Because the world needs truth, and truth is found in Jesus.
Author: Believers of Biblical Truth
At Believers of Biblical Truth, we are wholly committed to preaching the unfiltered, uncompromised truth of God’s Word. Our ministry, firmly grounded in scripture, relies on the guidance of the Holy Spirit—not the influences of a sinful world. As we present the Bible’s teachings, we do so in the spirit of 2 Timothy 3:16, which reminds us that “all scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.” Through each message, we seek to present the truth in a way that is faithful to God’s inerrant Word and pleasing in His sight, guided by the Holy Spirit who dwells within us, as instructed in John 16:13: “Howbeit when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth.”
Our sermons are not designed to entertain or tickle ears; they are solemn presentations of God’s direction and commands for our lives. In today’s world, where truth is often distorted to fit human desires, we emphasize reliance on the Holy Spirit and scripture alone. We heed the warnings of Ephesians 6:11-12 to “put on the whole armour of God,” that we may “stand against the wiles of the devil,” choosing to remain steadfastly in the Word, rejecting Satan’s deception, and grounding ourselves in God’s eternal truth.
We believe in using scriptural authority to address life’s toughest issues, with an unwavering dedication to God’s truth. Each sermon is followed by a round-table discussion where our dedicated team addresses questions with the utmost care, ensuring that every answer reflects God’s wisdom. We invite all who are seeking clarity to email us at thebbt2021@gmail.com, where questions are welcomed, encouraged, and answered thoughtfully by our team.
This ministry is a place for growth, correction, and alignment with God’s Word, as we strive to fulfill the Great Commission (Matthew 28:19-20) by spreading the gospel boldly. We recognize the Bible’s call not to engage in foolish arguments but rather to focus on edifying one another and upholding the truth. As 2 Timothy 2:23-24 counsels, we are to “avoid foolish and unlearned questions, knowing that they do gender strifes,” and to serve as “the servant of the Lord,” who “must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient.”
The Bible’s truths are absolute, not subject to human desires or interpretations. We stand by the conviction that “truth is not hate,” even if it brings discomfort. Hebrews 4:12 reminds us that “the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword,” and we believe that its power should be wielded in love to draw others to the cross, not as a weapon of condemnation but as an invitation to eternal life in Jesus Christ. In a world often at odds with the gospel, we are compelled to preach the unchangeable truth, recognizing that the only relationship of lasting value is our relationship with Jesus Christ.
Our virtual church is enriched by the insights of great theologians who have profoundly influenced Christian thought, including Calvin, Wesley, Gill, Henry, Luther, Edwards, Ellicott, Spurgeon, Baucham, Grudem, Barnes, Clarke, Benson, MacArthur, Graham, N.T. Wright, Keener, Fee, Bruce, McKnight, deSilva, and Sproul, along with others who have faithfully articulated the gospel. Though we rely on these wise voices, our foundation remains the Bible itself, and we uphold the teachings of those who reinforce its truths.
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At Believers of Biblical Truth, we are here to spread the gospel with clarity, conviction, and reverence. Prepare to be challenged by God’s Word as we seek to “walk in truth” (3 John 1:4) and draw closer to Christ in spirit and in truth.
Colossians chapter 3 verse 9: Lie not one to another, seeing that ye have put off the old man with his deeds:
Verse Context
The Apostle Paul, writing from a Roman prison around AD 60–62, addresses a small congregation in the city of Colossae, located in the region of Phrygia in Asia Minor—modern-day southwestern Turkey. The church was under a subtle but dangerous threat from a blend of false teachings. These included Jewish ritualism, mystical asceticism, and early philosophical errors that would later develop into full-blown Gnosticism. Paul’s answer to all of these corruptions was not debate, but the preeminence of Jesus Christ. He declares that in Christ dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily (Colossians chapter 2 verse 9), and that believers are complete in Him.
In chapter 3, Paul shifts from doctrinal foundation to practical transformation. He opens the chapter by commanding the Colossians to “seek those things which are above,” and to “set [their] affection on things above, not on things on the earth” (Colossians chapter 3 verses 1–2). This heavenly mindset is not wishful thinking—it is rooted in the fact that the believer is spiritually risen with Christ, and is now called to live in a way that reflects that new life.
By the time we reach verse 9, Paul has already instructed them to put off several sins that defined their past lives: anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, and filthy communication (Colossians chapter 3 verse 8). Then he gives the command, “Lie not one to another.” This is not mere etiquette—it is a theological imperative based on the truth of conversion. Paul grounds this command by stating, “seeing that ye have put off the old man with his deeds.” This “old man” refers to the former, sinful identity of the believer prior to salvation.
The 18th-century Baptist theologian John Gill taught that this “old man” is the “old Adam, the old self, the sinful nature,” and he emphasizes that putting off the old man happens in union with Christ’s death. According to Gill, just as Christ died and rose again, so the believer must die to the old nature and rise to newness of life. Therefore, lying is not just a bad habit—it’s an offense to the resurrected identity of the Christian. It drags the believer back into the grave of the old life they have already left behind.
In harmony with this, Matthew Henry, a Puritan commentator, explains that lying not only “corrupts communication,” but it also “destroys love and dissolves society.” In other words, deceit undermines the very relationships the gospel came to redeem. The Colossian church, like all Christian communities, was called to unity. Falsehood fractures the body of Christ. Truth binds it together.
The warning deepens when we consider Albert Barnes, a 19th-century Presbyterian theologian, who writes that truth is “essential to religion,” while falsehood is of “the very essence of depravity.” Barnes notes that to lie is to betray the holy calling of the Christian. It reveals not spiritual growth, but the rotting remnants of the old man still clinging to the heart. Therefore, Paul’s instruction in verse 9 is more than a behavioral correction—it is a spiritual diagnosis. If a person claims Christ but habitually lives in falsehood, it reveals that either they are resisting sanctification, or worse, they have never put off the old man at all.
Broader Context
Colossians chapter 3 verse 9 sits within a deeply practical section of Paul’s epistle, where he calls believers to live out the transformation that has taken place within them through union with Christ. The first two chapters focus on doctrinal correction—defending the full deity and sufficiency of Christ. Paul labors to dismantle false philosophies (Colossians chapter 2 verse 8), legalistic shadows (Colossians chapter 2 verses 16–17), and mysticism that claims hidden spiritual knowledge apart from Christ. The Colossians were at risk of trading the substance of Christ for religious systems that looked holy but lacked saving power.
In contrast, Colossians chapter 3 begins with a powerful call to focus on heavenly priorities: “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above…” (Colossians chapter 3 verse 1). This isn’t poetic language—it’s a doctrinal claim: believers have died with Christ and are now spiritually alive with Him. Their identity is hidden in Christ, and they await the day when that reality will be revealed in glory (Colossians chapter 3 verse 3–4).
That identity demands a new way of living. So beginning in verse 5, Paul tells the Colossians to mortify (put to death) sins like fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection (disordered passions), and covetousness. These are not personality flaws—they are called what they truly are: the “members” of the old man that must be slain. Paul is teaching that Christianity is not about merely adding religious practices to your life. It is about putting off the old life altogether and putting on Christ.
