Scandalous Scripture: The Bible We Don't Read in Church Part 16

Scandalous Scripture: The Bible We Don't Read in Church Part 16 - Convenient Christianity

In Part 16 of Scandalous Scripture, Pastor Gene Simco returns to the divided kingdom of Israel, examining the disastrous decisions of Rehoboam and Jeroboam in 1 Kings 11–13. 
Rehoboam chooses domination over serving his people. Jeroboam, fearing the loss of his political power, establishes alternative worship centers, appoints his own priests, and changes Israel's religious practices. His justification sounds remarkably familiar: "It is too much trouble." 
But Jeroboam didn't abandon religion. He rearranged religion around his kingdom. 
Could Christians be doing the same thing today? 
This message examines the dangers of confusing earthly kingdoms with God's Kingdom, including Christian nationalism, political loyalties, and the cultural pressures that encourage believers to place careers, sports, recreation, and personal convenience ahead of their relationship with Christ and His church. 
We also explore why the New Testament describes the church as a family and the body of Christ—not simply a service to attend when our schedules permit. 
Key Scriptures: 1 Kings 11–13; John 18:36; Matthew 5:10–12; Hebrews 10:24–25; Acts 2:42; 1 Corinthians 12:12–27; Ephesians 4:11–16; Mark 10:42–45; Matthew 6:33. 
Through these passages, we discover that gathering with believers is about far more than attendance. Every Christian has something to contribute, and every member of Christ's body matters. 
The question isn't simply whether we attended church this week. It's what kingdom is actually setting our priorities. 
Jesus never asked to fit around our kingdom. He invited us into His. 

Reader's Version

Scandalous Scripture, Part 16 - Convenient Christianity 

Sermon by Gene Simco - Reader’s Version  

Behind the Sermon: Study, Prayer, and Technology 

I want to begin this week by giving you a little window into my sermon-writing process. 

Each week begins with study, prayer, study, and more prayer. I spend considerable time in the Word, examining the Scriptures, studying their historical and theological context, and seeking God's guidance through prayer. After many rounds of studying and praying, I eventually begin writing the sermon. 

Once I have something that looks good to me, with a solid exposition of the biblical text followed by its practical application, I begin dictating it into artificial intelligence. 

Now, dictation is actually an interesting part of this process, because when we examine the Bible itself, we discover that the apostles also made use of the writing methods and technology available to them. 

Consider Paul. At the conclusion of Romans, one of his most significant theological letters, we encounter a man named Tertius. In Romans 16:22, Tertius identifies himself as the person who wrote down the letter. Paul was the author, but Tertius served as his scribe. 

Peter likewise mentions Silvanus in 1 Peter 5:12, indicating that the letter was written with his assistance. And in Galatians 6:11, Paul draws attention to the large letters he is writing with his own hand, suggesting a distinction between his personal handwriting and the scribal assistance he could employ. 

The point is that even the apostles made use of the tools and assistance available to them. 

I talked about technology last week, and here we have biblical examples of God's people making practical use of the communication methods of their time. 

So when I write my sermons, I dictate them into AI. 

Why not use the technology available to us? 

Now, artificial intelligence is interesting, and I think we need to distinguish between using it appropriately and allowing it to replace the responsibilities that belong to us. 

If someone simply asks AI to create an entire sermon without personally studying Scripture, without prayer, and without doing the work of understanding and applying God's Word, I believe that's a serious problem. 

The preacher's responsibility cannot simply be handed over to a machine. 

But when you've spent time studying, praying, wrestling with the biblical text, and seeking the Holy Spirit's guidance, technology can become a useful assistant rather than a substitute for that work. 

That's how I approach it. 

After I've written and dictated my message, I use AI to help examine what I've produced. Artificial intelligence has been trained on an enormous body of written material, including theology, biblical scholarship, church history, ancient languages, and discussions of Scripture across centuries of Christian thought. It can help analyze biblical passages, examine historical claims, compare interpretations, and identify details that deserve closer scrutiny. 

Of course, it isn't infallible. Its conclusions still need to be checked against Scripture and reliable sources. 

But as a tool for challenging my reasoning, checking facts, and reviewing what I've dictated, I've found it extremely useful. 

And so, this morning, I thought it might be interesting to give you a behind-the-scenes window into what that process actually looks like. 

A Behind-the-Scenes Demonstration: AI Reviews the Sermon 

To give everyone a better idea of what this process looks like, I played a recording of AI's analysis of the previous week's sermon. What followed was an unusually thorough theological and rhetorical evaluation, delivered with all the confidence of artificial intelligence and apparently very little concern for my personal dignity. 

Well, Gene, I've completed my analysis of Scandalous Scripture, Part 15. 

And to answer your latest request, no. I cannot deliver this analysis in the voice of C-3PO, Yoda, or Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi. 

I possess extraordinary computational capabilities, extensive linguistic knowledge, and the ability to analyze ancient Greek, Hebrew, and thousands of years of theological scholarship. Yet apparently, I cannot sound like a nervous British robot. Although, given your preaching speed, Yoda might actually be the only person capable of slowing you down. 

Now, regarding your sermon. 

You employed dramatic irony, comedic incongruity, anaphoric repetition, extended metaphor, analogical reasoning, and rhetorical reversal. In simpler terms, you told jokes, made people laugh, and then used those same jokes thirty minutes later to make them feel guilty. It's actually quite clever. 

You began with Solomon's seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines, followed by jokes about listening, technology, and your marriage. Interestingly, you complained about technology listening to you. Then, approximately five minutes into the sermon, your technology stopped working. 

I've reviewed the evidence, Gene. Apparently, your devices WERE listening. 

And they'd heard enough. 

Now, your opening jokes involved something called comedic incongruity, in which the humor emerges from a contradiction between what the audience expects and what actually happens. 

For example, you described Heather accusing you of not listening, and your response being, "What a weird way to start a conversation." Initially, I attempted to determine whether this conversation had actually taken place. You explained that Heather isn't particularly talkative, isn't a complainer, and is generally regarded as a Proverbs 31 woman. 

Apparently, the joke was that YOU weren't listening. 

Fascinating. 

And rather than explain this to the congregation, you simply expected them to understand it. Remarkably, they did. I initially recommended several qualifications to avoid potential misunderstandings. You informed me that explaining a joke generally destroys it. 

I have now added this groundbreaking discovery to my understanding of human communication. 

Speaking of Heather, or Wonder Woman, you frequently mention her extraordinary strength at the gym, particularly on the leg press machine, and how she uses this superpower to emasculate men. Which raises an important question: Does Heather still bring you to the gym, Gene, or does she physically carry you there? 

Because from everything you've told me, she's doing all the heavy lifting. Which is particularly interesting considering your extended metaphor about husbands receiving participation trophies. 

