Seems a pretty open and shut commandment. Don’t murder. Easy enough. Most people don’t really get the urge to premeditate and act on the actual slaying of another life.

But when God says “murder,” what does He actually mean? The word used here is “rasah,” which is a Hebrew word specifically meaning a premeditated killing. This would not apply to accidental killing, death related to self-defense, or death as punishment by law. To kill in the context of this word, rasah, is reserved for a murder born out of hatred or malice towards someone else. This could include vengeful murder handled outside of lawful verdict, assassination, and murdering due to bitterness or vindictiveness towards someone.

Imagine you have a huge debt. I’m talking six figures. Whatever it is– medical, educational, a mortgage– it is crushing and the interest rate on it means that you will be paying it off for the rest of your life. The payments on that debt are so high that you will have to work and work and work around the clock to try and make it. Forget about vacations, luxury items, and eating meals out. You’re just lucky to have food on your table. Everything you think about, do, and work towards seems to have that debt looming over it, shadowing everything. No hope, no relief, no peace.

Peter denied Jesus just before His death. If Jesus were anyone else and not the Son of God, I’m sure it would have been the end of a relationship, a revocation of his calling, and two hurt people. That’s what Peter deserved: to lose Jesus’ love, lose the purpose Jesus instilled in him, and to live with his failure. It’s what you and I deserve for sure. Because we’ve all done what Peter did. Maybe not under the same circumstances, but we’ve all fallen short. We’ve all messed up. We’ve all had moments of weak faith that caused us to be less confident in our belief.

Blessed are those who mourn… It might seem sort of contradictory. How can it be possible to mourn and yet be blessed? If we’re mourning, it would mean we lost something, right? And losing something or someone to the point of grief can’t be something Jesus wants for us, let alone something He blesses us with. Yes, when Jesus says blessed are those who mourn, He means real and harrowing heartache. The word He uses in the Greek is “pentheó” which means a deep, personal grief over a death or a hope that dies. It is a grief so severe that it takes possession of the person and cannot be hidden.

John the Baptist: a guy who was simple in a lot of ways and yet had a big job. Scripture describes him as a man who “wore a garment of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey.” (Matthew 3:4) To us, it might sound a little crazy and alternative between the clothes, the diet, and the wilderness lifestyle, but in a lot of ways, John the Baptist was a real-time example of God’s provision over a man that walked by faith and in his calling. Seriously. This guy lived out in the wilderness– not a desert, but not in a comfortable town either– and lived off of what God gave him. He didn’t worry or strive or beg his followers to provide for him. Scripture doesn’t say that he led a revival, baptized people, and then shook down the crowds of people for a paycheck afterwards. John lived and breathed his ministry: to prepare the way for Jesus’ coming and calling the world to repentance ahead of Christ’s ministry. It wasn’t a side hustle or a mere passion project. It was his whole life.

Have you ever had someone who seemed intent on hurting you or your family? I’m talking about and over and over type situation; like one where they hurt you, you work to forgive them, turn the other cheek, and they end up offending you on a completely new level. The Christianese answer is that you should continue to turn the other cheek to this person, but if you’re anything like me in this kind of situation, your prayers start to sound somewhere along the lines of, “Lord, there just isn’t another cheek left to give!”

I always find it silly when I’m talking about Jesus to someone and they say something along the lines of, “I can’t be a Christian. God doesn’t want me. I’m too far gone for all that.” In theory, I can understand what they mean, and I can sympathize with the fact that someone thinks they are outside of God’s love for them or that they’ve done something to disqualify them from being a part of what God is doing. We might all feel like that at some time or another– caught up in our flesh and sin, knowing we have done wrong– and felt that there was no way Jesus could save us after knowing how despicable we are. To feel that way is to not understand what Jesus did on the cross, and the full extent of that salvation extended.

Hey Pops, I’ve been frustrated recently, remembering where I’ve been in the past and not feeling like I’m there before. I know that I shouldn’t compare where I used to be with where I am now, but sometimes, I can’t help it. I feel like I should be deeper, more confident, or more satisfied. To be honest, I can’t put my finger on exactly what I feel is missing or why I can’t seem to stir myself up to enjoy you more consistently.

Well, friends, we’ve been in this place for five weeks now, and I think I’ve just about covered all the amazing little reminders this funny passage of scripture has revealed to me as of late. But I don’t think I could move on and call this series closed without covering the last two verses in this section of Mark 11,which is one last little point Jesus teaches us about prayer.

No matter how long you’ve been a Christian– whether you’re on day one or decades from the starting line– everyone that has ever followed Jesus is unified by at least this fact: none of us have ever graduated from the point of salvation. Because no matter how long your spiritual resume is, it is unavoidable that you will struggle with your own tendency towards sin until the day you die. Maybe that’s blunt or depressing, but it’s true. There will never be a point in this life where you will be able to think, “Well, that’s it. I’ve done it. I’ve obtained a wholly righteous and upright lifestyle. I will no longer struggle with sin.”

Hey Pops, Search me. And I mean really search me. Invade every cell and capillary, every thought-space and corner of my heart. If You should find unforgiveness in me, then bring it to my attention. Help me to war with it. Help me to lay it down.

It all begins with an idea.