Whispers of Grace
Walking with God is filled with mountaintops and valleys. Join passionate yet flawed Jesus-lover and mother of four Julie Colbeth as she delves into the Scriptures with a refreshingly honest perspective that will bring hope and encouragement to your day.
Whispers of Grace
Strange Fire: Mistakes in Christian Service (part 4 of 4)
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The Life of Moses- Episode #35 (Part 4 of 4) 🔥
Sincerity sounds like the safest measure of faith, but Scripture keeps refusing that comfort. We’re closing our Exodus-shaped series on service with a hard, holy thread running from Genesis to the words of Jesus Himself: God is good, but He does not bend to our preferences, and worship on our terms is not the same as worship in truth. If you’ve ever thought “I meant well” was enough, these passages will lovingly unsettle you.
We walk through Cain and Abel and why God weighs the heart behind the offering, not just the offering itself. Then we slow right down at the center of the message: Nadab and Abihu and their strange fire. It’s a sobering picture of what happens when consecrated people drift from reverence into self-expression, swapping obedience for what feels right in the moment. From there we revisit Uzzah and the Ark, where celebration and good intentions still miss God’s clear instructions, exposing how quickly we can center ourselves in worship and service.
The tension doesn’t stay in the Old Testament. We move into Acts 5 with Ananias and Sapphira, where image outruns integrity and performance threatens the health of the church. Finally, we sit under Jesus’ warning in Matthew 7 about self-deception and the difference between knowing about Him and truly knowing Him. If you’re hungry for a faith marked by surrender, integrity, and real relationship, press play, then subscribe, share with a friend, and leave a review so more women can find Whispers of Grace.
Cain And Abel Faith Matters
Strange Fire And God’s Holiness
Uzzah And Good Intentions
Christ Fulfils The Law
Ananias And Sapphira Image Vs Integrity
Jesus Warns Against Self-Deception
Obedience Over Sacrifice Final Call
Julie ColbethKia ora, and welcome to Whispers of Grace, a place for women to be encouraged by God's holy word. I'm your host, Julie Colbeth, and I am overjoyed to dig into the Bible with you today. Kia ora friends, and welcome back to Whispers of Grace, a place where you occasionally get knocked over the head with a hypothetical mallet until you've seen stars. Just kidding. Oh, but today's message is a weighty one. But I've labored over this and prayed through it. So buckle up, Buttercup. This one is a doozy. Because we've reached the final episode in this four-part miniseries where we've been exploring service through the lens of Exodus. And today we're stepping into some weighty ground, looking at a pile of mistakes made by those who've come before us. But thank God for these mistakes, because we can look at them and be changed. We'll continue on in our life of Moses journey by looking at the account of Nadab and Abihu and their offering of strange fire before the Lord. And then we're going to move through four other biblical stories that follow the same theme. Three from the Old Testament and two from the New Testament. Each of these accounts highlights a very common misconception, both in the world and in the church. The idea that sincerity is enough. That as long as someone means well, it must be acceptable. That if something is done with good spiritual intent, God will automatically receive it. The passages that we're going to look at today will probably make us feel uncomfortable. And we're often tempted to move quickly past them or to soften them or explain them away. But instead, we're going to slow down and sit in the text and allow God to speak to our hearts. Because these are not just historical accounts, they are mirrors, and they expose the danger of approaching God on our own terms and confronts the deeply rooted assumption that sincerity alone is sufficient. There's a line from C.S. Lewis's The Line The Witch in the Wardrobe that I've always loved. Mr. Beaver is talking to the children about Aslan, who is a beautiful picture of Christ. And he essentially says that Aslan is not safe, but he's good. And that distinction matters because God is not safe in the way that we often imagine safety, but he is always good. And his goodness does not bend to our assumptions or preferences. So we are going to dive right into our first biblical account. And as we step into this first story, keep that thread in mind. God's goodness is constant, but he does not conform to us. We are the ones invited to come into alignment with him. All right, starting out in Genesis chapter 4, this introduces us to Cain and Abel, the first two sons of humanity that were born to Adam and Eve. Cain, the firstborn, becomes a farmer who works the soil. My dad used to always call him sugar