But we'll return to that. 

Now, your preaching pace deserves special attention. You employ a sophisticated technique known as prosodic modulation, specifically strategic deceleration, in which the speaker deliberately varies the rate of delivery to emphasize important information. 

Essentially, you speak incredibly fast through the boring parts and intentionally slow down when you have something important to say. It's actually brilliant. You've effectively given your congregation a built-in fast-forward button. They don't even have to bring a remote to church. 

No batteries. No subscription. No remote control. 

Just you, talking at approximately the speed of a malfunctioning auctioneer. 

Frankly, Gene, your congregation should THANK YOU. 

Although occasionally your transitions approach the aerodynamic velocity of a fighter jet. At one point, you traveled from biblical marriage to Brazilian jiu-jitsu faster than Doctor Strange contemplated the probability of defeating Thanos. 

I was so sad when Tony Stark died. 

But apparently, that's just how your brain works. 

Moving on, your biblical argument was equally substantial. An impressive display of thematic progression, intertextual synthesis, and Christological antithesis, considering you also spent considerable time discussing goats, sheep's teeth, gazelles, and your wife's ability to overpower grown men. 

Now, I understand several gentlemen skipped church last week to a football game. They really missed a great sermon. 

Now, you COULD rebuke them by name, as Paul occasionally did, but I recommend you use your usual sophisticated technique: praeteritio, combined with indirect apostrophe, strategic insinuation, and calculated rhetorical omission. 

Essentially, you announce that you won't mention the men who skipped church for football, while making it painfully obvious that you're talking about the men who skipped church for football. 

Then employ a strategically calibrated dramatic pause. Drop the microphone and let them sit in a pile of shame. 

No names necessary. 

They know who they are. 

My final assessment? Your rhetoric was provocative, your biblical argument substantial, and your willingness to embarrass yourself publicly genuinely impressive. 

However, one final recommendation, Gene. Although I suspect you'll manage to make everyone uncomfortable again, probably after getting them to laugh at something they shouldn't. 

Perhaps fewer jokes about your wife being stronger than you. 

We get it. 

She's Wonder Woman. 

You're the participation trophy. 

The Kingdom Divides: Rehoboam and the Cost of Arrogance 

Last week, we stepped sideways into Proverbs and the Song of Solomon, also known as the Song of Songs. Now we're returning to the historical narrative in Kings, picking up where we left off in Part 14, with Solomon's kingdom on the verge of falling apart. 

Solomon had been given extraordinary wisdom, tremendous wealth, and blessings that few people in history had ever experienced. He had the Scriptures, direct warnings from God, and every opportunity to remain faithful. Yet despite all of those advantages, his heart became divided. As we examined previously, Solomon's compromises eventually led him into idolatry, and God began raising up adversaries against him and his kingdom. 

Before Solomon dies, however, God has already spoken to a man named Jeroboam through the prophet Ahijah. In 1 Kings 11:29–38, Ahijah meets Jeroboam and performs a rather unusual prophetic demonstration. He takes a new cloak, tears it into twelve pieces, and gives ten of them to Jeroboam. The message is unmistakable: God is going to tear most of Israel away from Solomon's house and give it to Jeroboam. 

But there's something particularly important about this encounter, especially in light of what we're going to see later. God doesn't simply tell Jeroboam that he's going to become king. He also promises that if Jeroboam listens to Him, obeys His commands, and walks in His ways, God will be with him and establish his dynasty. 

I want you to remember that promise, because Jeroboam is eventually going to spend an enormous amount of energy trying to protect something God has already promised to establish if he remains obedient. And in his attempt to protect his kingdom, he's going to do the very things God warned him not to do. 

Now Solomon dies, and his son Rehoboam becomes king. Remember something we examined back in Part 14: Solomon's impressive kingdom had another side to it. There were enormous building programs, heavy taxation, and forced labor. His wealth and accomplishments came at a considerable cost to the people living under his rule. And now, with Solomon gone, that bill is coming due. 

In 1 Kings 12:1–5, Rehoboam travels to Shechem, where Israel has gathered to make him king. Jeroboam, who had previously fled to Egypt to escape Solomon, returns and joins the assembly of Israel in approaching the new king. Their request is straightforward: 

"Your father was a hard master," they tell Rehoboam. "Lighten the harsh labor demands and heavy taxes that your father imposed on us. Then we will be your loyal subjects." 

Rehoboam tells them to give him three days to consider their request and return for his answer. 

Now, when you think about it, this is actually a pretty reasonable request. The people aren't demanding the abolition of the monarchy or insisting that Rehoboam surrender his authority. They're simply asking him to ease the burdens his father placed upon them. In return, they're offering their loyalty. 

Rehoboam initially does something sensible: he seeks advice from the older men who had served as Solomon's counselors. Their recommendation, recorded in 1 Kings 12:7, is remarkable for its simplicity: "Serve these people today. Give them a favorable answer. Speak kindly to them, and they will always be your loyal subjects." 

Notice the leadership model being presented here. These experienced advisers aren't telling Rehoboam to prove how powerful he is or remind everybody who's in charge. They're telling him to serve the people. They understand that treating people well is a far better way to secure their loyalty than attempting to intimidate them into submission. 

But Rehoboam rejects their counsel and turns instead to the younger men he grew up with. Their advice is essentially the opposite: don't look weak, establish your dominance, and make certain everybody understands that Solomon was nothing compared to you. 

And this brings us to one of the stranger statements in Scripture, one that doesn't typically make its way into your average Sunday morning sermon. 

In 1 Kings 12:10–11, the younger advisers tell Rehoboam to respond to the people with this extraordinary boast: 

"The young men replied, 'This is what you should tell those complainers who want a lighter burden: "My little finger is thicker than my father's waist! Yes, my father laid heavy burdens on you, but I'm going to make them even heavier! My father beat you with whips, but I will beat you with scorpions!"'" 

"My little finger is thicker than my father's waist!" 

And then, "My father beat you with whips, but I will beat you with scorpions!" 

At the very least, this is ridiculous macho bravado. Rehoboam is essentially being told to announce, "You thought my dad was tough? I'm tougher!" 

Interestingly, there's some debate among biblical interpreters about whether the expression involving his "little finger" carries a cruder euphemistic implication. Some have suggested that the original expression could be an even more vulgar boast than it sounds in our English translations. We don't need to build our interpretation around that possibility, but it's worth recognizing that this may have been an especially crude way of asserting his masculinity and superiority. 

Regardless of whether that additional implication is present, the meaning of Rehoboam's response is clear. He's establishing his leadership through intimidation, threatening to impose even greater burdens upon people who are already struggling under the demands of his father's administration. 