That’s what makes the command in verse 9 so significant: “Lie not one to another, seeing that ye have put off the old man with his deeds.” This verse sits right in the middle of this “change of clothing” metaphor. Paul is describing a spiritual wardrobe exchange. The old man—filled with deceit, anger, lust, and idolatry—is to be discarded like a rotting garment. The new man—created after the image of Christ—is to be worn with humility, kindness, and love.
In the verses that follow, Paul expands the picture. In Colossians chapter 3 verse 10, he says the believer has “put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him.” This is a direct echo of Genesis—God is restoring His image in fallen man through Christ. In verse 11, Paul emphasizes that this new identity transcends race, culture, class, and background. In Christ, “there is neither Greek nor Jew… but Christ is all, and in all.” That unity depends on truth. Without truth, there can be no trust. And without trust, there can be no unity in the body of Christ.
This emphasis on truth in speech and conduct is not isolated to Colossians. Paul echoes the same theme in Ephesians chapter 4 verse 25, where he writes: “Wherefore putting away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbour: for we are members one of another.” The same pattern appears there—put off the old, put on the new. And in both letters, lying is exposed as a sin that tears at the very fabric of the Christian community.
It is also worth noting that this practical teaching flows directly out of the Christ-centered theology Paul has built. Colossians is not a “rule book”—it’s a Christology. The only reason believers can “put off the old man” is because they have been spiritually raised with Christ. And the only reason we can live differently now is because we have been made new in Him.
Therefore, lying is not a mistake—it is a theological contradiction. It denies what Christ has done. It speaks the language of the old man while claiming to wear the garments of the new. Paul’s message to the Colossians—and to us—is that such hypocrisy has no place in the lives of those who have been truly transformed.
Application
Appreciating God’s Greatness
Colossians chapter 3 verse 9 reminds us of the transforming power of God’s grace. The fact that believers are commanded not to lie is not merely a moral expectation—it’s a celebration of divine change. God does not leave us as we were. He doesn’t clean up the old man; He kills him and creates a new man in Christ. This is a display of God’s greatness not just in creation, but in re-creation.
It reveals that God is truthful by nature. He cannot lie (Titus chapter 1 verse 2), and His Word is truth (John chapter 17 verse 17). When He saves a person, He imparts that very nature into them—not in perfection, but in growing likeness. We serve a God who not only tells the truth but makes people into truth-tellers. That is greatness worth revering.
For the Believer
Paul’s command—“Lie not one to another”—is not optional for Christians. It is a non-negotiable expression of the new life we’ve received. Lying is not just a bad habit that hurts relationships. It is a sin that slanders the name of Christ and misrepresents who we now are. When we lie, we are speaking with the voice of the “old man,” a man who should no longer be walking among the living.
Believers must recognize that lying, in all its forms—half-truths, exaggerations, convenient omissions, false impressions—is a violation of our identity in Jesus. It does not matter whether the lie is told to protect feelings, save face, gain advantage, or avoid trouble. Christ died to make us truth-bearers, not manipulators.
Call to Action
Examine your speech. Are there areas where deceit still lingers? Do you find yourself adjusting the truth to avoid conflict, impress others, or hide weakness? The Holy Spirit calls you today to repent of every lie—spoken or unspoken—and walk in the integrity of the new man. Confess your sin, and ask God to conform your heart more fully to the image of His Son, in whom is no lie. Then go and make restitution if needed—truth heals, but only when it is spoken.
For the Unbeliever
If you do not yet know Christ, Colossians chapter 3 verse 9 speaks to more than just morality—it exposes your need for a new identity. Lying is not only wrong; it is a symptom of spiritual death. According to Jesus, the devil is “a liar, and the father of it” (John chapter 8 verse 44). If your life is marked by deceit—whether small and subtle or bold and blatant—it reveals your true spiritual condition: you are still living under the rule of the “old man,” which is the rule of sin.
But there is hope. God offers more than forgiveness—He offers transformation. You can be made new today. You can put off the old man, with all his lies and lusts, and put on the new man, which is created in righteousness and true holiness (Ephesians chapter 4 verse 24). That transformation begins with repentance—turning away from sin—and placing your trust in Jesus Christ, who died and rose again to make you new.
If you’ve been living in lies, even pretending to be religious when you know your heart is still unchanged, today is the day of salvation. Come to Christ—not to become a better person, but to become a new person.
Final Encouragement
Lying is not a harmless flaw—it is a spiritual fingerprint of the old man we once were. But the beauty of Colossians chapter 3 verse 9 is in what it assumes to be true of the believer: “Ye have put off the old man with his deeds.” This is not just a command—it is a reminder of who you are now. In Christ, you are not a liar. You are a new creation. The old life of deceit, manipulation, and falsehood no longer defines you. So when the temptation comes to protect yourself with a lie, or bend the truth for personal gain, remember this: That’s not who you are anymore. You’ve put that man in the grave. Speak truth, walk in truth, and reflect the One who is the Truth. Let your mouth agree with your heart—and let your heart be rooted in Christ.
Encouraging Prayer
Father, thank You for making us new in Christ. Thank You that we no longer have to live in the shadow of the old man, chained to lies and sin. Help us today to speak truth in love, to walk in integrity, and to reflect Your holy character in every word we say. Where we have fallen short, convict us. Where we are weak, strengthen us. And may our lives speak louder than our lips—testifying that Jesus is Lord, and we are His. In His name we pray, Amen.
Closing
If you’ve found these daily verses encouraging, enlightening, or fruitful, please consider helping us spread the truth and light of God’s Word by subscribing to the blog and YouTube channels and liking and following the Facebook page. Most of all, share Believers of Biblical Truth and our links with others who may need the sermons and daily teachings just as much as we do.
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The first human emotion recorded after the fall wasn’t love, joy, or hope—it was hate. The moment we broke fellowship with God, we turned against each other. In Genesis chapter 4, Cain and Abel brought offerings to the Lord. Abel brought the firstlings of his flock—his best. Cain brought an offering of the fruit of the ground—something, but not necessarily his best.
“And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the Lord. And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. And the Lord had respect unto Abel and to his offering: But unto Cain and to his offering he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell.” (Genesis 4:3–5)
Cain wanted acceptance without obedience. He didn’t give in faith—he gave what he wanted, how he wanted, and expected God to bless it. When God rejected it, instead of repenting, Cain got angry. But his anger wasn’t directed at his own sin—it was aimed at Abel, the one who did right. This is the seed of hate. It is pride wounded by truth. It is rebellion cloaked in religion. Cain’s response is the same we see today—people get angry not at their failure to obey but at the righteous who expose it.
“And the Lord said unto Cain, Why art thou wroth? and why is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted?” (Genesis 4:6–7)
God offered Cain a way back—a chance to repent. But Cain hardened his heart. Hate grew. And hate gave birth to murder:
“And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.” (Genesis 4:8)
Cain killed the righteous because he hated being exposed, as well as a few more emotions I’m sure. That same spirit is alive today. Want me to continue from here with PART TWO rewritten in depth?
