When the Gospel Doesn’t Add Up: Contradictions We Can’t Ignore

For years I believed the gospel the way it was taught to me. I preached it. I defended it. I lived it. And yet, the deeper I looked, the more cracks started to show.

Because here’s the truth: a lot of what we were told just doesn’t add up.

Take this for example: “God is love, and love keeps no record of wrongs.” That’s 1 Corinthians 13:5. But in the same breath we’re told God will record every wrong, keep it forever, and then burn people in eternal torment because of it. How does that fit together?

Or the common explanation about hell: “It wasn’t made for humans, it was made for the devil and his angels. But if you don’t believe in Christ, that’s where you go.” Okay — so the lake of fire was designed for spiritual beings, but now God supposedly has no alternative for humans who don’t believe? Is He such a bad planner that He ran out of options? Out of real estate? Did He never think to make a third option? That picture doesn’t describe a God of love and order. It describes a God scrambling to make do.

And then there’s this one: “Jesus saves.” But the fine print says, only if you meet the conditions. Romans 5:18 says, “through one man’s offense judgment came to all men… even so through one Man’s righteous act the free gift came to all men.” Adam’s choice doomed everyone without us having a say. But we’re told Jesus — the second Adam, who is supposed to be greater than the first — only gives us a chance, if we believe just right. How does the lesser Adam have more power than the greater One? That doesn’t add up.

And for those of us who love prophecy, the cracks only get bigger. Daniel’s 70 weeks is a perfect example. The very event that makes Jesus the Messiah — His death, His resurrection, the tearing of the veil — is placed in the “gap” between the 69th and 70th week. Think about that. Gabriel delivers a prophecy about the Messiah, but the defining act of the Messiah isn’t even in the prophecy? It’s shoved into a parenthesis? That doesn’t make sense.

Matthew 24, Revelation, Daniel 9… the more you study, the more you realize the pieces are being forced together, and they don’t fit.

And that’s where I had to be honest with myself. If the gospel I was taught leaves me with endless contradictions, maybe the problem isn’t me. Maybe the problem is the version of the gospel I was handed.

When me and my brother decided to clear the slate and go back to Scripture with no agenda, that’s when things changed. We didn’t force the pieces anymore. We just laid them out, and to our surprise — they actually fit. Naturally. Cleanly. Beautifully.

And what we found was bigger than we ever imagined: a gospel that really is good news. A gospel that doesn’t contradict itself. A gospel that makes sense.

That’s what The Hour We Least Expected is about. Not about inventing something new, but about showing how the pieces finally come together when you stop forcing them and actually let Scripture speak for itself.