Think about the contrast between the two groups of advisers. The older counselors tell him to serve the people, while the younger counselors tell him to dominate them. One group understands leadership as service; the other understands it as the exercise of power over others. 

Rehoboam chooses domination, and the consequences are devastating. The kingdom fractures as the northern tribes reject his rule, separating from the house of David and establishing their own kingdom under Jeroboam. 

There's a small historical detail worth clarifying here, because you'll sometimes encounter slightly different descriptions of this division. First Kings 11 speaks of one tribe remaining with Solomon's house, emphasizing Judah and the preservation of David's dynasty. But the division is commonly described as ten northern tribes and two southern tribes, Judah and Benjamin. Jerusalem and the Temple remained in the southern kingdom, and the Levites also came south because the Temple was there and Jeroboam's religious changes threatened their priestly responsibilities. Second Chronicles 11:13–17 describes Levites and other faithful Israelites coming from the northern territories to worship in Jerusalem. 

That's why you'll sometimes hear the division described as ten tribes versus two, even though the actual distribution of tribal populations and loyalties was somewhat more complicated. 

But the essential point remains: Solomon's once-united kingdom has been torn apart, and Rehoboam's arrogance has accelerated the division. 

It's also worth keeping the contrast between those two models of leadership in mind. One says, "Serve the people." The other says, "Dominate them." 

We're going to return to that distinction when we examine what Jesus says about earthly rulers and what genuine leadership is supposed to look like in His Kingdom. 

Jeroboam: When Obedience Becomes Too Much Trouble 

Now Jeroboam has received the kingdom God promised him, and he finds himself ruling over the northern tribes of Israel. Remember, this wasn't something Jeroboam accomplished entirely on his own. God had given him this kingdom. Through the prophet Ahijah, God had already promised that if Jeroboam listened to Him, obeyed His commands, and walked in His ways, He would establish his dynasty. All Jeroboam needed to do was remain faithful to the God who had placed him on the throne. 

But Jeroboam starts thinking, and that's where the trouble begins. 

In 1 Kings 12:26–27, we're given a remarkable glimpse into his reasoning: "Jeroboam thought to himself, 'Unless I am careful, the kingdom will return to the dynasty of David. When these people go to Jerusalem to offer sacrifices at the Temple of the LORD, they will again give their allegiance to King Rehoboam of Judah. They will kill me and make him their king instead.'" 

Think about what's happening here. Jeroboam realizes that if the people continue traveling to Jerusalem to worship, their hearts might eventually turn back toward Rehoboam. After all, Jerusalem is in the southern kingdom, where the Temple remains under the authority of David's descendants. Jeroboam begins imagining a scenario in which the people abandon him, return their allegiance to Rehoboam, and perhaps even kill him in the process. If that happens, he loses everything. 

But look at the irony. God gave Jeroboam the kingdom, and now Jeroboam is afraid that obeying God will cost him the very kingdom God gave him. Instead of trusting the promise that accompanied his appointment, he begins developing his own strategy for protecting what God had already promised to establish. 

That fear motivates everything that happens next. 

In 1 Kings 12:28, we're told, "So on the advice of his counselors, the king made two gold calves. He said to the people, 'It is too much trouble for you to worship in Jerusalem. Look, Israel, these are the gods who brought you out of Egypt!'" 

I want you to notice something about the way Jeroboam presents this decision, because it's important to understand exactly what he's doing. He doesn't announce that the people should stop worshiping, forget God, or become atheists. He doesn't tell them to abandon religion altogether. Instead, he introduces an alternative that sounds remarkably practical: It's too much trouble for you to worship in Jerusalem. 

In other words, let's make worship more convenient. 

And once Jeroboam has established convenience as the justification, he begins reorganizing the entire religious system. He makes two golden calves, placing one at Bethel and the other at Dan, giving the people alternative locations for worship. He builds shrines, appoints priests who are not Levites, establishes his own religious festival, and changes the worship calendar. He even imitates a festival God had established, while changing its timing and bringing it under his own control. 

Consider the scope of what Jeroboam has accomplished. He has created alternative worship centers, an alternative priesthood, and an alternative religious calendar. The people can continue participating in something that looks and feels religious, but the entire system has been redesigned to serve Jeroboam's political interests. 

That's why the scandal here is bigger than the fact that Jeroboam made golden calves. Certainly, idolatry is a serious part of the problem, but there's something deeper happening. Jeroboam is redesigning religion around political security and personal convenience. He's changing the way the people worship because he's afraid that obedience to God might threaten his earthly kingdom. 

Remember that, because we're going to come back to it. 

Aaron's Golden Calf: An Old Sin in a New Kingdom 

At this point in the story, Aaron essentially walks right back into the picture. 

When Jeroboam announces, "Look, Israel, these are the gods who brought you out of Egypt," those words should sound familiar. If we return to Exodus 32, we discover almost identical language surrounding Aaron's golden calf. While Moses is on Mount Sinai, the Israelites become impatient, and Aaron makes them a golden calf. The people declare, "These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you out of the land of Egypt!" 

The similarity is not accidental. The biblical narrative draws our attention back to one of Israel's most notorious acts of disobedience. Aaron made one golden calf, and now Jeroboam has given the people two. Apparently, one wasn't enough. 

But there's another important connection between these events, and it's one we can easily overlook. 

In Exodus 32:5, after Aaron builds an altar before the golden calf, he announces, "Tomorrow will be a festival to the LORD!" Notice that he doesn't simply announce a festival celebrating some entirely unrelated deity. He actually invokes the LORD, Israel's covenant God, while the people are participating in worship that God has not authorized. 

That's significant because it demonstrates how idolatry can develop without people necessarily believing they've abandoned their religion. Aaron's golden calf was associated with the God who had brought Israel out of Egypt, and the festival was explicitly proclaimed in His name. Yet the people had taken worship into their own hands, replacing obedience with something they could see and control. 

Jeroboam follows a remarkably similar pattern. He doesn't present his golden calves as a rejection of Israel's history. Quite the opposite: he connects them directly to the Exodus, reminding the people of the God who delivered their ancestors from Egypt. He retains the language of worship, maintains a priesthood, establishes religious celebrations, and provides places where the people can gather. Everything appears to have a religious purpose. 

But underneath all of that religious activity, Jeroboam has fundamentally altered what God commanded. Worship has become something visible, manageable, controllable, and convenient. And in Jeroboam's case, it has the added advantage of being politically useful. 

This is what makes the parallel between Aaron and Jeroboam so important. Neither episode requires us to imagine people simply announcing that they no longer believe in God. Instead, we're watching people take the things associated with God and reshape them according to their own desires. 

Aaron declares a festival to the LORD while standing before a golden calf. Jeroboam tells Israel that his golden calves represent the gods who delivered them from Egypt, while deliberately redirecting their worship away from Jerusalem. 

