News

Scholars generally agree that Pentecost in Acts 2 occurred in A.D. 30, in the last week of May.[1] The biblical text itself does not specify an exact year—Luke omits references to exact dates[1]—but this dating represents scholarly consensus based on the chronological framework of Acts and what is known about the timing of Jesus’s crucifixion and resurrection. [1] Simon J. Kistemaker and William Hendriksen, Exposition of the Acts of the Apostles, New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1953–2001), 17:75.

question:* IN bible:"Romans 3" https://ref.ly/logos4/Search?kind=BibleSearch&q=question%3a*+IN+bible%3a%22Romans+3%22&syntax=v2&documentlevel=verse&exactref=true&match=stem&in=raw%3aTop%7cDataType%3dbible%7cResourceType%3dtext.monograph.bible%7cResultLimit%3d1%7cTitle%3dTop%2520Bible%2520(NIV)&viewkind=passages&engine=Semantic https://app.logos.com/search?q=question%3A*+IN+bible%3A%22Romans+3%22&case=ignore&form=all&ref=narrow&resources=topBible&kind=bible&view=passages&syntax=v2&engine=lexical&source=SearchPanel

not drifting from God's generous provision

A good paraphrase would be: “Make sure that no one turns away from God's gracious offer and misses the blessings that come from trusting and following Him.”

https://ref.ly/logos4/StudyAssistant?ShareToken=sfGFdJJPbCpnNWyY The father was “filled with compassion” (Luke 15:20) when he saw his returning son. This compassion wasn’t merely sentimental—it was a visceral, urgent response. The Greek word for compassion (splagchnizomai) describes a feeling so intense that it reaches into your internal organs and compels you to action to alleviate suffering.1 Beyond this emotional motivation, the father’s run carried profound cultural significance. The father was “truly eager to initiate forgiveness and reconciliation with his son,”2 mirroring how Christ is “the architect and the initiator of our salvation” who “seeks and draws sinners to Himself before they ever would think of seeking Him.”2 Yet there was another critical reason: protection. In Middle Eastern culture, a mature man was expected to walk slowly and with dignity, and it’s likely the father ran to protect the son from children in the town who might meet him with stones.3 Under Deuteronomy 21, a stubborn and rebellious son could be stoned to death by the men of the town.4 When the father saw his son returning, he ran to him because the law declared such a son worthy of stoning—the father’s running meant “if anyone is going to stone him, he will have to go through me to get to my son.”4 This act of running was itself shameful. Noblemen in that culture did not run; running was for servants and children, not men of dignity.2 By running, the father—a man of age and distinction who always walked with slow dignity—took on the shame and humiliation due his prodigal son.5 The father’s willingness to humiliate himself publicly embodied the grace he offered his wayward child. 1 Josh Turner and Joby Martin, Into the Storm: How to Face Down Any Crisis with Deep, Unshakable Faith (Eugene, OR: Harvest House Publishers, 2025), 47–48. 2 John F. MacArthur, A Tale of Two Sons: The Inside Story of a Father, His Sons, and a Shocking Murder (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2008). [See here, here, here.] 3 Andrew David Naselli, How to Understand and Apply the New Testament: Twelve Steps from Exegesis to Theology (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2017), 28. 4 David Platt, “God’s Story in a Shame-Based Culture,” in David Platt Sermon Archive (Birmingham, AL: David Platt, 2007), 784–785. 5 Francis S. Collins and Karl W. Giberson, The Language of Science and Faith: Straight Answers to Genuine Questions (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2026), 96.

Thank you for the explanation.

https://ref.ly/logos4/StudyAssistant?ShareToken=X3Dc4bR9ZpY5VwxP Wind functions differently in the Job and Elijah narratives, yet both reveal God’s power and transcendence—though in contrasting ways. In the Elijah account, a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind (1 Kings 19:11–13). This sequence is striking: Elijah expects to encounter God through dramatic natural phenomena, yet after the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire (1 Kings 19:11–13). Instead, after the fire came a gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11–13)—God’s actual presence. The wind here serves as a foil, demonstrating that divine power exceeds human expectations about how God manifests himself. Job’s experience differs fundamentally. The LORD spoke to Job out of the storm (Job 40:6), and the breath of God produces ice, and the broad waters become frozen. At his direction they swirl around over the face of the whole earth to do whatever he commands them. He brings the clouds to punish people, or to water his earth and show his love (Job 37:9–13). Here, wind and storm are the vehicle of God’s presence and speech, not obstacles to it. Why wind specifically? Wind is a mighty force which only God could command. The wind did God’s bidding1. More profoundly, OT thought can observe the wind in its real physical manifestations, but on the other hand it can relate it, to a greater or lesser degree, to Yahweh. The mysterious power at work in the wind and its unknown origin are particularly suggestive of God’s activity in it and its effects2. Wind’s invisibility and power made it an ideal symbol—it demonstrates divine authority while remaining inscrutable, much like God himself. 1 Trent C. Butler, “Wind,” in Holman Bible Dictionary (B&H, n.d.). [See here.] 2 Ernst Jenni and Claus Westermann, in Theological Lexicon of the Old Testament (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1997), 1205.