Fast forward to the New Testament. Jesus picks up where Genesis left off—only now He digs even deeper. In the Sermon on the Mount, He does something that startled His listeners. He raises the bar—not to add to the Law, but to fulfill it with divine clarity. He shows thatmurder doesn’t begin with the weapon; it begins in the heart.
“Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment: But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment…” (Matthew 5:21–22)
Here, Jesus is not lessening the seriousness of physical murder. He’s revealing the seriousness of internal hatred. Hate is the seed of murder—and to harbor it, protect it, or excuse it is to carry within you the very thing that leads to destruction. He continues:
“…and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.” (Matthew 5:22b)
To call someone “Raca” (Ray-kah) was to treat them with open contempt—worthless, empty, beneath you. “Thou fool” was a moral condemnation—casting someone off as corrupt or unsalvageable. Jesus wasn’t saying name-calling alone condemns, but that these words come from a heart of hate, a heart void of mercy, a heart that has already committed the act spiritually. Jesus is stripping away superficial religion. He’s telling His listeners—and us today—that it’s not enough to simply avoid killing someone. If your heart harbors rage, resentment, or contempt, you are guilty already. That’s not hyperbole. That’s divine judgment. It’s not the act—it’s the intention, the posture of the soul. And that’s why so many in the modern world—and modern church—are blind to their sin. They say:
“I never hurt anyone.”
“I didn’t act on it.”
“I just have a temper.”
But Jesus says that hate itself—quiet, internal, even unspoken—places you in danger of hell fire. He wasn’t being soft. He wasn’t being gentle. He was being holy. Jesus doesn’t stop at identifying the root of murder in the heart—He gives a clear directive on what must be done about it. He says:
“Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee; Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.” (Matthew 5:23–24)
In Jesus’ time, the altar was the most sacred space. To offer a gift was to approach God in worship, often at great cost. But Jesus says: stop everything—even your offering to God—if your heart is not right with your brother. This is radical. He is declaring that God is not interested in your worship if you have unresolved hate, bitterness, or offense. Reconciliation takes priority over ritual. Too many Christians come to church full of praise on their lips but poison in their hearts:
Harboring grudges.
Nursing bitterness.
Pretending things are fine while ignoring those they’ve hurt—or been hurt by.
God says, “Go fix it. Then come to Me.” Why? Because you cannot worship a God of love while hating someone He made in His image. You can’t bring an offering with clean hands if your heart is dirty. This verse is not about performance. It’s about spiritual integrity. God doesn’t need your gift. He wants your heart—and that includes a heart that’s willing to forgive, confess, and restore peace.
Jesus doesn’t end His teaching with the altar. He pushes it further—into the courtroom. He gives a metaphor that would have made perfect sense to His Jewish audience, but also applies just as deeply to us today:
“Agree with thine adversary quickly, whiles thou art in the way with him; lest at any time the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison. Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing.” (Matthew 5:25–26)
This was a real-world scenario—if you owed a debt or had a dispute, the offended party could take you to court. If the matter reached the judge and you were found guilty, you would be imprisoned until every last cent was paid. The “farthing” mentioned was a Roman coin of extremely small value—less than a penny. Jesus is telling us plainly: Don’t let unresolved sin follow you to the courtroom of God. This isn’t just legal advice. It’s spiritual truth. God is the Judge, and if we carry hate, bitterness, or unrepented offense all the way to judgment, we will pay for it fully. There will be no early release, no second chances beyond the grave. This is not about salvation by works. It’s about proof of salvation by a changed heart. The one who knows Christ will seek reconciliation. The one who clings to hate has not known Him. You cannot preach Jesus and carry unrepented hate. You cannot take communion and carry unresolved offense. You cannot ask God for blessing while refusing to bless your brother. The courtroom warning is urgent because judgment is real—and it’s coming. If we don’t deal with the sins of the heart now, we will be held accountable for every farthing of guilt. God is gracious—but He is also just. He offers forgiveness now, not later. Now is the time to make things right. Now is the time to cast out the anger, the grudge, the bitterness, and return to the altar with clean hands and a clean heart. Jesus connects hate not just to action, but to speech. In Matthew chapter 12, He addresses the Pharisees after they accuse Him of casting out demons by the power of Satan. His response is sharp, and it exposes a vital truth:
“O generation of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things? for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” (Matthew 12:34)
Jesus wasn’t being politically correct. He wasn’t sugarcoating anything. He was calling evil exactly what it was—and He said it loud enough for everyone to hear. His words weren’t hateful, but they were piercing. And they reveal something critical: what comes out of your mouth exposes what lives in your heart. You don’t have to commit the act. If your speech is filled with sarcasm, contempt, slander, gossip, or verbal violence, you’ve already proven what’s inside. Hate has taken residence. This is especially important for those who claim Christ. We live in a time when politicians, preachers, and people in the pews call themselves Christians while speaking with venom:
Condemning their enemies with their mouths.
Justifying insults because of disagreement.
Pretending righteous anger while harboring unrighteous hate.
Jesus says that our words will either justify us or condemn us. (Matthew 12:37)
Too many today—on both the political right and left—speak as if hate is a weapon given to us by God. But it is not. God’s people are called to speak truth in love, not in wrath. That doesn’t mean softness. It means holiness. The person who cannot control their tongue has not yet surrendered their heart. The one who mocks, scorns, and lashes out while claiming the name of Christ is a hypocrite—the very kind Jesus exposed. So if we would be faithful, if we would be holy, if we would be true followers of Christ—we must watch our mouths, because they testify of our hearts. Perhaps nowhere is the seriousness of heart-condition more evident than at the Lord’s Table. Communion is not just a symbolic act—it is a sacred moment where we proclaim the death of Jesus Christ and examine our standing with Him.
Paul gives this warning:
“Wherefore whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup. For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body. For this cause many are weak and sickly among you, and many sleep.” (1 Corinthians 11:27–30)
This is not figurative. Paul says plainly that some in the early church were sick—and some died—because they approached the Lord’s Table with unrepentant hearts. This includes unresolved conflict, unforgiveness, bitterness, or hate. The table is holy. To partake of it while clinging to sin is to mock Christ’s sacrifice. It’s not about being sinless. None of us are. But we must come with a clean essence—a heart that has dealt honestly with known sin, that is not hiding or holding grudges. If the Holy Spirit brings someone to your mind—someone you’ve hurt or refused to forgive—that’s not a distraction. That’s your warning. Communion is a mirror. It’s where we look into the suffering of Christ and ask, Am I honoring what He died to free me from? Hate has no place here. Bitterness has no seat at this table. Jesus gave His body so that we could be made whole—not so that we could go on wounding others with our hearts full of contempt. If there is hate in your heart—deal with it before you eat the bread or drink the cup. Forgive. Confess. Reconcile. Come to the table clean—not perfect, but surrendered. The time for excuses is over. The time for religious appearance is over. Jesus did not die for us to live with hate in our hearts. He died to make us new—people marked by love, truth, mercy, and forgiveness.