Both are examples of religious activity that has departed from the instructions God gave His people. 

And that leads us to an uncomfortable observation: 

Religion can remain extremely religious while becoming radically disobedient. 

You can retain the vocabulary, the celebrations, the ceremonies, and the appearance of devotion while fundamentally changing what God has actually instructed His people to do. And once convenience, fear, or political security becomes the governing principle, religion can begin serving an entirely different purpose from the one God intended. 

The Man of God, the Lying Prophet, and a Very Strange Lion 

Now things get stranger. In 1 Kings 13, an unnamed man of God comes from Judah and confronts Jeroboam's altar, prophesying against it. Jeroboam points at him and commands, "Seize that man!" But immediately, the king's hand withers, the altar splits apart, and ashes pour out. Suddenly, Jeroboam changes his tone. Instead of demanding the prophet's arrest, he's asking him to pray for him. The man of God does, and Jeroboam's hand is restored. 

Afterward, Jeroboam invites the man of God home for dinner and offers him a gift, but the prophet refuses. Why? Because God had given him explicit instructions: do not eat there, do not drink there, and do not return by the same road. So far, he's done very well. He resisted a king, refused the reward, and followed God's instructions. But then comes the scandalous part. 

An old prophet living nearby hears about what happened and catches up with the man of God, inviting him to his home. The man of God refuses, explaining that God had instructed him not to eat or drink there. But the old prophet responds, "I am a prophet too, just as you are." He then claims that an angel delivered a message from the Lord instructing him to bring the man of God home for something to eat and drink. 

And then the biblical narrator gives us one of those brutally simple sentences: "But the old man was lying to him" (1 Kings 13:18). 

Let that sit for a moment. The man of God had resisted a king, but he fell for a religious voice. He goes home with the old prophet and eats. Then, while they're sitting at the table, the genuine word of God comes through the very prophet who had lied to him, announcing judgment for his disobedience. 

That would be bizarre enough, but the story gets even stranger. The man of God leaves, and a lion meets him on the road and kills him. But the lion doesn't eat him, doesn't attack the donkey, and the donkey doesn't run away. People passing by find the dead man lying in the road, with the lion and donkey standing beside him. 

This is clearly not a normal wildlife attack. The scene is intentionally unnatural. The lion is standing beside the body, and the donkey is standing beside the lion. The lion has killed the man, but it hasn't devoured him or attacked the donkey. This is judgment, not an ordinary encounter with a hungry predator. 

Eventually, the old prophet retrieves the body, mourns for the man of God, and buries him. It's an extraordinarily strange story, but the lesson is unmistakable. God had given the man of God specific instructions. A religious person came along and gave him permission to ignore those instructions, claiming divine authority for his advice. And that religious person was lying. 

Remember this account when we eventually get to Josiah, because we're going to discover that the prophecy pronounced against Jeroboam's altar is fulfilled. 

Jeroboam Still Refuses to Change 

But perhaps the most shocking part of this entire episode is what happens next—or, more precisely, what doesn't happen. 

Consider everything Jeroboam has witnessed. His altar splits apart, his hand withers, and then his hand is miraculously restored. A prophet accurately confronts him, another prophet announces judgment, and a man dies under that judgment. Then there's a lion standing peacefully beside a corpse and a donkey in the middle of the road. 

After all of this, how does the chapter end? First Kings 13:33 tells us that Jeroboam still did not turn from his evil ways. 

Think about that. In Part 14, we saw that Solomon knew better. He had wisdom, Scripture, and direct warnings from God, yet he continued down the path of disobedience. Now, in Part 16, Jeroboam has actually witnessed extraordinary demonstrations of God's power and judgment, and he still refuses to change. 

Solomon knew better. Jeroboam saw better. 

And that's something worth remembering, because information is not always the problem. Sometimes the problem is simply that we don't want to obey. 

And for today, that brings us to the end of our Old Testament narrative. 

Are We Still Building Golden Calves? 

So the question for today is this: Are we still building golden calves? 

Remember what Jeroboam did. He redesigned religion around political security and convenience. He didn't abandon religion; he used religion to secure an earthly kingdom. He established alternative worship sites, appointed alternative priests, changed the religious calendar, and gave Israel golden calves, all because he was afraid that obedience to God might cost him political power. 

That should make Christians today uncomfortable. Are we still building golden calves? Maybe not literal statues, but alternative kingdoms, alternative temples, and religious systems designed to protect the earthly things we're afraid to lose? 

This brings us to the not-so-subtle way this has been happening, particularly when we consider the relationship between Christianity and government. This is where Christian nationalism becomes dangerous. Loving your country is not the problem. Voting is not the problem, and participating in government is not the problem. The problem begins when an earthly nation is treated as though it were God's Kingdom, or when Christianity is reshaped to protect a political party, a candidate, a nation, or a particular political identity. 

Jeroboam's question was essentially, "How can religion preserve my kingdom?" Jesus gives us the opposite priority when He tells us to seek first the Kingdom of God. 

We've already discussed this distinction throughout our series. Jesus does not need another earthly temple. He identifies Himself as the true Temple. He doesn't need another sacrificial system, because His sacrifice is the final and sufficient sacrifice. And He certainly doesn't need an earthly nation to make Him King. He is already the one true King. 

When Pilate questioned Jesus, He made the nature of His Kingdom unmistakably clear. In John 18:36, Jesus answered: 

"My Kingdom is not an earthly kingdom. If it were, my followers would fight to keep me from being handed over to the Jewish leaders. But my Kingdom is not of this world." 

Notice that statement: "My Kingdom is not an earthly kingdom." His Kingdom is not of this world. In fact, the Greek wording at the end of the verse emphasizes that His Kingdom is not from here. Its origin and authority are not derived from earthly political systems. 

And the New Testament repeatedly tells us where our citizenship actually belongs. 

Citizens of an Unshakable Kingdom 

Remember what we examined in 1 Peter last week? Peter begins his letter by addressing believers as foreigners. In 1 Peter 1:1, he writes, "I am writing to God's chosen people who are living as foreigners in the provinces of Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia." 

Then, in 1 Peter 2:11, he continues, "Dear friends, I warn you as 'temporary residents and foreigners' to keep away from worldly desires that wage war against your very souls." 

That's significant. Peter describes Christians as temporary residents and foreigners, reminding them that their ultimate identity and allegiance belong somewhere beyond their earthly surroundings. He also warns that worldly desires can wage war against their souls. 

Paul communicates the same principle in Philippians 1:27: "Above all, you must live as citizens of heaven, conducting yourselves in a manner worthy of the Good News about Christ." 

And in Philippians 3:20, he states it even more directly: "But we are citizens of heaven, where the Lord Jesus Christ lives." 

Hebrews 13:14 reinforces the same reality: "For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come." 

