What did Jesus mean by _TURN THE OTHER CHEEK__ (No Ads))

Welcome back to the Bible Stories. As you watch to day,

you will notice there are no ads playing on this video.

That is because YouTube has completely demonetized our channel. We

now depend on support from viewers like you to keep

making these videos. If the videos on our channel have

blessed your life, please consider supporting us by scanning the

QR code on your screen or clicking the link in

the description. Turn the other Cheek is one of Jesus's

most quoted lines and one of his most misunderstood. Many

hear it and think so, I'm supposed to be a pushover.

Others use it to silence any pushback against wrong. Jesus

meant neither. He spoke to people living in a culture

where public respect meant everything, and a slap wasn't just pain.

It was a public put down, meant to lower your

standing into that world. He gave a response that refuses

payback without surrendering dignity. It is not retreat, It is

not revenge. It is a different kind of strength. If

you've ever felt the rush to strike back or the

pressure to stay quiet, Jesus shows a way that exposes

evil without becoming its mirror, And that is exactly what

we're about to explore. When Jesus said, you have heard

that it was said an eye for an eye, and

a tooth for a tooth. But I say to you,

do not resist the one who is evil, he stepped

directly into the long conversation about how communities limit revenge

and handle harm. The old rule I for eye was

never a command to take revenge in private. It was

a legal limit meant to stop the spiral where one

injury turns into a feud that never ends. Jesus knew

that principle had helped restrain violence in courts and counsels.

Yet he he also knew how easily a good boundary

becomes a shield for the heart that wants to strike

back and still feel justified. So he addresses the listener

at the most personal level and says that the disciple

of the kingdom does not meet harm with equal harm.

When the injury is an insult, a petty legal squeeze,

or a forced humiliation. He is not overturning the responsibility

of rulers to punish real crimes. He is narrowing the

lens to the moment when your pride is hit, when

your coat is taken to prove a point when your

time and body are pressed into service you did not

ask for. In that field, the law of even exchange

gives way to the law of generous courage. Matthew preserves

jesus words carefully and then places beside them three living pictures.

The slap on the right cheek, the lawsuit for the tunic,

and the soldier's mile are not separate topics, but one

line of teaching draw from life. His hearers knew well.

Jesus is not making rules for every possible case. He

is shaping the inner posture that will guide a disciple

in the thousand small clashes that train the heart either

toward revenge or toward the kingdom. He begins with the

insult that strikes your dignity. Then he moves to the

legal setting where someone uses the system to squeeze you. Finally,

he names the raw power of empire that can turn

you into a beast of burden for a stretch of road.

In each case, he does not counsel running away, nor

does he bless a counter blow. He commands a surprising,

steady action that reveals the wrong without adding to it.

Do not resist the one who is evil has stumbled

many readers because they hear it as do not oppose

evil in any way. That is not the sense. The

phrase points to the act of answering evil with the

same kind of force it used on you. Jesus is

forbidding the return. In the same coin, he is saying,

do not become the thing you hate. The disciple will

certainly resist evil by speaking the truth, by staying present,

by refusing to lie, by protecting the weak, and by

doing good that exposes the darkness. But the Disciple will

not resist by repaying in kind. That is the center

of his command. When he adds, if any one slaps

you on the right cheek, turn to him the other. Also,

he is not inviting personal ruin. He is unmasking the

small tyrannies that feed on our need to get even

and protect our pride. The back hand to the right

cheek was meant to put you in your place. Turning

the other cheek does two things at once. You do

not lower your eyes or flee, which would grant the

insult its triumph. You do not raise your fist, which

would confess that your honor depends on winning this contest. Instead,

you make a move that denies the terms of the game.

You stand firm and face the abuser with a posture

that says, I am not who you say I am,

and I will not become like you to prove it.

That is not weakness. It is the strength of a

free person who belongs to God. The same inner strength

governs the next scenario. If any one would sue you

and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well.

The tunic was the basic inner garment. The cloak was

the outer garment that also kept a person warm at night.

In Israel's law, a cloak had special protection because it

could be the only covering a poor person had. When

Jesus says to hand over the cloak too, he is

not telling you to despise your own life or collapse

into poverty to please a bully. He is teaching a

response that throws light on the wrong being done. In

a court room where someone tries to strip you down

to make a point or to squeeze you for show,

you answer with generous clarity. You make it obvious to

everyone that this is not a simple debt case, but

a public stripping of a neighbor. You give more than

demanded in a spirit that says, I am not your pawn,

and I will not clutch my right so tightly that

my soul shrinks. Such a move unsettles the one who

thought he held all the cards. It exposes the smallness

of his victory. Then comes the mile. If any one

forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.