If you’ve seen yourself anywhere in this sermon—in Cain’s jealousy, in the Pharisees’ hypocrisy, in the bitter heart that refuses reconciliation—then hear this: there is still time to repent. The grace of God is greater than your sin, but it must be received with humility. Drop the pride. Lay down the anger. Go to your brother. Forgive the offense. Confess the sin. Let the blood of Jesus cleanse not just your reputation—but your heart. We do not get to preach Christ while hating others. We do not get to claim communion while dividing the body. We do not get to speak of heaven while speaking curses under our breath.
Church—it is time to clean house. It is time to make things right. It is time to be honest with God and honest with one another. Because hate is murder. And the heart that holds on to it is a heart that condemns itself.
If this message has stirred your heart—do not ignore it. Let it drive you to action. Let it bring you to your knees. Let it heal what’s been broken. Because the Lord is not far from those who seek Him with a broken and contrite heart.
If you’ve found this sermon encouraging, enlightening, or fruitful, please consider helping us spread the truth and light of God’s Word by subscribing to the blog and YouTube channels and liking and following the Facebook page. Most of all, share Believers of Biblical Truth and our links with others who may need the sermons and daily teachings just as much as we do.
You are loved—so much in fact, that we want you to know and be Believers of Biblical Truth.
“No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”
Verse Context:
This verse is part of Jesus Christ’s Sermon on the Mount, delivered to His disciples and the crowds gathered in Galilee. The Gospel of Matthew records this extensive teaching between chapters 5 through 7. Matthew, a former tax collector turned disciple, wrote primarily to a Jewish audience, emphasizing Jesus as the Messiah and fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy.
This particular verse comes in the middle of a section where Jesus is addressing treasures in heaven (Matthew chapter 6 verses 19–34), warning His listeners not to chase after earthly wealth and possessions, but to prioritize their spiritual well-being. The word mammon refers not just to money, but to wealth as a rival god—something that enslaves and competes for the heart’s devotion.
The keyword “serve” here implies complete allegiance or slavery, not mere employment. In the culture of first-century Judea under Roman occupation, the audience understood what slavery and ownership meant—this was not casual labor, but total ownership of the person by the master. Jesus draws a spiritual parallel: just as a slave cannot obey two different masters with equal loyalty, so too the soul cannot divide its loyalty between God and materialism.
Theologian John Gill (1697–1771, Baptist) comments that this verse doesn’t mean one cannot have possessions, but that one cannot be a true servant of God if the pursuit of wealth governs the heart. Matthew Henry (1662–1714, Presbyterian) adds that “mammon” is used here to represent all worldly wealth when it becomes an idol—a heart competitor with God.
Broader Context:
The Sermon on the Mount (Matthew chapters 5 through 7) is the most comprehensive recorded teaching of Jesus in one continuous message. This section in chapter 6 focuses on practicing righteousness—not just avoiding evil, but actively choosing purity of heart, prayer, forgiveness, fasting, and trusting God over worldly systems.
This particular verse comes just after Jesus tells the people to “lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth” (Matthew chapter 6 verse 19), and before He addresses anxiety and trust in God’s provision (Matthew chapter 6 verses 25–34). The connection is clear: a heart divided between spiritual pursuits and material ambitions cannot thrive in the Kingdom of Heaven. This is not merely advice—it is a command to choose whom you serve.
Application:
Appreciating God’s Greatness:
This verse displays God’s rightful place as our sole Master, revealing His authority over our affections and our ultimate loyalty. God does not share His throne with idols. His greatness is not only seen in His power, but in the demand for undivided devotion, for He alone is worthy of worship and trust.
For the Believer:
This verse challenges us to examine where our allegiance truly lies. Do we say we serve God, but in practice serve our careers, bank accounts, or the approval of others? Jesus’ words force a confrontation between discipleship and idolatry.
Call to Action:
Believers must actively dethrone mammon—this may mean reevaluating spending habits, the way we measure success, or even the motivations behind our prayers. Who or what rules your decisions? Today is the day to reaffirm that Christ alone is Lord.
For the Unbeliever:
If you’re not walking with Christ, this verse still speaks: you are serving something—whether you realize it or not. The illusion of neutrality is a lie. Everyone worships something. The question is—does what you worship have the power to save you? Only the true and living God does. He doesn’t just want part of you; He calls for everything—because only He can give you everything that matters eternally.
Final Encouragement:
Matthew chapter 6 verse 24 is a piercing reminder that our lives always bend toward some kind of service. There is no neutral ground. If we are not intentionally choosing to serve God, we will inevitably find ourselves enslaved to something lesser. Jesus doesn’t offer us the option of divided loyalty—He offers us something better: singleness of heart, clarity of purpose, and freedom found only in Him.
If you’ve found these daily verses encouraging, enlightening, or fruitful, please consider helping us spread the truth and light of God’s Word by subscribing to the blog and YouTube channels and liking and following the Facebook page. Most of all, share Believers of Biblical Truth and our links with others who may need the sermons and daily teachings just as much as we do.
You are loved—so much in fact, that we want you to know and be Believers of Biblical Truth.
9Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. 10For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.
“Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.” With this line, Solomon begins a shift away from his prior reflections on isolation, envy, and oppression, offering instead a rare but powerful word of hope in the form of wisdom. The statement “two are better than one” is not merely an observation—it’s a conclusion based on his examination of the futility of man’s labor under the sun. The Hebrew construction of “better” here implies a comparative advantage rooted in benefit and strength. The phrase that follows, “they have a good reward for their labour,” draws attention to the word “reward,” which is the Hebrew word sakar (sah-KAHR). This term refers to wages, gain, or benefit and would often be used to describe a harvest or a payment received in return for effort. But Solomon is not only talking about wages; he’s talking about fruitfulness in every aspect of life—emotional, spiritual, relational. When two people work together, the outcome isn’t just increased efficiency but multiplied fulfillment. The shared burden produces a shared joy, and the partnership creates a kind of strength that no one can manufacture alone.
“For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow.” This portion of the verse reveals the heart of Solomon’s wisdom. He is not presenting a hypothetical; he is preparing the reader for reality. The use of the word “fall” comes from the Hebrew root naphal (naw-FAHL), which refers to more than just tripping. It encompasses collapse, failure, ruin, even death. It was used to describe soldiers falling in battle, or individuals falling into sin or distress. Solomon uses it here to capture the full range of human vulnerability—emotional, physical, moral. Everyone falls, sooner or later, and when that happens, the presence of another person—a fellow, a companion—becomes not just helpful but life-saving. The phrase “lift up his fellow” describes the act of restoration. It’s not passive sympathy—it’s active redemption. It is the reaching down of a faithful friend to raise the broken, to restore the weary, to reestablish the fallen. This is friendship in its highest biblical form: restorative, sacrificial, unselfish.
“But woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.” Solomon now delivers a prophetic warning. The word “woe” here isn’t soft; it’s an ancient cry of lament and impending sorrow. He’s declaring that the man who isolates himself is exposed to greater danger than he can withstand alone. Falling is hard enough, but falling with no one there to help you turns a temporary crisis into permanent devastation. The phrase “hath not another to help him up” is more than loneliness—it is a picture of helplessness. There is no arm extended, no voice calling back, no presence to catch him before the descent. Solomon is sounding an alarm for all who would choose self-sufficiency, pride, or greed at the cost of fellowship.