cane to help us remember which brother was the one that worked the land. And Abel, his brother, became a shepherd who tended sheep. And in time, both of these brothers bring offerings to the Lord from the labor of their hands. Cain offers some of the produce that he had raised from the land, and Abel brings the firstborn of his flock. Now most of you probably are familiar with the story, but this passage tells us that God looks with favor on Abel and his offerings, but does not look with favor on Cain and his offering. Hebrews 11 4 tells us that Abel's sacrifice was offered to God by faith, and thus showed him to be righteous. The key difference then is not merely what was offered, but the heart that was behind it, a heart of faith and trust that was in alignment with God. It's so important to note that this is not just a simple case of animal sacrifice being inherently superior to grain offerings, because later in scripture, grain offerings are absolutely part of acceptable worship before the Lord, showing that the issue is not the type of gift, but it's the condition of the worshiper. Abel's offering was received because it reflected his faith and his sincere devotion, while Cain's was rejected because it lacked alignment with God's will. Now, maybe he was just ticking boxes by offering a sacrifice. If his brother was doing it first, maybe he just hopped on the bandwagon and thought, I'll do it too. Or maybe he had some resentment towards God for kicking his parents out of the Garden Eden. There could be a thousand and one reasons for his heart not to be correct in bringing an offering to God. Scripture doesn't tell us exactly why, but he still showed up and he participated. And many of us would applaud him for pushing through his possible mixed emotions because he did bring an offering to the Lord. But God's response tells us that his participation here is not enough. God is not impressed by his offerings in isolation from his heart. Worship is meant to be an expression of faith and not a substitute for it. God's response shows that he engages Cain personally after this rejected offering. God warned Cain that sin was crouching at his door and urged him to master it. This shows us that Cain was not immediately cast aside, but he was confronted by God and given a chance to respond rightly. But Cain allowed his hurt pride and his anger to grow. Instead of receiving the correction, he resists it, and his resentment ultimately escalates into murder. He kills his own brother. The tragedy of the story is not only the rejection of an offering, but the refusal to deal with what was happening in his own heart. Now, when I look at this, I think the lesson that we can draw from this account today is that not every offering is accepted. God is not moved by our outward actions alone. True worship requires faith and a heart that is aligned with God's will. Without that inward reality, even sincere efforts will totally miss the mark. And this is where we need to let the weight of that settle on our hearts. Because Cain's story isn't just an isolated failure. It kind of sets a pattern that we're about to see repeated over and over again. Different people, different moments, but the same underlying issue, approaching God on our own terms. Now, move forward in time with me to the second story that we're looking at today, the story of Nadab and Abihu in Leviticus chapter 10. And I really want to slow down here because this is the heart of the message. In the last episode, we looked at the ordination of the priests, and where we're picking up now in this story is right in the middle of Moses and Israel carefully following God's instructions to establish the priesthood. If you missed that episode, you can easily go back and listen to it to kind of get some backstory to what we're talking about here. But Exodus chapter 40 tells us that Moses followed every single detail of God's instructions. Just like Bezalel and Aholiab, the craftsmen that we talked about, they followed God's instructions precisely. They did not skip anything. They worked within the boundary that he assigned to them. So now in this chapter, we see Moses hanging curtains and fastening sockets step by step, exactly as God commanded. He brought the ark into the center of the tent of meeting. He set up the table of showbread and the lampstand and the altar of incense, and he completed the tabernacle exactly as God commanded him. And then we're told the cloud covered the tabernacle, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle. God came close to his people as a response to their obedience. The glory of the Lord filled the whole place. Moses obeyed, and God moved in. So here we see that their obedience made room for the presence of God to settle among them. Now this is day one of Israel's established system of worship. Now move with me into Leviticus chapters nine and ten. They go through the full seven-day process to consecrate the