Roman soldiers could press locals to carry supplies for a

given distance. Everyone knew the boundary, and everyone felt the

sting of being treated as equipment rather than as a person.

The first mile was forced, the second mile free, meally chosen.

Turns the whole scene on its head. You are no

longer the driven one. You are now the one who

decides to keep walking, not to display pride, but to

show that your life is not owned by the empire's demand.

Your service is not a sign of your worthlessness. It

is the mark of a kingdom that cannot be controlled

by threats. The soldier learns something he did not expect

from a subject of the land. There is a freedom

that cannot be drafted by these moments. Jesus forms a

people whose responses interrupt the ordinary chain reaction of injury

and payback. His words reach into our homes, our social places,

our work, and our public life, and they ask whether

our hearts are ruled by scorekeeping or by the Father's care.

We are meant to hear all three pictures as one teaching,

don't let the last thing done to you decide what

you do next. The way of Jesus refuses that tribute.

It answers wrong in a way that reveals its pettiness,

and points beyond it without pretending that it did not happen.

When he later says, give to the one who begs

from you, and do not refuse the one who would

borrow from you, he is loosening the fist that fear makes,

because fear is what revenge feeds on. The disciple who

lives open handedly, even under pressure, shows that the Father

will be the one to balance the scales in the end.

To hear Jesus rightly, we must keep together the narrowness

and the largeness of his command. It is narrow because

it addresses your next response to the one standing before you.

It does not settle every legal question or every public policy.

It is large because it flows out of the Father's

own goodness and aims to create a community that bears

the family likeness. It is personal without being private. It

shapes the soul, so that when many such souls walk together,

a different kind of public is born. This is how

Jesus often works. He aims at the heart to reshape

the world. The words themselves are plain, but their force

grows when we see how they fit the pattern of

the sermon. Jesus has already warned against anger that kills

in seed form, against lust that treats another as a thing,

against truth that bends to convenience. Now he addresses retaliation

that promises relief but delivers a chain. He is not

asking for a performance of niceness. He is calling for

a new center of gravity. You live from the father's regard,

not from the crowd's approval. You answer from a settled place,

not from the gust of the moment. And you aim

always not to win a scene, but to bear witness

to the rule of God in your body, your words,

and your choices. Before we continue with the current video,

I want to show you a quick trailer for our

Bible quiz app. Let's take a look. Think you know

the Bible. Let's put your faith to the test. Play

every day to grow your wisdom. And build a strong

habit that stays with you. Enjoy fun quick quizzes that

help you learn and remember the Bible better than ever.

Earn faith points, level up and climb the global leaderboard.

Unlock the stories of the Bible to day download. Now,

if we wonder whether such a path makes any difference,

we should notice that Jesus does not measure success by

immediate change in the offender. He does not say, turn

the other cheek and they will stop. He says, turn

the other cheek and you will remain my disciple in

a hard world. That is the first victory. And yet

it is also true that the steady responses he commands

create space where the conscience of the offender can wake up.

The one who slaps, soues or drafts expects to meet

fear or rage. When he meets neither, something odd has

happened in the world he thought he understood. That opening

has led again and again in the church's life to

small conversions and sometimes to great ones. But even when

it does not, the disciple has kept faith with the teacher,

and that is enough. The heart trained by Jesus will

be strong for both tasks. Gentle under insult to itself

and courageous in defense of those entrusted to its care.

Understanding the right cheek clarifies Jesus's intent. In daily life,

most people use the right hand. A direct slap from

the right hand would let and on the left cheek.

To hit the right cheek with the right hand, a

person would have to use the back of the hand.

In that culture, the backhand was not a move in

a fair fight. It was a gesture of contempt. It

spoke a social sentence, you are beneath me. The backhand

did not aim to injure as much as to rank.

It was a quick way to write someone's place in

the air between faces. When Jesus names that cheek, he

is naming the world where small rulers live off public

put downs, and where ordinary people learn to nurse grudges

because they feel they have nothing else. But if you

turn the other cheek and stand firm, you deny the

role assigned to you. You are not asking for a

second hit. As if bruises are holy. You are saying

I will not play the inferior you have scripted for me.