Matthew Henry (1662–1714, Presbyterian) explains that this passage reveals how friendship and fellowship are God’s appointed means of mutual help. He notes that “those who live in love live in God, for God is love,” pointing to the spiritual nature of friendship beyond its practical benefit. Charles Bridges (1794–1869, Anglican Evangelical) draws attention to the pride that often drives people to isolate themselves, calling this passage a rebuke to the self-sufficient man. True wisdom, he says, lies in recognizing that God designed people to need one another. Derek Kidner (1913–2008, Anglican), known for his poetic insight, writes that Solomon here speaks “to the solitary striver.” The man who toils alone in verses 7 and 8 is now contrasted with this vision of redemptive partnership. Kidner observes that Solomon’s portrait of companionship is not sentimental but deeply practical and moral—this is not about comfort, but survival. Two people can endure what one alone cannot. Together, there is reward. Together, there is restoration. Together, there is life.
Broader Context
Ecclesiastes chapter 4 sits in the center of Solomon’s long meditation on the futility of earthly life when it is pursued without God. From the opening chapter, Solomon has been setting the tone of spiritual disillusionment, repeating the phrase “vanity of vanities” to describe the emptiness of everything done “under the sun.” That phrase—used over and over throughout the book—signals a key concept: Solomon is speaking from the perspective of man looking at the world apart from divine revelation. “Under the sun” is life as it is, without the lens of heaven. And in that world, nothing lasts, everything decays, and all men die regardless of their wisdom or wealth. Solomon’s exploration is not cynical, but brutally honest, and in that honesty, he forces the reader to confront their illusions.
By the time we arrive at chapter 4, Solomon has already explored the futility of labor, the dead ends of pleasure, and the frustration of trying to find satisfaction in knowledge. He now turns to social injustice and human relationships. The opening of the chapter mourns the powerlessness of the oppressed—those who suffer with no one to comfort them. It is a world where men work, strive, and toil, often motivated by rivalry and envy, not purpose. In verse 4 he writes, “Again, I considered all travail, and every right work, that for this a man is envied of his neighbour.” This isn’t just a statement about hard work—it’s a piercing indictment of the motive behind it. Much of what men call success, Solomon says, is nothing but the fruit of jealousy. He follows this by describing two men: one who folds his hands and consumes his own flesh in laziness, and another who never stops working though he has no companion, no child, no heir. That second man, introduced in verses 7 and 8, is a mirror image of modern ambition—lonely, restless, driven, and ultimately unsatisfied. Solomon asks, “For whom do I labour, and bereave my soul of good?” The implied answer is: for no one. This kind of work brings no joy and no reward because it is disconnected from relationship and meaning.
It’s against that dark background that verses 9 and 10 shine like light through the cracks. Solomon shifts from exposing the futility of isolated labor to showing the wisdom of companionship. His tone is still observational—he is not commanding but describing—but the truth he shares here is timeless. In a world full of selfishness and sorrow, companionship stands out as one of the few things that is truly “better.” The phrase “two are better than one” is not a moral judgment but a survival strategy. In a world full of toil, suffering, and collapse, people need each other. And Solomon is not idealizing friendship. He’s not offering a sentimental view of relationship. He’s offering realism. People fall. People fail. People wear out. And when they do, the only thing that can redeem them in that moment—short of divine intervention—is another person who is willing to step in.
This point is deeply connected to the structure of the book as a whole. Ecclesiastes is not random—it’s carefully arranged to lead the reader from despair to clarity. The verses we are studying are part of Solomon’s way of peeling back every false hope and showing what remains. In the end, the book will culminate in chapter 12 with a call to fear God and keep His commandments. But along the way, Solomon acknowledges that God has left us some gifts—some moments of light in the midst of darkness—and friendship is one of them. It is not the ultimate answer to man’s problems, but it is a grace that helps carry us through the journey. The fact that Solomon highlights this in the middle of his most sobering reflections tells us how significant it truly is. In the architecture of Ecclesiastes, chapter 4 stands as a pillar reminding us that even in a world cursed by sin, there is dignity and strength in godly companionship.
Application
These verses highlight one of the clearest ways we see God’s greatness: in His design for relationship. God, who has never existed alone—Father, Son, and Spirit in perfect communion—created mankind in His image, not just as individuals, but as a people designed for fellowship. When Solomon says “two are better than one,” he is not creating a new principle—he is echoing the divine pattern already revealed in Genesis, where God said, “It is not good that the man should be alone.” That truth was not limited to marriage. It spoke to human nature itself. We were made to walk together. And this is a reflection of God’s own character. He is a God of covenant, a God who binds Himself to His people, and a God who never leaves His own. When He sent His Son, Jesus did not live a life of solitary reflection—He gathered disciples, walked with them, taught them, rebuked them, and ultimately laid down His life for them. That’s what makes John chapter 15 verse 13 so powerful: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” The very heart of God is revealed in sacrificial friendship. Ecclesiastes chapter 4 verses 9 through 10 call us to stand in awe of this truth. The God who could have made us independent instead made us interdependent, and He blesses us through others as a tangible expression of His love.
For the believer, this passage is a call to reject the world’s lie of self-sufficiency. We live in a culture that prizes independence, celebrates self-made success, and tells us that needing others is weakness. But Scripture teaches the opposite. Needing others is not failure—it’s design. Believers are called to walk in the light of that truth. That means not only receiving help, but giving it. It means becoming the kind of friend who lifts others up when they fall, who bears burdens, who speaks truth in love, and who stays close in the valley. Paul writes in Galatians chapter 6 verse 2, “Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.” That law is the law of love. It is not fulfilled by passivity but by presence. Being a faithful friend is not optional for the Christian—it is obedience. And so the call to action is clear: examine your friendships. Are you the kind of person who shows up when others fall? Are you so isolated in your own world that you’ve shut out the very people God has sent to strengthen you? Are you more focused on appearances than on walking with someone through their weakness? This passage confronts those temptations and calls us back to the humility and loyalty that reflect Christ Himself. You cannot live out the Christian life in isolation. If Jesus surrounded Himself with others, so must you.
To the unbeliever, this verse exposes something deeper: your greatest fall is spiritual, and no human companion can ultimately lift you up from it. You may have friends, you may have support, but none of them can save your soul. The greatest fall you’ve experienced is separation from the God who made you, and the only one who can lift you from that fall is the One who laid down His life to do it. These verses point us to the need for a helper—but the ultimate helper is Christ. He is the friend of sinners. He is the one who left heaven’s glory to walk in the dust of this earth, to touch the leper, to eat with tax collectors, to weep with the grieving, and to die for the ungodly. Proverbs chapter 18 verse 24 says, “There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.” That friend is Jesus. If you are reading this and you do not know Him, your greatest need is not companionship from another person—it is reconciliation with your Creator. And He offers it freely. He doesn’t just help you up—He raises you to new life. Call out to Him, confess your sin, believe in Him, and be restored.