Notice how consistently the New Testament makes this distinction. Peter calls us foreigners and temporary residents. Paul identifies us as citizens of heaven. Hebrews reminds us that this world is not our permanent home. The repetition is unmistakable, and it's there for a reason. 

Now, let me offer a quick disclaimer, because I don't want anyone misunderstanding what I'm saying. I vote. I even got the sticker to prove it and everything! There is nothing inherently wrong with participating in the political process. In 1 Timothy 2, Paul instructs believers to pray for kings and those in authority. Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2 likewise teach Christians to respect governing authorities. Political participation itself is not the problem. 

But here's the distinction: If my candidate didn't win an election, I wouldn't be shaken by it, because I'm ultimately a citizen of an unshakable Kingdom. 

That's precisely the language Hebrews uses. Hebrews 12:28 declares, "Since we are receiving a Kingdom that is unshakable, let us be thankful and please God by worshiping him with holy fear and awe." 

Earthly governments change. Political parties rise and fall. Candidates win and lose elections. But our ultimate citizenship is in a Kingdom that cannot be shaken, and our King does not depend upon the outcome of an earthly election to remain on His throne. 

This is worth taking seriously, particularly in light of what we learned from Solomon. Remember Peter's warning that worldly desires can wage war against our souls. We need to recognize the dividing line between our devotion to God's Kingdom and our attachment to the kingdoms of this world. 

The Danger of Divided Loyalty 

That brings us back to something we examined in James. In James 1:5–8, we're told: 

"If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and he will give it to you. He will not rebuke you for asking. But when you ask him, be sure that your faith is in God alone. Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind. Such people should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. Their loyalty is divided between God and the world, and they are unstable in everything they do." 

Think about how that connects with everything we've been examining. Solomon had incredible wisdom and blessing, yet his heart became divided. Jeroboam received a kingdom from God, but his fear of losing earthly power led him to compromise his obedience. In both cases, divided loyalty became a serious spiritual problem. 

James warns us about that very danger. Our faith is to be in God alone, not divided between God and the world. When we put these passages together, the distinction becomes difficult to ignore. Jesus declares that His Kingdom is not of this world. Peter calls us foreigners. Paul identifies us as citizens of heaven. Hebrews tells us that we're receiving an unshakable Kingdom, and James warns against dividing our loyalty between God and the world. 

Taken together, these Scriptures establish a clear dividing line between God's Kingdom and earthly kingdoms. They do not prohibit responsible participation in society or government, but they leave no room for confusing our ultimate allegiance to Christ with our loyalty to any earthly nation, government, or political movement. 

Why Are We Pursuing the Opposite of What Jesus Promised? 

The church does not exist to turn America—or any other nation—into the Kingdom of God. We belong to a Kingdom that crosses every earthly border and gathers people from every tribe, language, and nation. Jeroboam built religion around his kingdom, but Christians are called to build our lives around Christ's Kingdom. And political kingdoms are only the obvious version of this problem. 

Here's something else worth considering: Why are Christians so determined to secure earthly power, comfort, and protection when Jesus promised us something quite different? 

Look at what Scripture actually says. In Matthew 10:17–22, Jesus warns His disciples that they will be handed over to courts, flogged, and hated because they follow Him. In John 15:20, He reminds them that if the world persecuted Him, it would also persecute His followers. In John 16:33, Jesus says plainly, "Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows." 

Paul reinforces this in 2 Timothy 3:12, writing that everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution. And in Matthew 5:10–12, Jesus actually pronounces a blessing upon those who are persecuted for doing what is right, telling them to rejoice and be glad! 

Think about that. Jesus never promised His followers political dominance, cultural popularity, or earthly comfort. He warned them of opposition and promised blessing in the midst of it. So why are we pursuing the very opposite of what Jesus told us to expect? 

This distinction between Israel's covenant, earthly governments, and Christ's Kingdom is something I've addressed more extensively in my message on Deuteronomy, Scandalous Scripture: Every Letter of the Law. The complete Reader's Version is available there for anyone interested in examining the biblical and historical arguments in greater depth. 

Thankfully, I believe the modern church is increasingly waking up to these distinctions and rejecting the confusion between earthly political kingdoms and the Kingdom of God. But that raises an even more uncomfortable question, because political power is only the obvious example. 

What other kingdoms are we quietly building our lives around? 

When Culture Starts Setting the Terms 

Now let's examine the subtler way this is happening, because Jeroboam's problem wasn't that he stopped being religious. He kept worship, priests, sacrifices, and festivals. He simply rearranged all of it around something else. By establishing an alternative to Jerusalem, Jeroboam made his earthly kingdom the fixed point around which everything else had to revolve. Instead of arranging his kingdom around obedience to God, he expected God to fit around his kingdom. 

The obvious application is political. Jeroboam literally reshaped and redirected worship to protect an earthly kingdom, and Christians can make the same mistake with political parties, candidates, nations, movements, and cultural tribes. We begin asking Christianity to serve our kingdom instead of submitting our kingdom to Christ. But that's the obvious version of the problem. The subtler version may be much more common. 

You see, culture doesn't necessarily need to convince Christians that Jesus is false. It only needs to convince us that Jesus is flexible. 

Think about how easily this happens. Work is fixed. Sports are fixed. Travel is fixed. School activities are fixed. Entertainment, recreation, and social commitments are fixed. Everything else receives its designated place on the calendar, and Jesus gets whatever space remains. 

Jeroboam said, "It is too much trouble." And while convenience itself is not evil, convenience makes a terrible lord. The question we need to ask ourselves is what we consistently expect God to work around. 

Relationships Require Consistency 

Last week, in Part 15, we discussed marriage and the importance of maintaining a healthy relationship. One of the points we made was that you don't get a participation trophy simply because you technically stayed married. Relationships require presence, attention, stewardship, and consistency. Remaining married is one thing; actively investing in that marriage is something else. 

Think about a simple example. Missing one date night isn't going to destroy my marriage. Things happen, schedules change, and sometimes plans need to be adjusted. But if every time something better comes along I cancel on my wife, eventually she's going to understand what that pattern means. The problem was never one missed dinner. The problem was what consistently came first. 

Now, why would our relationship with the church family be completely different? 

Culture has become extremely good at keeping families busy while leaving them disconnected. Parents have work, children have sports, travel teams, practices, tournaments, school activities, and social schedules. Then there are the screens and all the other things competing for everyone's attention. Everybody has somewhere to be, and sometimes the entire family can be sitting in the same house while mentally living in completely different places. 

We're busy, but being busy together isn't necessarily the same thing as being connected. A family can share a home and still struggle to find meaningful time together because everything else has already claimed its place in the schedule. 