It's an act of steady self control. By staying calm,

you show your worth doesn't depend on what others think.

That announcement often unsettles the one who slapped, because the

ritual requires your agreement to work. Without your agreement, the

insult stalls. The same frame helps us read the lawsuit

for the tunic. In debt courts, a creditor might go

after the basic garment to make a display of power

in front of the community. Mocking a debtor by taking

even his simple clothes was a way to teach a

lesson about who holds leverage. Jesus suggests giving the cloak

as well. That move supports his earlier point. You break

the show by stepping toward the exaggeration, not away from it.

If the one who wants your tunic ends up holding

your cloak too, the onlookers can see the cruel theater

for what it is. The scene begins to look less

like justice and more like a stripping The disciples free

act exposes the hidden message of the place plaintives demand

without the disciple becoming bitter or small. In a world

where the poor often had little more than their clothes

as their final protection, this picture would have shocked and

taught at once. The kingdom does not bow to the

shame game, and it does not need to claw to win.

As for the mile, the custom of carrying a pack

one mile was known and resented. The people counted those steps.

They passed stories of soldiers who used the rule to

remind locals of their low place. When Jesus tells his

followers to go two miles, he is not asking them

to love oppression. He is teaching them how to keep

their freedom when power tries to reduce them to hands

and feet. In the second mile, the pack is no

longer a badge of subjection. It becomes a quiet display

of a different kingdom. The soldier learns that he can

command a mile, but he cannot command a heart. That

discovery does not top rome. It topples a little kingdom

inside the soldier and the carrier. The carrier learns that

his life rests in God, not in a strict measure

of what is owed, and no more the soldier sees

that a man with God is not a machine. There

is a line of wisdom running through all three scenes

that speaks to honor, shame, and power in any age.

In public life, people still try to win by scoring

off another's dignity. In courts and offices. People still use

rules to make points as much as to find right.

In the halls of power, people still give orders to

remind others who is in charge. Jesus teaching does not

lie down before any of this. He gives his people

a way to stand that does not require them to

become the very face they oppose. He gives them steps

that any person rich or poor can take, because they

do not depend on having control. These steps begin with

a face turned toward the offender, not away from him.

They continue with words that are clear and calm, rather

than heated or flattering. They end with a choice that,

while it may cost, leaves the soul clean. We should

also note how jesus pictures match the law's original aim

to protect those who could be crushed. The old rule

of eye for eye was meant to stop elites from

punishing small slights with massive penalties. Jesus takes that impulse

to protect and carries it into every day behavior. He

assumes that the ones listening to him will be the

ones pressed, not the ones pressing. Yet in his words,

there is hope for both the pressed and the presser.

The pressed learn a path that keeps them human. The

presser is confronted with a humanity he cannot control. Sometimes

that shock begins the law road to repentance. Even when

it does not, God is praised by the existence of

a people who will not be mastered by shame, money,

or raw force. The clearest measure of any command is

the life of the one who gave it. When the

officer struck Jesus during his examination, Jesus did not drop

his gaze or accept the blow as a final word.

He answered, if what I said is wrong, bear witness

about the wrong. But if what I said is right,

why do you strike me? He did not return a strike.

He did not slink away. He asked for a reason.

He brought the moment into the light of truth. That

is what turn the other cheek looks like. When the

stakes are public and the room is hostile, he keeps

his poise and he speaks. Elsewhere we see his steady

refusal to let others set the terms of his mission.

In his own town, when rage boil and a crowd

intended to throw him off a cliff, he passed through

their midst and went on his way. He neither coward

nor lashed out. He did not let the immediate anger

of others decide his ground. Later, when confronted with tricky

questions meant to trap him, he answered with clarity that

exposed the trap, without insulting the questioners. As beyond hope.

He could speak firmly, but it was to tell the truth,

not to get even. We must also reckon with the

day he cleansed the temple courts. He drove out those

who turned prayer into a market and rebuked the disorder.

Some point to that act as if it nullifies turn

the other cheek. It does not. In the temple, Jesus

acted not in personal revenge, but in zeal for his

father's house. The target was not his bruised pride. The

aim was the holiness and mercy of the place given

for prayer. He did not sneer, and he did not

wound to gratify himself. He cleared space for worship. The

same lord who refused to retaliate when mocked, was able

to act decisively to protect what is holy. The two

are not at war. They are facets of one love

that hates evil and refuses to become evil to fight it.

