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Is Believing in the Finished Work of Christ Dangerous?

There’s one objection I hear all the time. It usually sounds like this:


“If I stay where I’m at, believing the way I do, I’m safe. If you’re right, and everyone is saved, then I’m still safe because I stayed faithful. But if you’re wrong and I go your way, I could end up in hell.”


Is Believing in the Finished Work of Christ Dangerous?

At first, it sounds clever — almost like a spiritual insurance policy. But when you stop and think about it, it doesn’t really make sense.


Because here’s the deal: in the mainstream view, salvation comes by believing Jesus is the Son of God, that He died for our sins, and that His work is enough. Right?


Well, if you believe what we believe, then I have great news. You’ve already fulfilled every single one of those requirements. We’re not denying Jesus. We’re not denying the cross. We’re actually saying His work was bigger, stronger, and more complete than we were ever told. Ironic, isn't it?


So what’s the real problem here? That we don’t believe in hell? That we don’t believe God is going to burn people forever?


Am I really supposed to believe God would say, “You trusted My Son. You believed His sacrifice covered the world. But because you didn’t believe in eternal punishment, you’re out”?


That doesn’t make sense. In fact, it’s almost laughable. The idea that the deal-breaker is not believing in hell — not believing God was cruel enough — is absurd.


And besides, why would God punish someone for believing He was more loving than we were taught? Why would He be angry because we thought the cross accomplished more, not less? Am I really supposed to believe the danger is in thinking too highly of Him?


That’s backwards. The gospel isn’t about hedging your bets or picking the stricter path “just in case.” It’s about Jesus. It’s about what He accomplished — once, for everyone.


When you look at Scripture honestly, you don’t find a God who warns us not to think too highly of Him. You find a God whose love, mercy, and grace are constantly described as going beyond what we expect. Over and over, the gospel pushes bigger, not smaller.


And that’s what we discovered when we stripped away the fear and tradition. The pieces finally made sense. The gospel wasn’t fragile. It didn’t need protection. It was stronger than we ever imagined.


So let me ask you: what makes more sense? That God would condemn someone for believing the gospel was too good? Or that He’s inviting us to see just how far His grace really goes?


That’s the heart of The Hour We Least Expected. Not that we dreamed up something new, but that once we looked with fresh eyes, the gospel itself showed us a picture far bigger — and far better — than we ever dared to believe.


And I know what some people will say: “Okay, maybe you’re safe believing this yourself. But if you start teaching others that there’s no urgency, no requirement, no choice they have to make, won’t that put them in danger?”


That sounds like a serious concern — but it falls apart when you look at what Scripture actually says. Over and over, the gospel is presented as something already accomplished, not something waiting on us. Just as through Adam’s offense condemnation came to all, so through Christ’s act justification came to all (Romans 5:18). Nobody got to choose Adam’s side, and nobody gets to choose Christ’s. That’s why the analogy of being “born again” is so powerful. What part did you play in your first birth? None. It was entirely outside of your control. And in the same way, your second birth — your life in Christ — is something He accomplished, not something you triggered.


So no, it’s not dangerous to believe this. What’s dangerous is clinging to a gospel of fear and conditions that the Bible itself doesn’t support. What this view actually does is give you confidence — confidence that Christ’s work really was finished, confidence that grace really did reach everyone, and confidence that the gospel finally makes sense. That’s what The Hour We Least Expected is all about.

The Hour We Least Expected

© 2025 Aaron Essary & Steve Essary Jr.

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