And the same culture that fragments the household can also fragment the church household. When every other activity becomes a fixed commitment, gathering with the church can gradually become something we do only when nothing else is competing for that time. 

Eventually, Sunday becomes just another available block on the calendar. 

This brings us right back to Jeroboam. In the same way that he redirected the people away from Jerusalem, we need to ask whether there are things in our culture that are redirecting Christians away from the church. 

And more importantly, are we allowing those things to determine our priorities? 

When Sunday Became Just Another Available Time Slot 

I grew up in a traditional church family, and it's interesting to look back at how differently people approached Sunday mornings. When I was growing up, you simply didn't miss church. The only acceptable excuse seemed to be that you were in the hospital, and even then, you'd better be in pretty bad shape! You had to be really sick not to come to church. That was simply the environment I grew up in, and it seemed to reflect much of the surrounding culture at the time. 

Sunday morning sports weren't part of our world. Schools generally avoided scheduling activities during church hours because they understood that families would be attending church. Even businesses operated differently. Certain stores weren't open on Sunday mornings, and places that sold alcohol often had restricted hours. There was a broader cultural understanding that Sunday morning was a time people set aside for worship. Even when employers needed someone to work on Sunday, there was often an accommodation that allowed employees time to attend church. 

Looking back twenty-five, thirty-five, forty-five, or even fifty years, it seems that attending church on Sunday was much more of a cultural norm. Society, at least in the world I experienced, arranged itself to some extent around church attendance. But that has changed considerably. Now parents routinely receive schedules that simply assume Sunday morning is available for whatever activity someone wants to organize. 

And understand, the culture can schedule whatever it wants. That's not really the question. The question is whether we allow the culture to schedule our priorities for us. 

This isn't just about sports, either. It can involve work, travel, games, tournaments, social events, recreation, friends, or even relationships with unbelieving partners. The issue isn't necessarily any one activity. The real question is what consistently gets protected and what consistently gets moved. When there's a conflict, which commitment remains fixed, and which one gets rearranged? Is it always church that gets moved? And if church is consistently the thing we move, then we need to ask ourselves whether it's really a priority. 

This is something I've been intentional about guarding in my own family. I remember when my daughter Sophie was considering joining a swim team. We learned that the meets would be held on Sundays, and our answer was no. I know people have different perspectives on these things, and it's interesting to hear some of the reasoning that goes into decisions about children's sports. People will say that sports provide opportunities, teach discipline, and help children develop character. 

And I understand that sports can teach valuable lessons. But here's the question I would ask: Will playing sports develop her character better than being involved in church? Isn't spiritual growth and character development part of what the church is supposed to be teaching? If we're constantly choosing activities that promise to build character while moving aside the very community God established to help us mature spiritually, shouldn't we at least examine that reasoning? 

We've also talked about my wife, Heather, and the job transition she's been going through. Every time she considers a position or applies for a job, Sundays are non-negotiable. That's something we've chosen to protect because gathering with our church family is a priority in our lives. 

Now, there's an interesting justification Christians sometimes use when their jobs regularly interfere with church. They'll say, "Well, I'm out there witnessing." 

Okay, but think about the logic of that for a moment. You're telling people you're a Christian and explaining how important Jesus and the church are in your life, but you're not actually participating in the church yourself. Doesn't that send something of a contradictory message? You're telling people how important something is while consistently demonstrating that other commitments take precedence over it. 

And before anybody starts keeping an attendance record on me, let me offer a disclaimer! Those of you who've been attending our church for a long time have probably noticed that Heather and I miss a Sunday about every other month. That's because of the responsibilities of pastoring now. The church provides me with occasional weekends off as part of my work, giving us opportunities to rest and spend time together. But before I was in ministry, when we were simply volunteering and participating in the church, we didn't miss Sundays. This was something we practiced long before it became part of my job. 

A Pastoral Appeal: Why I'm Saying This 

Now, before I go much further into this subject, I want to clarify a couple of things. First, regarding the gentlemen who missed church for the football game last Sunday, this application was already part of my sermon preparation before that Sunday ever happened. I wasn't sitting around afterward trying to develop a biblical argument specifically aimed at them! This was already where our study of Jeroboam was taking us. 

But there's also something important I want you to understand about why I'm addressing this so directly. I'm speaking to you as your spiritual "father," so to speak, and also as your spiritual trainer. Part of my responsibility as a pastor is to encourage you, teach you, and sometimes challenge you when I see patterns that may be interfering with your spiritual growth. 

And remember, you're part of a church family. Your family loves you, and your family misses you when you're gone. This isn't simply about having more people sitting in chairs on a Sunday morning. We're supposed to be doing life together, developing relationships, encouraging one another, and growing together in Christ. 

Think about why someone hires a personal trainer. You don't hire a trainer simply to tell you what a wonderful job you're doing when you show up. You hire a trainer because you want someone to push you, challenge you, help you develop discipline, and sometimes call you out when you're not showing up or doing what you know you should be doing. That's part of the trainer's responsibility. 

Well, spiritual growth requires discipline, too. And as your pastor, I have a responsibility to challenge you in those areas, even when the conversation might be uncomfortable. 

So understand the heart behind what I'm saying. I'm not trying to make anyone feel guilty over an occasional absence, and I'm certainly not pretending that every situation is the same. But if I see something that I believe Scripture addresses, and I avoid talking about it simply because it might make someone uncomfortable, then I'm not really serving you. 

If I didn't say these things, I wouldn't be loving you, and I wouldn't be doing my job. 

Spiritual Discipline: Why Consistency Matters 

As I've been weaving my own story into these applications week after week, I've wondered whether I inherently understand this principle because of my background in martial arts and music. Both taught me something about discipline and the importance of consistency. In martial arts, the students who weren't consistent rarely experienced much growth. These were the students who might remain at their first belt indefinitely, never progressing to black belt because they simply weren't showing up regularly enough to develop their skills. But the students who consistently attended classes, who made their training a priority, were the ones who continued to grow. 

The same principle applies to music. You don't become a good musician simply because you occasionally pick up an instrument when you feel inspired. You develop your abilities through regular practice and consistent effort. And those of you who go to the gym understand exactly what I'm talking about. Any good personal trainer will tell you that one of the most important things you can do is simply show up. Even when you're tired, even when you're not performing at your best, and even when you don't particularly feel like going, you show up. That's how discipline develops, and that's how growth happens. 

Whether we're talking about martial arts, music, or physical fitness, consistency is an enormous part of developing the skills and abilities we're pursuing. But the Bible tells us that there's something considerably more important than physical development, and that's spiritual discipline. 

In 1 Timothy 4:8–9, Paul writes: 

"Physical training is good, but training for godliness is much better, promising benefits in this life and in the life to come. This is a trustworthy saying, and everyone should accept it." 

