, but they’re following a version of Him that doesn’t exist. 

The real Jesus? His ministry was offensive. And He told us ours would be too. 

“If the world hates you, remember that it hated me first. 
Since they persecuted me, naturally they will persecute you. 
And if they had listened to me, they would listen to you.” 
(John 15:18, 20) 

Jesus wasn’t soft-spoken. He flipped tables. He called religious leaders “vipers”. He warned whole cities of the wrath to come. His words to the religious elite were cutting: 

“Not everyone who calls out to me, ‘Lord! Lord!’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Only those who actually do the will of my Father in heaven will enter.” 
“On judgment day many will say to me, ‘Lord! Lord! We prophesied in your name and cast out demons in your name…’ But I will reply, ‘I never knew you. Get away from me, you who break God’s laws.’” 
(Matthew 7:21–23) 

And it gets sharper still: 

“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you cross land and sea to make one convert, and then you turn that person into twice the child of hell you yourselves are!” 
(Matthew 23:15) 

“Snakes! Sons of vipers! How will you escape the judgment of hell?” 
(Matthew 23:33) 

“You are like whitewashed tombs—beautiful on the outside but filled on the inside with dead people’s bones and all sorts of impurity.” 
(Matthew 23:27) 

“You are the children of your father the devil… He has always hated the truth… for he is a liar and the father of lies.” 
(John 8:44) 

If the world only finds your preaching “nice,” then you’re not preaching like Jesus. 

And guess what? Paul wasn’t “nice” either. 

He didn’t gently pat the heads of false teachers—he rebuked them with fire. In Galatians, he says: 

“Let God’s curse fall on anyone… who preaches a different kind of Good News.” 
(Galatians 1:8) 

And just to make sure we understand the force of what he’s saying—he literally adds: 

“I wish those troublemakers who want to mutilate you by circumcision would mutilate themselves.” 
(Galatians 5:12) 

That’s not a Hallmark card. That’s a spiritual gut punch. 

And Paul doesn’t reserve this boldness for leaders only. He instructs pastors and elders to rebuke both leaders and people in the church. 

“Imitate me, just as I imitate Christ.” 
(1 Corinthians 11:1) 
“Dear brothers and sisters, pattern your lives after mine.” 
(Philippians 3:17) 

And to Titus, he gives this pastoral charge: 

“You must teach these things and encourage the believers to do them. You have the authority to correct them when necessary, so don’t let anyone disregard what you say.” 
(Titus 2:15) 

Now—before you grab a megaphone and head to the street corner, let’s talk about balance. 

We’re not out to rebuke the world. Not our job. 

Paul says in 1 Corinthians 5: 

“It isn’t my responsibility to judge outsiders, but it certainly is your responsibility to judge those inside the church who are sinning.” 
(1 Corinthians 5:12) 

Jesus rebuked religious leaders. Paul rebuked the church. So our confrontations must stay in bounds—inside the Body, not out in the world. 

And even inside the church, correction must be paired with patience and teaching. Paul reminds Timothy: 

“Preach the word of God. Be prepared, whether the time is favorable or not. Patiently correct, rebuke, and encourage your people with good teaching. For a time is coming when people will no longer listen to sound and wholesome teaching…” 
(2 Timothy 4:2–3) 

So yes—rebuke. But do it patiently. 
Correct—with truth and love. 
Encourage—but never compromise. 

That’s the real Jesus. That’s the real Gospel. And that’s what the book of Nahum demands we remember. 

But in our modern world, the media has crafted a version of Jesus who acts like a bad parent—always affirming, never correcting. It’s the soft gospel of theological cowardice, and it's everywhere. This counterfeit Christianity whispers, “God just wants you to be happy.” But the Bible declares something much deeper and far more demanding: God wants you to be holy. 

*“Have you forgotten the encouraging words God spoke to you as His children? He said, ‘My child, don’t make light of the Lord’s discipline, and don’t give up when He corrects you. For the Lord disciplines those He loves, and He punishes each one He accepts as His child.’ As you endure this divine discipline, remember that God is treating you as His own children. Who ever heard of a child who is never disciplined by its father? If God doesn’t discipline you as He does all of His children, it means that you are illegitimate and are not really His children at all. Since we respected our earthly fathers who disciplined us, shouldn’t we submit even more to the discipline of the Father of our spirits, and live forever? 

“For our earthly fathers disciplined us for a few years, doing the best they knew how. But God’s discipline is always good for us, so that we might share in His holiness. No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.”* 
— Hebrews 12:5–11 

If God is truly our Father, then He must discipline us, just like any good father would. And the word used here in the Greek for “discipline” is μαστιγόω (mastigóō, pronounced: mah-stee-GOH-oh), which means to scourge. It's the same word used for the scourging Jesus endured at the cross. This isn’t a light slap on the wrist. It’s severe, intentional correction. 

And then there’s another lie that slips in—just as dangerous. The idea that Jesus doesn’t judge anyone. 