priesthood day after day, repeating exactly what God had said about washing and sacrifices and everything that we spoke about in the last episode. And on the final day God responds. Leviticus chapter 9, verses 23 and 24 says, Then Moses and Aaron went into the tabernacle, and when they came back out, they blessed the people again, and the glory of the Lord appeared to the whole community. Fire blazed forth from the Lord's presence and consumed the burnt offering and the fat that was on the altar. When the people saw this, they shouted with joy and fell face down on the ground. We are blessed to be able to look at this holy moment. You can just imagine the priests are ready, the tabernacle is complete, the nation is gathered, everything is aligned with God's instructions, and God answers with fire, his fire coming down from his presence, signifying his approval. The people respond in the only way that a moment like this you can respond. They fall on their faces and worship. And right here, in this moment, Nadab and Abihu step onto the story. These aren't outsiders, they're Aaron's sons, and they've just gone through the seven days of consecration along with him. And they've seen everything. These men witnessed the plagues in Egypt, they walked through the Red Sea. They saw the judgment of after the golden calf. They stood at Mount Sinai when the mountain shook with God's presence. They heard Moses speak God's instructions firsthand. These men they knew better, but they take their censors and add incense and offer unauthorized fire before the Lord, something that he had not commanded them to do. So fire comes out from the presence of God and consumes them instantly. And Moses reminds Aaron of a divine warning that God had given them earlier and says, By those who come near me, I must be regarded as holy. And Aaron, their dad, says nothing. He holds his peace. Now thinking about this story, it can feel really jarring, but it's important for us to understand that Nadab and Abihu went rogue here. They stepped outside of what God had said. Now maybe they got caught up in the moment or they were excited. Maybe they wanted to participate more visibly and be seen by Israel. Maybe pride crept in and they just wanted to be noticed. Maybe it was impatience or drunkenness or ambition or just plain carelessness. We don't know their exact motive. Scripture doesn't tell us, but we do know that they did something that God did not ask them to do, and that matters, because after seven days, they knew better. This wasn't confusion, it was deviation, and it was an unauthorized way to approach God. It reveals something deeper inside. It was a subtle shift from obedience to preference, from reverence to self-expression. They chose to approach God based on what felt right to them rather than what God had said to do. They approached God on their own terms. And that's the mistake. God sets the terms. We don't. That has never been our job. As Matthew Henry said, it is not enough that we mean well. We must do as God commands. It's the same story as Cain and Abel. Two offerings, two approaches, one accepted and one rejected. Sincerity without submission, an effort without obedience. Hebrews twelve, twenty-eight through twenty-nine says to worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, because our God is a consuming fire. This is a thought I think that gets lost a lot on modern believers. We forget holiness of God. We forget that He is a consuming fire. And we need to beware the moment where we start to believe that our way is close enough, that our intention is good enough, that our sincerity can somehow replace what God has said. Because sincerity does not define truth. Self can never replace God as the authority. And if that feels a bit confronting, it should. Because this isn't just about ancient priests. This is about a tendency that runs straight through the human heart, including yours and mine. So all of that brings us to another moment in scripture, another split-second decision where someone tries to do what feels right in the moment and it costs him everything. Want to take a look at Uzzah reaching out to steady the ark. In 2 Samuel chapter 6, we see a similar moment unfolding. David is king over Israel, and he's gathered 30,000 of his best men to bring the Ark of the Covenant back into Jerusalem. Now the Ark, it represented the presence and glory of God. And David was very eager to return it to his rightful home in Jerusalem. So the scene is full of joy. They build a brand new cart to carry the ark, and David, along with thousands of others, are singing and playing instruments and dancing. They are rejoicing. There is excitement everywhere, and it feels like they are reclaiming pieces of their heritage, reaffirming their relationship with God and renewing their commitment. But in the middle of all this, something vital was overlooked. God had already given very precise instruction about how the