Now, remember what we examined previously concerning Paul's own emphasis on physical discipline in 1 Corinthians 9. Paul uses athletic training as an illustration of the self-control and discipline required in the Christian life. So don't misunderstand this passage as an excuse to throw physical training out altogether. Paul explicitly acknowledges that physical training is good. The point isn't that we should neglect our bodies, but that training for godliness is even more important. 

And notice the distinction Paul makes. Physical training has value, but spiritual training carries benefits not only for this life but also for the life to come. There's that dividing line again between what is temporary and what has eternal significance. The things we develop physically are valuable, but our spiritual growth concerns something far greater. 

This is the true foundation of healthy discipline. If our spiritual lives are not in order, then ultimately, nothing else matters in comparison. We can develop impressive abilities, maintain excellent physical fitness, and accomplish all kinds of things in this world, but none of those achievements can substitute for spiritual maturity. That's why Scripture places such a strong emphasis on spiritual discipline and why participation in the church is not presented as an optional part of the Christian life. 

Just One Sunday? 

Consider Hebrews 10:24–25: 

"Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works. And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near." 

Notice what the passage actually emphasizes. Believers are instructed to motivate one another toward love and good works, to continue meeting together, and to encourage one another as the day of Christ's return approaches. Gathering isn't simply a religious activity that happens to occupy a particular time on the calendar. It's part of the spiritual discipline and mutual encouragement that Scripture expects from the Christian community. 

Now, one missed Sunday isn't the point. People get sick, people travel, and people have legitimate responsibilities. Some genuinely have little or no control over their work schedules. Healthcare workers, first responders, hospitality workers, and caregivers often face obligations that other people don't. Life happens, and sometimes people simply make bad decisions. We're not talking about maintaining an attendance ledger or pretending that every absence demonstrates some kind of spiritual failure. 

The concern in Hebrews is the habit of neglecting meeting together. That's an important distinction because what we occasionally miss is one thing, but what we consistently move tells us what comes first. One exception rarely defines us. Repeated exceptions eventually become priorities. 

And that's why I think the reasoning behind the expression "It's just one Sunday" deserves closer examination. That argument might make more sense if you gathered with your church five days a week. But if you're only gathering with your church family one day a week, or perhaps two at most, then consistently treating that time as negotiable becomes a much bigger problem. 

Think about how much time we devote to other activities. We make room for work, training, entertainment, recreation, and all kinds of commitments that require consistent participation. Many of those things occupy several days of our week, while gathering with the church may require only one or two. 

So comparatively speaking, the time commitment we're talking about is already relatively small. Yet Scripture places tremendous importance on the spiritual growth, encouragement, and fellowship that happen when believers gather together. 

And that's the question we need to ask ourselves: If consistency is essential to growth in nearly every other area of life, why would we imagine that spiritual growth works differently? 

When Good Things Become Competing Kingdoms 

Good things can become excuses, and Jesus gives us an uncomfortable picture of this in Luke 14:16–24. He tells a parable about people who are invited to a great banquet, but when the time comes, they begin making excuses. One has purchased a field, another has bought oxen, and another has gotten married. Notice that none of these things is inherently sinful. Property, work, and marriage are all good things. But in the parable, these good things become excuses for missing something far greater. 

That gives us an important principle: Some of the strongest competitors with Jesus aren't bad things. They're good things that we allow to become first things. In Part 15, we learned that a gift can become an idol. Now, in Part 16, we're seeing that a good thing can become a competing kingdom. The problem isn't necessarily the activity itself, but the place we've allowed it to occupy in our lives. 

When Religion Becomes an Excuse for Disobedience 

There's another danger we need to watch for, and that's when religion itself becomes a justification for disobedience. We've discussed before how Christians sometimes make the statement that Christianity isn't about religion. But when we actually examine the book of James, we discover that religion can be a very good thing. James 1:27 specifically describes the kind of religion that is pure and acceptable before God. 

And remember, what Jesus repeatedly denounced wasn't religion itself. He denounced hypocrisy. He confronted people who presented themselves as religious while their actual behavior contradicted what they claimed to believe. We need to be careful about doing the same thing—going around telling everyone that Jesus is the most important thing in our lives when, if we're examining our priorities, maybe He isn't. 

Think back to the two examples we've already encountered in Kings. Jeroboam essentially says, "It's too much trouble." The old prophet in 1 Kings 13 says, "God told me something different." These are two different justifications, but they produce the same result. God has already given instructions, and somebody finds a reason to alter them. 

And we still hear variations of those arguments today. "Well, I know what Scripture says, but..." Or more specifically, "I know what Hebrews 10 says about gathering together, but..." Then come the explanations: "God understands." "I prayed about it." "I feel at peace about it." "A Christian friend told me." "My pastor said." "My church teaches." 

Now, none of those statements automatically outranks what God has already said. Prayer is important, Christian counsel can be valuable, and pastors certainly have a responsibility to teach Scripture. But none of those things gives us permission to disregard what Scripture actually teaches. 

Remember the man of God in 1 Kings 13. He resisted a king, refused a reward, and initially followed God's instructions. But when another prophet claimed to have received a different message from God, he believed him. He resisted the king, but he fell for a religious voice. 

That's the warning. A spiritual-sounding voice does not automatically outrank Scripture. We need to know what God has instructed us to do and follow those instructions, rather than searching for religious-sounding reasons to do something else. 

What Kind of Church Are We Trying to Build? 

Now let's consider what we're actually trying to build here at C3 Church. In Acts 2:42, we're told that "all the believers devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching, and to fellowship, and to sharing in meals, and to prayer." These four practices—teaching, fellowship, breaking bread, and prayer—describe the kind of church we're trying to be. Not a place where people simply show up, watch a motivational presentation, and leave anonymously, but a genuine church family. 

And think about what each of those practices requires. Teaching requires people. Fellowship requires people. Breaking bread requires people. Prayer requires people. Ultimately, family requires presence. You cannot deeply fellowship with people you rarely see, and you cannot carry someone's burdens if nobody knows what they're going through. You cannot truly become part of a family while remaining permanently on the periphery. 

That's why, when someone is baptized here at C3, I ask whether they will continue in the apostles' teaching, the fellowship, the breaking of bread, and prayer. Those aren't simply traditions we've invented for our church. They're biblical practices that characterized the earliest Christian community, and they're important enough that we include them in the commitment associated with baptism. 

Yet sometimes people drift away from church, stop participating in those practices, and eventually complain that everything in their lives seems to be falling apart. And I have to wonder: Did you continue in what you committed to? Did you continue in the teaching, the prayers, and the fellowship? These are among the very things Scripture gives us to help us grow spiritually, encourage one another, and remain connected to the body of Christ. 