Consider also how Jesus handled insults that could have been

answered with words just as sharp. He was called a glutton,

a drunkard, a friend of sinners. He did not carry

those labels like stones to throw back. He kept on

welcoming tax collectors and people pushed to the edges. He

kept on teaching and healing. When his own followers argued

about greatness, he did not shame them with a backhanded word.

He placed a child among them and redefined greatness as service.

When they wanted to call down fire on a village

that rejected it him, he told them no and kept traveling.

His life was a long refusal to repay contempt with

equal contempt. At the cross, the pattern reached its fullness.

He was spit upon, mocked, and struck. He fulfilled the

words about the servant who would give his back to

those who strike. Yet even there he did not answer

insult with insult. He prayed for those who crucified him.

He entrusted himself to the Father who judges justly. The

Gospels do not hide the pain of these moments. They

show the cost, but they also show a piece deeper

than the pain. The piece is not numbness. It is trust,

and that trust is the engine of the command to

turn the other cheek. You cannot live this way by

force of will alone. You live it by knowing who

holds your life. There is a further clarity in the

way Jesus uses words. He does not call wrong right,

He names it. He does not say it is fine

that you struck me. He says, if I was wrong,

prove it. If not, why strike me. That is both

a rebuke and an invitation. It leaves the door open

for the one who did wrong to step into the

truth without being crushed. Jesus speech has this double edge

again and again. It cuts the lie, and it leaves

room for the person. The disciple who learns from him

will practice the same. When insult comes, we do not

say it was nothing, as though we are not allowed

to feel. We say what is true, without poison in

our mouth. When pressure comes, we do not pretend it

is kindness. We answer firmly, but without hatred. This is

not theatrical restraint to make us look holy. It is

the daily work of living from the father's gaze. What

about the moments when some protection is needed. Jesus provides

for that too, not by canceling his command, but by

pointing to a community where burdens are shared, and where

leaders guard the vulnerable. He speaks of wolves and false

shepherds and does not expect the sheep to fend for themselves.

Turn the other cheek is not a charter for abusers

to do as they please. It is instruction to the

one who can choose his own response. In the face

of a personal slight or forced service. Where someone is

being harmed in ways that endanger life or violate trust,

love may require intervention. Even then the motive stays clean.

We act not to settle a personal score, but to

protect and to put things right. The line between vengeance

and justice is often drawn by the heart's aim. Jesus

life helps us sense that line. There is another way

He lived this teaching that we can overlook. He practiced

it in small, private ways that the Gospels hint at

but do not dramatize. He withdrew to pray rather than

to simmer. He spent time with friends instead of dwelling

on the insults. He served at tables and fed crowds.

These are not escapes from conflict. They are positive acts

that crowd out revenge by filling the day with good.

The heart that turns the other cheek is not empty.

It is busy with love. Resentment needs idle time and

inward rehearsals to grow strong. Jesus gave resentment little room.

He met interruptions with service, questions with truth, temptation with worship,

and pursuit with steady trust. Turn the other cheek grows

out of that life. If we still fear that this

path invites trampling, we should remember that Jesus also promised

the Father's care for those who suffer for doing right.

He never glamorized pain, but he did promise that none

of it is wasted. Suffering in obedience is not the

same as suffering in bitterness. The former becomes seed, the

latter becomes a chain. Jesus sowed his sufferings, and from

them God brought life for many. The disciple will sow

small seeds of the same kind, trusting that the Father

knows how to bring fruit from losses that seemed petty

or even senseless at the time. Long before jesus birth,

Israel's scriptures spoke of a servant who would obey God,

face shame, and set many right. The servant declares, I

gave my back to those who strike and my cheeks

to those who pull out the beard. I hid, not

my face from disgrace and spitting. That picture is not

simply pain endured. It is willing faithfulness under provocation. The

servant remained steady in his mission, though he is treated

as nothing. He does not return violence. Yet he is

not silent in despair. He sets his face like flint,

trusting that God will vindicate him. When Jesus teaches turn

the other cheek, he is not inventing a new ethic

from the air. He is drawing from and fulfilling this

servant pattern. His words become flesh in his own life,

and through his disciples, they continue to be seen in

the world. The servant songs also speak of bearing sin

and bringing healing. The one who does not answer blow

for blow becomes the channel through which God's mercy flows.