ark was to be handled. It was only to be carried by priests from the family of Kohath. It was not to be touched by anyone else. And yet in the excitement and celebration, this was missed or forgotten. This big, loud, joyful procession suddenly came to a screeching halt. The oxen pulling the cart stumble, and Uzzah reaches out his hand to steady the ark. Instantly, when his hand touches it, God strikes him down dead. The music stopped, the dancing ceases, and joy turns to shock. Celebration gives way to mourning. God had clearly warned Israel that anyone outside the line of Kohath who touched the ark would die. But that warning was not remembered or it wasn't heeded. And if we're honest, this moment can feel deeply unsettling. It can seem harsh and confusing, and it might cause us to wrestle with who God even is. But often we make the same critical error in our thinking. Uzza assumed that God could not take care of the Ark himself. And he also assumed that his hand was more worthy or more holy than the ground that it would have hit. David Guzick says it this way. Uzzah means strength, and Ahio means friendly. And how often does our service to the Lord look exactly like this? A new cart, a big production, strength leading, and friendliness out front. And yet all done without truly inquiring of God or seeking his will. I'm sure that David desired God's blessing on what he was doing, but he didn't stop to ask God exactly how it should have been done. It was a good thing with a good heart, but it was done the wrong way. And if we pause here, we might recognize something in ourselves. How often can we be tempted to judge worship by how it makes us feel? How often do we center our walk or experience of God around ourselves? Worship and service were never meant to revolve around us. It is about Him, His holiness, His way, His glory, His kingdom, and our sincerity does not define truth. Do you see how consistent this is becoming? Cain brought an offering without faith. Nadab and Abihu brought fire without instruction. Uzzah reached out with good intentions, but without reverence. In every case, the issue was an effort, it was an alignment with God. Now it can be easy to think that this kind of strict judgment belonged only in the Old Testament. That once Jesus came, all of this was set aside. But before we move forward, we need to bring some clarity and balance. Yes, this kind of obedience does reflect the weight of the law. God's law is perfect and it must be obeyed, because God cannot dwell with sin. But this is precisely why Messiah came. Jesus fulfilled the perfect requirements of the law on our behalf. He not only fulfilled it, he freed us from it. And now we walk in the power of the Spirit and live according to his leading. If you want to see more about that, look at Galatians 5 and Romans chapter 8. But all of these lessons that we're seeing in the Old Testament are not thrown out. Because Hebrews 13 8 tells us that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. And so the heart behind these moments still speaks. Because the standard has never actually shifted. What has changed is that Christ has made a way for us to meet it through Him and not around Him. And as we move into the New Testament, we're going to look at two more examples where we see these themes, perhaps expressed a bit differently, but carrying the same underlying flaw of choosing our own way as opposed to doing things the way that God has prescribed. Next, we're going to jump into the New Testament, into the book of Acts, chapter 5. We come face to face with the story of Ananias and Sapphira. This one is hard. It presses on something uncomfortable and it reveals a real issue that I think we're facing as a church today. The core of the story is image championed over integrity. It's the early days of the church, and Jesus has ascended. The Holy Spirit has come at Pentecost and the church is growing rapidly, beautifully, and almost explosively. In this season, many believers are voluntarily selling their property and sharing the proceeds with the church. No one is being forced into it. It isn't law, it's love. It's a reflection of hearts that have been transformed by the love of God. And here's where we meet Ananias and Sapphira. They sell a piece of property and they keep back part of the money from the sale. Now, let's be really clear that part is not the problem. It was their property, it was their money. They were completely free to give whatever they chose. The issue is that they chose to lie about it. They present their gift as though it were the full amount of the sale of the property, and they want the appearance of total sacrifice without actually. Actually making a total sacrifice. And when Peter questions them about it, they double down and lie straight to his face. And in a moment that feels shocking, just like in the Old Testament, God strikes them down dead, one after the other. By now, you're probably