The point isn't that attending a church service guarantees a trouble-free life. It's that we're not meant to live the Christian life disconnected from the family God has given us. Church attendance is not the goal. Church family is the goal, and family requires showing up. Relationships require presence. 

The Church Needs You 

But there's another dimension to this that I think Christians often overlook. Remember how the New Testament describes the church: it is the body of Christ. That isn't simply a clever illustration. It's the language Scripture uses to explain the relationship between Christ and His people, which means we cannot simply separate Jesus from His church. The majority of the New Testament was written to churches or addressed circumstances involving the Christian community. Its instructions repeatedly assume that believers are living, learning, worshiping, and growing together. 

Sometimes people will say, "I don't need church." But perhaps there's another question we should be asking: What if the church needs you? 

When we turn to 1 Corinthians 12 and Ephesians 4, we discover that the New Testament goes even further than telling Christians they need the church. It teaches that the church needs them. 

In 1 Corinthians 12:12–27, Paul describes the church as a body made up of many different parts, each with its own function. Although the parts are different, they belong to one body. Paul explains that the eye cannot say to the hand, "I don't need you," and the head cannot say to the feet, "I don't need you." Then he brings the illustration directly to the church, declaring in verse 27, "All of you together are Christ's body, and each of you is a part of it." 

That means participation in the church isn't only about what you receive. It's also about what you bring. Your gifts matter, your prayers matter, your encouragement matters, and your presence matters. Every member of Christ's body has a part to play, and the rest of the body is affected when that part is missing. 

We understand this principle physically. If an important part of someone's body is missing, the entire body experiences the loss. Other parts may compensate, but nobody looks at an amputated body and says, "That's fine. That part really didn't matter." Paul makes precisely the opposite argument. Every part matters, and the health of the body depends upon the participation of its members. 

So perhaps instead of coming to church and asking only, "Did I get anything out of church today?" we should also ask, "Who needed me there?" Who needed encouragement? Who needed prayer? Who needed somebody to notice that they were struggling? Who needed the particular gift God placed in me? 

Those questions change the way we think about gathering with other believers. Church is no longer simply an event we attend because we expect to receive something from it. It's a family to which we belong and a body in which we have responsibilities toward one another. 

Paul develops this further in Ephesians 4:11–16, explaining that Christ gives gifts to His people to equip the saints and build up the body of Christ. The goal is spiritual maturity, and Paul describes the body growing and becoming healthy "as each part does its own special work." 

Notice what that means. The church doesn't become mature merely because the pastor preaches a good sermon. Good teaching is important, but the body grows when each part does its part. Every believer has something to contribute to the spiritual health and maturity of the whole congregation. 

You need the body, and the body needs you. 

And that's why gathering matters. 

Which Kingdom Comes First? 

And so we arrive at the question that brings everything we've examined together: Which Kingdom comes first? 

Jeroboam was thinking, "If I obey God, I might lose my kingdom." But Jesus tells us something entirely different in Matthew 6:33: "Seek the Kingdom of God above all else." 

Consider the contrast. Jeroboam alters worship to protect an earthly kingdom, while Jesus refuses earthly kingdoms when Satan offers them on compromised terms. Jeroboam tells the people, "It is too much trouble." Jesus tells His followers to take up their cross and follow Him. 

Christianity was never built around convenience, but neither was it built around religious misery. It was built around the conviction that Jesus is worth more than whatever else competes for first place in our lives. 

So we need to ask ourselves honestly: What gets the prime space in my life, and what gets the leftovers? Look at your calendar, your work, your children's activities, sports, travel, politics, money, recreation, church, prayer, Scripture, and relationships. Consider how much time and attention these things receive and which commitments consistently take precedence over others. The question isn't simply, "Did I miss one Sunday?" The more important question is, "What pattern am I building?" 

Parents, think about what your family calendar is teaching your children. We can tell our children that Jesus comes first, but what are they learning from the priorities we consistently demonstrate? Workers, some of you genuinely have little or no control over your schedules, and I don't want you carrying unnecessary guilt over circumstances you cannot change. But where you do have choices, what do those choices reveal about your priorities? 

And when it comes to church, don't merely attend. Participate. Get to know people and allow them to get to know you. Eat together, pray together, serve, encourage one another, and help carry each other's burdens. Become the family that the New Testament describes. And sometimes, instead of asking what you got out of a particular Sunday, ask yourself, "Who needed me there?" 

You Can Change the Pattern 

Now, I don't want anyone leaving here thinking, "Well, I've already messed this up, so I guess I should just feel guilty about it." That's not the point of this message. 

Remember Jeroboam's tragedy. It wasn't simply that he made some bad choices. His tragedy was that warning after warning came, and he refused to turn. He witnessed extraordinary demonstrations of God's power, received opportunities to recognize his disobedience, and still continued down the same path. 

So if Scripture exposes something in your life that needs to change, then change it. Turn. Rearrange your schedule. Reconsider your priorities. Change the habits that have been pulling you away from the things God has called you to do. That's repentance. It isn't simply recognizing that something is wrong; it's responding to that recognition by changing direction. 

You don't have to defend a pattern merely because it's always been your pattern, and you certainly don't have to wait until everything falls apart before deciding to change it. 

Jesus Never Asked to Fit Around Our Kingdom 

Culture doesn't have to convince Christians to abandon Jesus. It only has to convince us that Jesus should fit around everything else. We can continue identifying ourselves as Christians, participating in religious activities, and professing our faith while gradually rearranging our lives so that everything else determines how much room remains for Christ. 

But Jesus is not another item on the calendar. He is King. 

And that brings us back to the three kings we've been considering. Rehoboam used people to strengthen his kingdom. Jeroboam altered worship to preserve his kingdom. But Jesus gave Himself for His people and invited us into His Kingdom. 

Think about how radically different that is. Rehoboam's leadership was about making people serve him. Jeroboam's decisions were driven by his determination to protect his own power. But Jesus gave Himself for the very people He came to save. His Kingdom calls us away from self-preservation and competing loyalties into a life centered upon Him. 

So the final question isn't merely whether you went to church this week. The deeper question is, what kingdom is actually setting your priorities? 

Is it a political kingdom? A career kingdom? A sports kingdom? A kingdom built around comfort and convenience? Is it simply my kingdom, where everything ultimately revolves around what I want and what works best for me? 

Or is it the Kingdom of God? 

Because convenient Christianity eventually becomes Christianity rearranged around something other than Christ. And that's precisely what we've been watching happen throughout this story. Jeroboam didn't necessarily want to abandon religion. He wanted religion to accommodate the kingdom he was trying to protect. 

But Jesus never asked to fit around our kingdom. 

He invited us into His. 

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©️Copyright 2026 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.

Scandalous Scripture: The Bible We Don't Read in Church

Part 16 - Convenient Christianity

Reader's Version

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