This misunderstanding often comes from cherry-picking Scripture. People read John 3:17, where Jesus says, “God sent His Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through Him.” But they don’t keep reading. Jesus didn’t come to judge the world at that time—He came to die for it. But He also made it clear: He will come again to judge it. 

“And I tell you this, you must give an account on judgment day for every idle word you speak. The words you say will either acquit you or condemn you.” 
— Matthew 12:36–37 

Jesus said that. And He wasn’t just speaking to unbelievers. He was warning everyone—especially His followers. It fits perfectly with James 3:1, “Dear brothers and sisters, not many of you should become teachers in the church, for we who teach will be judged more strictly.” 

Paul confirms this repeatedly. In 2 Corinthians 5:10: 

“For we must all stand before Christ to be judged. We will each receive whatever we deserve for the good or evil we have done in this earthly body.” 

This is written to believers. Look at the context—Paul includes himself: “we must all stand.” This is what’s often referred to as the judgment seat of Christ, where our works—not our salvation—are evaluated. 

“Remember, we will all stand before the judgment seat of God. For the Scriptures say, ‘As surely as I live,’ says the Lord, ‘every knee will bend to Me, and every tongue will declare allegiance to God.’ Yes, each of us will give a personal account to God.” 
— Romans 14:10–12 

Paul is saying this to the church in Rome—not to the pagans. He’s telling Christians, stop judging each other—because God will judge all of you. 

Peter echoes the same urgency: 

“For the time has come for judgment, and it must begin with God’s household. And if judgment begins with us, what terrible fate awaits those who have never obeyed God’s Good News?” 
— 1 Peter 4:17 

Peter isn’t talking about eternal damnation here. He’s talking about the refining and purifying work of God—starting inside His own house. The Church. 

We see it again in Revelation. Jesus speaks to seven different churches. And He judges each one—not with vague generalities, but with pinpoint accuracy. 

“I know all the things you do… But I have this against you… Repent, or I will come and remove your lampstand… To the one who is victorious, I will give…” 

This is Jesus evaluating His church—their faithfulness, their works, their toleration of sin, their love. Every church leader, every member, every local body is being watched, measured, and refined. Not to determine salvation, but to assess stewardship. 

Paul makes this even clearer: 

“But if we would examine ourselves, we would not be judged by God in this way. Yet when we are judged by the Lord, we are being disciplined so that we will not be condemned along with the world.” 
— 1 Corinthians 11:31–32 

There it is. Judged and disciplined, yes—but not condemned. Christ disciplines the church so that it will be refined, not rejected. 

So these judgments include: 

Accountability 

Reward or loss 

Exposure of motives 

Purging of sin 

Evaluation of churches and their leaders 

That’s why we preach with urgency. The time isn’t coming—it’s already here. 

Nahum reveals a God who is both compassionate and consuming. As Hebrews 12:29 reminds us, “Our God is a devouring fire.” The cross was not symbolic—it was necessary. The resurrection was not a happy ending—it was the powerful conquest over death. So we don’t need loud, angry preachers. We need truthful ones. We don’t need divisive political ideologies. We need prophetic voices calling the Church to holiness in the wilderness of compromise. 

If we only preach “God loves you” and never preach “God is holy,” we aren’t preaching the gospel. We’re handing people a counterfeit comfort that will lead them straight to destruction. 

So what do we do? 

Ask the Lord to search your heart. Is there hidden rebellion you’ve justified because God hasn’t judged it yet? Examine yourself, as 2 Corinthians 13:5 urges. Test your faith. 

Trust God’s timing and justice. When you feel the desire for revenge, back off. Don’t take vengeance—that’s God’s job. Let Him work. And don’t procrastinate. Don’t play spiritual chicken with the Judge of the universe. There is no benefit in delaying repentance. 

The time is now. 

Reach out to your church leaders. If you’re stuck in a cycle of shame, sin, and regret, come talk. Not to be shamed—but to be restored. We’re here to help you walk the narrow path of love, joy, and peace—anchored in the confidence of eternal life through Jesus Christ. A confidence no one can steal from you. 

Because the same God who shook the mountains in Nahum’s day still shakes the proud today. The Lion who roared against Nineveh still roars against every empire of arrogance. The fire that consumed injustice still burns through history—purifying His people and bringing down the schemes of the wicked. 

So if you’ve been playing games with grace, stop. If you’ve been crushed by the cruelty of this world, stand. Because the same God who says “I’m your enemy” to the oppressor also says, “The Lord is good, a strong refuge when trouble comes.” (Nahum 1:7) 

His judgment is real. So flee to the cross. 
His mercy is deep. So don’t drown in pride. 
His justice is final. So let your hope be eternal. 

The world may no longer fear God. But we do. 
The world may mock His truth. But we will not bend. 
Because when the dust settles and the fire fades, only one kingdom will remain. 

And it’s not Nineveh. 
It’s His. 
Forever. 

 
 
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©️ Copyright 2025 Gene Simco Most Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright ©1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved. Scriptures in brackets reflect the original Biblical languages.

Nahum: Don’t Game Grace

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