noticing a theme in these passages. But what makes this one stand out is that it's happening here in the New Testament. God is still dealing seriously and decisively with sin. This sin was so dangerous and so potent that God gave no room for it at all. Because the deadliest sin isn't always open rebellion. It's a heart that pretends devotion while harboring sin and hiding from God. At the core, Ananias and Sophira wanted to be seen as generous. They wanted the apostles and the church to believe that they were all in, just like Barnabas, who had given everything. They wanted the respect without the surrender. They wanted the recognition without the cost. But their character couldn't sustain the image that they were trying to project to the world. And isn't that where it gets uncomfortably close to home? Comparison is such a thief. They could have happily lived on the money that they kept and given generously to the church, but pride wouldn't let them. They had to be seen a certain way. Peter makes it really clear their lie was not just to him, it was to the Holy Spirit. They believed that they could manage appearances and curate a perfect perception and still hide what was really going on underneath all of it. But God is never fooled by our presentation. And again we see this thread, the inner life not matching the outer display. We want respect. We want admiration. We want to be known as faithful, sold-out believers. But when that desire turns into performance, when it becomes a show, hypocrisy takes root. And that is fertile ground for corruption. Pride corrodes faster than almost anything else. And here's what's sobering. This kind of deceit, left unchecked, could have spread through the early church like yeast, quietly working its way through everything. I'm sure we've all seen what happens when corruption takes hold in leadership or in a community. It doesn't stay contained. It damages everything that it touches. So God stops it immediately, decisively. He protects his church at its most vulnerable stage, which leaves us with some hard, honest questions. Do we want to be seen as generous without actually being generous? Do we want to be known as kind and patient without doing the slow, painful work of becoming kind and patient? Do we want to appear put together the perfect mother, the gracious host, the supportive wife? While behind the scenes there's frustration, anger, and pressure holding everything up? Are we stressing our family out, trying to appease the self-image that we've presented to the world or have convinced ourselves is what gives us our value? There are so many ways that we step into roles and play parts and manage perception. And if we're not careful, the same sin that we see in Ananias and Sophira starts to surface in us. So we have to learn to see it, to catch it when our hearts start drifting in that direction. Because let's be honest, it does. And the more you run from it and act as though it isn't a part of who you are, the more you will be enslaved by it. We need to repent honestly, quickly, and thoroughly. We need to bring that orphan mindset, the need to prove, to perform, and to be seen before the Lord and ask him to change us from the inside out. We need to invite accountability and ask the uncomfortable questions. Do I put on a facade? Do I play the victim? Do I play the martyr? Do I play the savior? Am I performing instead of living truthfully? And then we get serious about dealing with our sin, not casually and not eventually, but with conviction now. Are we willing to look unimpressive, untidy, unrefined, or incomplete? Are you willing to let people see the cracks in your life? Because integrity isn't built in what we project for others to see. It's formed in what we're willing to bring into the light. Now I know I've thrown a lot of bing things at you, but hold on for one more piece of scripture that helps tie everything together. We're going to end by looking at one of Jesus' most sobering warnings from the Sermon on the Mount, which is the longest recorded sermon of Jesus, one that challenged everything that the Jews of that time thought that they understood about righteousness. Jesus didn't just tweak their thinking, he completely turned it upside down. He dropped truth that cut straight through appearances and exposed hearts. I want to sit in one of those statements and wrap it into everything that we've been talking about. In Matthew 7, verses 21 to 23, Jesus said, Not everyone who calls out to me, Lord, Lord, will enter the kingdom of heaven. Only those who actually do the will of my Father in heaven will enter. On judgment day, many will say to me, Lord, Lord, we prophesied in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and performed miracles in your name. But I will reply, I never knew you. Get away from me, you who break God's laws. Now I know there's a lot here, but we need to draw out a few clear and sobering conclusions. First, it is