This opens a deeper layer in Jesus teaching turning the

other cheek is not merely clever strategy to embarrass an opponent.

It is a way of sharing in the servant's mission

to overcome evil without becoming evil. It becomes a sign

that a new age has dawned, an age where God's

reign works not by the sword, but by the cross

shaped love that absorbs wrong and returns blessing. That does

not mean we pretend evil is not evil. It means

evil does not get to decide the shape of our actions.

We see hints of this pattern in the Psalms, too,

where the righteous sufferer entrusts his cause to God rather

than taking it into his own hands. He cries, he prays,

he waits, and he praises. He asks God to act

because he refuses to act like a thug. Jesus stands

in this stream at his arrest. When a disciple drew

a sword and struck, Jesus told him to put it

away and explained that more than twelve legions of angels

were at his call. He could have chosen force. He

chose the cup the Father gave him. His choice did

not end in shame. It ended in resurrection. That is

why his command carries hope and not only cost. The

servant's pattern leads through pain to life. When we hear

the servant's voice in Isaiah and see jesus face in

the Gospels, we are invited to trust that this way

of absorbing shame without returning it is not foolishness. It

is the wisdom of God. From a distance, it can

look like failure because the scene often ends with the

disciple still bearing the loss of an insult or an

extra mile. But in the long work of God, that

same scene becomes a testimony that moves hearts and guards

the soul of the one who obeyed. The prophets prepared

us for a messiah who would win by losing in

the eyes of the world. Jesus fulfills that hope, and

his command to his followers invites us into the same

deep wisdom. This does not turn the disciple into a

seeker of pain. The servant does not love the spitting.

He loves God and neighbors enough to keep his hands

clean in a dirty moment. He loves the coming joy

enough to endure the present trial, and he believes that

God's vindication is better than any quick win he could

grab By lashing back. Turning the other cheek becomes in

this light an act of worship. It says God, you

are judge, God, you are my honor. God. You see.

That is why the prophets often tie the promise of

God's help to the command not to repay wrong with wrong.

The two live together. Without trust in God, the command

feels impossible. With trust, it becomes hard, but not impossible.

To live this out. We begin by settling what story

we believe about honor and safety. If our honour depends

on never being slighted, we will never have peace. If

our safety depends on winning every encounter, we will be

always at war. Jesus gives another way. He roots our

honor in the Father's love and our safety in the

Father's hand. Once that route is firm, the next insult

is no longer a crisis of identity. It becomes a

test of trust. Our answer can then be steady, truthful,

and clean. This is not a call to become quiet

in the face of lies. It is a call to

speak in a way that leaves no stain on the soul.

When you are put down, you can answer, as Jesus

did before the officer. Ask for clarity, ask for witness,

appeal to what is right. When you are dragged into

petty wrangling, you can refuse the bait and state the

truth once without mockery. When some one leans on power

to make you carry their load, you can add a

step they did not command, not to earn their favor

but to show that your choices are not owned by threat.

These are not tricks, They are the fruit of a

heart that is free. We must also face our fear

that such responses won't work. What does work mean? If

we mean end the conflict at once and change the offender,

then often it will not. Jesus never promise that he

offered a better victory. You will not be conquered by

the evil done to you. You will not become its echo.