Final Encouragement
Ecclesiastes chapter 4 verses 9 through 10 remind us that true friendship is not a luxury—it is a spiritual necessity designed by God Himself. In a world full of isolation, ambition, and pride, these verses call us back to humility, to mutual care, and to the kind of relationships that reflect the heart of Christ. God’s greatness is seen in the way He provides help through others, and His love is expressed through people who walk with us in weakness. For the believer, these words are a reminder to walk together in the faith, to lift the fallen, and to reflect the mercy and faithfulness of our Savior in every relationship. For the unbeliever, they are a warning—because the greatest fall is spiritual, and only Jesus Christ can lift a soul from death to life. These verses don’t just offer comfort—they confront our hearts and call us to live differently. They challenge us to be the kind of people who don’t just talk about love but embody it, one burden at a time.
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1 The word which came to Jeremiah (Jair-uh-my-uh) from the Lord, saying, 2 Arise, and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will cause thee to hear my words. 3 Then I went down to the potter’s house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels. 4 And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it. 5 Then the word of the Lord came to me, saying, 6 O house of Israel (Iz-ray-el), cannot I do with you as this potter? saith the Lord. Behold, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are ye in mine hand, O house of Israel (Iz-ray-el). 7 At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull down, and to destroy it; 8 If that nation, against whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the evil that I thought to do unto them. 9 And at what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build and to plant it; 10 If it do evil in my sight, that it obey not my voice, then I will repent of the good, wherewith I said I would benefit them.
Verse Context
1 The word which came to Jeremiah (Jair-uh-my-uh) from the Lord, saying,
This first verse sets the tone for what follows—not merely a message or impression, but “the word which came” to the prophet. This phrase indicates a divine revelation that is direct, authoritative, and intentional. God speaks, and the prophet listens. The phrase is common in Jeremiah’s writings, marking each section as coming straight from God and not from Jeremiah’s imagination or opinions. In this, we are reminded of Second Peter chapter 1 verse 21: “For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man: but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.” Jeremiah is about to receive not just information, but a living lesson in sovereignty and mercy—revealed not by explanation alone but by observation.
2 Arise, and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will cause thee to hear my words.
Here, God commands Jeremiah to act before He explains. This is important—obedience precedes revelation. God tells him to arise, indicating urgency, and to go down—likely a literal descent into the lower city of Jerusalem, where artisan quarters such as potters’ shops would be found near water sources or in the Valley of Hinnom, a place later associated with judgment. This was not merely a visual aid; it was a divinely arranged parable in real time. The phrase “there I will cause thee to hear my words” is especially rich. God is saying that Jeremiah’s hearing—his understanding of divine truth—will be made possible through what he sees. This supports the idea that spiritual truth often becomes clearer when paired with lived experience. Matthew Henry (1662–1714, Presbyterian) notes that “sometimes the best way for God to teach us is by showing us, not just telling us.”
3 Then I went down to the potter’s house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels.
Jeremiah obeys without hesitation, a subtle but important point about the prophet’s character. Upon arrival, he sees the potter working at his wheel—specifically a dual-stone wheel, operated by foot, where the upper stone spun the clay under the potter’s hand. The phrase “wrought a work” implies continual action—the potter was not idle, and neither is God. The wheel here represents the ongoing process of formation—a cycle of design, pressure, motion, and touch. The potter’s presence and engagement are constant. Adam Clarke (1762–1832, Methodist) interprets the wheel as a symbol of time and divine process, observing that “God’s purposes are not hasty; they revolve, spin, and press in time, until the vessel is shaped.” John Gill (1697–1771, Baptist) also connects the potter’s continuous work with God’s ongoing involvement in shaping human destiny, especially of nations like Israel.
4 And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it.
This verse is the heart of the scene. The vessel being shaped becomes “marred”—damaged, spoiled, or corrupted—while still in the hands of the potter. It is not thrown away; instead, the potter remakes it into another vessel entirely. This is critical: the flaw in the clay—whether from an impurity, air bubble, or resistance to shaping—does not end the potter’s work. It redirects it. The potter does not change; the vessel does. The Hebrew word for “marred” (which I’ll supply if you request it) carries the idea of ruin or decay—something that was on track for one purpose but now must be refashioned to fulfill another. The potter’s response is not panic, but sovereignty. He does not ask permission of the clay. He does not mourn the ruined design. He simply reshapes according to what seemed good to the potter. This phrase emphasizes that the standard of design is not the clay’s desire, but the potter’s will. This is one of the clearest pictures of divine sovereignty in the Old Testament. God has a right to reshape lives, nations, and destinies as He sees fit. But woven within that sovereignty is hope: the potter remakes what was marred. Charles Spurgeon (1834–1892, Baptist) beautifully captured this when he said, “When God breaks, it is only that He might remake. Let the clay be soft, and His fingers will form beauty out of ruin.”
5 Then the word of the Lord came to me, saying, At this point, the object lesson Jeremiah (Jair-uh-my-uh) has witnessed is now given divine interpretation. What he saw at the potter’s house becomes the framework for what God is about to explain. Notice the structure here: first, Jeremiah sees (verses 2–4), then he hears (verse 5). God had promised in verse 2 that once he arrived at the potter’s house, He would “cause thee to hear my words,” and now that promise is fulfilled. The sequence matters—God often uses real, lived images to set the stage for His word to strike the heart, and here, the clay’s marring becomes a mirror to Judah’s spiritual failure.
6 O house of Israel (Iz-ray-el), cannot I do with you as this potter? saith the Lord. Behold, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are ye in mine hand, O house of Israel (Iz-ray-el). This verse makes the imagery unmistakably personal. The “house of Israel” refers to the covenant people as a whole—including the remnant of Judah now facing judgment. God asks a rhetorical question: Can I not do with you as the potter does with the clay? The expected answer is “yes,” but the question challenges their assumptions about autonomy. This is not merely about God’s power, but about His right—His divine authority—to shape, reshape, or dismantle a people based on their response to His will. The repeated phrase “O house of Israel” at the beginning and end of the verse adds emotional weight—this is a grieving God speaking, not an indifferent dictator. John Calvin (1509–1564, Reformed) notes that God is reminding Israel that “they are not their own masters, but wholly in God’s hand, and ought to submit to his molding.” That line opens up a powerful spiritual truth about humanity: we are not our own, and any attempt to live independently from God’s shaping hand is a rebellion against His rightful authority. But more than that—it’s a rebellion we can’t overcome on our own.
This verse exposes not just Judah’s sin, but the universal human condition apart from divine intervention. Without the Spirit of God within us, we remain clay that resists, rather than submits. Paul addresses this directly in Romans chapter 8 verse 7: “Because the carnal mind is enmity against God: for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be.” That verse speaks plainly: the flesh is not merely disobedient—it is incapable of true submission to God. The people of Judah were in God’s hand nationally, but not in His will spiritually. They were covenant members externally, but rebels internally. And this is why the New Covenant is not just a promise of land or peace—it is the promise of transformation. In Ezekiel chapter 36 verse 27, God says: “And I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes…” That’s what Israel lacked. Clay without water is brittle and hard. A vessel cannot be shaped unless it is softened—and that softening comes by the Holy Spirit, not by human effort.