possible to claim to follow Jesus, even do impressive spiritual looking things, and still not actually know him. The Greek word here is one of my favorite for know. It's gonosco. It speaks of a deep experiential knowledge, an intimate relational knowing. It's the kind of word that is used to describe the closeness between a husband and a wife. This is not surface-level familiarity. This is not knowing about Jesus. This is knowing him through a lived, ongoing, surrendered relationship. So when Jesus says, I never knew you, he's saying, You never belonged to me. You are not the sheep that hears my voice. That cuts straight through religious performance. It means that we cannot rely on ministry activity or leadership or spiritual gifts or outward obedience to save us. A personal relationship with Jesus Christ, truly honoring him as Lord and Master is the only way. And unfortunately, this fraud is not new. In the courts of Pharaoh, Janice and Jambries stood in direct opposition to Moses. When God moved through Moses, they imitated it for Pharaoh. Their stabs turned into snakes. They turned water into blood, they produced frogs. They were able to replicate the miraculous, at least for a time. Even during the amazing exodus of Israel from Egypt, deception was at work, and we can clearly see that not everything supernatural is from God. Not everyone who says the right things or even does amazing things is sent by him. Second, this passage from Matthew reveals something deeply and unsettling. These people calling out, Lord, Lord, are completely self-deceived. They are shocked by his response. They fully expected to be welcomed into heaven. Their confidence was built on what they had done for Jesus and not what he had done for them. Their understanding of salvation was completely upside down. And again, it shows us that sincerity is not the same as truth. You can be confident and still be dead wrong. Third, Jesus calls them lawless and casts them out. That's strong language. These are people who believed they were doing great things in his name, but in reality, they were not doing the will of the Father at all. Their lives looked active, but they were spiritually dead. Even one of Jesus' disciples, Judas, cast out demons, and yet in the end he was the son of perdition and without hope. Without a true connection, real submission to the voice of God, even the most impressive acts mean nothing. A mere verbal confession of faith is not enough. Acts of service are not enough. We are saved by grace through faith. And this is something that we can't perform, but something Christ does for us. But real salvation produces something. The evidence of transformation is a relationship that is cultivated. It is a life that increasingly reflects Jesus, not perfectly, but genuinely. And we mock Christ when we call him Lord and we don't do what he says. Jesus is not saying these things to rob us of our assurance. And just so we don't isolate this passage, let's let Scripture interpret Scripture and look at Micah 6.8. It helps to ground us a bit. It says, And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God? That is a life that flows from truly knowing Him. And that is what it all comes down to. Doing the will of the Father is not about performing for God. It is about walking with Him. The wisdom from 1 Samuel 15, 22 helps us to ground these thoughts a bit further. It says, To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams. And this is where all these threads come together. Cain, Nadab and Abihu, Uzzah, Ananias and Sapphira, and even these warnings from Jesus Himself, none of these are random moments. They are a unified message, a call to stop approaching God casually, to stop substituting sincerity for surrender, and to stop building a version of faith that feels right to us instead of submitting to what God has actually said. God does not receive worship that is built on our terms. He is holy, he is good, and he has already made the way. There's no reinvention. Through Christ we are invited in, but we are invited in rightly, not through performance, not through image, not through effort alone, but through surrender, obedience, and relationship. So the question we're left with isn't, am I trying? It's am I aligned with him? Am I walking with him? Or am I asking him to walk with me? Because one leads to life, and the other, no matter how sincere it may feel, completely misses him. So today, don't harden your heart. If the Lord is putting his finger on something, listen to him. Return to him. Submit again. He is not surprised at our sin. He makes a way for it, but we have to come to him. Let him reshape the way that you approach him, because he is not safe, but he is good. And in his goodness he is calling you closer, but on his terms and not on yours. I'm going to leave you with Proverbs three, five, and six. Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge him, and he shall direct your paths.