That is victory enough to keep walking, and its quiet

strength is often what God uses to bring about the

longer change. We cannot time. We do not obey to

manage outcomes. We obey because we belong to Jesus. There

are boundaries to hold. Turning the other cheek is not

a blanket command to stay in harm's way when real

danger threatens your life or the lives of those under

your care. It is focused on the personal insult, the

small scale legal squeeze, and the forced inconvenience. Where violence

seeks to break bodies or oaths are being violated, Wisdom

and love may call for removing yourself, seeking help or

involving those with rightful authority. Even then, the inner posture

Jesus commands remains a guard rail. Do not let the

hurt drag you into hate. Let the necessary steps be

taken without malice. Because this way is hard. We need

one another. A community shaped by Jesus words will help

its members answer insults and pressures with clean hands. It

notices those being squeezed and steps in to help. It

does n't sheer revenge with jokes or nods. It honors

quiet victories. No headline will record. Children learn their worth

isn't tied to winning, and it sets clear ways to

address harm, protecting the weak, holding the strong to account,

while keeping a spirit that remembers we're all sinners who

need mercy. The Church has failed in these things many times,

and we should not pretend otherwise. But the failures only

underline the wisdom of the Lord's command and the need

for his spirit to keep from making Jesus teaching into

a bare rule. Let us name the heart he wants

to form. It is a heart that can feel pain

without being ruled by it. It cares more about truth

than image. It looks past the offense to the person

and hopes for change without joining their game, and it

would rather lose a small fight than lose the likeness

of Christ. Such a heart grows slowly, and God is

patient with the growth. Each time you choose to answer

a put down with steady words instead of a sharp return,

you are training that heart. Each time you give a

little more than what the petty demand required, you pry

a finger of fear off your throat. Each time you

walk an extra stretch rather than stew over the compulsion,

you teach your soul that servanthood is not a curse

when it is chosen in freedom. Scripture gives a few

brief confirmations of this path without drowning us in rules.

The Apostle calls us not to repay evil for evil,

but to overcome evil with good. Jesus tells us to

bless those who curse us and pray for those who

mistreat us. We are not being told to enjoy mistreatment.

We are being invited to take hold of a power

that the world does not understand. The world understands force

and flattery, It understands manipulation and withdrawal. It does not

know what to do with the person who stands, tells

the truth without venom, gives more than demanded, and walks

farther than forced. That person is a sign that God's

reign is near. When we fail, and we will, we

return to the one who fulfilled this teaching perfectly. He forgives,

He lifts our chin. He sends us back to the

same world with a fresh chance to answer the next

moment in his way. Over time, that cycle of failure

and fresh obedience becomes a testimony in itself. Others watching

learn that the way of Jesus is not for the flawless,

but for the forgiven. They see that the strength to

turn the other cheek is not in us by nature.

It is given. And because it is given, it does

not run out. When we are tired. It can be

asked for again tomorrow. Living this way will sometimes mean

letting the last word belong to someone else. That is

one of the hardest parts. We want to clear our name,

to defend our honor, to point out every unfair edge.

There are moments when a clear, brief word is right

and good. There are also moments when silence says enough.

How do we tell the difference? We learn by walking

with Jesus in prayer, by seeking counsel from wise believers,

and by checking our desires if I want to speak

mainly to humble another, I should wait. If I want

to speak to put light on the truth for their

good and for the good of others, then a few

careful words may serve the same discernment applies to the

extra mile and the extra cloak. We are not trying

to produce a performance. We are trying to love well

in a world that trains us to fight for small

crowns that will not last. The promise that undergirds all

of this is simple and deep. The Father sees when

you absorb a slight and answer with clarity rather than

with rage. He sees when you are pressed into a

task and you add a step out of freedom. He

sees when you endure a petty legal squeeze and you

respond with a generosity that exposes the game without poisoning

your heart. He sees. His seeing is not mere notice,

It is care. He who sees in secret will reward.

The reward is sometimes peace in the moment, sometimes reconciliation

much later, sometimes the unseen shaping of your character. It

is always the pleasure of God, which is better than

vindication before men. Finally, the meaning for us is bound

to our witness the world has heard the words turn

the other cheek, often from mouths that did not try

to live them. When a church actually answers injury without

revenge and pressure without bitterness, the words become flesh again.

People notice. They may call it weakness, they may mock it,

but many will see that it takes more strength to

hold back the hand and the tongue than to throw either.

That sight has won many, not by argument, but by wonder.

If we long to commend Jesus to our neighbors, this

path is not optional. It is our uniform. It is

the mark by which our king is recognized in us.

So the command takes form. Do not repay insult with insult.

Do not let the grasping spirit rule your use of goods.

Do not let coercion decide your heart's shape. Stand firm,

speak truth plainly, give freely, walk freely. Trust the Father.

Remember the servant. Look to Jesus who turned his cheek

and then set his face toward the cross and the

joy that lay beyond it. If this video helped you

grow deeper in God's word, I want to personally invite

you to be part of what we are building here.

Every video on this channel takes many hours of study

and careful research to make sure we bring you content

that is faithful to scripture and worthy of your time.

If you would like to support this mission and help

us keep making these videos, you can find a link

in the description below to give a one time gift

or become a monthly supporter. Every gift, no matter the size,

goes directly toward creating more content like this, and if

you are not in a position to give right now,

that is completely fine. The best thing you can do

is subscribe, share this video with someone who needs to

hear it, and keep studying God's word with us. Thank

you for being here, and may God bless you richly.