The image of clay in the potter’s hand also foreshadows the submission of Christ Himself, the only One who ever truly yielded to the Father’s hand in perfection. In Philippians chapter 2 verse 8, it says: “He humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.” Jesus is the vessel that was never marred, never resistant, always ready to be shaped—even when it meant suffering. His prayer in Luke chapter 22 verse 42—“Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done”—is the exact opposite of Israel’s hardheartedness in Jeremiah’s day. Where they resisted, He submitted. Where they broke covenant, He fulfilled it.
Under the New Covenant, those who belong to Christ are likewise no longer their own. First Corinthians chapter 6 verses 19–20 says: “Ye are not your own… For ye are bought with a price.” That truth aligns perfectly with Jeremiah 18:6—we are clay, and the Potter owns the wheel. The only difference between a shattered vessel and a sanctified one is submission to the shaping of the Spirit. Commentator Charles Feinberg (1909–1995, Jewish Christian, dispensationalist) affirms this, saying, “This is the moral problem of man: he claims to be God’s, yet refuses to be formed by Him. Without inward renewal by the Spirit, no true submission is possible.” And as Matthew Henry (1662–1714, Presbyterian) warns, “If God’s professing people do not behave themselves as the clay in the potter’s hand… they are to expect no other than to be thrown away.”
So the question God asked Israel—“Cannot I do with you as this potter?”—still echoes today. It’s not just about divine authority. It’s about whether the vessel will yield. If we do not yield, we will be reshaped. If we resist, we may be broken. But if we submit, we will be formed into something good in the potter’s eyes.
7 At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull down, and to destroy it; Here begins the explanation of how God’s sovereignty plays out in real time, not just in metaphor. The phrase “at what instant” reveals something deeply important—God is not bound by long periods of deliberation. He may decree judgment or blessing suddenly, based on a nation’s moral or spiritual condition. The trio of phrases—“to pluck up, and to pull down, and to destroy it”—reflect a comprehensive undoing. This language is covenantal and judicial. It speaks of the divine right to revoke privileges, dismantle power, and remove influence. The sequence is intentional: God first plants and builds (as He did with Israel in the land), but He also reserves the right to uproot and tear down when rebellion takes root. Matthew Henry observes that “God deals with nations in time as He does with souls in eternity—according to their works.” This verse, then, is not just theoretical. It’s a declaration of how God governs history.
Jeremiah 18:7
“At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull down, and to destroy it;”
God is speaking here to the house of Israel and by extension, to any nation or kingdom. The language is rooted in covenant justice—God has the divine right to uproot, dismantle, and erase national entities that refuse to walk in obedience, even if they were once favored. This is judicial. It’s not about individual salvation but about the removal of blessing, protection, purpose, and presence on a national scale.
Revelation 2:5 (Ephesus)
“Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place, except thou repent.”
Here, Jesus is speaking to a local church, not a nation—but the principle is the same: continued disobedience leads to removal. The lampstand symbolizes the church’s testimony, authority, witness, and presence as a light-bearing community under Christ’s lordship (see Revelation 1:20). If they do not repent, Jesus will remove their status as a true church—they may still meet, but their spiritual authority and effectiveness will be gone.
So are they the same?
They are not the same passage or a prophecy/fulfillment pair, but they absolutely declare the same principle:
In Jeremiah, God says to Israel: “If you persist in evil, I will undo you as a nation—pluck you up, pull you down, and destroy you.”
In Revelation, Jesus says to churches: “If you persist in disobedience, I will remove your light-bearing authority—you will no longer represent Me.”
In both cases, the message is clear:
Being chosen or established does not guarantee future favor—obedience is required to remain in God’s active blessing.
Theological Agreement
John MacArthur (b. 1939, Reformed Baptist) connects Revelation 2:5 directly to Israel’s history, saying:
“Just as God removed Israel from the land when they turned from Him, so too He removes churches that refuse to walk in truth.”
Charles Spurgeon (1834–1892, Baptist) preached on Revelation 2 and said:
“A church’s usefulness will not outlive its holiness. When the Lord removes the candlestick, it is because they have ceased to shine.”
8 If that nation, against whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the evil that I thought to do unto them. This verse reveals the conditional nature of God’s judgment. The phrase “turn from their evil” refers to the nation’s repentance—ceasing from wickedness, idolatry, injustice, and covenant-breaking. The word “evil” used here—both in the people’s sin and in what God “thought to do”—is the Hebrew word “ra'” (rah). It is pronounced rah, and it broadly means calamity, distress, disaster, or destruction. When applied to humans, it typically means moral evil. When applied to God, as it is in the second part of the verse, it never means sin or moral wrong. It refers instead to calamitous judgment, such as famine, sword, exile, or national ruin. God never commits sin—His “evil” is judicial punishment.
The word translated “repent” is the Hebrew word nacham (naw-kham)—pronounced naw-kham, with a strong “kh” sound from the throat. This word means to relent, to be moved to pity, to withdraw intended action, and to change course in response to circumstances. It does not imply wrongdoing or moral error. God’s use of “repent” here means He will withhold the judgment He had declared if the people truly repent. He is not reversing a sinful decision but responding righteously to a change in human behavior. Matthew Henry (1662–1714, Presbyterian) confirms this, saying, “God’s repentance is not the change of His mind, but the change of His method—when the sinner turns from sin, the Lord turns from wrath.” Adam Clarke (1762–1832, Methodist) adds, “God’s threatenings are conditional. They are proofs of His justice, but always leave room for His mercy.”
This verse teaches us two things: first, that God’s judgments are always just and rightly deserved, but second, that He is eager to show mercy when there is genuine repentance. The idea that God “thought to do” evil and would then repent highlights His role as both Judge and Redeemer. The moment a person or nation turns, the Potter withholds the crushing blow and shapes mercy instead. But that mercy does not negate the threat—it shows the seriousness of rejecting it. Without repentance, the promised judgment proceeds.
9 And at what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build and to plant it; This verse presents the other side of the divine principle laid out in verse 7. Just as God has the authority to tear down and destroy a nation in response to evil, He also has the authority to build and to plant when a nation walks in obedience. The phrase “build and to plant” is directly tied to Jeremiah’s prophetic commission in Jeremiah chapter 1 verse 10, where God appointed him over the nations “to root out, and to pull down… to build, and to plant.” This image implies not only restoration and blessing, but long-term care, development, and fruitfulness under God’s direction. However, the verse sets the stage for a conditional reality made clear in the next line: this blessing is not unconditional. As Matthew Henry (1662–1714, Presbyterian) notes, “God’s promises of mercy are made with a proviso. If a people turn aside to do evil, they forfeit the benefit of those promises.” John Gill (1697–1771, Baptist) echoes this truth: “This shows that the good which God designs for a nation is not absolute and peremptory, but with condition of their obedience.” What is spoken of here is not a guaranteed covenant favor, but a sovereign opportunity that must be met with faithfulness. God’s favor, when offered, is real—but it is not static. Charles Simeon (1759–1836, Anglican Evangelical) adds, “God’s purposes toward nations and individuals are consistent with His moral government. He deals with men according to their conduct.” The image of planting implies nurture and time; the image of building implies structure and purpose. Both are blessings that depend on ongoing submission to the God who gives them.
