Will You Be Part of the Great Falling Away?
It’s 3 a.m. and I can’t sleep. I’ve got a podcast playing, though honestly I’m only a few minutes in before my mind starts racing. Thoughts start flooding in about something I heard in a sermon on Sunday. I’ll drop the podcast link if you want to check it out, but this reflection is what’s keeping me awake.
There’s a sobering warning in both Timothy and Thessalonians about the great falling away. That phrase has been bouncing around in my head tonight.
“Don’t let anyone deceive you in any way, for that day will not come until the rebellion occurs and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the man doomed to destruction.”
— 2 Thessalonians 2:3 (NIV)
“The Spirit clearly says that in later times some will abandon the faith and follow deceiving spirits and things taught by demons.”
— 1 Timothy 4:1 (NIV)
Those verses hit hard. There are probably hundreds of reasons why people drift or walk away from the faith. But this morning, I’m not thinking about anyone else I’m thinking about me.
Jesus talked about building our house on the rock instead of the sand, because when the storms hit, the difference becomes painfully obvious.
“But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”
— Matthew 7:26–27 (NIV)
Some days I feel like I’m standing strong on the mountaintop, completely in tune with God, ready to take on anything. But it doesn’t take long before life hits, the valley comes, and I realize how quickly I can wobble. Those are the moments when faith feels fragile, when temptation whispers, and when deception sneaks in quietly through pride, pain, or plain old exhaustion.
It is so easy to take our eyes off Jesus. Maybe we start to trust in political leaders, or maybe it’s money, success, comfort, or relationships that start to capture our hearts. Whatever it is, the enemy doesn’t need to destroy us if he can simply distract us. Before long, we can be running hard in the wrong direction, thinking we’re still on track.
If I’m honest, I’m not preaching to anyone else tonight. I’m preaching to myself. It’s humbling to realize how vulnerable we really are. It doesn’t take much for the enemy to twist something just enough to pull our eyes off Jesus. Satan is a master deceiver, and my own flesh is often a willing partner. That frustrates me deeply because I know better, yet I still find myself fighting the same battles.
All I know is this I want to stand strong until the day Jesus returns. I don’t want to be deceived. But I also don’t want to be arrogant enough to say, “Never me.” That kind of pride is dangerous.
“So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!”
— 1 Corinthians 10:12 (NIV)
I think it’s actually healthy to admit that I could fall, that I need the grace of God every single day.
I’m thankful for that grace thankful that there’s no condemnation for those who are in Christ.
“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”
— Romans 8:1 (NIV)
But grace doesn’t erase the warning. Scripture tells us to stay alert, to hold fast, to be ready. I may not have all the theological details worked out about the timing or what the falling away will look like, but it’s enough to shake me. Enough to make me want to live holy. Enough to keep me praying that when I stand before God, He’ll look at me and say, “Well done, good and faithful son.”
“His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’”
— Matthew 25:23 (NIV)
So yeah, it’s 3 a.m. and I’m wide awake, aware of my flaws and grateful for my Savior. I can’t do this on my own. None of us can. But by His strength, we can stand firm and not be counted among those who fall away. Here is the link to podcast. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z2COvghtg3U