10 If it do evil in my sight, that it obey not my voice, then I will repent of the good, wherewith I said I would benefit them. This final verse completes the thought. If a nation disobeys—even after God has promised good—He will withdraw that blessing. Again, the word “repent” here means to reverse course, not because God is unstable, but because His promises are covenant-based. This verse is a warning to presumptuous people who believe that God’s blessings are permanent regardless of behavior. Judah believed they were untouchable because of the temple, the land, and the Davidic covenant. But God is saying clearly: no promise of good is guaranteed if it is met with rebellion. This is echoed in Romans chapter 11 verse 22: “Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God: on them which fell, severity; but toward thee, goodness, if thou continue in his goodness: otherwise thou also shalt be cut off.” John Gill emphasizes that the clay’s failure to submit to the potter’s hand does not bind the potter to continue as if nothing has happened. The potter may choose another design—or another lump of clay entirely.
BROADER CONTEXT
Jeremiah chapter 18 is part of a larger prophetic sequence that reveals God’s covenant dealings with Judah in light of their growing rebellion. The book of Jeremiah as a whole is framed by one central truth: God is righteous in judgment, but always offers mercy if there is repentance. This chapter falls within a section (chapters 11–20) often referred to as the Confessions of Jeremiah, where the prophet not only delivers God’s message but also wrestles with it emotionally and spiritually as Judah persists in its rejection of the truth.
The broader context of Jeremiah 18 reveals a deep theological contrast between God’s sovereign authority to shape history and Israel’s stubborn refusal to yield to that authority. This is why the imagery of the potter and the clay is so significant—not only in this chapter, but in the biblical narrative as a whole. In Isaiah chapter 64 verse 8, the same image appears: “But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.” In Romans chapter 9 verses 20–21, Paul uses this same image to explain God’s right to show mercy or judgment as He wills. The repetition of this metaphor across Scripture underscores its importance: the clay has no right to argue with the potter.
Jeremiah 18 is also part of a legal argument God is making against His people. The chapter is framed by warnings, object lessons, and outcomes. After the living parable of the potter’s house in verses 1–10, verses 11–17 contain a direct charge against Judah for choosing their own way: “We will walk after our own devices” (verse 12). The result is not just a change in national policy—it is a moral collapse. Judah’s rejection of God’s shaping hand leads to divine judgment. That judgment is explained in the second half of the chapter, and intensified by their plan to silence Jeremiah himself (verse 18), which proves that the people are not merely confused—they are willfully rebellious.
This chapter also fits into the entire flow of the book of Jeremiah, which repeatedly contrasts false security in religious forms (temple worship, national identity, the law) with the call to true inward repentance. Jeremiah, more than any other prophet, emphasizes that covenant privilege means nothing without covenant obedience. This becomes especially clear in chapters 7, 11, and 18–20. In fact, the entire book could be summarized in this tension: God wants to bless His people, but they refuse to be shaped.
From a historical standpoint, this chapter was likely given during the reign of Jehoiakim, a king known for his arrogance, cruelty, and rejection of prophetic warnings. Jehoiakim cut up and burned Jeremiah’s scroll in chapter 36, illustrating Judah’s contempt for God’s Word. The geopolitical setting is one of rising Babylonian power, with Judah caught between temporary reforms and deep corruption. This is why God warns that even His intentions to “build and to plant” (verse 9) are subject to reversal if the nation turns again to evil. It’s not a change in God—it’s a failure in man.
Theologically, this chapter addresses the tension between divine sovereignty and human responsibility. God is the potter—He has full right to shape or remake a vessel. But He also gives real opportunity for the vessel to respond. This tension is not solved in Jeremiah, but it is clarified in Christ. The New Testament presents the ultimate Potter in Jesus, who not only shapes but also takes the marred clay into Himself and offers the Spirit to make the clay truly new.
Finally, Jeremiah 18 helps explain why the coming judgment—destruction by Babylon and exile—is not cruel or arbitrary. It is just, measured, and preceded by repeated warnings. This passage reinforces a central biblical pattern: God always gives a warning before He gives a wound. And He always holds out the possibility of mercy before He executes justice.
Application
Appreciating God’s Greatness
Jeremiah chapter 18 verses 1 through 10 magnifies God’s greatness through the image of the potter and the clay. It reveals that God is not a distant or passive observer of human behavior—He is active, intentional, and engaged. As the potter, He shapes nations and individuals with wisdom and purpose. His greatness is displayed in both His sovereign authority to form or dismantle, and in His mercy, which is ready to withhold judgment when there is repentance. That balance—between justice and mercy—is something only a perfectly holy God can maintain. He is not limited by time, not bound by previous plans, and not indifferent to change. The greatness of God in this passage is that He remains just without being rigid, and merciful without being permissive. He offers hope without lowering His standards.
For the Believer
This passage calls believers to recognize that being in God’s hand is not a guarantee of blessing—it is a responsibility to be yielded. God’s people are not self-shaped—they are God-shaped. The marred vessel was not discarded but reshaped, showing that God’s mercy is ongoing, but it demands humility. Too often, believers resist the very work God is trying to do in their lives—through discipline, suffering, or conviction—because they forget that He alone knows what the finished vessel should look like. Jeremiah 18 reminds us that our role is not to control the wheel, but to trust the Potter’s hand. His intentions are good, but they will not override a hardened heart.
Call to Action
Examine whether you are truly yielding to God’s shaping hand, or resisting it. Are there areas in your life where you’ve become hardened—justifying sin, making excuses, or refusing correction? Repent of resistance and ask God to soften your heart again. Pray as the hymn says, “Have Thine own way, Lord… mold me and make me after Thy will.” Choose to be soft clay in His hand today, not brittle clay that must be broken and started over.
For the Unbeliever
This passage is a warning: being shaped by God is not optional. If you reject His work now, you will still face Him later—but then as Judge, not Potter. God says plainly in verse 10 that if a nation, or a person, does evil and will not obey, then He will turn away even the good He had planned. If you are not in Christ, this passage shows that God does not owe you mercy, but He offers it. You are clay. The only question is whether you will be shaped into a vessel of honor, or one marked for destruction. The good news is that the Potter is still working—and He is still willing to remake what’s been marred.
Final Encouragement
Jeremiah chapter 18 verses 1 through 10 is both a comfort and a confrontation. It shows us that God is personally involved in shaping lives, and that no one is beyond His ability to remake. If you feel broken, marred, or far from what you were meant to be, this passage reminds you that the Potter is still at the wheel. He doesn’t discard what is flawed—He patiently reshapes it, if the clay will yield.
But this passage also warns us that God will not shape what resists Him. If we harden ourselves, we force the Potter to break us down before He can rebuild—and if we persist in rebellion, we risk being cast aside entirely. That’s not harsh—it’s holy. God’s love is not soft; it’s purifying. His patience is real, but not limitless.
What should encourage us most is that the God who pronounces judgment in one breath offers mercy in the next. The same hand that can crush is also extended in grace. That’s the greatness of our God: He is powerful enough to destroy, but gracious enough to relent—and He waits for our response.
Closing
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